Every time Peter returned to the Tower,  he was reminded of the mysteries it still held. Without fail, when he crested the southern hill, the Tower’s haunting beauty took his breath away.  The southern hill gave the first complete vista of its enormity. It was still  a day and half journey by foot before Peter would reach its gates. Even at this distance, the tower still seemed larger than life. It truly was an impressive structure.

After a moment of reflection, peter descended the hill toward the town of Rawl, the last stopgap between him and the relic he had called home for a little over a year. His brown acolyte robes kicked up dust from the well-worn path he traveled, quickly taken away by a light summer breeze, a staple of the summer season.  Shade appeared over the area as the sun was briefly shaded by a passing cloud. He glanced up at the sky, quickly taking note of the sun’s position.

“A little past midday,” he commended to no one particular. “I’m making good time. Should arrive in Rawl in a few hours.”

Peter let his mind wander as he continued along the path, softly whistling the melody to an old folk song. Were the lyrics to the melody sung, it would have detailed the deeds historical heroes that brought civilization into the current age.

“That old song again?” A female voice scoffed.

Peter’s eyes snapped wide open in startle, nearly tripping over his own feet mid stride in fright. The voice had invaded his serene state of mind. After a moment, he smoothed the front of his robes, as if to say he was once more composed. As he did this, he heard one of the most annoying laughs in his life. It was high pitched and nasally.

The voice stifled her laugh as she spoke once more. “You forgot about the master’s arrangement didn’t you?” Not giving Peter a chance to respond, she continued. “Typical Peter. Head’s always lost in the clouds somewhere.”

“It is not.” He defended, finally meeting the gaze the woman. She had been behind him, stalking him silently. Her eyes twinkled violet in amusement.

“Oh,” She baited. “Well, then how could you forget that you were supposed to meet me at the crest of the southern hill?”

“ I—“ He started. She had him. The mysterious beauty of the Tower from the southern hill always lead him to ponder things greater than himself. He knew she was right but, he refused to give her the satisfaction. She always took it too far. “I was not Joanna,” frustration seeping into his voice.

“Really?” She said in humored sarcasm, voice moving up an octave briefly as if to say, I know better you better than that Peter.  She clasped her hands in front of her blue acolyte robes, waiting expectantly for him to give in.

Peter knew what she was waiting for. This always happened. She would accuse him of something; back him into a corner with a smug look on her face, waiting for him to admit she was right. Not today. He would not give her the satisfaction.

“I’ve had enough of this Joanna!” He exclaimed, suddenly seething with all the frustration she had caused him over the last few months. “Stop. Just stop, and leave me be!” Without further word, he pulled the hood of his robes up, turned, and jogged toward Rawl, leaving Joanna in stunned silence.

Joanna watched him go, not knowing what to think. This was unlike Peter. He almost never got mad at her. Sure, she had seen him get mad at others but, never her.  It was if something had snapped in her friend. She rolled a loose thread of her robes between her thumb and index finger as she played over the events in her head. I didn’t do anything, she thought shaking her head, denying any wrongdoing. Where does he get off yelling at me? It was decided. Peter needed to know he was wrong. Joanna hurried after him, now angry.

Peter could no longer enjoy the day. His mind was in turmoil as he neared the outskirts of Rawl. He was angry with himself and Joanna. I didn’t need to lose my temper with her. She’s always trying to push my buttons. It’s nothing new. He shook his head, annoyed that he lost his usually collected demeanor.

But isn’t that exactly the point? A voice answered. She’s ALWAYS pushing our buttons. There comes a time where a man needs to draw a line in the sand. Enough is enough.


No buts. She’s an annoying girl that gets off on pushing your buttons. Something needed to be done.


“Peter. Get your scrawny ass back here you dim witted boy!” Joanna screamed as she chased him, interrupting his inner dialog.

He winced at her tone, knowing she was exceedingly pissed off. Now you’re in for a tongue lashing. His inner voice said humorously. What are you going to do?

Shut up. Peter sighed, steeled himself, preparing for the verbal assault he was going to get. Turning around to meet Joanna, he pulled his hood down. As she approached, Peter could see how furious she looked. Her face was redder than usual, and she was clenching her fists. When he was close enough to see her eyes, her pupils were beady, locked on his person. He swallowed hard. This was going to be loud.

“Yes?” He said tersely,

Stopping inches from his pale face Joanna began yelling at him. “Where you get off yelling at me?! No one yells at me! All I did was ask you a question, and you have the nerve to yell at me and blow me off. How dare you? I simply can’t believe you would do this to me…” Her rant went on like this for a little over ten minutes before Peter simply had enough.

“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!” He yelled at her progressively getting louder, causing her abruptly to end her barrage of insults. “How dare I? How dare you! I’ve been nothing but good to you. Nothing but kind and gentle. This is now you repay my kindness. I think not” Peter was furious. This time, something really had snapped inside him. Joanna started to back up, fearful.  He started slowly, menacingly moving forward, closing the distance between him and his prey.

The voice inside Peter’s head laughed maniacally. This was it.

“You think you have the right to be angry?” He scoffed. “My anger with you holds no bounds. You whine, bitch, moan, and tease thinking nothing of others. That ends now.”

Peter slowly and precisely rolled up the right sleeve of his robe.  On his arm was a sleeve of tribal tattoos, all interconnected. A few of them were glowing, burning red.

Joanna scrambled backwards, falling to the ground. “Peter. Please. Wha— What are you going to do?” Her voice trembled.

“Create silence.” He said simply and coldly, very unlike the Peter she knew. The red tattoos shifted and moved up his forearm until they were in his palm. However, instead of tattoos, he now held a glowing orb of fire.

“Wait. Please. We have been friends for over a year. Think about what you are do—”


See. That wasn’t so hard, was it? The same voice said.

Shut up.

2 pages max (No more than 1200 words) – no Minimum.

Why did Peter lose his temper with Joanna
Where did he go after he stormed out?
What happened to him when he got there?