Tires screeched and roared, engines tumbling and people talking, yelling, my ears felt as though they were to explode, I don't think I could have screamed loud enough to vent the pain that raced through my skull like a freight train, everything was too bright, the colors of the world beating hard into my irises as though my senses being invaded by everything wasn't enough. Wet pavement filled my nose and I convulsed, collapsing to the ground as the truck down the street lurched forwards and backwards, the heat of the engine brushing my face before someone ripped me from the middle of the street. I spun, crashing into the chest of the man who saved me, tears spilling from my eyes and my legs refusing to work. Kill me, please, it's too much, I can't feel my own face.

It stops suddenly, with the slamming of a door and the twist of the lock. I'm panting and making noises I never knew I could make on his couch and am fisting my hair in my hands. My cheeks are wet and I'm lightly sobbing, my breath coming out more than my noises. My toes curl into the cushion under me, and my knees tuck harder into my chest. I can smell him now that I've got something to compare him to, it's a dark musty smell, something predatory but fresh like rain in a damp forest, smelling of the dirt and the wet wood, of the sap and of the rotting leaves and fallen dying limbs, like wet ashes. It's addicting and relaxing but strong, and his entire house smells of him, I huff through my parted lips and try to comprehend why the color of everything has changed. His house is a dark brown color, nearly black, and it's like shiny graphite dust.

Four crouches in front of me, grasping my forearms and talking to me, "Tris, hey, I need you right now, can you look at me?" His hands snake up to my cheeks, his hands warm and calloused, my eyes squeeze shut tighter and my eyebrows come together, tears rushing more, my voice a weak babble of sound, "What's happening to me?"

"Look at me please, Tris, can you do that?" He asks me gently, rubbing his thumb along my cheek, wiping away my tears and tilting my head up. After taking in several deep breaths, my eyes peel open, and land on his face, his lips are pressed together and his eyes keep me rooted and breathing, they are a deep sleeping color that keep me calm. He looks worried, and surprised, but his tone suggests otherwise, "Hey," He soothes just as my breath catches in my throat, questions and fear racing through my head. My hands grip his wrists as tears flow down again, "Why,"

"I need you to stay calm and answer a few questions okay?" I nod to him and keep breathing,

"Do you have an older sibling?"

"Yes,"

"Were you in an accident as a child that you can't remember the whole of?"

"I- what does-"

"Just," He stops me, his thumbs reaching back to my ears, "Answer the questions first and I will answer as many of yours that I can, okay?"

"No, I wasn't," I finally tell him,

"Was your sibling?"

"Not that I know of,"

"Are you still in contact with your parents?"

"They… They died a week ago in a house fire," Disappointment and sadness washes over his expression and he lets me go. He walks to the kitchen and gets me a glass of water, coming back and letting me sip on it, helping me really, as I keep trembling. Once I've managed a few sips he takes it from me and takes my hands in his, thumbs pressing between my joints at the top of my hands. He looks up at me and sighs, "Tris, I need you to trust me,"

"Why, what are you doing?"

"Seeing if I can help you, okay? But I need you to trust me," His jaw clenches for a second, before he pulls his lips into a reassuring smile. It doesn't do as much charm on me as he must hope it does though, because I get an uneasy squeamish feeling in my bowels as he covered my eyes, his thumbs pressing harder into my skin as he rubbed one area in circles, numbing my hands completely before a tugging feeling started gently and then stopped as he slowed his movements, and then he rubbed the open palm of my hands instead, and there was a needle like feeling pressing hard into the beds of my nails and I hissed about to jerk before his hands kept me still. And then he stopped touching me and my eye cover was off.

I looked at him curiously, my lips parted and fingers twitching as the feeling came back to my hands, "What did you do?"

"Start with the easier questions first," He said, but I didn't understand what he meant by that. What could be an easier question to answer? "Why did the-everything-stop once you closed the door, and what happened out there?"

"Well, this is my house, I own the property and always will, so I renovated this place to be completely sound proof. When you went outside, you were unused to the noises and smells around you when I've set my house up to smell like one thing, your mind couldn't take it,"

"You keep saying smell,"

"What color am I?" He asked suddenly, handing me the glass of water,

"Your skin? A sunkissed tan-"

"No, what color am I?" He pressed, as if he were blind and he really couldn't tell, and then I understood, the haze that blanketed his house and him was what he was talking about, "If you concentrate you should be able to see it,"

"What am I concentrating on?"

"Look at my face, or the wall, your pick, either way, there should be a layer of shimmering surface in the air, much like heat rising from car hoods or asphalt on a hot day," Any other day I would have looked at him with my eyes narrowed and doubted his sanity and his own safety, but with the world crushing down on me as soon as I left this house, I was nearly prepared to believe anything. I took in a breath, my head turning to face the wall behind him, my eyes locked on his face, taking in how he studied me. Then my breath hitched as I did what he told me to, and I watched as the air around the area I looked at shimmered as though motes of metal were in the air, reflecting a bronze or oaky color. I didn't want to look at Four, I was afraid of what I might see, because his image shifted under my peripheral vision, and not in the good way.

With my eyes, I followed the path of lingering shimmering bronze color, some of it was smeared along the walls viciously, as though he literally rubbed up against the wall with his shoulder or hand. It was a strange sight, even stranger so, some of the shimmering areas turned into a muted grey color, flat instead of ever shifting and I turned to ask Four why, but his hand swiftly covered my eyes. My lips parted as his breath huffed on my cheeks as he spoke, "Ask your question,"

"Some parts are grey,"

"That's the scent fading,"

"How… How do you know all of this?"

"Ask another question," He said instead and I huffed with impatience. I was still internally freaking out, my heart jack hammering in my chest and threatening to break through, I could also hear it beating, the same way I would hear my mother's heart beat when I rested my head on her chest. I tried not to frown out of sorrow at the thought, but in fighting it, I only missed her more, wanted her here now more than ever. My mind spun, being stuck in the darkness for so long, and I reached out to steady myself, holding his wrist. My heart stuttered, but it didn't. I didn't feel my heart drop, so who- it was his. I could hear his own heart beating in his chest. I inhaled quickly and nearly stood up but his hand forced me to stay seated as it pushed on my shoulder.

I'm sure had it been anyone else covering my view and keeping me in place, while I could hear someone else's heart beat from a foot or so away as though it were right in my ear, I would have lost my cool and flipped out. But his smell invaded my senses as he mumbled in a soft voice to me, "I'm going to remove my hand now," I nodded, not really sure what he meant by the warning, my tongue thick in my mouth as the thick smell of earth and firewood was on my tastebuds, I could taste him.

His hand lifted from my eyes, and I stared at his chest, trying to remain calm as the murky color around the room was no longer here, or, it was, but I couldn't see it. My eyes climbed his torso, stopping on his face, locking gazes with him. I was positive he knew I was on the verge of freaking out, because he helped me to my feet and demanded of me to walk it off. Each step was shaky as I now had time to think, how had I gone from getting kidnapped to here? To my world ending before my eyes? At least everything wasn't crashing and burning. Suddenly Four was handing me a glass of water and staring at me, I took a well controlled sip much to my delight because I didn't spill all over myself.

I tried to ignore his intense gaze, his dark eyes boring hot bullet holes into my skin as I took in several deep breaths. I tried to push aside the crawling feeling my skin had, the buzzing of electricity whenever he got too close. Eventually I asked him, "So, I can't go outside,"

"Not as quickly as you did a while ago, but yes, you can,"

"So, I can leave?"

"I don't advise it," He pressed, crossing his arms over his chest and rooting me to the spot with his almost glare. Still, I fought that look he gave me when I jutted my chin up and stared him in the face, "I'll be leaving then, I need to go home," A ghost of a smile touched his lips and he stepped away from the door, almost as if he were daring me to go against his words. I bit my lip and took a few quick steps to the door, my hand falling on the handle before he clasped my wrist in his hand, I stared at him with narrowed eyes. His tone was something I couldn't place when he spoke to me, "You're surprisingly good at keeping your panic contained,"

"I dealt with my parents death very recently, I think if you've ever been through something like that, you'd know how easy it gets to keep everything inside," I nearly hissed at him, it didn't deter Four however, and the corner of his lips twitched at me, like he wanted to smirk at my behavior, "I'm just saying you're handling it better than the others did,"

"Others?" I asked, and I had fallen into his trap. My body was now more turned towards him than the door and I was suddenly pulled to the couch, he had impressive strength, and speed, I blinked and I was seated, staring at him. My stomach flipped, and I grew sick, something was very wrong with what he just did to me. My eyes narrowed, and I dared to ask him, "What are you?" The grin that came onto his face could only be described as wolfish.

"Don't get so upset," He cooed, and I held back a shiver as my nails dug into the beds of my palms.

"I'm tired of playing your games,"

"Oh?" He asked, eyes lighting up with amusement,

"What is going on? I know you know, so don't pull your fucking 'ask me something else' bull shit," I spit at him, my tone firmer than what it usually was and I watched the smile falter from his face. He sighed and looked at me, observing me, and assessing something about me before he stood up. I grew wary for a second, unsure of what he was doing as he walked to the far wall before me. He faced the wall as he spoke, stipping himself of his shirt, his back covered by a vast expanse of the most intricate and beautiful design of a tattoo I'd ever seen, "Some can change upon will, others follow the cycle," I tensed up, as his hands undid his belt loudly, my body heating up. Why was he undressing? He was my freaking boss, having me sit on his couch as he stripped. My cheeks heated madly as my eyes took in how his body flexed with each movement.

He kicked away his clothes and sighed, touching the wall as he muttered something before turning around to face me. I tried to avert my eyes, but he was.. He was a fucking Greek God. My breath hitched when his eyes locked onto mine, he smirked at me, "I'm a bit different though, and so are you," My brows furrowed, what did that mean? He licked his lips, laughing a bit before looking away from me, "It's okay to scream you know," And his eyes fell on me again as he finished his sentence, "I won't blame you."

I did scream, I screamed until my lungs stuttered and gave as I raced through his house away from it. I just had to get away. Fear skyrocketed through my veins and adrenaline told me to run instead of fight. I understood in the back of my mind, who in their right mind would fight that? I slipped, slamming into the door and cracking it off it's hinges as the door slammed into the wall, scurrying to the bathroom. I should be safe there right? I could hear it, getting closer, the sounds it gave off making me want to scream louder, but I couldn't I couldn't even scream. My lungs wouldn't let me. It was in my throat as I slammed the bathroom door, locking it and throwing myself under the sink in the cupboard. I had to hide.

I listened, covering my mouth and curling my knees tighter into my chest, almost hyperventilating through my nose as I stared at the entrance to the cupboard, looking through the crack at the door, watching the shadow of that thing pass by the door, under the gap between the door and the floor. Then it snarled and slammed into the door, the wood threatening to splinter under its strength. I tried not to cry, it would hear me. It snarled and growled at the door, ramming into it again. I whimpered, or at least I think I did. I closed my eyes, I didn't want to see it if I was going to die today.

For a while the only sound was my own breathing, my own pounding heart, my own voice inside my head telling me not to think about it. The smell tickling my nose as the images fought my pleading and I watched everything unfold again. I trembled in placed as I thought about his sick grin, and how he just fucking ripped apart. The smell and horrific image of his skin literally ripping apart as though his insides were too much for the cells to handle. The sick sound of skin ripping. And then, he was gone, and his skin was burning on the ground into fucking smoke. I watched and screamed as the thing he became snapped its jaws, saliva beading and lacing its teeth, the pearls sickening me as its face contorted into one of rage. And then I was running as it lunged for me, that awful snarl filling my ears. I could actually hear its teeth snapping together as it caught only air.

My eyes snapped open as the door handle twisted, turning carefully, the lock becoming undone with a soft click. How could it do that? It didn't even have hands. I wet my lips and drew in a shaky breath, grabbing something hard and sharp next to me, satisfied with myself that I grabbed scissors of all the things I shared this space with. The door swung open, and I shut my eyes, counting to five before I burst out of the cabinet, swinging the sheers in its direction as I tried not to scream.

I was off my feet and my breath rushing from my lungs as my back slammed to the floor. The scissors colliding with the glass of the shower loudly, the crack scaring me as I struggled to summon a decent breath into my lungs. My head pounded and I felt like crying, I refused to open my eyes as I withered on the floor, if it wanted to kill me, so be it.

It took me a moment to realize that I was sitting upright, courtesy of my arms locked in resistance, and hands pulling me. My eyes flew open just as a deep inhale hit me, hands, they were hands. Four looked at me, eyes showing concern and his lips a deep frown. Four looked at me. I cried in that moment, struggling to get away from him, but I wasn't nearly as strong as he was. I felt as he pulled me to him, the fabric of my shorts making it easy for him to pull me across the tile. My face was against his chest and he was on his knees, he put his arms around me, and I sobbed like a scared child in his embrace.

So this chapter is much shorter than the last, but most of this one was dialogue so I didn't put as much of the story itself into this chapter. The next one will be different. Tell me what you think?