Prologue

There are people who are foolish and there are those who are stupid. I have my own vision how to separate these two words. I have moments, when I call myself stupid or foolish and there is a way, I choose which one of these two to use.

"Lookie here! The bitch is fucking scared!" The mocking, sick amusement is not missing from that voice. The laughter that follows sends chills down her spine, but that is to be expected. This person had threatened to kill her earlier and the others were not so much better than this evil incarnate. The laughter is a sound that could make anyone's skin crawl.

"I think she is going to pee her pants, hm." This voice is not expressing its own laughter with loudness, but by the tone that it used. Though, the third laughter follows soon after.

Parsley's knees are actually buckling against one another. What she experiences is the purest form of terror, but it is so strong that she can't move an inch with her shaky limbs. Unshed tears are already burning, none have fallen down, yet – at least, she doesn't think so. To these demons, monster, disgusting, revolting, terrifying, creatures that have had their hands soaked in blood, she is a weakling. A trapped mouse that has no way to escape from the darkness, from their grasp. She has nowhere to hide, run to or anyone to hear her screams of help.

Why is this happening to me?

The air around her feels like it is becoming colder by many degrees, despite the fact that she is sweating. Her hands are slippery. Her friend is nowhere in sight to share any comfort or reassurance, so the poor brown-haired woman is all alone. But she is not. Far from that.

The thought is almost laughable, how she, who never wanted to have anything to do with this, ended up being surrounded by killers. If Parsley's mind would not be so numb right now, she would start laughing hysterically. The endless blackness around her is driving her mad. The laughers are breaking every piece of confidence that there is.

New voices keep popping up and Parsley tenses up from every one of them. They are the voices of those that could, more like would, be her doom.

"Can we just get this over with? This girl is a waste of time."

Stupid is a word I use on myself, whenever I make or do something because of obliviousness to consequences or I'm lacking in the brain department. It is close to someone who doesn't know what one plus two is, in my opinion. Dumb, braindead and an airhead are what I could be from time-to-time.

Or, maybe I am also stupid, because I am naïve, too.

Please, please, please, please, please, please let this be over.

Frantic heartbeat rings in her ears that are being bitten by the chilly air. Parsley doesn't understand why there is almost no light around her. The only thing she mostly sees are vibrating outlines of large forms. Another cold shiver shakes her body, every sense active.

"Girl."

She isn't a child, but an adult. Yet, the brunette might look like a shaking child afraid of trolls jumping out of the closet. However, she manages to lift her eyes that are probably angry red and glittering from salty drops. The eyes that stare back at her are piercing and she wishes to look away immediately. If she would, nothing good would become of it, though.

Obey, listen and stay alive.

For a moment, she dares, dares to look to the side and see her friend on the ground. Red color against the bluish shaded fur is being covered by the shadows and golden eyes have not yet been opened. It isn't even certain, if he is still breathing. But if he is, he certainly wouldn't survive long enough.

Although, she is afraid, Parsley can't deny how hot and white anger clashes against the fear with full force. They struggle, mix, forming a color that is murky brown like a dirty puddle.

"You shall answer my questions." The voice leaves no room for an argument. Suffocating any sound of protest on the lips. "Do you understand?"

All that Parsley does is nod weakly and keeps her frozen gaze on the one who is addressing her. Even with their distance, a snap and her neck could be broken or something that is far worse than a quick death.

As for the word 'foolish'... I use it when my emotions get the best of me. When that little part of me that I call my human consciousness starts gripping and squeezing my heart, demanding for me to choose what it wants. It is supposed to be the right path that I take for it, but that is not how life works.

I know how to use my head, I know what kind of place I live in. Though, the world of a magician doesn't always meet with the reality. Magic is what we harvest, after all.

That is why I am writing this, to not get drowned by reality and by the horror I am witnessing.

How can these things be human?