I had a random burst of inspiration earlier today so I threw something together at 5 AM. Kind of rushed, since I wanted to get to bed. I plan to add more to it later.
“I’ve done nothing wrong! What do you want from me?!” The girl’s exasperated cries echoed in the still night of the city. Clutching the fresh wound in her side, the girl backpedaled into the alley. As she retreated from the myriad neon lights into the darkness of the alley, she got the first good look at her assailant’s face. There was no sympathy to be found in that woman’s piercing, unnaturally violet eyes.
Clack, clack, clack.
In response to the girl’s desperate cries, the white-haired woman steadied her bloodstained weapon, a slender, silver sword like something straight out of a fantasy flick, and began to slowly advance. The woman’s wooden sandals clattered noisily against the wet pavement, disturbing the still surface of a darkly reflective puddle.
“Stay away from me, you freak! I didn’t do anything to you!” A droplet of blood fell from her wound and into a small puddle, staining the water a vivid red. Seeing that her pursuer had no intentions of hearing her side of the story, the girl turn and bolted down the alley. The gash in her side stung, but it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as it had minutes ago. In fact, it was already nearly healed. She was starting to see some benefits to the changes that her body had begun to undergo.
Clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack.
Behind her, she heard the tempo of her attacker’s noisy footsteps increase dramatically. Her heart pounded in her chest as she ran blindly into the shadowy alley, desperately trying to escape death at the hands of the merciless white-haired woman. Up ahead, she could see where the alley ended. She was nearly home free.
Clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack.
Just a little further…
Clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack.
With freedom just within reach, she stepped on a half-empty, discarded beer bottle someone had tossed thoughtlessly into the alley and lost her footing, falling into a puddle just shy of the street on the other side of the alley.
Clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack.
The sword-wielding killer unrelentingly continued her pursuit, tearing through the distance which separated them in an instant as the girl struggled back onto her feet. Feeling death approaching like a flash of lightning, powerful and indiscriminate, the girl cried out into the night.
“Someone, help! Please!” But she knew that no one would come. After all, she was no longer worthy of help.
Clack.
The sound of footsteps came to an end. The girl tried to crawl away, but was stopped by a sudden, piercing pain that shot through her ankle, causing her to cry out. She tried to drag her body away from the shadow of death that loomed over her, but it was useless. An ever sharper pain shot through her foot as she tried to move.
Of course moving was impossible. The woman had nailed her foot in place with a knife.
Hearing the swishing sound of the woman’s flowing sleeves as she lifted her sword, the girl prepared herself for the finishing blow. She looked down at the ground, not wanting her killer’s face to be the last thing she ever saw, but the woman’s form was clearly reflected on the surface of the puddle into which she had fallen.
The sword raised above her head. Ready to strike. Ready to kill. Ready to tear life effortlessly away. The girl’s lips trembled as she whispered.
“I’m sorry, Fira. Looks like I won’t be coming home tonight.”
Even though she knew her final words would never reach their recipient, she couldn’t allow herself to die without voicing them. It would be too pathetic, too graceless for her last words to be a plea for her life.
“Hey, you! Put the sword down!” Strange voices. Angry voices.
When the woman failed to comply, she was met by a hail of gunfire from the trio of cops. Fresh blood spilt from the half dozen wounds they peppered across her body. Seizing this opportunity, the girl grasped the handle of the knife that was sheathed in her foot and tore it out with a shriek of pain as she dyed the puddle red with the resultant mess. Not missing a beat, she turned and sprinted off into the night, barely limping in spite of the gruesome damage that had just been done to one of her feet.
“Whoah, take it easy! You need to get serious medical attention,” one of the cops advised, but the girl sped by them without hesitating. If the sight of the maimed girl running so effortlessly away surprised him, then nothing could have prepared him for what was about to happen.
In spite of the numerous gunshot wounds she had sustained, the white-haired woman showed no intent to let her prey escape. Barely having been hindered, she began to give chase again. Of course, this display of aggression was met by another round of gunshots. This time, the cops didn’t stop emptying bullets into her until she crumpled over and collapsed onto the wet pavement. She must have been wearing a bulletproof vest under her bizarre clothes, because it took nearly thirty shots to take her down.
The white-haired woman’s eyes remained fixated on the fleeing girl even as her body gave out and collapsed to the ground. As she bled out and both feeling and consciousness began to abandon her, there was only one thought on her mind, more prominent even than the fear of death.
Her prey had escaped. How careless.
Clack, clack, clack.
In response to the girl’s desperate cries, the white-haired woman steadied her bloodstained weapon, a slender, silver sword like something straight out of a fantasy flick, and began to slowly advance. The woman’s wooden sandals clattered noisily against the wet pavement, disturbing the still surface of a darkly reflective puddle.
“Stay away from me, you freak! I didn’t do anything to you!” A droplet of blood fell from her wound and into a small puddle, staining the water a vivid red. Seeing that her pursuer had no intentions of hearing her side of the story, the girl turn and bolted down the alley. The gash in her side stung, but it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as it had minutes ago. In fact, it was already nearly healed. She was starting to see some benefits to the changes that her body had begun to undergo.
Clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack.
Behind her, she heard the tempo of her attacker’s noisy footsteps increase dramatically. Her heart pounded in her chest as she ran blindly into the shadowy alley, desperately trying to escape death at the hands of the merciless white-haired woman. Up ahead, she could see where the alley ended. She was nearly home free.
Clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack.
Just a little further…
Clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack.
With freedom just within reach, she stepped on a half-empty, discarded beer bottle someone had tossed thoughtlessly into the alley and lost her footing, falling into a puddle just shy of the street on the other side of the alley.
Clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack.
The sword-wielding killer unrelentingly continued her pursuit, tearing through the distance which separated them in an instant as the girl struggled back onto her feet. Feeling death approaching like a flash of lightning, powerful and indiscriminate, the girl cried out into the night.
“Someone, help! Please!” But she knew that no one would come. After all, she was no longer worthy of help.
Clack.
The sound of footsteps came to an end. The girl tried to crawl away, but was stopped by a sudden, piercing pain that shot through her ankle, causing her to cry out. She tried to drag her body away from the shadow of death that loomed over her, but it was useless. An ever sharper pain shot through her foot as she tried to move.
Of course moving was impossible. The woman had nailed her foot in place with a knife.
Hearing the swishing sound of the woman’s flowing sleeves as she lifted her sword, the girl prepared herself for the finishing blow. She looked down at the ground, not wanting her killer’s face to be the last thing she ever saw, but the woman’s form was clearly reflected on the surface of the puddle into which she had fallen.
The sword raised above her head. Ready to strike. Ready to kill. Ready to tear life effortlessly away. The girl’s lips trembled as she whispered.
“I’m sorry, Fira. Looks like I won’t be coming home tonight.”
Even though she knew her final words would never reach their recipient, she couldn’t allow herself to die without voicing them. It would be too pathetic, too graceless for her last words to be a plea for her life.
“Hey, you! Put the sword down!” Strange voices. Angry voices.
When the woman failed to comply, she was met by a hail of gunfire from the trio of cops. Fresh blood spilt from the half dozen wounds they peppered across her body. Seizing this opportunity, the girl grasped the handle of the knife that was sheathed in her foot and tore it out with a shriek of pain as she dyed the puddle red with the resultant mess. Not missing a beat, she turned and sprinted off into the night, barely limping in spite of the gruesome damage that had just been done to one of her feet.
“Whoah, take it easy! You need to get serious medical attention,” one of the cops advised, but the girl sped by them without hesitating. If the sight of the maimed girl running so effortlessly away surprised him, then nothing could have prepared him for what was about to happen.
In spite of the numerous gunshot wounds she had sustained, the white-haired woman showed no intent to let her prey escape. Barely having been hindered, she began to give chase again. Of course, this display of aggression was met by another round of gunshots. This time, the cops didn’t stop emptying bullets into her until she crumpled over and collapsed onto the wet pavement. She must have been wearing a bulletproof vest under her bizarre clothes, because it took nearly thirty shots to take her down.
The white-haired woman’s eyes remained fixated on the fleeing girl even as her body gave out and collapsed to the ground. As she bled out and both feeling and consciousness began to abandon her, there was only one thought on her mind, more prominent even than the fear of death.
Her prey had escaped. How careless.
