James' heart hammered against his chest. He clenched his teeth so tightly, he feared they might break, as he fought not to overthink what he was doing or whom he was attacking. 

Charlotte sat on the cool, stone step, her breathing ragged, her muscles taut, not trusting him to leave her be. He wondered if it was pointless, if he was only tormenting her. She seemed to be getting nowhere close to counterattacking; he hesitated, running his hands through his hair, doubting his tactics. She was perhaps one of the most insanely stubborn people he had ever met.

Yet, even as he looked at her now, anger coursed through his veins, and he'd be damned if he was going to let her get away with being so bloody obstinate all of the time. 

Elmhirst would never allow her get away with it, and his means of forcing her would be a lot harsher than James' tactics would be. He knew that her biggest problem was that she feared herself - a fact she seemed oblivious to. He shook his head, doubting very much that her alteration was as strong as she seemed to believe. He had seen the flickered and failing projections in the opening game. And yes, he was aware that Holly Childs had screamed bloody murder when Charlotte had attacked her in the captain's game, but he wasn't afraid of anything as mundane as spiders. The thought of such a ridiculous fear irritated him. No he feared nothing; nothing except... Well she won't find that, he grunted inwardly.

James sighed, resigning himself to releasing her from the torment he was causing, when his sight swam for a moment. It was a brief flicker, the world about him shimmering like a mirage before settling back to how it had always been. He shook his head, instantly forgetting it, and hopped down moving towards Charlotte. She looks pretty pathetic, he thought. He would have to work with her to make her seem less weak, that was if  he managed to coax her to work with him at all. The frustration she was causing him hit once more, rushing through him like a tidal wave, unsettling him. He had no idea where it came from, but he found he couldn't just leave her give up, not yet.

"You think you can just bat your eyelashes and people will do exactly what you want," he snarled, more anger in his voice than he thought he was capable of. "If I am going to come here and waste my time, you are going to put in the effort". He gritted his teeth, raised his hand and flicked his wrist with the least amount of effort, before running his fingers through his hair, watching as fear contorted her face. 

The step beneath Charlotte jerked forward forming a slope that led straight down into the black, gaping hole where the floor had been. He watched as Charlotte reached back trying to pull herself onto the step behind her, but that too had begun to slope, forming a large, solid, highly polished slide. She could not find any ledge to grip on to. She really is making it too easy, he thought almost bored. He stood on the only step that didn't form a part of the huge stone slide into the pit below them, the pit tormenting Charlotte.

"James, please don't do this," she cried, as he watched her trying to fight gravity. She clawed at the polished stone, trying fruitlessly to find a grip. She kicked out with her legs trying to avoid the inevitable plunge awaiting her. 

It really was too easy. James frowned, watching her pathetically trying to win a battle against the gravitational pull. A part of him was knotted, trying to reason with what he was doing, but another part was almost urging him on. He glanced away from Charlotte for the briefest moment, trying to clear his head of the conflict he felt powerless over. His heart continued to race, the pounding in his ears only growing more intense. His skin felt as if it was on fire, though the hairs on his arms were standing on end. He clenched and unclenched his fist, trying to dismiss the uneasiness that suddenly gripped him. It seemed to work, as once more he turned his attention back to Charlotte.

"Charlotte, I need you to listen," James sighed, crouching down on the step he was standing on - the only step that wasn't forming the slope; it was just out of her reach. You are taking this too far, a part of him hissed, but he seemed unable to listen to his own reasoning.

"Please James, I am listening. I'm slipping - please," she gasped, as she slid down towards the black pit. "I'll do anything... I will... please don't hurt me," she sobbed. James' stomach knotted. When did I become this, he growled at himself, but still didn't do anything to stop the terror he was putting her through.

"I don't believe you," he said evenly, coldly.

"James," Charlotte screamed, as her feet slid over the edge. She turned around as her lower body dangled over the precipice. He gazed at her indifferently, as she grasped at the polished stone, pressing her fingers hard into it, looking for anything to hold her up. "James, how far are you going to take this?" Charlotte sobbed, trying frantically to drag herself up. "I'll do anything, just please don't let me die," she cried, trying once more to pull herself up. James' heart was now hammering in his chest and his mouth had turned dry and sticky. He couldn't seem to stop himself, though he desperately wanted to. He just crouched there, watching her, watching her fear and torment.

"You'll work with me on this?" he said slowly, tilting his head to one side. It felt as if he was a puppet, being made to dance by some great manipulator.

"Why the hell do you think I came here?" she yelled, her grip giving way a little as she slid towards the edge, before pressing her fingers harder into the stone, trying her best to halt her descent.

"Say it, Charlotte - say it now that you know what I will do if you don't," he ordered, his head still tilted. What the hell is wrong with me? James knew that he seemed perfectly calm, but inside it was as if a fire was raging, sending him into panic, eating him up. 

"You're threatening me?" she screamed, her arms shaking violently with the effort it was taking to hold herself up. "I thought we were... a team".

"And I thought a lot of things too, Charlotte," he sighed. "Just say it". She will never forgive you for this, he thought bitterly. 

"Fine, James! Fine! I'll do it... I promise," she yelled, clasping the edge, as everything but her finger tips disappeared from sight. "Please James, just... help me," she screamed, one hand slipping from the ledge. James stood, happy in her response, brave enough even to smile at his triumph. He knew she wouldn't underestimate him again; she would work with him. Okay, it was worth it, he thought finally.

James sighed loudly, releasing the pent up anxiety, as he slowly began to raise the step. He jumped down casually as the steps began to lock back into place. He could hear her sobbing, her fingers pale from pressing into the hard stone. He knew she was going to be furious with him, but it was better that he forced her, than Elmhirst.

"James, hurry I can't hold on," Charlotte gasped.

And then her fingers disappeared over the edge and her ear-piercing scream filled the room. James felt his stomach drop. There was a loud thud, which seemed to echo around the room and through his chest painfully.

Silence envelopped the room, engulfing him, swallowing her sobbing, her screaming. There was only silence. The colour drained from his face. His vision blurred as the fear took him in its grasp, squeezing the air from his lungs. The thud resounded in his ears, replaying again and again. It wasn't possible, he thought. It couldn't be possible. 

"No, no, no," he gasped. "Charlotte," he yelled, the stones slamming back into place beneath him as he jumped down to the edge, peering into the cavernous darkness below. "Charlotte," he yelled, his voice panicked. He shook his head trying to clear his mind, the panic overwhelming him. He couldn't hear her. The silence was deafening. "Charlotte, please answer me," he whispered hollowly. He could hardly control the tremble in his fingers, as he tried to blink away the black spots that began to appear in front of his eyes. It felt as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest. He wanted to rewind. He wanted to take it back. He wanted her back!

Hesitantly, the boards began to move back into place, the floor lifting, each floorboard snapping back before him.  With each board returning to its original position, they began to reappear with greater speed, as James felt his helplessness morph into an all consuming anger. Soon they moved in a blur, rapidly reforming the wooden floor and there, just where she had fallen, lay Charlotte.

"Charlotte," he gasped, jumping from the steps and running over to her limp body. He could feel the colour drain from his face, leeching away with the anger that had so suddenly filled him. All there was now, was a harrowing emptiness, eating him, destroying him. "What have I done?" He dropped to his knees beside her, his hands hovering over the shock of brown hair that was lying across her face. A pool of dark red blood had begun to gather around her head, staining his fingers. He rubbed his hands desperately into his clothes, trying to remove the stain of his crime, trying to remove her death. He swallowed hard, wondering how long it would be until they took his life for what he had done. It couldn't be soon enough, he thought miserably. Somehow, though, he found the courage to lower his hands and push Charlotte's hair away, when something strange started to happen. 

At his touch Charlotte seemed to disintegrate, her form falling away like sand in the wind. He grasped at the tiny grains until she had all but vanished in front of him. He was kneeling in the middle of the empty floor all alone. His hands were shaking uncontrollable, as he tried to reason with what he had just seen. The blood that had stained his fingers had vanished, but their memory lingered, stinging his mind viciously. 

Hesitantly he turned around, his hands trembling, his mouth dry. Charlotte was sitting above him on the fourth step. Her face was grey and her breathing ragged. Her eyes were wide, almost demonic, and her teeth gritted. She looked at him, her blue eyes, for a moment only, welling with tears or, maybe even regret. "I'm sorry," she whispered, raising the applicator and slamming it into her arm.

James didn't have the strength to move as she slumped sideways against the step, unconscious.

                                                                                                 ******

Charlotte opened her eyes, blinking against the light. She took a steadying breath, before carefully lifting her head. She could feel the last of the effects from the gel dart leaving her system and she was surprised to find she felt better than she had in a long time. Her mind was clear and her body felt strong, as if by sating her alteration's appetite, it had given her more strength, instead of being a constant irritant. The pure pleasure and power she felt at releasing her alteration on James was exhilirating. She tried not to smile at her triumph. She tried not to betray how good it felt to have his mind cowering beneath her own, but then the memories of what she had made him witness came trickling back to her.

Charlotte sat up, her head spinning at the movement. She closed her eyes trying to remember clearly what had happened, shaking off the drowsiness and the mild nausea from the dart. James was sitting away from her, staring straight ahead, across the empty training hall. His skin looked clammy and pale, as if he was going to throw up. He rubbed his hands across his mouth, repeatedly as if in some sort of daze.

"What was that?" she whispered, unable to look away from him. She could feel a blush growing in her cheeks. I took it too far, she thought.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," he exhaled huskily, his gaze not moving from the far wall.

"James..." she breathed, an uneasiness washing over her at his tone, at what she had found in his mind. It was the last thing she had expected.

"What did you do?" he hissed angrily, finally fixing her with a furious green gaze. She stared at him wide-eyed.

"I just..." she began, shaking her head. "It's what I do - You told me to do it. You forced me to do it". Her voice was strong, though as she actually thought more about it guilt hit her full force in the stomach. Not only that, but she found herself unable to hide her embarrassment and confusion.

"I thought I had killed you," he snapped, pushing himself on to his feet.

"I know..." she started, but quickly stopped herself. "Why? I mean... why was that your...?" she said, trying to get her thoughts in order. She couldn't understand what had just happened. "James?" she asked, looking at him uncertainly. "Why are you afraid that... I'll be killed?"

"I'm not," he snapped, running his hands through his hair, jumping off the steps. "I just... You made me think that... to see that". She watched his anger, his fear, still so livid on his face. He had asked her to use her alteration and she did. Even though he had tried to mask his fear, he had been unable to hide it from her, from her alteration.

"That's what... was there... in your head," she said slowly, remembering the images that terrified him most. "I didn't make you think that. It's what you're most afraid of". The words felt wrong coming from her mouth, but they had been true.

"I'm not," he said adamantly. "I just..." The words fell from his mouth, making little sense. He seemed distraught and confused - embarrassed even. "I'm not afraid of..."

"I told you. I told you that you wouldn't be able to deal with this and now..." She moved off the steps towards him. "James... I really didn't mean to," she whispered, hovering close to him, afraid to go closer. "I didn't know... I still don't understand". She couldn't control what they were afraid of and once she had let that part of her take over, she couldn't stop it.

"I thought you were dead," he whispered, looking back to where the image of Charlotte had been lying. "Your blood was on my hands". His voice was hollow, his words uneven. Charlotte bit her lip, watching him. He looked like he was in shock, his green eyes wild. Charlotte felt the uneasy knot form in her stomach. She didn't understand what was happening. Had she got it wrong? Surely, he couldn't be afraid of her dying. She barely knew him.

"Why? James, why the hell is that your fear? We don't even know each other," she snapped. He looked at her with frightened eyes, his mouth opening and closing fruitlessly.

"I don't know," he finally said pointedly. "I... don't know". He was angry and distressed, barely able to string his words together.

"But you hate me".

"You frustrate me," he groaned automatically. "Look Charlotte, I have to go. I can't... go through this... not now". He grabbed his backpack off the ground and hurried to the door, without giving her a second glance.

"James, please... I need to understand," she pleaded, as he opened the door.

"I have to go," he mumbled, disappearing before Charlotte could say another word.

If you enjoyed this chapter, please don't forget to vote and comment! Thanks for reading Altered!!

This chapter is dedicated to @linahanson who was very helpful in straightening out some aspects of this chapter! She has embraced the dark world of Kingston and for that I really appreciate her input! Cursed Times: What Now? her wonderful story, is more than worth a read! Clever, witty and original it brings ancient Egypt to life in the modern world, with a great amount of tension, darkness and humour! Check it out!