2 •01•

"Isaiah! My baby!" He let out a laugh as he watched the small woman run up to him with open arms. She was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and a black t-shirt, her chocolate brown hair up in a bun and her hazel eyes showing nothing but pure happiness.

"Hi mom," he said as he leaned down, welcoming her outstretched arms in the biggest hug she could muster.

"Oh, it's only been a year since you moved out and yet it still feels like centuries," she said, breaking the hug before placing her soft and tender hands gently on his cheeks. "And your face! Oh, you look so much older. Where did my little boy go?!" She quickly moved her hands, adjusting them so her fingers could get a good grip on his cheeks.

"Mom, stop," he said, swatting her hands away from his face. "I'm not a little kid anymore."

"Sadly," she said, a mournful expression briefly covering her face. Confusion filled Isaiah's head as he examined his mother's expression, one she was obviously trying to hide from him.

"Mom is-" She clapped her hands together, a larger smile filling her face as she pivoted on the balls of her feet.

"Come on, let's get you something to eat. It's such a terribly long trip, so you must be absolutely famished," she said as she sauntered towards the kitchen, Isaiah following close behind. Though she looked happy, and sounded like nothing was bothering her, he knew she wasn't fine. Her eyes held nothing but sorrow and fear, and her shoulders were tense. She was on edge about something, but Isaiah didn't know what.

"I wasn't able to get much prepared, but a salad and some sandwiches should be sufficient, right?" She said as she walked over the fridge, opening it and pulling out a large, red plastic bowl with a sheet of plastic wrap tightly fastened to the top.

"That sounds perfect," Isaiah said as his mother gently put the bowl on the countertop in front of him. She pulled off the plastic wrap, tossing it in the trash before grabbing a white, glass bowl that sat on the counter right next to the sink.

"So, what have you been up to this last year?" She said, scooping some of the salad into the bowl.

"Nothing special. I've been focused on school and work, so I haven't really been able to do anything crazy," he said, taking the bowl his mother held out to him with a small nod.

"You've still been able to make friends though, right? Ones you spend time with at least once a week?"

"Yes mom," Isaiah sighed.

"And you've been taking care of your health? Three meals a day? Taking all of your vitamins?"

"Do you really think I'd be here if I wasn't?" Isaiah cockily asked.

"Now, don't you be getting smart with me wise guy," his mother said, jabbing her finger in his direction. Isaiah chortled as he leaned backwards to avoid her jabbing finger.

A light rapping sound from the front door causing the two of them to fall silent. Hesitantly, his mother slowly moved away from the counter and towards the door, Isaiah walking right on her heels.

"Who could that-"

"Cassie," a young woman's voice sang through the door. His mother snapped her neck to look back at him, her face pale and her eyes filled with nothing but fear.

"Hide," she whispered, pushing Isaiah into her small study. "Under the desk, there's a small door hidden in the wall. Quickly knock two times in the center and it'll pop open. It may seem small, but you'll fit, just make sure you close the door behind you."

"Wait, mom!" Isaiah said, trying to protest before his mother slammed the door in his face, a prominent click following immediately after. He could hear faint footsteps moving away from the door as he shook the stiff handle, frantically trying to get the door open.

'No, no! What is she doing?! If this is so serious then why isn't she the one hiding?!'

It was silent as Isaiah finally gave up on the handle, frantically scanning the room trying to think of another way out. He had to find a way out. His mother looked terrified, and he couldn't just sit not knowing what was going.

His body froze as a loud bang rang through the house, shaking books off of its place on the bookshelf and some of his mom's trinkets from her cluttered desk.

'An explosion?!'

He shot back to the door, his hand grabbing onto the handle of the door again before he froze at the sound of multiple sets of footsteps.

"We wouldn't have had to do this if you answered right away like usual Cassie," the same woman's voice from earlier said.

'Usual?'

"What do you want?" His mother spat out.

"You know what," the woman said harshly.

"Then you should know my answer," his mother said. He could hear footsteps inch their way closer to where he stood. His breathing fell silent.

"Why don't you remind us all what that would be exactly?" The woman asked, her voice sickenly sweet.

"Over my dead body you impertinent pigs!" His mother snapped. Silence filtered throughout the house, leaving the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"He's here... isn't he?" The woman said. Isaiah could almost feel the victorious smile that was being etched on her face.

"Don't be stupid," his mother spat. "We all know that the moment he graduated high school I set him up with an apartment far from here. It's been over a year since then and I haven't even talked to him once."

"Yeah?" The woman asked sweetly. "Then explain to me why my vagary isn't working on you. Your brain always seemed to accept it before." His mother fell silent, leaving a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Find him." Loud footsteps sounded as doors slammed opened around him. His heart rate quickened as he scrambled away from the door, his back hitting the wall behind him. His head shot around the room as the slamming of doors and crash of glass made their way closer to him, his ears pounding.

His hand shot out to grab the desk chair, slinging it across the room as he quickly climbed under the desk. Without thinking, he quickly knocked two times on the wall, a small click reached his ears as a square panelling popped away from the wall. He reached out, grabbing the side of the panelling before freezing as the door handle started to shake.

"This door's locked Morigana," he could hear a male voice say from the otherside of the door, sending a shiver down his spine.

"There's nothing in that room. That door is always locked," his mother said.

"A little quick to respond, aren't we?" The woman asked. His mother didn't respond. "So, where's the key Cassie?" His mother still didn't respond.

"Cassie, you have to give us the key, otherwise whatever is not important in there will go kaboom," the woman said sweetly.

"Do. Your. Worse." Isaiah could hear feet scurrying towards him. In a quick, seamless motion, he pulled the panel open, sliding into the wall feet first. He grabbed onto a small piece of rope that was fastened to the backside of the panel, slamming it shut just as an explosion rung through the room.

~~~

He could hear nothing but a ringing in his ears as he cracked open the panel after what felt like hours, seeing nothing. Hesitantly, Isaiah pushed the panel fully open, scanning the room to see broken wood, fallen drywall, shredded paper littered all over the ground.

He slowly started to crawl out of the hole, but his arms gave out underneath him as a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over him. He carefully rolled onto his back, his vision blurring as his eyes slowly closed.

~~~

The two walked through the open wall, stepping over the sharp shards of glass, drywall and wood.

"Those demons went all out here," he said, his brown eye scanning over the disaster of the barely standing house.

"Yeah, and my guess is that it was the Netvori. No other demon could cause this much damage in such a short amout of time," she said, tucking a strand of her shoulder-length curly red hair behind her ear as she picked up a wooden picture frame. The glass was shattered but she could still make out the smiling face of a woman holding an unenthused toddler in her lap, his electric blue eyes glaring at the camera.

"But what were they here for? There's only one person that lives here and she's a Silver," he said.

"Well, that Silver must have known, or had, something. The Netvori don't just go on random genocide sprees. It's too risky for the Sins to send their best weapons off without an important cause," she said, setting the picture on the leg of the upturned couch. The entire bottom was ripped out as springs stuck out ready to stab any unlucky soul who wasn't paying attention.

"Then what could they have been here for? This Silver obviously put up a fight in preventing them from getting their hands on it," he said, watching her walk around the room, kicking debris out of the way to try and find something valuable.

"I don't know, but look, Jayce. Someone else was here," she said, pointing to a pair of slightly charred, size ten, black tennis shoes.

"Or still is," Jayce said. "Quick, look to see if they're here and alive." The two of them shot to opposite sides of the house, digging through giant piles if fallen drywall from the walls and ceiling.

"Do you think this person could have been the thing the Netvori was looking for? There's no record of their being another person living with the Silver, so they were definitely only visiting," she said, her loud voice ringing through the house as she opened another door.

"Maybe, but why would they..." Jayce trailed, his head slowly turning to look at her with a hopeful expression.

"No. That's just a silly story, it's not true," she said, entering the room.

"But what if it is?" He asked, quickly trailing after her.

"It's not. The Netvori has been completed for the last three years. If this so called 'prophecy' was real, don't you think that the son of Gabriel would've showed up then?" She asked, holding her hands out in front of her as a chunk of white drywall slowly floated off of the ground, revealing more shattered glass.

"But the Netvori weren't that big of a threat then. Sure, they were dangerous, but it wasn't anything that a group of top members couldn't handle," Jayce said as she dropped the chunk of drywall back onto the ground. "Abbie, now they are the strongest they've been in the last 800 years. If the prophecy is to come true, now is the time it would start to be put into action."

"And give us very little time to train him, that's just stupid and unfair," Abbie said, irritation lacing her voice.

"God has his own plan for everything and you know it," Jayce snapped, the two of them walking out of the room.

"Yeah.... well, even if this person was what they were looking for, they must've found them. There's no one here, dead or alive," Abbie said, motioning to the empty house behind her as she watched Jayce walk through another giant hole in a wall.

"Or they didn't look in the right spot," Jayce said, freezing in his tracks. "But I don't blame them. I don't think even God himself would ever think about looking inside of a wall." Abbie walked up behind him, her eyebrows furrowed as she peered around him to see the head of a guy sticking out of a square hole in the wall. His wavy, chocolate brown hair fell over his closed eyes, a relaxed expression covering the tan skin of his face.

"Holy shit," she whispered as the two of them slowly inched their way towards him. "Is he alive?" Jayce slowly bent down next to him, carefully pressing two of his fingers to the bottom of the guy's neck.

"Yeah, but we should still get him some help," Jayce said, moving more debris out of the opening. "Can you pull him out?"

"Yeah," Abbie said, fully entering the room. She rose her hands, slowly sliding them in the air from the wall the guy was in to the one parallel. Her eyebrows furrowed, as she repeated the same action a second time, then a third.

"What's wrong?" Jayce said, looking at her from where he sat as she was frantically sliding her hands in the air.

"My vagary isn't working," she said, her eyes glued to her hands.

"What?" He asked, standing off the ground as he stared at her.

"My vagary isn't working. No matter what I do, nothing happens," Abbie said, dropping her hands to her sides. The two of them looked down at the guy, a brief silence filtering through the room.

"Well," Jayce said, rolling the sleeves of his black long-sleeved shirt up past his elbows. "I guess we're doing this the old fashioned way."

***