It was undeniable.

She was drawn to him like a magnet. That was the only way she could explain the stream of emotions passing through her body, the physical urges riling within. Immediately, her breaths grew deeper, her chest heaved with titillation, and her stomach fluttered with a swarm of butterflies. She found herself weak in the knees, light-headed from unknown anticipation.

Eira had heard of love at first sight.

The man stood in the middle of the court. His olive skin glistened underneath the moonlit sky, and his eyes twinkled with mischievous laughter as he stared at her. It took a few seconds but when her tongue felt dry, she realized her mouth had been hanging open. Quickly, she brought her lips back together, tearing her eyes away from his gaze, as heat rushed to her cheeks.

She heard his approaching footsteps.

Eira slowly turned her head back to face him. He stood about five inches taller, his shadow towering over her. She felt her breath hitch the moment he invaded her personal space.

"Hello," he said. The baritone of his voice reverberated through her bones. She nearly melted as the sound hit her ears. His undertone was deep, powerful–bewitching.

"Hi." Her response came out softer than a whisper. He flashed his teeth, revealing a crooked smile.

There was a cockiness about him. Normally, it would have put her off, but on him, it was beguiling. She found herself being drawn to him, and she couldn't explain it.

He wasn't the most attractive man she had ever seen. His jet-black hair was fringed, short, slicked at the front, revealing a widow's peak. His face was long, with small, piercing eyes and untamed brows. Then why was it that just his gaze aroused her more than another's physical touch ever could?

There was a chemistry between them she couldn't define. A spark she couldn't understand. Though, Eira was certain about one thing. He was nothing like the man she'd dreamt about. Nothing about him felt safe.

But she couldn't look away.

This wasn't love at first sight. No. This was attraction in its rawest form.

His steely eyes bore into hers as he asked, "Would you like to try again?"

Unable to form coherent words, she tentatively nodded. Instantly, he reached behind his back and pulled out another basketball.

Eira stood stumped.

He grinned at her, as though reading her thoughts. "Magic."

That made her smile. "Right."

Before long, his hand was on her hip. He gently nudged her around, guiding her back toward the basket. He held the ball to her chest and leaned in. She felt his warm breath on her neck. "Ready?"

He didn't wait for her to answer. Instead, he took his hand and cupped it over hers. She almost jumped upon contact. The electricity from his touch moved through her veins, shaking her from the core. Her body shuddered in response, as goosebumps traveled up her arms and down her back.

She didn't need to see his face to know he was smirking. She could feel it.

Eira held her breath, tightly pressing her lips together as he placed her hand on the ball and took aim.

"Close your eyes," he said. "And take a breath."

Eira bit her lip, closing her eyes.

"Breathe," he repeated.

She inhaled the air surrounding her. It was tainted by his musky scent of leather, laced with hints of sandalwood. A sudden rush passed through her body, and she found it difficult to breathe in his close proximity.

"Okay, now," he said, moving her arms in position. "Think about what you want."

Eira's brows furrowed. "What I want?"

He hummed into her ear. "Think about what you want to do with the ball."

"What I want to do with the ball?" She heard him chuckle. Eira felt her cheeks burning up. "What?" she asked, defensively. She opened her eyes and attempted to turn around. But he held her in place.

"Close your eyes," he instructed. There was an edge to his voice. "Think about making that basket."

Eira exhaled, complying. "Okay."

"Good," he said. "Now visualize what you want. No hesitation, no doubts."

She always had a vivid imagination. It wasn't too difficult for her to picture herself taking the shot. The problem was believing it would land. Every time she saw herself throwing the ball towards the backboard, a black shadow of insecurity would appear out of nowhere and knock the ball off course.

Eira's grip around the ball tightened.

"No hesitation," he whispered. "No doubts."

No hesitation, Eira mentally repeated, no doubts.

She found herself back on the court, the ball in her hands, her eyes on the basket. In one swift motion, she pushed the ball away from her grasp, and towards the hoop. In that moment, she shoved her insecurities aside and determination took over.

As her eyes trailed the ball, she firmly believed she would make that basket.

Swoosh. The ball making contact with the net was perhaps the sweetest sound she'd heard in a long time. Eira opened her eyes right as it passed through the hoop, and plummeted onto the concrete. It lingered temporarily, bouncing up and down a few times before settling on the ground.

She jumped in excitement. "Did you see that?!"

The stranger muffled a laugh. "I did."

Eira quickly composed herself, surprised by her sudden outburst. It was then she realized just how close she was standing to the stranger. She might as well have been in his arms, locked in an embrace.

"Right," she mumbled, taking a few steps back. "Uh, thank you."

He grinned in response, clearly enjoying her discomfort. "You know, people often strip before they go for a midnight swim. It prevents," his eyes trailed the length of her body, "wetness."

Eira felt her cheeks flush. "I, uh, didn't–"

"Didn't think about it?" he teased, squinting his eyes. "Usually, it's the first thing people consider."

She pouted. "I, um, I drowned...to death. And I woke up, here," she motioned to her surroundings, "like this," and then gestured to herself, "so, I didn't really have much say in the matter."

He looked at her, his eyes still narrow and questioning. "So, why didn't you just change?"

"Just change?" she asked. "I didn't have any spare clothes?"

He gave her a dubious look, much like the one Kai had given her before disappearing.

"What?" she asked, the feeling of annoyance garbing around her.

"We're in limbo," he vaguely explained. Eira didn't respond. She had no idea what he meant by that. "The best thing about this place," he continued, speaking very slowly, "is that you have complete control over yourself."

"O-kay," Eira answered.

He sighed. "What did you just do?"

"I threw the ball into–"

"Into the hoop, yes," he calmly interrupted her. "But how did you do it?"

"You told me to believe in myself?"

"You believed," he corrected her. "You control yourself. If you feel uncomfortable with your damp clothes, then you can change it."

"Change how?" she asked. She really was trying to keep up but his words kept flying over her head. Every time he spoke, she'd lose a part of herself in his voice. She probably sounded like an idiot. "Just close my eyes and think up new clothes?"

He shrugged. "Basically."

At the risk of looking like a complete fool in front of him, Eira turned away from the stranger and closed her eyes. She heard a swift snicker from behind.

Ignoring the creeping heat threatening to cloud her face, she focused on changing her attire. She pictured wearing a tight, long-sleeved shirt under high-waisted skinny jeans, and a long, black sweater over top to keep her warm. She traded in her old, battered, pair of ankle combat boots for new ones.

In that moment, the blissful comfort of heat draped itself around her body. Her fingers brushed up against the wool sweater and dug into the material. Eira's eyes snapped out and she looked down to her body, only to find herself dressed in the exact clothes she had been imagining.

She closed her eyes a second time, trying to diminish the last trace of her suicide. She concentrated, visualizing her damp, frayed, hair back to life. When head felt lighter, her eyes blinked open and fell on voluminous locks waving down, past her shoulders.

Eira smiled, turning to face the stranger. "This... is incredible!"

The stranger winked in response, and on cue, she blushed. "Black suits you."

Her cheeks were aflame as she mumbled, "Thanks."

"So," he started, as he shoved his fist into his jacket. She mimicked him, realizing the night had grown colder. "What were you doing out here alone?"

Alone? Eira wondered. And then she remembered the wisp.

"No, I'm not alone," she began, turning her head away from the stranger. Her eyes searched for the golden imp, but it was nowhere in sight. She frowned, wondering where it had gone. " I, uh, I had followed a wisp here...but," she turned back to look at the man, "I guess it left."

"You followed a wisp?" He looked stunned.

"Yes," she sheepishly admitted. "It kind of broke me out of my room."

And then his eyes grew bigger. "You're an animus?"

Animus? "What?"

He shook his head. "You've still got trials, right?"

Eira nodded. "Yeah. Why?"

"You shouldn't be out here," he spoke, his voice low. "It's not safe."

"I'm already dead," she countered. "I'm past being safe."

He rolled his eyes. "You have no idea."

"What?" she lightly shot back. "Eternal damnation? I know about that. But that's after my trials, and only if I fail. My guide said the trials don't begin until after the orientation anyway."

He looked surprised, and he didn't hesitate to show it. "Are you kidding me? You haven't completed the orientation?" And then he mumbled something Eira couldn't make out.

"What?"

"Who's your guide?" he demanded.

Before Eira could answer, a low rumbling growl tore through the silent night.

Immediately, the light bulbs flickered out, drawing attention to the pale moon quickly being covered by thin, scudding clouds. Soon darkness loomed over them. The stranger's eyes shifted and his body immediately turned rigid. She slowly followed his gaze, fear building its nest in the pit of her stomach. She froze, as her eyes met with those of a monster–an animal unlike anything she'd ever seen before.

It was massive in size, twice as big as a full-grown mastiff. Its big, lidless, eyes weeping blood; its charcoal fur hardly discernible under the shadowy veil. If it weren't for its bright, red, pupils cutting into her soul, or the constant sloshing sound from the toxic globs of phlegm slowly trickling onto the ground, it would have easily blended into the tenebrous night.

The monster advanced on them.

The man tightly clasped his hand over hers. Despite knowing about the danger they were in, Eira's body reacted like a starstruck teenager. The feeling of giddiness overwhelmed her fear, and she stood still, as though in shock–not because the rancid beast was quickly closing in, but because he was holding onto her hand.

There was something seriously wrong with her, she realized.

With its every step forward, its large, meaty, paws broke ground, creating potholes on the otherwise smooth compound. The newly formed dents were soon overflowing with neon, green slobber, oozing from the monster's mouth. Eira noticed how the gooey liquid fell with a prominent splat, and within seconds began scalding through the solid pavement, scorching anything in its path; setting its new home ablaze.

It growled again, baring its pointed yellow canines, each as sharp as a fine diamond sword. Its eyes glowered with gut-wrenching thirst.

"Wh-what is that?" she asked.

"Time to go," he said, pulling on her hand. They began taking slow steps backwards.

"It's blocking the exit." Her eyes remained glued to the four-legged abomination making its way towards them. Behind it, two more appeared. They were slightly smaller than the one standing strong in the middle, but menacing all the same.

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

Eira bit her lip. She wanted to say yes, but deep down she knew it would be nothing more than a lie. Regardless of how she felt around him, there was still the matter of not knowing anything about him. And yet, she found herself not wanting to offend him. 

"Maybe?"

Through her peripheral vision, she saw him pulling something out of his jacket. Once she took in its jagged edge, she realized it was a knife. A sane reaction would've been to quickly move away from the man holding a weapon. But she wasn't scared. She was only afraid of the beasts, inching closer, with hunger-driven eyes.

The stranger briefly glanced at her before plunging the dagger into nothingness. Almost as if it had torn through an invisible barrier, he dragged the blade down. It sliced through the air like butter, opening up, unraveling into what could only be described as a rift.

As though breaking open its cocoon, the breach unfolded to their right, revealing a graphite canvas painted in flashing streaks of fiery orange. Each bolt crackled with vigour, thundering tenacity, appearing suddenly in an effort to rip through the ebony curtain–seemingly trying to break free from the cage of desolate.

Eira's eyes widened as she took in what laid before her.

"Do you trust me?" he breathed into her ear.

She didn't look at him as her body rippled in ecstasy. "N-no."

"Are you afraid?"

"Of you?"

"Yes."

"No," she answered.

"Good enough."

In one swooping motion, he released his hold on her hand and grabbed onto her waist. Eira turned to look back at the monstrous hounds, darting towards them, ready to pounce. She firmly wrapped an arm around his neck, and squeezed her eyes shut. Without another word, his grip on her tightened, and they jumped, diving into the terrifying black hole. 

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Hiya beautiful readers! Yess, I managed to upload sooner than expected. Yay! ;D

I hope you enjoyed reading Chapter 5. If you did, please don't forget to Vote & Comment. Votes show me that you're enjoying the story - it motivates me to update sooner. And I absolutely love reading comments. Even if it's criticism, haha.

What did you think about the strange attraction Eira felt for the stranger? Where'd the wisp go? Would anyone be brave enough to take on the beast? And where does that rift lead?

Who do you want to see more of, what do you want to see next? Let's get a conversation going! :) xx And stay tuned for Chapter 6, coming out next week!