Jared tapped an impatient finger on the wooden table in front of him. He had grown tired of waiting hours ago, and started to incessantly move from sitting on the unstable stool to standing or pacing on the gravelly floor. He glanced at the ceiling multiple times, trying to come up with a more aggressive plan than the one the master had given him. Jared noted the broken stones of the wall and the strange liquid leaking through the top corner of the room, as well as the shattered splinters of wood and cracked human skulls lying in a dusty heap on the cold stone floor. Even though it was the same exact cell he had been hiding in for years, and the same details he saw every day of his life, the familiar setting helped to calm his nerves.
    The metal gate creaked open behind Jared, and his twin sister appeared in the chamber.
    “Took you long enough,” Jared spat. He watched with glaring eyes as Jezzibel stuck her tongue out at him, then gently but noisily closed the gate to their cell.
    “I had to take an unplanned detour,” Jezzibel explained, not looking too happy about it. Jared sighed loudly and obnoxiously, then said, “I don’t understand why we must be so critical and precise at this time. We clearly have the advantage, why don’t we just get out there and bust some heads? I say we make the first move before we’re discovered.”
“You make a good point, brother. But we can’t just run out there and kill whomever we desire. We have a target, and a master as well. We have to follow his orders and apprehend the target without being seen.”
    “But they can’t see if their dead,” Jared protested. Jezzibel just glared at him and maneuvered her way to the other side of the room to retrieve her hat. She placed the pointy witch hat on her head, the silky black material complimenting her silky black hair that hung loosely over her shoulders and down to her elbows. Her lips were painted just as dark as her gloomy hair. She wore a sleeveless black gown that reached the bottom of the cell, with a slit cut on one side, loose fabrics hanging from the open dress. Her skin was deathly pale, but that’s what you get when you were born a necromancer. Her eyes . . . Jared shivered. He tried not to think about them too much, or look directly at them. They were a ghoulish green, which had a tendency to turn red when she was in rage or ready to kill someone.
    The two twins would be undistinguishable if it wasn’t for the fact that one was male; the other female. They shared the same exact height, eye tint, same shade of hair, and they even had the same mole on their left cheek just below their eye.
But of course Jared didn’t wear a dress or a witch hat, or have long flowing hair like Jezzibel. No, Jared preferred to keep his attire consisting of leather instead of silk, seeing as how different materials and fabrics amplified different magic and spells.
    Jared wore a black leather jacket with corresponding combat boots, a dark grey shirt with the depiction of a skull on it, and coal-black jeans with a silver chain hanging on the side of his hip.
    The siblings had equivalent rings that they wore on the middle finger of their right hand. Crafted into the shape of a skull with an eerie dragon slithering out of the eye socket, entering the nose, and back out the other eye, the burnished ring was proof of Jezzibel’s existence; it even had the same meticulous scratch near the mouth of the skull. It was as if they were exact replicas of each other.
    “But really,” Jared pressed, “who is going to see us?”
    “They could,” Jezzibel replied matter-of-factly. Jared’s eyes followed Jezz curiously as she moved over to the dingy table and took a seat on one of the stools.
    “You keep mentioning them. Who are they? I know for a fact that you are hiding something from me, and I have reason to believe that you know even more than you are letting on.”
    “It is nothing that should concern you.”
    “Of course it is! You are not the only one who was sent on this mission. I’m here too, and I need to know enough information to help. You cannot do everything on your own, and you certainly can’t keep hiding secrets from me if you want this undertaking to turn out the way it was prearranged by the master.”
    Jezzibel jerked her head toward him, her eyes flashing red, and she said in a low, unforgiving tone, “You have spoken numerous times about the knowledge I preserve and where I have originated from. If I hear one more word about this topic, I will happily approach the master and inform him of your disobedience on this quest and he will have no choice but to cast you out into the pit from which I came. Remember, brother, I am the one who presented you with your supremacies in this world, and I could greedily take them away if I please.”
    Jared kept his mouth shut for a few seconds, then whispered, “I just wanted to know who they are . . . “
    Jezzibel sighed, “The resistance,” she examined the table with her skeleton-like fingers, scraping the planks with her black nails, creating curled wood shaving, then brushing them aside with her fingertips.
    “Alright, well that’s all,” Jared stated, wanting to leave the room before Jezz threw a fit and started lobbing and flinging things across the room, “I’ll be beside the water well if you need me,” he exited the room, leaving Jezzibel sitting at the table.

    Glad that she was finally alone, Jezz strolled over to her grimy book shelf covered in filthy cobwebs and tugged a piece of parchment from the undercover of her most favorable spell book, which she always kept on the topmost shelf with the rest of her enchantments, and beheld the familiar layout of the map that displayed her home town. Her settlement, where mages, witches, magic, and power were common, and seemed to emit from everyone and everything. Magic was simply unfamiliar and unheard of in this new realm. But not for long. Jezzibel smiled grievously, thinking of all the destruction she would soon bring to this world and everyone in it.
    All she had to do was dispose of them.