Disclaimer: I do not own Hunter x Hunter; only my plot and my original characters belong to me.

Author's Note: Lordy...it's been a while. Hi there, dear readers. I'm so sorry to have taken so long to get this chapter up there. After a year of no updates, I don't have many excuses, just an explanation of why this chapter took so damned long: You know how when you're writing, and the story just seems take on a life of its own and to head organically in one direction, despite what you--the author--originally intended? That's kind of what happened with this scene, and I've been fighting against it for months. Well, I finally decided to let the story take control, and I've got to say, despite my crazed perfectionist ways, I honestly feel it was the right choice. I certainly hope you feel the same. Enjoy the sixth chapter, and thank you again! I'm going to start work on the seventh chapter as soon as possible!

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Chapter Six: Catalyst

...

Outside the glittering tower of Heaven's Arena, the stars slowly disappeared under a black veil of clouds. The surrounding skyscrapers' lights gradually flickered out, one after another, until the buildings were merely hulking, empty husks looming precariously over the streets below. Darkness pressed upon the windows, warping them inward, hungry to stain every surface within.

Even inside Hisoka's apartment, what little light that existed seemed to be starved of its luminescence, stolen away by the intensity in the mysterious magician's eyes. They were like twin pinpoints of gravity: drawing everything around into them, holding it there with an unspeakable force, and refusing to let go.

And right now they were solely fixed on Rhea Satto.

"I believe that's five questions...my turn to play interviewer."

As the man spoke, Rhea struggled to not let her fear consume her. She wanted out. Her gaze strayed in the direction of the door, and she briefly considered attempting an escape, but she doubted her wobbly legs could carry her so far.

Hisoka guessed her thoughts instantly. "You're welcome to leave if you wish," he told her, the words laced with a false benevolence.

Rhea's widened eyes darted back up to stare at him, her fear temporarily masked by disbelief. Was she really so transparent, and so weak? More importantly, was there even a downside to never having to meet with Hisoka again? After all, she'd received the answers she had sought from him, and had already been given a different job by her boss. She no longer had any reason to stay in the magician's presence. But just as she thought she'd made up her mind, the young woman hesitated.

Is--is this another test? she wondered suddenly.

The revelation struck her like a bolt of ice to her chest, and spun her already frenzied thoughts into a whirlwind of suspicion. What could Hisoka be assessing this time? Maybe he wished to see if she was sincere enough to honor her end of their deal. Maybe he wanted to further measure her courage. Maybe it wasn't a test at all, but a cruel trick to gain her trust before he killed her--not unlike when Wenxin had lured her into his home.

Almost being murdered didn't teach me anything, did it? she thought bitterly.

The young woman's eyes dropped to her lap once more, and she watched as a stray finger wormed its way out of her entwined hands and began to pick at the bandages that covered her mutilated knuckles. She imagined pressing the bare flesh to her lips, the satisfying scrape of rough skin against her teeth, and the sharp taste of iron and blood stinging her tongue.

Damn it, she thought despairingly. Why do I do this to myself? Why can't I just walk away?

Rhea's lashes fluttered closed, and a single hot tear streaked down the side of her bandaged cheek. The journalist winced slightly as the saltwater sank through the gauze and came into contact with the bloody gash underneath. The pain slowly blossomed throughout her body, relieving some of the chill in her blood, and reviving some of her former resolve.

If the magician meant to test her, she didn't want to fail. If he meant to kill her, she wanted to die with dignity, not running from him like some animal. A frantic, final scream of protest throbbed painfully in her throat, but swallowed it along with the rest of her remaining terror. The young woman slowly straightened herself in her seat, opened her eyes, and gazed coldly into Hisoka's own. When she spoke, each word felt like a nail being pounded into her own coffin, but she didn't flinch.

"No, I'll stay," she whispered.

Even if it kills me...

...

It was a foolish decision.

Of course, Hisoka wasn't going to protest. It was a thrill to terrify the young woman, and when he saw her struggle to mask that fear with a thin veneer of determination, his body lit up with little sparks of blissful electricity. The bursts of euphoria sizzled and hopped from nerve to nerve, forcing him to hold back a shudder. It was intoxicating.

"Excellent," he responded, hiding his ravenous thoughts behind a nonchalant grin. "Now, where to begin..."

Hisoka slide his tongue slowly across his lips, his mind slipping in and out of darkness, lusting for more than just a quick, clean thrill. Just the thought of slaying Rhea Satto was like a sip of fine wine to his senses. His eyes darted from the young woman's pale, bandaged face to the crimson stains dotting her collar, and he practically salivated for the chance to paint her entire body with blood. The intense need did not diminish, even when he flicked his eyes away from his guest. It left his body aching from the inside, his blood racing, his aura rippling with rich, intoxicating waves of pleasure. Oh, how he wanted it. He wanted to enjoy all of it at once--rushing, red, and euphoric.

But...not...yet.

Only the magician's intense curiosity halted his ravenous bloodlust. He still wondered how the reporter had survived her deadly encounter with Li Wenxin, and why she felt compelled to come back, despite her obvious fear of him. Perhaps it was simply luck that had saved the girl from death, perhaps she had a secret death wish--or maybe--just maybe--something more profound had been the catalyst.

Now was his chance to find out.

But he would have to do so carefully. The young woman was skittish, so easily frightened--like a small, wide-eyed rodent knowingly caught in the gaze of a predator. Another shock could send her bounding out the door, leaving the magician without something to entertain himself. That simply wouldn't do. And so, like any indulgence, Hisoka intended to savor it slowly...delicately.

His eyes slid slowly back up to the girl's pale face, and he wasted no more time.

"As I've said before, Rhea Satto, I'm curious to hear how you escaped Wenxin," he began. "But first, I want to know more about you..."

The girl's eyes narrowed a bit in surprise, but she said nothing. Hisoka took this as an invitation to continue--which he did, with a leering, bloodthirsty smile.

"So, tell me, Rhea Satto..." The magician's voice transformed into a lilting, poisonous melody. "...what is your greatest fear?"

...

Rhea's eyes bulged wide.

No. No, no, no. I don't want to go back there. I don't want to remember. Please, no.

But it was already too late. The door to her dark memories had been opened, and like a vacuum into space, she was being sucked in. Her heart grew cold, her face became ashy and pale, and she was suddenly transported back to a day thirteen years before--the day her childhood died.

Fire.

Its bright, flickering tendrils were once something she'd treasured. The flame was a living thing. It had calmed her, to watch the glowing, golden threads stretching upward, growing until she blew them out with a puff of breath. Even though her mother had forbade her to continue to foster her growing fascination, she had done so anyway.

It had been her secret. But that was before the fire had turned on her.

She could hear the rhythmic crackle of its heartbeat and feel its heated breath on her neck. It licked its fiery tongue on her skin. It ate, chewing through wood, mortar, and flesh with the slow, voracious hunger of a monster.

Yes, it was monstrous. Regardless of their deceitful beauty, the flames were a harbinger of death. Now Rhea understood that crucial fact, but it was much too late to change her fate.

Suddenly she was eight years old again, and the air around her sparked red and gold, both dazzling and deadly. She felt herself scream, but her weakened voice was not enough to rise above the flames. Another scream sounded, but it was not her own. It called her name, over and over and over again. It was her mother's voice, but she could not return the desperate cry. The smoke strung withered, wispy cords around her neck, tightening slowly and choking off her oxygen. She stared in horror as the curling fingers of heat crawled across her skin, reaching up towards her face.

The images played like grainy roles of film inside Rhea's head, distorted by the pain they carried. What she felt now wasn't crippling anxiety or stomach-churning nausea. It was the absence of a feeling at all. A dreadful numbness iced over every inch of her flesh, deadening nearly all of her senses. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't look away, and she couldn't speak.

However, her silence incited no response from Hisoka. Instead, he waited patiently with a wicked expression upon his face: Sharply-arched eyebrows knitted together, lips stretched in a wide, sickle-shaped smile, and bright amber eyes burning into hers like the embers of a barely-contained fire. Suddenly, Rhea understood why the glint in his eyes had seemed so dreadfully familiar.

The bright, flickering tendrils that she had once found so captivating, the roaring glow that had consumed everything around her with a ravenous hunger, the destructive conflagration that had permeated her nightmares since her childhood...

...those same flames filled Hisoka's eyes whenever he looked at her.

In her mind, Rhea was eight years old again, innocent and unaware of the impending danger until it was too late. Hisoka, with his lingering gaze and insatiable appetite for violence, was the fire. The young reporter suddenly realized she'd made an enormous mistake.

I was wrong. I can't stay here.

Somehow, her frozen legs managed to move, regaining some vague semblance of sensation. She rose from the chair quickly, steadying herself on her wobbly knees by propping her arms on the table. Her lips regained their feeling next, and Rhea gazed blankly down at Hisoka as she spoke.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice a cold, robotic murmur. "I changed my mind."

The young woman turned away without so much as an explanation, clumsily plodding in the direction of the door. Her body felt like it was disconnected from itself, like a marionette being jerked around by a reckless child, yet she continued forward. She heard no footsteps following behind her, only her own heartbeat pounding rapidly in her ears, as she approached the open doorway.

Time slowed, and Rhea glimpsed just a few inches of the carpeted hall outside the door before it suddenly and violently disappeared with a thunderous slam.

The journalist glanced dumbfoundedly at the now-closed door in front of her. How had it just slammed shut on its own? She glanced back at Hisoka, but he still sat in his chair across the room, watching her confusion with obvious amusement. Turning back to the door, she clenched the doorknob in her bandaged hands and twisted.

Nothing happened. The girl's panic reached new heights. Frantically, she seized the mechanism and yanked with all the strength she had left. The door still refused to budge. Primal fear and adrenaline ripped through her veins, heightening her senses, and suddenly she perceived an ominous presence looming behind her. Her eyes trailed upward and bulged with terror when they settled on the slender, white hand that held the door shut.

"Tsk, tsk, Rhea Satto..." Hisoka chided softly--dangerously--his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. As he spoke, she could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck, just like the scorching heat of the fire so many years ago. "It's bad manners to leave without saying goodbye--and it's unspeakably rude to leave your end of the deal unfulfilled."

The magician's head glided over her right shoulder, closing what little space existed between them, and she felt his next words shudder against her ear.

"Turn around."

His voice had gained a sudden, deadly edge--and it drove a shock of dread through the young woman's heart. A familiar, prickling sensation slowly crawled up her body, like thousands of needles jabbing her skin, and she gasped at the sudden, unexpected physical pain that the magician's proximity caused.

She spun around to face him, her breath hitching in her chest, her head kept low to hide the tears streaming down her cheeks. She was trapped again, in a near-inescapable situation, with a killer. However, this time, no sudden burst of courage flooded her heart. No miraculous determination to live manifested itself within her mind. The strange, suffocating pressure against her skin crescendoed to such a degree that it held her in place. All Rhea could do was close her eyes tightly and wait for the end.

But it never came.

Instead, Hisoka leaned in, resting his arm against the door above her head, as she cowered under his darkening shadow.

"Such a shame that you would forget your dedication so quickly," he said. "However, I am strangely compelled to forgive your transgression...if you agree to a few more conditions."

The young woman's eyes fluttered open in surprise; her heart throbbed so desperately in her throat that she nearly choked on it.

"No more monthly interviews," the Heaven's Arena combatant went on. "From now on, come when called. I'll determine the time and place. And from now on, I'll always be the one interviewing you. If what you tell me pleases me, I may reciprocate."

Rhea blinked in disbelief, but she stayed silent, still too frightened to speak--even though now she was uncertain of Hisoka's intentions. Even when she felt the pain of the doorknob digging into the flesh of her back, she dared not to move a muscle. She was a statue on the brink of crumbling.

"If that arrangement is acceptable to you, nod," Hisoka finally prompted.

The young woman blinked, and a single glittering tear fell to the floor between their feet. She stared at it as she considered what seemed like Hisoka's final offer. What other choice did she have? Certainly to refuse would be to welcome death. She had to do whatever she had to do to get out of here alive. Eventually, her stiff muscles softened slightly, and she gave a tiny, reluctant nod.

The magician grinned, obviously pleased, and the prickling pressure diminished enough to allow Rhea to breathe. Instinctively, she lifted her chin from her heaving chest, and as she did, Hisoka's free hand rose up and he stuck a long, sharp nail under her chin, forcing their eyes to meet. The girl gasped as she was frozen in yet another of the magician's intense, fiery gazes.

"Oh, and one more thing, Rhea Satto." The wolfish grin reappeared on his face, and his eyes shone like glowing embers once again. "You will return to me to fulfill your end of the deal. Do you want know why?"

The young woman squirmed and whimpered as she felt Hisoka press his nail into the soft, tender flesh at her jaw, drawing her face closer to his.

"Because if you don't, I'll come for you," he told her. "Understood?"

Rhea bit the inside of her lip, hard enough to draw blood. It tasted metallic and sharp, like a knife in her mouth. She understood, of course. The message couldn't have been clearer. Do as I tell you, or you'll die. The magician drew back his finger, releasing the young woman's chin, and she nodded again in compliance, utterly helpless to do anything else.

"Good girl," he said. Behind her, the door miraculously unlatched.

Hisoka granted her one last, leering grin, and stepped back into the darkness of the room. Now the young woman could only see the blurred outline of his body - that, and his yellow, terribly perceptive eyes. As the shadows obscured more and more of him from view, his eyes stayed fixed on her, glowing despite the gathering dark. She continued to watch them with bated breath as the magician retreated to one of the room's vast windows. He turned around to face the neon lights of the city outside, only thin sheen of light illuminating his pale, painted face, and said no more.

And then Rhea was gone, out the door, down the hall, her legs carrying her away from that darkened space as fast as they possibly could.

...

Intoxicating.

Hisoka felt a pleasurable shudder ripple through his flesh, and he slumped slightly in front of his window, gazing dazedly out into the swirling darkness and illuminated streets below. His second encounter with Rhea Satto hadn't gone exactly as planned, but it had been more than enough to fully arouse his bloodlust. Dark desires festered within his twisted mind, and his muscles ached and twitched with every ravenous thought.

It had been extraordinarily difficult to resist the temptation to slay the girl, but as before, curiosity and the desire to continue tormenting her stopped him. Right now, the world was simply more interesting to him with her alive. However, he wasn't sure he could resist the urge next time.

Such a sweet, broken, delightful little toy....

The magician leaned forward, pressed his forehead against the cool, smooth glass, and sighed. His eyes dipped down and spied the 200-story drop into space on the other side. He sucked in a few slow, tremorous breaths, but they did nothing to dampen the fiery impulses within him. His nen vibrated and pulsed violently around his body, growing stronger every second.

Suddenly the chilled glass against his head gave a mighty crack, and a spiderweb of bright fissures rippled across the window--created by the sheer pressure of his murderous aura. Hisoka leaned back, somewhat surprised that he hadn't maintained better control.

Something had to give, he decided. He needed release.

His heavy-lidded gaze slide to the side, and he peered out towards the yellow, illuminated rectangle that was the doorway. In her haste to leave, Rhea Satto had left the door wide open. To Hisoka, that was enough, and he knew what to do next to alleviate his desires.

He grinned wickedly, and in a moment he too was out the door.

...

Rhea reached the elevator, she jumped inside and slammed her fist onto the button for the ground floor--although she didn't really care where the contraption took her. Anywhere was better than here. The door closed with a soft "ding" behind her, and she collapsed onto the floor.

Her little body curled up in the middle of the empty elevator car, racked with powerful, uncontrollable sobs. She balled up a fist and shoved it--bandages and all--towards her mouth. Her jaws instantly clenched down on her mangled knuckles, slicing through the flimsy gauze and drawing new blood, and a muffled scream tore itself from her