"Let go of my husband." her voice cracks through the room like a whip.
"Your husband," a menacing laugh rumbles out from the man behind me, "My what valuable information you give so freely now. I think I might just hold onto this little insurance policy until we can get this sorted in my favor."
I don't know how the man behind me is remaining so calm power and rage is flowing off this woman before us in ways I didn't even think were possible yet here, he is defying her. The kid is the one who burst in with shrieks of torment on his tail, and even as she pays him no mind, he is cringing from the power rolling off of her.
"Kid Report Why are you busting in here?" the man behind me asks completely ignoring the obvious threat of my wife.
"Serge. Everyone is on FIRE!" the kid shouts confusing me, wasn't the other dude's name Serge?
"What do you mean 'everyone is on fire'? Kid, that makes no sense. Explain what happened?"
I nervously glance at my wife to see what she thinks of being ignored for this conversation and oddly enough she seems calmer and almost... happy?
"Serge. These snakes came up from the basement and wrapped around everyone else and now everyone is on fire and screaming from pain... I tried to put them out with the fire extinguisher, but it didn't do anything. The fire wasn't even affected!"
"Kid," my wife's voice floats through the room soft and smooth, "The real question is 'Why aren't you on fire?' If I recall correctly, you were down here cutting on me just like everyone else..." something about her tone warns of a trap but I don't understand how fire and cutting are connected. I think the man behind me understands however because as she trails off, I feel him stiffen
"Kid?! Didn't I order you to cut that demon witch?" his voice carries a hint of venom like a snake waiting to strike. The kid shrinks obviously also catching the edge to his boss's voice.
"I did," the kid tries but his voice breaks killing any credibility, "you watched me cut her along with all the others... I don't understand everyone is burning upstairs why is she directing the conversation to me?"
"How old are you?" My wife's voice again and again I can't keep track of where this conversation is.
"twenty-one," the kid answers seemingly on autopilot.
"He isn't a full member?!" her voice sounds dismayed, and I still don't understand, "how old are you?" this time her question is directed at the man holding me
"Nineteen, Two-hundred and five." is his response but I must have misheard no one can live that long
"Oh, you are also still so young. How many vials does that make?"
"Two-thousand five-hundred vials." his voice carries a note of pride
"Oh. That doesn't explain the aging and wrinkles," she murmurs and although she seems to be speaking to herself, I am almost certain she intended for him to hear her. "Oh well back to the point at hand," her voice was light but drops as power begins swirling around her again, "you will release my husband now."
"I will do no such thing," he growls in response, "you made a mistake and let me know how much this Profane means to you do you really think I would give up my advantage?"
"This is why you 'Knights' make no sense you say you are on the side of justice and what is right, but you have no value of human life," She sneers at him, "What none of you have ever figured out is we 'demon witches' as you have dubbed us would trade our lives for any innocent you happened to grab off the streets. You 'Knights' have made a critical miscalculation every time you grab those you have dubbed 'Profanes'."
"What miscalculation do you think we've made Witch?" he sneers back at her
"We would die for any innocent but for those who are close enough to us for you to label them as 'profanes'..." she chuckles and it is low and dark, "for them we would burn down the world. Last chance; release him."
"Pft," he snorts, "even if that were true you can't do anything to me from over there without me slicing his throat first."
She tilts her head as though she is considering what he has said before she utters a single word "Cremar[1]"
Her voice is practically tangible as it slithers through the room. I wonder what she just said and what she expects the reaction to be...
"ARG!" He shouts right in my ear, the knife clattering to the ground, and he jumps away from me.
Surprised I turn to look at him and see he is blowing on his palm which was previously holding the knife but is now covered in burns.
"You witch!" He spits at her while backing further away from me.
"It is right there in the name you call us," is her eerily calm response as she wanders over to a medical looking cart I hadn't noticed before that is parked near the door, "you know it really is a shame for you..." She trails off and I get the sensation she is baiting him...
"What is a shame?" he snaps a trace of curiosity beginning to lace his anger
"You had those men process so much of my blood and it is all going to go to others, what a waste." she sighs as if she is genuinely sorry, "it really is too bad your superiors are such hogs..." her voice quiets but is still loud enough for us all to hear, "Nineteen huh and even with the extras still aging like that, man..." she trails off again
"What do you mean?!" His anger is in full swing again, "I am aging just fine! No one would guess I am anything more than twenty-nine!"
"True," She looks at him with a gently smile, "A whole ten years older in two-hundred years. Yet your supervisors still look no more than thirty-five and it's been over two thousand for some. Can you imagine how you will look then?"
[1] Cremar: Catlan for Burn (According to internet translation)