Wiccan Act One: Occult

10 | Alakazam

Christian

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Knocking interrupted his nap.

By the time Christian got home, he had no energy to open another book. He tried calling Cyrus a few times from his mother's van, but the line went dead to each attempt.

He couldn't even blame Cyrus for his reaction. What would he do if he were in Cyrus's shoes? Most likely, he would have worked on figuring out where these unusual abilities came from and how to control them. Except that was the thing. It didn't happen to him; it happened to Cyrus, and they're completely different individuals. He knew Cyrus had already been dealing with his own internal demons, this only added to that. Imagine discovering an unknown part yourself alien to the world.

Over the past two days, he had to do an extensive amount of mental gymnastics in order to wrap his head around most of this. What happened at the diner only added to the headache? Talking to Rowan helped to distract from that a bit, but the second he walked out the doors, the weight of the situation crushed his shoulders.

Ugh.

His brain couldn't handle much more of this. There were too many unanswered questions, with not enough information. Just a dead body, missing girl and a best friend who got mad at him.

Christian shoved everything on his bed to the far right corner and threw himself down face first into the heavenly mattress. It only took seconds for him to fall unconscious, dreaming about cloning himself in a lab.

When the banging started, he did nothing, hoping Veronica or his mom would open it and get what they needed without waking him, as they always did. There was a 'no locking doors' rule for a reason.

The next wave of knocks came, and this time he rolled over to shove his face deeper into his pillow.

"I'm trying to sleep," he groaned.

The third wave was unbearable, forcing him up with red puffy eyes and some drool on his cheek. His retinas burned from the room light, quickly becoming the only thing he could see. Only then did he realise the knocks weren't coming from the inside of the house. They originated from his other door. The one leading to the backyard.

"V, please tell me you didn't wake me up because you forgot your - yawn - key again."

He sheepishly made his way over, turning the knob and adjusting to the atmosphere pretty quickly, its absence of artificial light giving him a miniscule break.

At first Christian confused the situation with a dream, seeing that the person knocking outside his door was a half naked, dripping wet Cyrus on the peak of hyperthermia. He wasn't sure where to begin. Should he even question it? To him, it looked like his best friend decided mid-shower to pay Christian a visit. He wore an oversized fleece around his waist, its thick woolen material having holes punched into all the wrong places.

"Cyrus, what are you doing here?" he finally let out, pulling Cyrus inside and shutting the door. "It's freezing outside."

"Y-y-you have n-no idea."

Cyrus rubbed his arms together, careful not to let the fabric fall, trying to get any semblance of warmth. Christian thought about why he only had it around his waist instead of around his entire person, but then realised it was probably too revealing with all the holes. Cyrus' teeth clattered, jumping all around his mouth, ready to shatter.

"What e-e-ever it is th-that is doing this to me doesn't like being i-ignored."

"What happened? And why are you dressed like that in the middle of the night?" Christian questioned.