Tentacle University pt. 23

Harper was moving quickly through the dark streets.  She had put on a sweater, a pair of tights and ballet flats, all in black.  She hadn’t been on the hunt in a couple years, and had realized much too late that she was lacking the proper gear.  She had her weapons, sure, but the special armor, the outfit, had all been left at home. 

She had thought of calling Whitley, to see if he had any extra gear, but he hadn’t picked up.  Probably out could from the pain meds.  She hadn’t been able to reach Charlotte either.  That worried her.  Charlotte was supposed to be her point person tonight, and she was suddenly MIA. 

It wasn’t like her. 

Cherry moved carefully through the main campus, towards the arts buildings.  Her senses weren’t as great as they use to be, but she could already feel the energy of the Mythos coming from that area.  It was strong, too.  It was strong enough to make her stomach knot up. 

She wasn’t ready for this.  She was out of practice, out of shape, and scared out of her goddamn mind. 

“Where you going?”

Cherry froze.  The voice came from behind her.  It was male, young, and oddly familiar.  She turned, double checking to make sure that her blades were hidden under her bulky sweater. 

The guy stood on the sidewalk behind her.  His clothes were tattered, and blood speckled his arms and face.  His face was a blank, no emotion. 

“I’m… meeting some friends.” Cherry kept her voice as calm as possible. 

“It isn’t safe out here.” He took a step towards her. “There’s a killer on the loose, don’t you know?”

“Yeah… that’s why I’m meeting up with friends.” Cherry took a step back.  “Safety in numbers, right?”

“Other people like you?” Another step forward.

Great.  She had run into a psycho racist.  Just what she needed.  She felt her muscles relax a bit. 

“Like me?” She held her ground. 

“Yep.” His hand snaked behind his back.  “People like you.”

“And what is that exactly?” She readied herself for a barrage of racist bullshit. 

“Hen warriors.” He spit the words out, as if their very presence in his mouth would poison him.  “He told me all about your kind.  He told me to take care of you, and I am.  Charlotte was easy.  Lets see you if you’ll be a challenge.”

Cherry’s muscles went taught again, her hands reaching under her sweater and pulling her blades loose. 

He rushed her, a dagger gripped in his right hand. 

Good, she thought to herself, a warm up.

The guy was fast, faster than she had expected.  Cherry dodged and weaved the best she could, but he was keeping her on the defensive.  She couldn’t find an opening to make her move.  Shit.

He had said he had taken down Charlotte.  If he had managed that, even with the element of surprise, then he needed some skills, or at least some supernatural boost to his speed.  She had seen his kind before.  The minions.  Mythos loved collecting minions.  Not only were they a stable, willing food supply, but they were great diversions. 

He swiped at her, his blade just missing her cheek.  His arm was extended, and she had her chance.  Using her right hand she swung the long, curved blade upwards, she caught him in the side, the blade sliding between two ribs.  She dug it deep, and then pulled her hand back, slicing his torso wide open. 

He didn’t react.  No screams, no howls, no nothing.  He just kept on coming, although the strained sound of his breathing clued her into the fact that she had managed to knick one of his lungs. 

Good.  Supernatural speed, or not, it was very hard to fight with a collapsed lung. 

He was faltering, his body growing weaker from the blood loss.  He was swiping at her, his movements wild and unfocused.  She had this. 

Using the glittering, straight edged blade she carried in her left hand she lunged.  The blade pierced his throat, and slid through his flesh as if it were butter. When she felt the blade push through the back of his neck, she gave the hilt a hard twist, and blood spluttered out of his mouth. 

With a hard kick to the chest she pulled him from her blade, and he stumbled back.  His hands grasped at his shredded neck, his eyes wide in surprise.  Then he went rigid, and his body hit the ground with a sick, sloppy thud. 

He had done his job.  He had kept her distracted, and now, gathering her wits about her, she mentally scanned the area for the Mythos’s energy. 

It was stronger now, so much stronger. 

Shit, she thought to herself, if she didn’t get to that thing soon it was going  to be too strong. 

Slipping the blades back under her sweater, she took off again, her path at least clearer.  She needed to get to the dance building.