Disclaimer: Anything that you recognize to be Stephanie Meyer's is, and I don't own any of her characters.

Fear, Hope, and Burning

Chapter 2: Danger Aproaches

Everything—the walls, the sky, the cells of the Asylum—were being wrenched past my eyes at an unearthly speed. He was a tachyon carrying me away.

But to what? I still had the microscopic amount of sense to think. Where would he take me?

I would never know the answer to

that question.


The stitches of fabric that still clung to my body could hardly be called clothes anymore. They flapped in the wind, as did my hair. The dark locks streamed behind me as the man's inhuman speed somehow managed to increase. Some little space in the back part of my brain told me I should be terrified, and impossibly dizzy, from all that had happened in the past few…minutes?…and this breakneck speed. But I wasn't. I felt an odd sense of comfort, even.

That was, until we stopped.

It was abrupt, unexpected. My savior was stiff as stone, only slightly moving his arms to unlock my stranglehold around his neck, and he set me on the ground on my feet.

I stumbled for a bit, but then got my footing. Dazed some, but still half focused, I realized the elderly man was inching me behind him and then, too quickly, leaning into a crouch, a deep guttural sound escaping his lips.

I peaked to the side of him, my eyes scanning the area slowly, taking everything in. They had almost completed a full round when I froze.

Right there, about 9 yards away, stood a tall, catlike man with the same complexion as my rescuer, but with bright, ruby eyes, eyes that glowed like the fiery pits of Hades.

And they had a strange look in them, as if they thirsted for something, and I was deathly afraid by now that it had something to do with me.