6 Time

He still can't help but feel guilty, because he hasn't done anything to help. All of his reports regarding the case, it just wasn't enough. He felt his hands plaster itself onto the cold wall, staring aimlessly in wonder. If there was a way…what could he do? It left an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't discomfort, it was more of a warm airy feeling. Something that he hadn't felt before, it was alarming. He shook his head to get over the feeling.

Everything in his mind was in chaos from today's events. He needed to calm down. "Calm down…this time, it's out of your hands." He told himself. A slow exhale was one of the things he could handle right now. The sound of his breath soared through the space without his knowing. It left him in the strange silence of his departing breath. The pressure weighed down his body, popping his eardrums in the process.

He couldn't move he didn't want to move, a sudden fear reigned over him. His breathing sped up making him near frantic as he heard steps coming towards him. 'Thank god,' was the only thing that ran across his mind. The footsteps neared closer, echoing in a slow tone. A shadow of a man seeped across the remaining floor from the doorway. It must be Corey, he knows his muscle-bound figure anywhere. Its steps echoed louder vibrating throughout him. A board back of a khaki uniform appeared through the door first. His heart seemed to stop at his backward companion. Curtis could only stare intently at the awkward movements of Mr. Andrew. His movements became slower as if he put the slow mode on rewind.

Corey voice slurred in reversed sentences broke down to reversed words. His hand landed down on Curtis's shoulder once again, in comfort? How many pats were there? "One…two…three." He breathed nervously. It was the same, but he didn't feel the weight of his hand this time. Curtis looked back at the man's retreating figure. He moved back towards the orange tape. Sweat began to make its way down his brow, as it matched his racing heart. He averted his attention back to the wall where his hands were still placed. All of this was too overwhelming! He refused to look back. The slow echo of the thundering voice rang through his ears from behind. His heart couldn't seem to stop, he didn't want this! His eyes were bolted closed in his panicked state. He wanted it to end!

A low heavy sound of sand grain came apparent. Its endless pouring seemed to hum in his ears. The sound of pouring sand began to match his racing heart, catching him off guard. The dropping of each sand grain begins to speed up. Sharp sounds were heard from the back of him, and the constant rapid footing of footsteps was heard. His eyes jolted opened as he swung himself against the wall towards the rapid scene. Corey was gone, but moving figures dressed in khaki uniforms replaced his presence. They were from the Order. Each figure moved like a jolt of lightning across the room placing the bones back in place and removing the tape. He couldn't understand. Soon the figures sped back through the door, while the day changed at the same pace. His heart grew heavy as he swallowed nothing down his desiccated throat. He waited for the inevitable. Never in all his years has he stared at something so hard. Those bones were the last thing he wanted to see jumping up to life after its burning. He saw the light from outside disappear three times already until the light disappeared from the night sky. This was bad.

Flickers of sparks danced about the room, while his fleeting figure finally bounced off the wall in an alert state. He was right. The sparks burned brighter, bursting into sudden gusts of flames. The surrounding area was engulfed in an inferno which stunned him in place. His mind told him to run, but his body felt no pain. His eyes refused to close this time, taking in the scene. The fires rose higher than lower again, rebuilding the small shop around him. The peeled paint and wallpaper rolled back into place.

The fallen pillar that he kicked earlier stood sturdy carrying the weight of the repaired ceiling. The flames decreased over time as he observed his new surroundings, this was Albucher's House of Décor. Low distinct murmurs echoed in the foreground. He couldn't make sense of it, but he saw a towering figure clothed in all black attire before the mangled flesh on the carpeted floor. It was him. It was this man that did it. Curtis began to reach out wanting to stop the rewind scene and let it take its normal course.

This was it! He wanted to see the intruder's face if anything. "Stop!" He exclaimed, hearing the faint sound of last sand of grain in its final fall. For a brief moment, everything paused. The towering dark flawless skinned man, and the three different voices that came from the room. Three? One came from the taller man; the other came from the fleshy head. He wasn't surprised. And the other? He looked around the completed room once again trying to find the third voice. It sounded like singing and a little high pitched, but ghostly in away. Its voice was alluring; it was a woman's voice.

He rocked sideways from his position, peering behind the dark towering stranger. It didn't take long for him to see a smaller woman or a girl behind the man's stature. He was left breathless. She radiated such light revealing her seamless complexion. Her mist colored eyes began to pull him in. That voice that he heard earlier, it was hers. Her full slender figure stood there motionless. She looked more like a rare handcrafted doll than anything. He stood there goggling over the young woman. She looked around the age of eighteen or so. Was she a victim saved from the crazed vampire? What happened to her? Why didn't she report to the Order? So many questions flooded his head. The only thing there was to do was to see the course of time flow normally.

How was he supposed to go about that? He was working through his brain for anything. There was nothing but frustration building up. He only thought up magic words and frantic hand gestures. He felt stupid. The scene before him was observed once more, everything was frozen into place. Maybe that was it! He said 'stop' at the beginning. So there were magic words rolled into the mix. "Play!" he spoke into the empty air. Shortly his eyes scanned the room once again to see if anything changed. Then he listened and watched the people before he was to become reanimated again. To his disappointment, nothing came to. Why wasn't this working? His sudden yelp for a 'stop' started to look like a fluke. His ears began to listen for something that left him to strain his hearing. Unintentionally he was listening for something. It was there once, since the beginning. It followed him here, leaving him to the unknown. He remembered it's humming ringing in his ears. It assured him of its sound, as it fell.

Curtis held his breath as his ears heard the faint sound of grains of fallen sand. Goosebumps crept down his arms in realization. He felt its current winding its coil around him. The current's flowed as tiny drifts winding round him in opposite and neutral directions. He wasn't sure, but he once again held out his hand again with hesitation.

The unknown scared him. Still, his hand made its way to the winding drifts flowing to the right. It was still in its path, but reversing within itself. He wanted to see…he wanted to see what his full extent was. A slight breeze pressed against his outstretched hand, sending small static stinging sensations through his fingertips. Even though the unknown scared him, he'll rather die than do nothing about it. Sharp jolts of static pricked his fingers as he pressed deeper into the drift, the feeling was surreal. The feeling of the current was sending tiny sensations traveling through him. Soon his vision began to blur. Red flags flared throughout his mind, it was dangerous.

His arm weakened a bit since he jerked his fingers from the moving current. It was something that gave way to panic. A sense of alarm filled his mind. A soft hum of sand filled his ears. Its motion was not slowed, sped, nor stopped. The flow of fallen grain was normal. Soften steps began to walk steadily. He watched her intently moving with such grace across the floor. "Who are you!?" a strangled yell escaped from the head. This scene…it began. "Merely a noblewoman." She soothed.

Her voice sang of hummingbirds, leaking nectar into his ears. He refused to sidetrack anymore he already had… but it left him to choke back the dryness in his throat. The hackle of ash flew from the shopkeeper's mouth. "How can you know of his place of business? Who sent you here to ask of my master!?" Her words no longer answered him. "Y-your offense...shall be death!" The head grasped little air, exerting ash from its burning."I will never forget…it was the—indeed a noblewoman!" The black attired fellow set ablaze the small boutique, leaving nothing in its path.

Her departing figure was apparent that she was trying to leave the scene. He had to follow her. Figure out a name, address, anything! Each movement he took towards her slurred into dead weight. His limbs stiffened under the pressure of the force that was laid against his body. He shouted under the frustration. He needed to know something about her! The fact that she was even here gave him proof that she was the key element. Gravity took its course. The force plummets his overly cumbersome body to the ground. Curtis broke a sweat in his near crawl position, unable to drag himself outside the room. He watched after her blurry footsteps. It grew hazy while her partner followed her in tow. He couldn't move instead he lay there panting for air. What was going to happen to him? Was he going to be stuck here forever? He was one step closer to figuring out what happened here. He grabbed for the empty air before him, hoping that the floating streams of sand would be there.

The force increased over him, pressing him deeper into the floor. Bit by bit the flames spread eating everything in its path. Curtis looked once more at the lopped-off head on the carpeted floor accompanied by the rest of its body parts. The legs of the headless shopkeeper jerked slightly. The vile corpse acted like a chicken that just lost its head due to the nerves still firing off signals. Curtis's eyed the body harder despite his extreme discomfort. The legs jerked once again, but this time in a rapid motion. It was twitching and thudding against the floor like rapid electrical currents were pulsing through it.

Curtis's eyes looked at the vampire corpse amazed. Was this thing still alive after all? He thought, but the look of amazement suddenly turned to that of fear. A swarm of black soot came out of the exit wounds of the corpse causing the jerking motion. The soot condensed into a black cloud twirling above the body parts. Even though it looked like a black cloud, it made a sparking sound. Like the particles were colliding with each other causing the misplaced sound.

The corpse finally came to a stop as if the struggle for reanimation wasn't going to happen. Now that was left or that was inside the vampire was a black soot cloud rolling within itself. The cloud drifted away in small motions until it sped across the burning room finally finding the exit. The sparking sound turned to a howl that followed the cloud into the basement. Despite its appearance, the black smoke was condensed mass, as it collided with other solid forms of matter it knocked over a few things that were in its way.

Grasping motions came from Curtis's mouth, as he finally said, "What the hell?" That thing sped into the basement like it was fearing for its dear life. But why didn't it escape outside? Thoughts and questions plagued him about the possibilities as he frantically racked his brain. The only thing that came to him was something down there was important. The only thing that the Order found was bones and chained mummified women in stone caskets. Since the soot cloud came from the corpse of the shopkeeper. Does that mean that was the true identity of the vampire?

In a struggle, Curtis once again held up his hand, hoping to grasp the streams of sand that swam throughout the room. He needed to go back to his time quickly. Beads of sweat started to protrude from his smooth caramel skin. Curtis trying to grasp the sands to his advantage started to take a lot out of him. The veins on his forehead started to protrude, showing how much strain he was putting on himself. "Take me back!!!" He frantically thought. The sand paused along with the flaming destruction of the building. Curtis back arched upwards painfully as the middle of his palm pulsated. As he looked closer to the sight before him, from his hand he saw the sand circlet within his palm. The pain from his palm outweighed his newfound backache. It felt like a hole was tearing itself open in his hand.

The once still sand flowed a lot faster around the room fast-forwarding the events of the scene. The fire engulfed the shop to the point only a few blackened structures were left behind. The figures of khaki uniforms from the Order swept by examining the crime scene and leaving just as fast. In a few seconds of the absence of human life. Curtis turned his head to see him and Corey looking around the crime scene. This was the time to stop. He focused his eyes once more on his hand raised before him. The pain emitting from his hand pulsated down his arm numbing other senses because he didn't realize that there was a fresh coat of bright blood running down his arm. Curtis ground his teeth to endure the pain, as he held onto his numb arm.

He started to close his hand to stop the swirling vortex of the sand. As he did so, the time began to slow. Up to the scene when Corey was trying to comfort him. And from there in Corey's eyes, he vanished. He closed his palm completely stopping the raid flow of sand. In relief, he breathlessly called out to the big fellow. "Help!" Curtis coughed as he gasped for air.

Corey looked startled at the suddenly exhausted yell for help from Curtis. Who was no longer before him, but on the blackened floor. The look of death almost embraced the youthful-looking fellow. "Holy heck Curt! What happened to you?!" The man ran over to him, picking him up from the floor and putting him over his shoulder.

"I can walk!" Curtis barked towards the bigger man, as Corey held onto him while he ran to the parked vehicle. "No time for embarrassment Curt. You were there one second and gone the next, knocking on death's door." Corey breathed out. "Got to take you back to Headquarters, report to Sage Anthony--"

"There's something in the Order." his voice came out weakly as the thought dawned back to him. What he had to do before that monster causes harm.

"You're right! There's Jonas! He should come quicker!" The man known as the steel muscle said in a panic. He went into his back pocket to begin the search for his phone as he slipped Curtis into the backseat. The wounded man laid there staring at his bloodied hand. At the center of his palm, a black perfectly etched hole that was the size of a bottle cap was there.

As Curtis peered deeper into the hole, he saw no bones or flash, only the blood that leaked from it. But what he saw within the wound was pure darkness. This was the result of him forcing the stream of sand to revert time. Even though his time wasn't affected, if it was, he wouldn't be in this sorry state that he is in now. A sense of strength washed over him as his thoughts of uselessness, and being weak among the strong started to dissipate. He had the power to do something now. "There's a vampire in the Order!" Curtis finally blurted out, catching Corey's attention.