i added a prologue for no other reason than i desperately want this story to be like slightly more organised and better (but adding a prologue is like slapping a bandaid over a knife wound lol)
The sun had long set, an eerie darkness casting over the world outside the laboratory window.
Hunched over a desk was a girl, pale and small, deep in concentration. Her notes scattered the surface; graphs, equations and sketches of an assortment of crystals, question marks, perhaps even food stains.
She chewed at the tip of her pencil, humming to herself in thought. Next to her was a slick, black box of colourful rocks, each placed with care and labelled accordingly. Beside that, a mat, some strange instruments, and a slightly-charred glove.
The girl set her pencil down with a huff and tucked her hair behind her ears, maneuvering over to the box of crystals. With a pair of tweezers, she plucked out two—one that shined almost as luminous as the sun, and the other a deep, ominous navy blue as the night sky. Careful, as if not to disturb them, she placed them on the mat and reached for a magnifying glass.
Luka had warned her to exercise caution with these crystals. Of course she knew they were dangerous, but curiosity always drew her back to them.
She studied their surfaces carefully, jotting down notes with her free hand on a notebook nearby. She chewed on her lip in thought.
Her previous experiments and research had come up rather unsuccessful, and she seemed to be the only one brave enough to meddle with some of the most unpredictable crystals known to magic. Perhaps the long line of chaos and tragedies that plagued modern history when tampering with such materials kept most people away, but she—well, she could care less, knowing too much about the corruption of the world around her.
Setting down her pencil, she reached for a pick and summoned a flame in her other hand, bringing it close to the surface of the darker crystal. Orange, red, purple light danced across its surface; deep inside, something began to glow.
Intrigued, she started scratching at the surface with her pick, slowly chipping away small fragments of the crystal. They oozed a dark smoke. Odd, she noted in her mind, but remained indifferent.
After carving a deep enough gash in the crystal, it began to spark, almost in protest. She paused, hesitating over whether to continue, to push the boundaries.
But her curiosity got the better of her.
Once again, she brought the pick to the surface—and almost immediately, a bright, white-hot light exploded from the desk surface, sending her back into the wall of the laboratory.
The girl gasped, air being knocked from her lungs. Her vision went hazy, filled with black spots, and she tried to pick herself up off the floor after catching her breath, but her body had gone entirely numb; she flopped like a fish on the cold, stone floor.
A sharp pain brought her attention down to her hand. There, she made a terrifying discovery.
Black veins wound across her arm, like vines climbing the side of a building; her eyes travelled to the palm of her hand, where they gathered, eating out a hole in the fabric of her glove. In the centre of that hole was a rather unpleasant, throbbing black lump in her hand.
Panic began to set in, and with all her strength, she crawled across the floor to her work desk; eyes scanning the surface for the crystal she'd been fiddling with moments before. It was nowhere to be seen.
She grabbed for a scalpel, and with a deep breath, tried to slice into the mass jutting out of her palm. As soon as it grazed the surface of her skin, a terrible, piercing pain rocked her body, and she screamed, dropping the scalpel.
The girl rolled over to throw up on the floor, tears stinging her eyes.
This was bad. This was very, very bad.
Her vision grew blotchy yet again, like something was trying to pull her under. It was angry, it was angry; wanted revenge. Don't touch me.
She coughed, this time, a black, metallic-tasting substance ejecting from her body.
Dear god, was she dying?
Fighting to keep herself awake, she crawled under her work desk, curling into a ball on the floor. Hot tears slid down her face, hitting the stones beneath her. Plop, plop, plop. She shuddered, another wave of pain passing through.
Her vision blurred, the room turning bright white, then normal again. Something warm trickled from her nose. Blood? She couldn't tell—her body could barely move.
Her hand twitched, coloured black, purple, blue; looking hideously beyond any saving at this stage. The other crystals—that were once in her glove—seemed to have melted into her skin in an array of colours, like ice-cream on a hot, sunny day.
Finally, her body gave in.
Despite a moan of protest, the cold, welcoming hand of unconsciousness turned the room dark. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and soon, she was no longer there. She was no longer anywhere.