Author’s Note: Hmm…so. How’re you all doing?

I have no witty excuses. I can only remind you that if you kill me, Septima will never finish. SO HAH!!! –flees-

Oh P.S: Check out the Ficathon community to read all the other challenges! The author who got mine is Graffitibox, and it's awesome. Check it. For serious.

Septima

Oh shit oh shit oh shit…

I stepped quickly away, redoubling my efforts to find my sisters. I could only hope that he hadn’t recognized me. Swearing had become my mantra. I could not believe what I had just seen. The image was burned into my poor, confused retinas.

What the hell was he doing here? Evil people weren’t supposed to have day jobs. They weren’t supposed to have lives. They were supposed to stay in their dark evil lairs and laugh evily and plot and scheme to further the cause of evil, and do…evil things. Trim their evil bonsai trees. Whatever.

You were not supposed to run into your arch enemy as he is stocking shelves at the local hokey-mart. It’s just not supposed to happen. It’s far too crushingly awkward for both parties involved. I mean, evil guys like Arrian were supposed to have some dignity. But I’d remember him in that dopy apron forever. I kind of felt bad.

What the hell were you supposed to do in a situation like this? Smile? Wave? Say hello? Reminisce about that one time he tried to kill me in a mall parking lot?

Hey, remember that time you tried to decapitate me, but then your phone rang? And then you kidnapped me, but I got away by jumping into an icy river and almost dying? Good times, man. Good times. We should hang out more often.

I needed guidance.

I found Prima at the check-out counter, thank god.

“Time to go now!” I sang out softly, grabbing Prima’s arm and tugging. “Where the heck is Quinta!”

“What the hell?” She said, shaking her arm free. “She’s out smoking one of her three-foot-long French cigarettes. Where’s the fire? Besides, I have to use the restroom. The kitty has a nosebleed, so to speak.”

“Oh my god Prima, we do not have time for your period!” This was said in what is known as an Irish Whisper, which means that everyone within ten feet had little doubt as to what was said, and the guy at the checkout was most definitely staring. “How old are you anyway? Haven’t you hit menopause yet?”

By the way she was glaring, I could tell that I would never, ever be forgiven. In fact, I would probably be beaten.

“Look, Sorry.” I amended. “I empathize with the discomfort. But we really, really, really, really have to go. Now. As in, five minutes ago.”

“Are you high? I swear, you’re high.”

“He’s here.”

We stared at each other for a moment, before I saw her eyes widen in recognition.

“Oh. Yes.” She said. “We should go.”

-

We first noticed that something was wrong when we stepped outside, and the wind was comparable to a hurricane force five. There was so much snow in the air, it was blinding.

Quinta.

Prima screamed something and dropped the bags, charging into the storm. I, like the good little doobie I was, grabbed the bags and followed.

It was painfully clear what was up once we entered the eye of the mini-storm. Arrian was there, and had Quinta by the neck, and I could recognize the glint of his dagger from a mile away.

I couldn’t help it, I froze.

But Prima didn’t.

Charging forward in her designer boots, she landed a pretty solid punch on his jaw, knocking him away from Quinta, who crumpled to the ground.

“Stay away from my family, you freak!” She cried, glaring daggers.

The wind had died down as soon as Quinta had been released, but there was still a chilly breeze as the snow fell heavily. Arrian had stumbled back but hadn’t fallen, and he leaned on a nearby car as he wiped a trickle of blood off the corner of his lips.

I cringed as he spat more blood out of his mouth, when it hit the parking lot, it hissed like hot oil and instantly ate all the way down to the asphalt. That looked nasty. I wasn’t sure if it was his blood or his saliva that could do that. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. He must have bitten his tongue or something.

“What’s the rush, lady?” He said flatly. “Wait your turn.”

Commence the obligatory trash-talking.

“Look.” Prima said, fiercely, placing herself between Quinta and her attacker. Quinta still wasn’t moving. “You’re messing with the wrong girl. I’m crampy and bloated and pissed the fuck off, so why don’t you just get the hell away before I trash you.”

She sounded so fierce that I wanted to run. Or at least get the poor girl some acetaminophen or a heating pad or something.

“Miss Septima…” It was Mask, whispering. I’d forgotten that I’d had him on. “You should run.”

“I…” I said, softly. But I couldn’t say anything else. It was like that time Arrian’s uncle had paralyzed me, but I knew that he wasn’t here now. I couldn’t feel him in my shadow.

Arrian’s uncle…

“Well,” Arrian was saying, hefting the knife, bringing it to the ready. “Thanks for sharing.”

I could tell by the way he was purring more than speaking that something was up.

Oh hell.

But by the time I had opened my mouth, it was too late. I saw his shadow flex strangely, like jello, as he took a step forward and it connected with my sister’s. By the look on her face and the awkward position she was standing in, I guessed she’d become acquainted with his uncle.

And so I had come to a crossroads.

Here was the deal. Up until now, if my life was a story, it was never really about me, you know? That’s always the way I’d thought about it. I never did anything particularly interesting or noteworthy, so it was more the pointless tale of my escapades as the target of, or occasionally the comic relief for, my sisters’ antics.

I could not do anything about this, I could see Prima getting revved up to whip out her kick-ass earth powers, but I knew that she hated to use them and that it was a power that was nearly impossible to cover for. It would take even my family a couple of hours to put everything nicely back where we found it after a hefty earthquake, and it would take longer to fix what would inevitably get trashed. And that was time we didn’t have.

Or, I could do something about this. After all, it was debatably my fault in the first place.

With a new resolve, I plunged my hand into the nearest shopping bag and launched the first thing that came to hand straight at Arrian’s face.

It happened to be the half-pint of chocolate milk.

Oh well, sacrifices had to be made.

It didn’t hit him, but that was ok. I’d just wanted to distract him. He had been meandering over towards Prima, at least in her general direction, and he must have had super-instincts too because he leaned back just enough so that it whizzed past his nose.

“Hey!” I said sharply. Now that I had his attention, I didn’t know what to do with it. So I repeated myself. “Hey!”

“What?” He snapped, glaring at me. At least he had stopped moving.

“Um…” I hated it when people really snapped at me. It made me all quivery inside. “Um, could you…um…not?”

Arrian stared at me like I had three heads.

“Kill my sisters, I mean.” I clarified. Perhaps that was what was confusing him. “Can’t we make, like, a deal? They do that all the time in the movies.”

“Yeah, and we all know how those always work out.” He said. I wasn’t sure I liked his sarcastic tone. “What if I said no?”

“I would…cry.” I said. “Look, just don’t, ok? I’ll go with you. Whatever you want.”

He stared at me, considering.

“Please?” I added, for good measure.

“Your necklace.” He said flatly. “Give it to me.”

I heard Mask hastily bite off a swear as he booked out of the stone, and the pendant felt empty again. But the game was up. I drew the string slowly up over my head and stepped forward until I was standing straight in front of him. My hand shook a little as I handed it over.

He took it from me and stared at it for a moment, before grabbing it from either end and snapping it in half.

I managed to suppress my gasp, but I had to work hard to keep from crying. I could only hope that Mask had made it back to my dad’s office and wasn’t trapped out in limbo somewhere. Because that would suck. And be sad.

And then he turned to me with this glint in his eye that I definitely did not like, but I couldn’t place why.

And then he sucker punched me in the stomach, and I had it all figured out before I felt something in my head, squeezing and squeezing and squeezing my mind until all I saw was black.

FreedomStar: Hope you got enough sleep to properly enjoy this next chapter! Though it might require reading on only a few hours sleep to attain complete understading of Septima...O.O

google-eyes: Thanks for saying, and I know, I suck at writing summaries. I just can't do it.

volleychick89: I'm not sure that jumping into an icy river under any circumstances is doing the logical thing, but I see where you're coming from! I assure you that Septima has no powers. I'm not going to whip them out at the last minute, they just aren't there. haha. Thanks for the encouragement!

XxAmberRomancexX: Selling soap...that's a good one! I might just have a villian selling soap in the near future...thanks for the review! And don't worry...this story's too stupid to die.

Inky-Angel: Yeah Arrian's kind of a jerk. That's just the way he is. He can't even try and pull that 'the death of my family made me this way' kind of gig, because he was like that before. Just not murderous.

Harper Bell: Congrats on that big thing that's going down! (I'm not sure if you want me blabbing about it out in public, better safe than sorry!) I meant to comment on LJ, but the pictures you've posted...everything is gorgeous! I'm so glad for you:)

IGNIS Elementi: Thanks, I'll do my best!

chic rebel: Thank you very much!

Thanks for the reviews!!!