I stared into the blackness of the train window, staring at the silhouette of the mundane world outside and the reflection of mundane lives going on behind me. A business man in an expensive suit, trying to concentrate on his word document. Two young children, opposite the man, sat screaming and arguing over a DS game.
I decided long ago I would never have kids. Most people end up giving them away or abandoning them. It makes me wonder what the point of it is. Just then, the assumed mother of the children thwacked the older one on the arm.
"Ow!" he wailed.
"Shut up then!" she hissed at him. "You're embarrassing me." I smiled a little and turned back to the blackness of what I assume was a New York tunnel. I looked at my watch. It read 3:45am; though, not that looking at my watch would be of any help; I have yet to change it to New York time.
"Attention all passengers: next stop 57th street Manhattan. That's 57th street Manhattan" announced the speaker above my head. I stretched my arms above my head, arched my back and shook my head to wake myself up. I then proceeded to stand up to get my bag out of the holder above.
Once off the platform, I took the subway stairs two at a time, desperate to breathe some fresh air. The train was stuffy and hot, though as I reached the surface, the smell wasn't much better; air pollution from the busy New York streets and the smell of hotdogs filled my nose, causing me to grimace. Not much better than London, if I was being honest.
I looked along the street. It was narrow, with a jungle of concrete buildings towering over it like trees, and a large green area in the distance. Although here, in America, they call it a park, my definition of a park includes swings and a climbing frame. The type of place children love to play. The type of place I avoid. I looked at my watch again. 4:00am; New York is five hours behind London so that makes it 11:00pm. Brilliant. Time to get the map out.
Well, I say map; it's the most pathetic excuse for a map I've ever seen. Charlotte drew it for me before I left. I twisted and I turned the map every possible way. I didn't care how touristy I looked; I didn't have a clue where I was. Charlotte said the New York Institute was on 7th Avenue, off 57th street. Like I knew what that meant, I thought bitterly.
Once I had pinpointed my location, I turned around and began walking. The first thing I passed was what looked like a rundown club. The neon sign above the door read 'Pandemonium'. Music could be heard from the street, as it thumped through the wall. The Institute had to be around here somewhere. I turned down an alley, sure I was following the right path, only to end up at a dead end. I sighed and turned again, walking back towards the club. This is ridiculous. Where's a girls sense of direction when she needs it?
I wandered down the street, clinging on to my rucksack with one hand, and holding the map in the other. I was trying quite hard to not look lost but I started to get the feeling that I should just stop and ask for directions. I hated asking for help. I looked around for options. There was the queue of drunken teenagers outside the club, a couple of bouncers the size of doorways guarding the entrance and a guy peeing into a bush. My options weren't looking very promising. I began to think that the bouncers were my best choice when something caught my eye. The glow of a seraph blade- I'd recognise it anywhere.
I watched as four dark figures slid past the bouncers into the club. As much as I didn't want to follow them into whatever fight they were about to get into, I definitely wanted a hot shower and a warm bed. The only place that had that and would take me is the Institute. Seeing as I didn't know where that was, this was my best option. I went into the alley down the side of the club and quickly drew an Unseen rune on my forearm with my stele. I then armed myself with the entire weapons contents of my bag. This consisted of three seraph blades, and a dagger I already had on the inside of my boot. I ditched my bag behind the dumpster and entered through the back door of the club. The heat hit me like a brick wall, the music numbing my ear drums it was so loud. I centred myself, and scanned the room. There were three exits, including the one I came through, and four shadow hunters (five including myself). They were spread around the room, looking with narrowed eyes through the fog and laser lights for someone, or something.
I followed their eyes to the crowd. It was full of mundanes. Drunken mundanes. Laughing and dancing mundanes. Mundanes grinding up against each other with lust filled eyes. Of course they couldn't see me, or any other shadowhunter in the room for that matter. We were hidden behind the glamour. Suddenly a boy caught my eye. He looked highly out of place. He was neither shadowhunter nor mundane. He was something else entirely. He was huge, with broad shoulders and about 7ft tall. I looked at his hands as his fists unclenched and his fingernails grew claws. My eyes widened in disbelief. Partly because I noticed was the only shadow hunter in the room to realise that he wasn't a mundie, and also because he was heading straight for curvy brunette girl in the corner.
What were these idiots doing? Couldn't they see him? The demon stopped a couple feet away from the brunette girl, standing legs apart, staring at her. He was going to go for her at any minute, I knew that, and I seemed to be the only one of us noticing that all this was happening. He was raising his claws, and I was already running for him. I ran past him and with a clean slice I took his hand with me. He fell to his knees in agony, cradling his now stubbed arm. He looked around confused, then looked up at me. I was standing in front of him, blade dripping with his black blood.
"Shadowhunter," he hissed, malice in his voice. I couldn't help but give a little half smile.
"Demon," I replied mockingly, as if we were old enemies.
He lunged for me; I spun out the way, blade outward, and sliced open his chest. This just made him more pissed off it seemed, as this time he came running right at me with full force. I did the same, but with a second to spare before impact, I slid to the floor and skidded between his legs, slicing yet another cut into his thick skin. He dropped to his knees, collapsing to the floor with a thud, before laying still in a pool of black blood. He'd be back in his own dimension in no time. I turned my back on him, and went to find one of the useless shadow hunters I followed into the club.
I looked around the room but saw no one. Maybe they ran off scared. Aw bless 'em, never fought a demon before. Just then, there was a high pitch wail behind me and a blade above my head, not aiming for me, but protecting me from the demon I thought I killed. I lifted my head to see who was holding the blade and made eye contact with liquid gold. A beautiful boy around 17 with thick golden curly hair, high cheek bones, a strong jaw line and gold eyes framed by thick eyelashes. I realised I should properly do something instead of just standing and staring at him.
I reached for my other seraph blade and turned, but the hand that I regrettably left attached to the demon's other arm, swung for me. A piercing pain shot across my right shoulder, and continued down across my collar bone to the middle of my chest. I fought back despite the pain; I made eye contact with the boy who was standing over me. He nodded and we both lunged. The boy kicked the demon back, and it lost it's balance. My vision was blurred but I let lose all my fury and my blade as it opened its mouth to hiss at the boy. I plunged my seraph deep into the demon's chest, where someone would normally have a heart, and it fell to the ground, convulsing in fits before turning to ash, and returning back to its dimension.
I too fell to the floor. The loss of blood was obviously more than my body could take and the pain was so immense I couldn't focus on anything else. As I was fading, I looked up and the last thing I saw was gold.