Panic Driven

"You have to get up!" A groan escaped him as he writhed. It took a moment for him to process what Shadow was shouting. "We need to fight back! Upandat'em!"He scrambled to his feet, narrowly avoiding the blast."Fuckin' Hell!" If the creature told him "I told you so" again, he would lose his mind. Whipping around, his eyes squeezed shut, and he threw his hands up defensively. Runes visibly rotated around his hands in a clockwise direction along the edges of the invisible shield. The magik was the only thing standing between him and death.

"Try again!" The thud of his padded paw against the charred oak made him flinch. It was a sound of failure, and he hated any shortcomings in his learning.

"Why? I... I'm sure if we talk it out, ... she'll listen." A strangled half-growl escaped the daemon. What he suspected was meant to be a sigh.

"She will stop at nothing to kill you. It's ingrained in their entire species. What part of this is not clear, Ryan?" He knew they had soulless eyes, jagged teeth—two sets—and disguised themselves as humans. The most unsettling fact was they saw him as food, making his stomach drop. "I wish I could explain more, but their name is unpronounceable by your kind... Try again, and this time, focus."

"'ight, I'll try." After taking a moment to listen, he placed his hands in front of him. The novice took a deep breath, then moved one hand clockwise. A surge of adrenaline rushed through him as he extended one hand inches from his face, heightening the thrill of the moment. The tension was palpable, and he could feel the world around him fade into the background. If he failed, it would be his fault, and humans would die.

He accelerated the movement of his right hand, his brow furrowing with determination. Time seemed to hold its breath for him. Instead of ducking into the next room, embarrassed and anxious, he stayed. When the moment of choice arrived, he thrust his circling hand away from him. The surge of energy from the incantation knocked him to the ground, forcing the air out of his lungs. "Good!" A smile spread across the new warlock's face, mostly out of relief. "Again!"

His mud irises opened, one at a time. "Oh, shit. I'm still alive." Instantly, he felt grateful for the meticulous teachings of the fire wolf. Panic set in; hearing her scream with her mouth unnaturally wide, the sharp teeth gleaming. "Nope..." Instead, he turned and sprinted toward the treeline.

"What are you doing?! I said fight, not flee!" His companion chased after him. She had every right to be angry. This had to be a misunderstanding. Deep down, he knew he had to fight.

"DESTROYER! MEET YOUR FATE!"

His heart raced as his feet pounded the ground beneath him. Ryan Wickerd was a coward who killed Agnes, the leader of the Wrrithrches.