The Vision

New York

Leander and Magnus hid from behind the wall as they watched the vehicle drive towards the exit. The third-degree clenched his jaw in anger and balled his fists till his knuckles turned white. He wanted to confront the beast, but he knew he'd be dead before he knew it.

They both recognized the dark-haired man; everyone who belonged in the Congregation was briefed on what the Abomination looks like. Centuries of having killed many of their kind, the Congregation was smart enough to avoid the man.

After seeing the car disappear from their view, Magnus ran immediately searching for the two women. His eyes wide, and the air caught in his chest. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage; his eyes darted all over for any sign of them. He hoped, he prayed to the gods and goddesses that they were still both alive.

On the other hand, Leander took his time walking around, searching yes, but not like Magnus was. Foolishly hoping they were still alive. The third degree knew that the two were dead, and he wondered why the Seer brought them there to the very place where the Abomination was. It didn't make sense to him; the Congregation had made an active effort to avoid the man for decades. But there they were, led to him. Or was he not seeing something vital?

'Aaah!' a sound erupted from Leander's right, he recognized the voice, and he walked towards where Magnus' voice erupted. He must've found them already, in the poorly lit parking lot that evening. The tall built man in his 20's paused mid-step, looking at the young first-degree who was sitting on the ground, panting, covered in a cold sweat. A few feet away from them was Serena's head, her cerulean eyes wide open looking at their direction, mouth parted as if in the middle of bellowing a scream.

The brown-haired man turned, scanning the place as he walked forward, searching for her body. And he came to a sudden stop after finding it behind a parked car.

Now the only one they needed to find was Ali; he knew she hadn't made it far. Vampires, after all, we're fast, too fast for their mortal bodies.

"Leander…"

He turned, looking at Magnus on the ground, tears streaming down his young face, something the older man couldn't blame him for. He reckoned it was his first time seeing another witch in that kind of fate. He, too, did the same after all, just in a different situation years ago, but that was a story for another day.

"What should we do?" the first degree asked, confused. He wasn't trained for that kind of situation. He knew that Witches and Warlocks were the guardians of the world. They were supposed to protect the vulnerable humans away from the dangers of the supernatural world. They were supposed to be the bridge between these two worlds, for peace. History had taught him that many had died for that very cause, and a lot had to be done just to keep the peace not only for humanity's safety but also for theirs. They all knew the viciousness humanity was capable of. The witch hunt had killed many of them.

If worse comes to worst, that war erupts between the supernaturals and humanity; they were hopelessly and hilariously outnumbered. That's why they made it their responsibility to keep the majority of the world ignorant of the truth about their kind.

The Bloodless Treaty, a pact between Vampires, Werewolves, and Witches, was constructed half a century ago for the very reason to ascertain that everything was under control. Feeding on humans and killing them was to be avoided, and those who break the law were to be investigated and dealt with to manage human deaths under their hands and avoid suspicions.

The three Kinds even work together once in a while, providing each other special services, like procuring enchanted trinkets for selected vampires to wear so they can walk in the sun. Werewolves provide their saliva to be used as a weapon against rogue vampires. And vampires provide services like allure, manipulating human witnesses' memories in special cases. All these are under the policing of the Congregation, making sure that balance is maintained.

Since the Bloodless Treaty half a century ago, Witch/Warlock deaths had gone down significantly. Most of its roots commonly come from Cleansing. Werewolves' family resisting and fighting against the Guardians.

Leander moved forward, noticing something in the distance. He approached the body immediately, his eyes furrowed together. Lying in the middle of the path was none other than Ali's body. The dirty blonde was lying face up, lifeless eyes staring forward into the unknown. blood drying in the corner of her mouth with a gaping hole on her chest where her heart used to be. And just a few feet from her was her heart. Leander gritted his teeth; anger filled him. They really are monsters, he thought.

He knelt before the body, and he sighed; he reached forward to close her eyes. The second his hand touched her, his eyes widened, and the air got knocked out of his lungs.

Her last moments were flashing to his mind in a flash. And he felt what she felt as the sharp claws pushed through her chest and ripped her heart out. The pain enveloped her, the confusion, the fear.

Leander collapsed, falling on his butt, and he scurried away in panic. Wanting to get away as though he was still there, panting, pounding on his chest with his fisted hand harshly. Making sure his own heart was beating. "Ah ! ah! Ah!" he repeatedly gasped, willing his body to keep breathing.

'What was that? What the hell was that?!' he wondered to himself, trying to calm his own throbbing heart. His eyes widened in realization; it was a woman.

A platinum blonde with two=tone coloured eyes and he wondered to himself.

Who the hell was she?