If I was asked to retrace my steps to where I ended up, I think I'd struggle. I wasn't entirely sure how I'd managed to hobble all the way here. The small window in front of me offered a somewhat pleasant view of old residential houses covered in a swarm of darkness, the smog of the night beginning to swallow them whole. The flickering streetlights were allowing glimpses of the ivory vines inching their way up the front of the building, nature reclaiming what we hadn't.

Something was jabbing me in the back, slowly but surely. I opened my eyes to peer into the dimly lit home. I must have lost consciousness for a while; the hues of dark blue having faded into a black tapestry of white dots. I shifted against the floorboards, a stack of books haphazardly placed against the wall behind me, toppling over.

Dust coated the inside of my mouth, making it hard to breathe. The twins must have disturbed the layers of dust that had accumulated throughout months of neglect. The pale moonlight filtering in through the sheer curtains did little to illuminate the family room I'd decided to collapse in but allowed me to watch the slow particles drifting through the air. My fingers carefully ran across the ripped threads in my trousers, clutching the thin strands when a wave of mind-numbing pain flooded over me.

I instinctively wrapped my arms around myself, feeling the dull ache continuing to thrive inside my throat and chest. Resting my head on my knees, the jolts of pain dulled just enough to let me close my eyes and breathe peacefully.

The drugs were making my head spin; the journey from Giorti to the outskirts of town was filled with staggers and pauses. My hand stayed clamped to different surfaces in order to keep my balance, skin now covered in scratch marks from the ragged brick walls I'd rested against.

In my hour of need, I was drawn to the small semblance of warmth I'd met in my long lifetime. Those two were so full of life and excitement in comparison to the half-dead that surrounded me on a daily basis; souls that were quite literally fighting to survive in more ways than one.

The more I thought about it, the more I had to regret my decision to come back to this small house of all places. As I sit staring up at the ceiling I can't help but think of Rudhairi and how furious he'd be if I died here. There were many people in my life that would certainly have a bone to pick with me if I let myself turn to ash here of all places, at the time the world was turning cold, but Rud would sit at the top of the list; the first in line to fight me over it.

If I had tried to make my way to Central, would the guards have let me through seeing the state I was in? Would I have managed to stumble through the zone and the crowds of people that visited at night, and then still manage to climb the stairs to his office? If I had done all of that, would I be in any better position than I was now?

The only real difference would have been a familiar face to die in front of as he scrambled around trying to find a way to fix me before I passed away for good. I had chosen to die alone because I was too stubborn to look for help where it was guaranteed to be.

It made me think of all those nights he clutched to my weakened body and forced me to down blood even when I choked on it; desperate to give away my life. Those nights, the worst ones, he'd never leave my side, lulling away my bad thoughts and convincing me I wasn't wrong for still being here. He listened to me rant and rave about my bad deeds, not interrupting, only reassuring me when I had run out of curses to give myself. He was even there when I had finally lost the love of my life to the war; wrapping me in a long hug that he didn't part from until I'd gone completely numb and needed to be dragged inside.

No one could compare to the friendship I held in Ruddy. Shit. If he could only see me now. He'd punch me hard enough to see stars.

Even Marianna and I's relationship seemed to pale in comparison, which I'm sure even she'd begrudgingly admit. On several occasions, she had stated she wouldn't consider herself above him, which, at the time I found odd because I'd spent more nights gorging myself with her than crying with him.

Even then, she could take comfort in the fact she'd still be second in line; and only by an inch. No one in my life fought for me as she did. I think she would be most likely to run to the entrance of the afterlife, find my hollow body and drag me to the surface by the ear.

That was one of my final coherent thoughts. That I could remember anyway.

I'd drifted in and out of consciousness for the past couple of hours, the effects of the poison taking its toll on my body. I could barely react to passing vampires that would run laps through the streets, unsettling fallen leaves as they came and went.

One of the floorboards in front of me let out a quiet creak, causing my head to whip up, clutching the bottle of alcohol in my trembling hand. My vision failed to focus on the oddly shaped figure that was taking more steps towards me; the barely beating heart I possessed found the ability to liven up its pace.

I found myself startled until the figure let out a soft, "Holy shit," in a barely familiar voice.

The judgemental tones of the male twin filled the room easily, echoing off of the walls and demanding my attention. I strained myself to focus on his features. The boy looked unmistakably harrowed, hair falling into his face and life completely drained from his eyes, "Why the hell are you sitting here in the dark? You scared the living daylights out of me, Nika."

I wanted to laugh, but my throat had closed up, a mere squeak leaving my lips. I held a single finger up towards him as I prepared myself to speak, taking deep gulps of air. The boy stood wearily, clutching his sister against his chest. Valentyna was restlessly writhing in his arms, pale and covered in blood. But I couldn't dwell on that; he was worrying enough for the both of us; his face was holding a permanent look of agony.

"I'm in pain," I say, clamping my eyes shut as I realise the fact, barely stopping myself from moving, nails clawing at the unbroken flesh on my legs instead. I let out a small groan and open my eyes, "Everything hurts," I admit. Valentyna exchanges a look with Alexander before he steps further into the house and looks at me sideways; clearly unamused.

He hummed with mild interest but remained silent as his eyes trailed the walls of the house. My current predicament was doing little to faze him; his mind was currently charting out a course to aid the one thing he cared about. In our short interactions, I could tell his utmost goal was his sister's health and well-being, caring little for others or the consequences that would occur due to this mindset.

"What's with the face?" I ask before taking in as much air as I could with a sharp intake of breath. He'd stepped into the light, allowing me to see a prominent gash in his cheek, running from his eye to lower lip in size. He'd shuddered a little, his grip on Valentyna tightening.

Darkness had filled his eyes as memory returned to him; and even when he'd refocused himself, that darkness lingered, "Funnily enough, even when you're pumped full of neutraliser, carrying a human person who's covered in her own blood tends to attract you lot,"

My eyes had homed in on Valentyna once again, her once lilac dress had soaked in a large layer of blood, the splotch taking up most of the fabric in front of her stomach.

I swallowed back my concern as I looked up at the twins, "How is bringing her here going to help that situation, Alexander? There's a hospital in Central that would be more prepared for something like this."

I found myself being hypocritical, knowing full well I should've taken myself to that very same hospital. Even through the hot and cold flushes, my body was experiencing; I managed to continue my streak of judgemental snarkiness with him. Despite each word that left my mouth, causing me immeasurable pain, I wanted to unleash a rant on the twins. I couldn't help but imagine their reasoning for rushing to their 'childhood home', most likely pertaining to wanting to be in their own home when they died. The very idea of that was enough to bring me to tears.

He looked at me with fuelled scorn, "We're going to the witches," As soon as he'd said it he'd looked me up and down, clearly insinuating he could say the same about me.

I had to pause and blink, the sentence barely computing. The same boy that barely understood the notion of witches was now implying he knew all about them with little hesitation. I couldn't help but narrow my eyes, trying to get up from the floor but my legs gave out.

"You didn't even know they existed a few days ago and now you just happen to know where to find them?" I mutter, my eyes focusing on him as he squirmed under my gaze; regrettably remembering that red eyes often left humans feeling rather uneasy. When his nervousness failed to dissipate, I couldn't help but pry deeper, "What aren't you telling me, Alexander?"

The boy sighs, looking down at his sister with concern before revealing, "Our mother was a witch. Our family line is one of the original witch lines. Which means when the witches decided to block up all the gateways to the underground, they left our doorway open."

As he spoke, I looked at Valentyna, barely conscious in his arms. There were clear signs of what was happening to her now I had more information; the purple marks swirling on her cheeks were a major indication of what had happened in the short time we'd been apart. I'd originally assumed she'd been stabbed, or otherwise maimed, but now I knew it was something else.

"That's what this is, isn't it? Adverse reactions to a vampire bite?" He shuddered quickly, a nod barely registering. I couldn't help the anger from welling up inside my gut, the clear diversions from my request clearly laid out in front of me, "Didn't I tell you not to enter this zone again? How did she manage to get bitten by a vampire, Alexander?"

He fails to reply, a deep silence enveloping the room. I realise I shouldn't blame him for any trouble his sister had found herself in, but I couldn't help but feel he had a part in it. While Valentyna was the more outgoing of the two, it was clear to me that Alexander made the decisions and she followed along like a small puppy. I had to conclude that Alexander had decided to come here, perhaps even alone, but Valentyna was bound to follow whether he agreed or not.

He looked down, meeting her eyes and smiling softly. With a quick movement, he cupped her face with a single hand, moving strands of her hair from her eyes with his arm straining to hold her. She let out soft sounds as she forced herself deeper into his chest, painful groans following.

Alexander averted his gaze for a split second, his eyes glimmering with regret. He'd pulled a water bottle from his bag and unscrewed the lid, holding it against Valentyna's pale lips. Her shivers had stopped for a second before she jolted away from the bottle and back into his chest.

"I don't need a lecture from you, Nika. Things happened. I did something wrong. She did something wrong. I don't feel like explaining it all to you right now," He'd outright barked at me, but I couldn't find myself getting irritated by that; it was coming from a place of worry. He clearly already blamed himself for what happened to her, that was on show just by the way he was clutching on to her.

Valentyna had hummed gently, her shaky hand coming up to rest on Alexander's shoulder, a few unintelligibly whispered words directed towards him. I watched as the weariness in his eyes washed away, his entire demeanour relaxing.

Alexander's eyes darted between me and the doorway under the stairs. He bit his lip with his brows furrowed. With fingers gripping tightly onto Valentyna's thighs, he moved towards the frayed door nervously.

"You can stand there gaping, or you can follow us, Nika. You look like you could use some help yourself," He analyses.

"You're not going to ask?" I murmur in response, both hoping he does and doesn't in equal measure. I wanted to pour out every detail, but just as badly, wanted to bottle it up and pretend none of it was happening. They'd first met me at my peak; would sharing my low really be a good idea?

"It's none of my concern. I'm just paying back the favour," Alexander muttered. His eyes had been drawn to a picture hanging right by the door, an image that seemed to include a younger version of the twins. He'd hesitantly pulled the frame from the wall and placed it in Valentyna's trembling hands, who, upon receiving it, had clenched it tightly to her chest. If I paid enough attention, it seemed to have been a picture of the two with their parents; and I had to assume either one, or both had passed away.

With no time to argue with the brother, I gathered my body from the floor by pressing most of my weight against the stained armchair beside me, "Here was me thinking you were helping because of my charming personality," I muttered through a broken laugh.

His brow had raised again, "If I made a list of twenty words to describe you, Nika, charming wouldn't be anywhere near it," He gestured towards the handle. I shut my eyes tightly, groaning through the pain as a rush of cold travelled up my body. I see Alexander looking down at me with genuine concern, but he says nothing. I look over Valentyna for a moment, not able to hide my concern but having little in the way of expressing it. Neither of the twins acknowledges it, however.

I passed off a smile as I turned the handle for him. As I do so the ground below me gives way and I find myself tumbling down the staircase that formed below my feet, my weak frame hitting each wooden step with a hearty thump before I reach the concrete of the corridor floor. It was then that I remembered why that doorway had seemed odd to me - I'd entered one similar at some point in the past. Now that I thought about it, that same door was from an original witch line too.

Alexander couldn't help but release a gentle chuckle as he watched it happen. I let myself smile slightly, at least I'd allowed him to feel a little bit of happiness at a time where not only was his sister in peril, but his entire life was crumbling down around him; not only the actual city - but finding out he was from a line of witches was probably enough to warp his view of life.

Not only that, but the scars and bruises on his skin indicated he'd run into a lot more trouble than he's letting on, for a lot longer than he was letting on. This clearly wasn't the first time he'd been back since I'd last seen him.

I barely manage to take note of what happened before he edges past me and lunges into the darkness just beyond my view. I dig my nails into the wall in front of me and pull myself up with all my strength.

As I get to my feet, I make a mental note to throttle the next witch I saw.