I pushed myself up and stood to face the boy. He had not moved an inch, waiting for me to attack first. He still hadn't spoken. He just stood where he was, staring at us with dead, unfeeling eyes. 

"Watch out for those spheres on his hands," Gio whispered. 

"The glowing blue balls of death, you mean." 

I heard him choked. "Yes, those...things." 

I would have to ask him later how he knew about the subject. The mystery keeps getting deeper, with only glowing blue balls to light my way. This would have been a lot funnier if we were not trying to survive for the next five minutes.

Within a fraction of a second, the boy was in front of me, arms positioned to deliver a blow in one deadly arch. I barely had time to evade his attack. He followed it up with an upward forceful thrust of his knee that caught my already battered ribs, and a merciless punch in the gut. The pain that was already starting to subside came back in full force. I coughed up blood, and my vision once again filled-up with dancing stars. I was falling, and my mind wanted nothing more than to welcome the reprieve that oblivion would bring. 

My hand shot to the ground to stop myself from falling. Not yet.

Gio aimed the gun at the boy but no bullet came out. He cursed. Tough luck. I blocked a kick that was aimed at my chest and swung my fist for a counter-attack. He evaded it. I hissed in pain when something sharp sliced through my leg. In front of me, the boy's lips turned upward ever so slightly. On his hand was a dagger, already tainted with blood. 

He just stood there, waiting for my next move. A game. This was a game for him. I stood up, only to fall towards the ground that was already slick with my blood.  My vision began to blur as exhaustion caught up with me. My neglected wounds from earlier refused to be ignored any longer. Everything was alight with pain. 

The boy vanished from my line of sight, then reappeared right in front of me, his right palm outstretched with the blue ball from hell glowing mockingly and aiming for my chest.  I tried to parry his attack, but my arms already felt like lead. All I managed to do was grab his wrist and hold it still, preventing that damnable ball from touching me and sapping my remaining energy. It was a battle of strength that I was losing fast. 

My arms were about to give in when the boy was suddenly airborne.  He landed atop some crates positioned against the building wall. The sudden release of pressure caused my body to lurch forward towards the ground. A hand caught me before my face got imprinted on the sandy earth. 

"Are you okay?" Gio said.

"Huh."  It was all I could manage to say as I fought for consciousness. 

"You're losing blood fast." 

Great. Exactly what we need right now.

Gio removed his branded as fuck long-sleeved shirt and bent down, tying it around my bleeding leg to staunch the blood flow.  The boy had recovered from his acquaintance with the crates and was eyeing Gio with interest. He advanced slowly, one step at a time as Gio deftly knotted his make-shift bandage around my leg. He made a final knot and faced the boy.  With my dimming vision, I saw the boy lurch and sent his fist flying. Gio evaded it and made several counter-attacks. He matched the boy's movement at every turn. 

Familiar. This looks familiar.

I closed my eyes shut as something peculiar arose within me. Up, up it went from the darkest corners of my mind and drifted ever so slowly into my consciousness. Fighting, and shouting. Mom, shouting. Mom.

"Stop!" Mom pleaded as I cowered in a corner, bawling my eyes out. A knife sliced through flesh. Terrible grunt and screams echoed. A pain-laced voice that cut through me like a sword.

"No! Dad!"  I shouted and shouted. "Stop! Please!"   

"Reianne! Take your Mom. Get out of here!"  the voice said. Something in me protested. I didn't want to leave him. Not him! Not ever! But I couldn't see his face. I couldn't see Mom's face. Everything was hidden by the fog my mind created and refused to clear. The pain-laced screams though, they were loud and blaring, and try as I might to hide from them, they resonated throughout my being, disintegrating all made-up peace I had in me.

There was another grunt, louder this time, and I snapped back to where I was. I saw Gio sprawled on the ground, several bruises already forming on his arms and face. 

I wiped my cheeks. I didn't know I was crying. 

The air around me crackled and buzzed. I felt the familiar hunger from the very pits of my stomach, crawling its way up to my chest and tearing a scream from my lips; felt the tendrils of death flow and ooze from the pores of my skin. The hunger grew stronger and stronger until I couldn't hold it in any longer. A single movement and I would come undone. 

They will pay. The words crossed my mind again and again. 

They will pay. I promised myself.

My vision zeroed in on the boy, who had once again pummelled Gio to the ground. Gio was still fighting. He kicked the boy just as he was about to land another blow. The boy barely showed any sign that he felt the kick, however, and grabbed Gio by his undershirt. The ball on his hand glowed as he prepared to slam his palm onto Gio. 

I bristled. 

How dare he! 

With a sudden bound, my fist landed on the boy's face. I grabbed his arm--covered in cloth, I noticed with disappointment, and twisted it away from Gio. I slammed my fist against his chest with all my might and sent him flying anew towards the crates. He landed with a resounding sound of wood and bones breaking. He got up, and wipe the blood off his mouth. I sneered.  If it was a game he wanted, then a game he would get. 

The boy moved like the wind and was in front of me in seconds, his hands outstretch and ready to grab my neck. I parried his attack and made the same attempt at his face, which was the only part of him not covered by clothing. He evaded my attack and maneuvered himself behind me. I bent down and swiftly swept his legs from under him. He fell but recovered quickly. I gave him a forceful kick in the chest that sent him flying against the wall. The sound of bones breaking at impact was lovely. I could still feel the hungry tendrils of death circling my body, demanding their share of sustenance. Little by little, I advanced.  

The boy's eyes, where there was nothing but disinterest previously, now held fear. Fear of me. Fear of death. Fear of the unknown. 

They will pay.

The boy tried to get up but failed. His trembling body was trying to cope with the damage it sustained. I tossed the bloodied pipe up with my toes, caught it with my hand, and hurled it at the boy's chest with all my strength, impaling him and nailing his body against the wall. The boy's face contorted in pain and blood flowed freely from his lips. 

They will pay. 

I took one step after another until I was face-to-face with the boy. He was terrified. I could smell his fear--a rancid, putrid stench that he unknowingly emitted as he faced the certainty of death. I took one of his trembling hands and twisted, snapping the bones and ligaments. His face contorted to something unearthly as pain from his broken wrist coursed through his body. I waited a minute to let him breathe a little and did the same thing to his other wrist. I savored his pain-filled face. 

"Reianne." 

Gio's voice was like a bucket of cold water splashing on my consciousness. I felt the hunger receded little by little. My eyes refocused on the boy, whose face was filled with tears. He looked no more than eighteen years of age. 

He was sobbing. He had peed himself because of the fear and pain I caused. Bile threatened to rise from my gut as the realization of what I did come to me in full force. I reeled, as the earlier dizziness from my injuries overcame my body. I thought that I would hit the ground, but strong arms enveloped me and kept me steady. 

"It's alright. We're good." Gio's voice somehow managed to calm my inner turmoil. "Let's get out of here before--"

Bang!

A bullet lodged itself into the boy's chest. Gio and I turned around and were met with five goons--reinforcements for Musa's men, I bet. I couldn't help but groan. 

The men looked at their fallen comrades and cursed. I was not paying particular attention to what they were saying, but I heard promises of making us regret what we did, and making us pay, yada yada. 

"Give us a fucking break!" I said as I grabbed the metal pipe which held the boy's limp body upright.

"Do you think that will work again?" Gio asked in a manner that was too rhetorical for my taste.

"Do we have another choice?" I answered back. He only grunted. 

The goons aimed their guns at us, and I clenched the pipe tight. This will work. It had to.

Several cracks of bullets made me move on instinct. I was confused, however, by the absence of any pressure on my pipe, or an onslaught of bullets at our general direction.

Then, as if sprinkled with magical sand by the Sandman, the men's body fell to the ground one after another. I stared at their body transfixed, specifically at their heads bearing the unmistakable wound of a gunshot. Behind them, two figures emerged. 

"Onee, we made it in time! I was worried!" Quin said, with her arm still pointing forward, the tip of which carried a smoking gun. Beside her was the embodiment of grumpiness, Master Shao, himself. 

Yay, Master is here. Hide!

If you like this story, please don't forget to comment, vote and share, or I won't be responsible to what Master Shao will do to you. So, do it! Maybe, pretty please with a cherry on top? 😊

I retagged this story "Mature"  because of some violence and mental health issues that I have to incorporate in the later schwapters. So please, read with caution.  *bows*

Yours forever,

RF

Join my discord!
https://discord.gg/XDgH7rREPY