The House of Wolves - Chapter 2- Steven

All the children gazed over towards their left, at the face of culprit with a fearful and crestfallen expression. "No, this cannot be correct, I have never written such a letter...I am her brother. Why would I do this to her" a boy of twenty - two stood up. His disheveled hair swept across his forehead, hiding his chocolate brown orbs in which fear arose. The agent stayed silent with a hysterical stillness that made him appear as a statue. He touched his ears as he spoke in a foreign language that none of them knew. "Oui, ja'i trouvé le garçon," he said in a barely audible sound. "Edward, mind bringing that friend of yours here?" the agent said as he took out a small rectangular box from his coat.

"Edward, you cannot do this....please," Steven said. In his own helplessness, Edward could only face down with a guilty conscience. "I am sorry Stevie..."

The latter brought Steven infront of the agent as he made a quick analysis of the man. He was a thin person without any muscle or fat. His dark brown curly strands of hair hid his eyes as his complexion remained him of daisy flower. He wore dark purple clothes with black accents. "Parfait," the agent nodded with an approving glance. "Do you mind holding this pen for me?" the agent said as his beloved pen was slipped into the hands of Steven. The agent walked towards the detective as they muttered their future plans to each other. Steven filled with curiosity regarding the unique object in his hands, with shaky hands, test the pen. The ink was of a blue colour but of a hue that triggered something in him. As his eyes started to flutter with irritation, he stumbled until Edward caught him in a complete unconscious state.

"Steven!" All his friend cried out. The agent sighed frustratingly. "Quiet down!" he barked, "Did no one ever taught you that snooping through someone else's thing brings only trouble?" he strode towards Steven with a dominating march. The lights lost their interest as the entire room was occupied by inky darkness and a clamourous group of children.

That night Steven slept with nightmare occasionally interrupting his good memories. He woke up presumably the next morning with a feverish sensation. Through his morning hazy eyes, he saw the picture of Jasmine, his beloved sister, in front of him. "Jasmine? Is that you..." he waited for a reply but concluded that it was just his mind playing tricks on him. "It is nice to see you again too Stevie." She said softly in a whisper. Being startled, he stood straight and rubbed his eyes. Holding her hands in his, he asked, "Jas- Jasmine? Is it really you? What happened to you?" he softly caressed the purple patch round her left eye.

Jasmine was a beautiful girl of twenty with piercing stormy grey eyes and brown locks of curled hair. Her complexion was of a warrior, tawny and well-defined Presently, Jasmine's long strands were shorten up to the shoulders as her pretty brown-pink lips were busted and still healing from an attack.

"Jasmine?" Steven said as a rising anger brewed up within him. "Who did this to you? Tell me, I will beat him or her up. Was it that frightening agent?"

"Frightening agent? do you mean Agent Rosa? Well technically yes, but it was just a part of combat training." She said, raising a wet towel and wiping his feverish forehead. "Combat training? Have you been well? Did anyone hurt you, sister?" Steven asked as he looked away from Jasmine taking in his vicinity. The the outside view was hidden. The room was quite small with only a bed and bare white glistening walls. 

"It is a long story..." Jasmine said.