He inhaled. Exhaled. And repeat. Satake stepped out of the doors of the De'crescent hotel and stalked his way down to his motorcycle. The cool evening breeze seemed to soothe his catastrophic mind. He had always been a man attuned to all his senses but as he saddled on his helmet, Satake's mind was attuned to all but one. He couldn't get his mind to forget what that warlock has said. All he could see was that disappointed expression on that charmingly handsome face.
"Witchphobic..." Isaac had accused but he truly knew nothing of what Satake had endured in the hands of a particular witch. He had managed to conceal it while they had worked their little spells but something sinister within him cursed Satake for letting him go. That little voice at the back of his head wanted to gut them
