THUNK 

He rubbed his sore back, and clambered back onto the chair. I supposed before I stormed in cheerfully, he had been resting his legs on the hilt of the rusted chair. 

The room was just as same as ever– russet rusted walls, the sunlight from the window which sunk in, and the innumerable abandoned cupboards full of crawling spiders. That she rubble scattered all over in heaps of brick, plaster, and dust. Lots of dust. "What're you doing here?" We both asked in unison. Its really abrading to have your sneaking place bugged off. Especially when it's a newbie responsible for the crisis. 

"I don't know about you, but I'm seriously ticked off right now." My secret haven had managed to remain hidden for quite some time. Oh well. It was nice while it lasted. 

Chase look just as ticked, "Huh. And here I thought I was the only one aware of this place." 

"Apparently, we both has similar ideas. Now, if you please, I'd like my privacy." 

He should have been in a right mind to hand my place back but Chase looked anything but. 

"Apparently, none of us have similar ideas." A woman's voice crooned from beside me. Oh shit. I cursed in five different languages. This probably meant-

The woman was practically alive from my nightmares. There was nothing scarier than the dean of the institute. She wore a flowery pink chenille dress with petite slippers. Her short brown hair was matted evenly, and the pink notepad in her palms demanded to be torn. Umbridge and the dean would've made best friends. She'd forced a smile of sorts, and her green teet-

Her green teeth. 

Shoot. 

The second the realisations hit me, cryptoceria lunged not at me, but at Chase. Who was defenceless against seriad venom. That scheming bitch. I don't know why I did this (it isn't the first time it happened), but I closed in between the vengeful seriad and Chase just as a jet of venom unleashed from cryptoceria. 

The liquid seared through my skin, eating away, revealing sticky blood and flesh underneath. The demoness howled in delight– She'd should have known better than that, acknowledging victory in the middle of battle usually jinxes you– and her green interminable tongue slithered out of her aversion of a jaw. The muscles in popped and crackled as the green lasso wound up around me, probably due to lack of frequent use. Cryptoceria had sworn I'd be the first person she used her weapon on after her palatial defeat. 

She went for my neck. Blood curdled in my mouth as I bit the lips, attempting to not giver her the satisfaction of my agony. 

"Do... do you... know how to fight a scorpion?"

She smirked. "Always talking nonsense, dalta." That hurt more than it should have. Flashes of memories delineated themselves, inadvertently causing me a bad headache. I shoved them away, squinting my eyes shut. The blood, the hurt o- no. Only positive energy. 

I regained my footing and poised as though unaffected. I soon found out I sucked at appearing unaffected. 

"The key is," I began, "Is to never let it's tail out of your sight." I summoned a piano on top of the demoness (My speciality, thank you very much). She instantaneously relived me of her hold, though I still stank like a  seven week year old piece of moldy blue cheese. 

Thick, convulsing arms tore through the piano wood. I shrugged, I had faced way abhorring monsters. With a snap of my fingers, Cryptoceria was officially on a vacation to eastern Poland, with her mate: the piano. How romantic. 

After the demoness had gone, the my stomach squeezed, and the a tenacious pain flared on the spots affected by the sizzling venom. The sweltering had significantly decreased on the outside, but I was sure that I had bursted, like, fifty organs. I'm not even sure that many exist. 

"Explain yourself." I had forgotten Chase had caught a live recording of a typical dark dweller day. 

"Nah." 

"What did you...how di- okay, you just-" Chase struggled for words. I briefly explained that he was supposed to shut up in shock after such an encounter, but he didn't listen to my suggestion. 

I barely paid him any attention. "Listen big guy, yeah, I just did that. And that "thing" is Cryptoceria. Also, I will have to kill you if this goes on to anybody else. Plus, I'm in the third stage of dying, so excuse me while I patch up." I conjured of a vial of absedion, a healing tincture made of Sideritis and a tint of mandrake, and applied the paste on my wounds. I let out a grudging moan of relief. 

I felt Chase's eyes track me: as if that would stop me if I wanted to harm him. Potions and balms were easy to suffice my requirements and soon, the only thing left as a reminder of our meeting with dear Cryptoceria was the scars which remained on my skin. 

"Oh, and funkyhair, you're coming with me to discuss some stuff with the someone. Now."  I requested him. Normally, I'd transport the poor guy straight to hell, but I suspected it might... freak him out. Lucky dude, getting a request from me. 

He frowned. "Funkyhair?" He subconsciously touched his hair. Boys.  

"Hold my hand." Chase looked at anywhere but me. Like the walls said that, and not me. 

"If you want the worst class experience of hell, you're free to go alone." I said defensively. It still bothered me that I couldn't teleport two or more people if they weren't connected to each other through some sort of physical contact. 

"Uhh maybe I'll just go an-"

I grabbed his hand and the scene dissolved into hazy mist. To unicorn street, glitter centre, hell. I gave the address. 

***

Dalta– Student in Irish.