Konnor Lowell
Konnor Lowell set his book down on the table next to you and slid into the chair.
“What the hell are you doing here?!”
His deep, black eyes probed deep, the corners of his mouth sketching an evil grim. Your heart missed a beat and in that pause, cold, sharp panic filled your veins. You look around desperately for any reaction from the rest of the class, but they seem too busy taking notes.
Robert turned to the chalkboard and said, "Today we will start with the fall of the Roman Empire.”
You sat perfectly still. You wrinkled your nose, trying to figure out what he smelled like. Not cigarettes. Something stronger, vulgar.
Sulphur.
"What are you doing here?" You demanded.
"I’m just a fellow teenager craving for a proper education,” he winked when he said it.
"You have gray hair already," you pointed out.
"And you have wings," he retorted. “It’s rude to point those things out.”
"I'm assuming this has something to do with you."
He leaned back in his seat, folding his arms behind his head. "You could say that, I just had to combine ancient arcane arts with modern processing power of supercomputers to create a worldwide ritual grid that allowed me to find people susceptible to a Babylonian ritual of rebirth."
Written by ashley-natter on 24 July 2019
