Clara’s worries that the man would take the word of his hired hands over hers subsided. He seemed to see the situation for what it was to him despite their testimonies. In the end it came down to his orders and how they were disregarded in the heat of the moment. Though she wondered why he would have cared at all whether there were physical marks left on her, her curiosity did not last for long. An eerie whistle rang out and the ominous, but lovely, sound altered the atmosphere around her. The guards stood up straighter and their expressions turned grave. As she looked around, she could see their hands tightening on their firearms in anticipation of what was to come. A bright light brought her attention back in front of her, and she watched while the fabric of reality tore before her eyes to give birth to a tiny being. Its small, feminine form unfurled from its balled up position and fluttered its insectoid wings. It was a being that was completely foreign to their world, and while Clara was skilled in her own magical capabilities she knew that summoning entities to their realm was not an easy feat.<br/><br/>And yet, her abductor did it so effortlessly.<br/><br/>After a brief exchange, where they traded words that were completely alien to her, the pixie-like creature flitted off in the direction of the guards. Fascinated with wide eyes, she watched while it made its way over until she felt the warmth of the jacket leave her suddenly. She gasped and her arms instinctively moved to cover herself, not that she could conceal much. A forearm wrapped around her chest while she placed a hand over her womanhood. But, the eyes around her were not on her enticing, womanly curves. They were, instead, on the winged little being as it climbed into the red haired guard’s ear. The man guided her forward toward the house, but she looked over her shoulder to see what would come of them. The guard, frozen in place, began to bleed from his ears, mouth, and nose profusely while he convulsed. His eyes rolled into the back of his head before crimson tears streamed down his cheeks. One by one his eyeballs began to bulge out of his head, pushing further and further out of its sockets until they dangled, only attached by the stringy muscles that remained. Brain matter and fluids poured out of his skull, and from the bloody abyss the ravenous little being emerged to move onto its next victim.<br/><br/>She didn’t need to watch. Clara turned away, her features blank from the shock and horror that gripped her. It was amazing that she could even move her feet at all. Perhaps some part of her, some instinct to survive, took over to remove herself from the gruesome scene.<br/><br/>Inside she was lead to a room on the second floor, and in her dazed state she wasn’t quite certain how she had managed to climb the steps. Her feet felt heavy and she was so scared that she thought she should have been paralyzed from the fear. Clara stood in the center of a minimalist room. There was a bed with no blankets or sheets and a floor lamp. A window was across from the bed, with no drapes or blinds. There was a bathroom to the right of it, likely with the bare essentials as well. The door shut behind her and for a moment she simply stood there before she finally dropped her hands in the privacy of her prison. It was much nicer than the accommodations that she was allowed before. The last time she was taken she was held in an unfinished basement with a dirt floor and no light. It was dark and quiet all the time. Somehow she preferred that nightmare to this one.<br/><br/>She moved over to the bed and crawled up to the top where she rested her back against the headboard. Pulling her knees to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her head against them. It was difficult to fight against the sting of tears that gathered in her eyes over the dread that she was going to die soon. With how ruthless her captor was, it was likely to be a terrible, painful death. It would likely be humiliating and degrading, an end that would embarrass her and her family. Clara let out a breath and made an attempt to calm herself, just when the door opened abruptly. She expected to see the dark haired man who had caused her so much grief in the past few hours, but instead there was another. He carried a briefcase with him, though his attire was slightly more casual. He had a thick cardigan on and a pair of slacks, glasses on the bridge of his nose. He was older, judging by the silver hairs among his dark ones.<br/><br/>“You must be Clara. I’m Alistar,” he said, his tone even despite how it must have made him uneasy to be in her presence. He seemed to be very much used to dealing with grave wounds, but her nudity made it so that he couldn’t hold her eye contact for very long. “Will you let me see your cheek?”<br/><br/>“It’s fine.” Clara told him, balling herself up tighter.<br/><br/>“It’s, unfortunately, not negotiable. My employer wants that bruise gone immediately.” He told her, setting the briefcase down and taking a seat on the bed.<br/><br/>Clara sighed and moved over to him, moving her hair out of the way to let him better see the nasty bruise still forming on her cheekbone.