He bobbed in and out of conciseness over the next couple days. Sometimes a face greeted him, and their voices would sound, but Jack could never hear their words through the agony that claimed his mind, not a physical pain, but a dull throbbing as his brain was pumped with memories. They came in dreams, and he seemed to witness his whole life again, with a strange feeling of deja vu lingering in the air. He remembered pleasant memories; Calvin teaching him to ride his bike, hiking in the woods, nursing injured forest animals with Emily, hiking with his father, and doing his homework with his mother. They were like a trickle of cool water, soothing him between the fire that burned in his unhappy memories. Being claimed by the shadows. Trying to control his powers. The day his parents left and never came back.. Each unbearable moment was fuel to the flame that eroded his self consciousness, a sharp pain that his brain bore. But none was so painful as the day his sister was stolen from him.
Calvin had always told him to never overdo his powers. Of course, he wasn't told a reason why. He was just to do what he was told without question. So, naturally, he had to try when Cal wasn't looking.
Earlier, Cal had shot down an elk, so they could make jerky for long hunting trips. It lay on the ground, awaiting Cal’s hunting knife to be skinned.
Glancing nervously at the door where Calvin had disappeared, Jack lifted his shaking hand. He turned back to the elk and closed his eyes. The leaves rustled and a slight breeze tickled Jack's neck. When he opened his eyes, the elk was standing before him. Its eyes were still glazed, but its limbs attempted to move themselves, though it's already eroded muscles mades its movements jagged and rough. Little Sarah watched her brother’s clever tricks, and she clapped her hands, walking towards the Elk to stand by Jack. Too late Jack realized his mistake, and he mentally dropped the Elk. He was not fast enough.
The monstrosity that emerged from the ground was the same size as Jack. It was swirling black whirlwind, its winds cold and coated with misery, a misery that coated Jack’s lungs, so he couldn't breath and could move. He collapsed upon the ground, looking for anything that might help him to rescue his sister, but he was too weakened. For he should have know, the art of necromancer is forbidden in the shadow world. This black funnel was only coming to claim the tax that Jack owed, a life for a life. It was combination of misfortune and luck that Sarah was standing where Jack had stood, and the devil’s tax collector engulfed Jack’s little sister, and her terrified eyes were the last thing that pierced him before she sunk into the ground, and Jack hated himself for the twinge of relief he felt as he scraped at the ground where his sister had disappeared.
The yelling he endured was almost worse. Almost. Calvin's rage had seared at his brain, at his face and arms, and he had a black eye to prove it. He had fled, limping but still fast, to the house (Because though Cal was strong, Jack was must faster than his brother) and stole the jar of pitch black powder that Cal had hidden under his bed. He fled, leaping from the second story window and rolling, as Calvin roared with rage from the window from which Jack had soared. He ran, and ran, and ran until he arrived in the old shack.
But now, here he lay, in his too small shorts in his old room. The walls were cobalt blue, save for the wall above his bed, which was a giant chalkboard, and bordering the chalkboard was a painting of a blue nebula. There were black shelves along the wall, holding an assortment of items, from a jar with a butterfly cocoon in it to a oddly shaped piece of driftwood. Underneath sat a black desk, and a small blue fishtank with a vibrant blue beta fish on the inside. Jack got up off his blue nebulized bed cover, stretching and yawning. He decided to shower, and he cept from his room to the bathroom.
Long ago, the children has spread out in the house. Jack and Sarah shared the upstairs and they each had their own bathroom. Calvin was in their parents old room. Emily had the hallway that lead off of the kitchen, with a room and a bathroom. All the walls of the house were soundproof, so Jack could shower without waking his siblings, though he was still paranoid.
After his shower, Jack changed into jeans and his black leather jacket. He wore a grey t-shirt underneath, and he combed back his hair in a smooth wave. Jack brushed his teeth till they were gleaming. He laced up some strong, black tennis shoes on his feet, and tucked a 7” hunting blade into a black sheath and velcroed the sheath to his leg, rolling his pants over it so it was undetectable.
<Jack. (This does not have anything to do with looking at hot guys on the internet. Probably.)
. After he was ready for the day, he pulled out his backpack (black, of course) and threw in the necessities, like some changes of clothes, matches, a flashlight and a water bottle. He left to catch some early breakfast, when he remembered his weapon.