#i thought i might put a little underland spin on it

[haveihitanerve]

You’re a young woman who has just moved to New York City, returning after three years abroad. No one knows this, but you have a certain power that allows you to see how dangerous a person is on a scale from 1-10. Like a toddler with a knife would be a 2 while a serial killer might be an 8. You are thankful you’ve never seen higher than a seven. But when you move into your new apartment building you stumble across your new neighbor, or who you assume is your neighbor. He has brilliant blond hair and kind, warm eyes, but they somehow seem dimmed. That doesn’t worry you. But the number over his head makes you blink. You’ve never seen a nine before. He smiles kindly at you. “Hello.” He has a strange accent, one you’ve never heard before. “I’m Howard.” You introduce yourself and shake his hand, although a little hesitant. “I’m new here. Just moved in.” Howard nods back. “Well I don’t personally live here, I’m just visiting my brother in law. But I’m sure I’ll see you around. And if you ever need anything, just knock on that door over there.” He points it out to you. “My sister and brother in law will be happy to assist you.” You nod in thanks, although you plan on never having to deal with the family of this nine. Even if he seems nice. But, as fate would have it, a week later you unfortunately need help, and begrudgingly make your way over to the neighboring apartment and knock. The girl who opens the door is young, and smiles friendly. “Hi you!” She greets cheerfully. You relax a little. True the number over her head is a seven, but you were expecting a nine or even ten, and it’s nice. “Boots? Who’s at the door?” Calls a voice. The girl, boots, you assume, cocks her head at you. “What can I help you with?” She asks. “I met your brother? Howard?I just moved in next door. I’m sorry I need a little help and he told me I could come to you.” Boots grins. “Of course! Luxa! Gregor! Come help!” You thank her and then stumble back in surprise when a woman, around your age, comes to the door. She has white blond hair and dark purple eyes. And there’s a very clear ten glowing above her head. “Gregor!” She calls. “I’m coming, I'm coming!” Comes the answer. “Wait- Gregor?” You ask. “Gregor Campbell? And your- you’re boots! Of course!” You exclaim. “We were neighbors as kids. We went to school together!” Boots lights up. “Right! I remember you! So nice to see you again!” Before you can respond Gregor appears. And you almost faint. That’s it. Your power is broken. Because there is no way that Gregor Campbell is an eleven.