Her hands were soapy from washing the dishes on that warm summer day
on Venus. She hummed, but she knew not which song emanated from her throat.
She smiled at the iridescent bubbles floating on the surface of the water
like drifting islands she may have seen once in a dream. She glanced out
the open window and looked skyward at the planet's own floating masses. She
took a deep breath and closed her eyes, relishing in the cool breeze that
wafted in.
She threw herself to the floor as the kitchen filled with ricocheting bullets. She dared not move as the unnatural breeze of the flying metal disturbed the room. All around her, the peaceful sounds of summer were only a memory. The steady violent noise of bullets came like a sudden rainstorm, but as she looked to her side she saw the sunlight of midday and was thrown back into the reality of the situation.
She crawled forward on her stomach away from the mayhem. She came to rest in the far corner of the small kitchen. The noise cut off abruptly and she winced as her ears rang. She waited for a small second and reached her hand above her onto the counter. She found one of her larger knives and stood herself up. She had never fought anyone before, save her brother. Her instincts told her to arm herself, so she did. She had no use for a gun, why would she? Her father may have one stored in the bedroom, but it was too far off.
She heard footsteps approaching from the front door. She raised her knife and would have felt self-conscious if she wasn't paralyzed by fear. She heard the door swing open and a few quiet footsteps. Her heart was pounding in her ears. She would trade her prior situation for her current if given the chance.
She held her breath as a man strode into the room. He was dressed in simple grey with his head downcast. The light streaming in from the lone window did not seem to reach him. She sensed a darkness all about him that even sunlight couldn't penetrate. She tightened her grip on the knife as the demon stepped closer. He was mere inches from the knife's point and ignored it. He looked into her eyes and held out his hand.
"Drop it," he simply said. She began to breathe again. Her mind was content on keeping her only weapon, but her hand visibly shook. He held her gaze and she suddenly felt very small, like a mouse under a cat's paw. The knife clattered on the tile floor.
He smiled as her eyes welled with tears. As her arm descended down to her side, he snatched it and pinned it to the wall behind. She was shocked by this inhuman display of speed and gasped as she saw his sword at her throat. He tilted her head against the wall with the point of his sword.
"Sing." he said. He wasn't demanding, but she complied regardless. He must have overheard her humming. She caught her breath as best as she could and began the first song that came to mind. The first notes were weary and her voice cracked and faded. She swallowed, closed her eyes, and began again. Her voice had regained some of its quality, but she still sounded small. She usually sang like a bird, but now sang like that damned mouse. She sang for the cat.
She opened her eyes again and looked to the human for mercy. Tears were readily streaming down her cheeks. He smiled again and her heart stopped. She subsequently stopped singing. His grin broadened as he forced a slight weight upon his sword. Her eyes widened and she fell to the floor, blood was trickling from her neck. She tried to cry out in pain, but her vocal chords were now gone. She looked up at the retreating shadow as it swept silently out. The pounding returned to her ears as she pulled herself up. She looked at her hands, still wet with dishwater, and wondered if she would ever happily look upon the floating islands again.
She threw herself to the floor as the kitchen filled with ricocheting bullets. She dared not move as the unnatural breeze of the flying metal disturbed the room. All around her, the peaceful sounds of summer were only a memory. The steady violent noise of bullets came like a sudden rainstorm, but as she looked to her side she saw the sunlight of midday and was thrown back into the reality of the situation.
She crawled forward on her stomach away from the mayhem. She came to rest in the far corner of the small kitchen. The noise cut off abruptly and she winced as her ears rang. She waited for a small second and reached her hand above her onto the counter. She found one of her larger knives and stood herself up. She had never fought anyone before, save her brother. Her instincts told her to arm herself, so she did. She had no use for a gun, why would she? Her father may have one stored in the bedroom, but it was too far off.
She heard footsteps approaching from the front door. She raised her knife and would have felt self-conscious if she wasn't paralyzed by fear. She heard the door swing open and a few quiet footsteps. Her heart was pounding in her ears. She would trade her prior situation for her current if given the chance.
She held her breath as a man strode into the room. He was dressed in simple grey with his head downcast. The light streaming in from the lone window did not seem to reach him. She sensed a darkness all about him that even sunlight couldn't penetrate. She tightened her grip on the knife as the demon stepped closer. He was mere inches from the knife's point and ignored it. He looked into her eyes and held out his hand.
"Drop it," he simply said. She began to breathe again. Her mind was content on keeping her only weapon, but her hand visibly shook. He held her gaze and she suddenly felt very small, like a mouse under a cat's paw. The knife clattered on the tile floor.
He smiled as her eyes welled with tears. As her arm descended down to her side, he snatched it and pinned it to the wall behind. She was shocked by this inhuman display of speed and gasped as she saw his sword at her throat. He tilted her head against the wall with the point of his sword.
"Sing." he said. He wasn't demanding, but she complied regardless. He must have overheard her humming. She caught her breath as best as she could and began the first song that came to mind. The first notes were weary and her voice cracked and faded. She swallowed, closed her eyes, and began again. Her voice had regained some of its quality, but she still sounded small. She usually sang like a bird, but now sang like that damned mouse. She sang for the cat.
She opened her eyes again and looked to the human for mercy. Tears were readily streaming down her cheeks. He smiled again and her heart stopped. She subsequently stopped singing. His grin broadened as he forced a slight weight upon his sword. Her eyes widened and she fell to the floor, blood was trickling from her neck. She tried to cry out in pain, but her vocal chords were now gone. She looked up at the retreating shadow as it swept silently out. The pounding returned to her ears as she pulled herself up. She looked at her hands, still wet with dishwater, and wondered if she would ever happily look upon the floating islands again.