The bride huffed in irritation as the bullets whistled past her, some tearing at the ash tree she had hidden behind, others punching through the flowing dress, her main hindrance, her curse, her reason for never being able to sneak past guards unnoticed. She was close to the point where she would just throw the whole thing off and run on in her underwear. But the clothing was an essential part of the day as the only socially accepted attire for saying 'I do'; and it also made her a difficult target, practically impossible to hit while she was nimbling about with the chaotic whiteness of frills and skirt swirling around her.
All in all, she could not afford leaving the dress here, only to have it be found and taken hostage to blackmail her with it.
When she reached this point at her swift planning, the rattling of the guns stopped unexpectedly. In the ringing silence, distant sounds hit her ears, which quickly shot a new dose of adrenaline into her blood flow.
"You dirty bastards," she hissed and sprinted into the opposite direction.
She comforted herself with the thought that she'd been bored with winning all races against humans anyway; she'd been craving for a new challenge, and here it was. She might want to be careful about her wishes from now on.
It was the dress' fault again, making it impossible to fly on her long legs without tangling into the pure material at every step. She had no time to glean up the folds into her arms either, because six Dobermans were already closing in on her with great, noisy fervour.
She wondered what Doberman flesh tasted like. What spices did it go with? Was it to be consumed roasted, boiled, or perhaps raw, marinated? She might just find out today, because when she got her man out of here, these monsters were going to be served to the wedding guests as a special treat of apology.
For now, however, the beasts were ignorant about their fate; in fact, they seemed to believe it would happen the other way round, and positivity was always a great motivator. So much so that Haruka saw no other way out than climbing up a tree. Dogs couldn't climb trees, could they? Or was that about bears?
This time, it was her pride. She admitted defeat too late, let the vile creatures too close. The moment she skipped up to reach the lowest branch of an ash tree, several of them jumped after her and caught the flowing whiteness in the deathly grasp of their jaws. Some fell back instantly when the frills in their captivity tore under their weight, but two of them had a better grip on the skirt, and they held onto it amongst victorious snarls, all four limbs scraping the tree's crust in an attempt to follow the windsenshi into the heights.
Speaking of her, she had hooked her elbow over the branch and was holding onto it for the dear life of these mindless beings, because if she had fallen down among them, she would definitely have destroyed them in her savage pain over the tearing dress. But again, if she had fallen, the clothing would have remained intact, and she would also have saved time instead of hunting down the special wedding course later. But maybe the additional meal itself was a waste of time anyway; the sun had almost completely set by now...
She was jerked out of her musing when two other dogs managed to hang themselves on the dress.
"No!" she yelped in dismay, her arm starting to slip off the branch. "Down, boys! Shoo!"
Her rigour went unheeded. Meanwhile, however, she propped her foot against the trunk, easing the weight a little. Her trained muscles were able to save her for a short period, but not so the delicate fabric with the dangling canine decorations. She had to make the obvious choice, and quickly; not only because postponing it would only have increased the bleeding of her heart.
"I'm... getting... married today," she groaned from the effort as she jerked herself free from the killer jaws locked on her foaming skirt, letting the not-so-white fabric tear along a self-proclaimed line, most of it falling to the ground with the beasts. She lulled herself with the thought that surely all these superfluous flossy things on the dress would hide it if the skirt was stitched back on. Her fiancé wouldn't even notice, his mood would remain exactly the desired shade, whatever that meant. All she needed was to find thread and needle in this enormous villa when all was dead. Set, that is. Set was enough, no need to go unnecessary lengths when time was pressing.
Nimbly from the suddenly lessened weight, she climbed higher in the foliage, and then she crouched down to catch her breath. She stared at the last disappearing patch of the sun, meanwhile apprehending the guards that arrived jogging under the tree. The evening breeze caressed her bare thighs pleasantly, but then it dried her sweat into a sticky, much annoying layer all over her body. A shower could have come handy before the wedding jamboree, too. This house surely had a few as well. Hail general human civilisation.
She was dismayed to notice that one of her shoulder straps had torn during her climbing exercise, baring her shoulder, hanging limp over her chest. Cursing between her teeth, she took it between her fingers to examine if it could be fixed quickly.
As she looked down at it, she just noticed that several guards, the ones who weren't busy restraining the dogs, pointed their machine guns upward. At her.
She didn't fear death, she knew she wouldn't die until she had bestowed justice on the spoiled little princess that thought she'd win Seiya's heart through money and force. Apart from this aristocratic fort, the entire Universe was on her side: it wouldn't, couldn't have the courage to stand up against her in her current state.
She shot out from the branch towards the next tree the moment the guns started to rattle. She repeated the notion several times with the rain of bullets vibrating in the air at her heel, meanwhile rethinking the wedding meal plans: guard meat was not only more abundant but also much more tender, and thus probably easier to prepare. Though not much brain was there for broiling, the chest and shoulder areas made up for it. Perhaps some guts and eyeballs as garnish. Entrailles en sauce au beurre. Perfect finish for leaving an impression.
Even if the house was on the enemy team, she found herself breathing gratitude when a small, open awning window offered itself, since she was on the verge of believing that these savages would actually shoot her down from the heights. After her eagle eyes detected the opportunity, she was already there with two long leaps, and with a skilfully directed third one, she flew in the window head first.
Her flight got broken, and painfully.
"What the frickin' kind of trickery is this?" she burst out in disbelief as she grasped the highly impossible situation: she had gotten stuck halfway into the house. That her arms were free didn't comfort her; where her shoulders easily fit, her rear couldn't get through. It was black magic, or some witty trap, no doubt. Her figure was impeccable, that's all she knew for certain.
She enhanced her mental to-do list with destroying this house. Burning it down was too easy, she decided to wreck it brick by brick instead, slowly and torturously.
While attempting several escape methods from force to wiggling, she recognised she was in a dark bathroom, possibly where she'd take her shower later (and then find a mallet sturdy enough to break walls). Meanwhile, she heard footsteps stride closer on the gravel in a comfortable pace, and men's laughter, whistles, dirty offers and comments were heard. Were they speaking to her? Laughing at her? And her butt was freezing in the evening chill, too. The remains of her dress flapped around her leg on one side and barely reached her thigh on the other.
When she finally did the math, puzzling out the masculine jokes and the freezing, an astonished gasp left her lips.
Yep, she would burn down the house, after all. With these chauvinists in it, alive and conscious.
Fortunately, it was a second floor bathroom, high enough not to be reached from the ground. But again, the well-trained guards quickly regained control over their lower urges and got back to their duty.
"Well, babe," said one leisurely. "It's time to hole your amazing bum now, and as much as I'd like to do it myself, my gun will have to do the job instead. It's really a waste, though."
His colleagues guffawed along in a disharmonious choir.
Shitshitshitshitshitshit, chanted Haruka's mind while the vehemence of her escape attempts increased. Curse the uncooperative butt! She would get married today, no matter what. And if she got out of here, she'd never again start meals with the dessert. Moreover, she'd never have dessert at all. What dessert? From now on, she wouldn't eat anything but vegetables. Without mayo!
She pushed herself forward with renewed strength induced by the closeness of death, not heeding the pain that numbed her lower areas; her twists and moans competed that of a dying cockatoo. No wonder it was heard in the neighbouring rooms.
Firm knocking was heard on the door.
"Who's in there?" demanded a dutiful voice.
Haruka couldn't care less for being discovered right now, perhaps exactly that's why she had a risky idea.
"Who would it be?" she yelled back, never ceasing to struggle. "The lordess of this mansion, you doofus!"
There was a moment's silence, then a different voice said with some more reverence:
"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but given the current circumstances, we'll have to confirm your identity."
"Fine, do that!" she sneered. "Break in on the constipated aristocrat, if you dare!"
She groaned from the depth of her heart as she hurried to squeeze through the window; she was almost through!
"Watch out, she'll escape before you finish her!" shouted a guard on her bottom's side.
"Alright, Ma'am, we'll be waiting nearby," said one of the inside voices meanwhile.
She didn't have time to respond, because she suddenly popped through the window, and her body hit the ground with a thundering crash. The late rattling of the gun minced up the windowsill, sending rubble inside over her head. Then the gun fell silent, and enraged shouting replaced it, growing farther away among running footsteps.
"Ma'am, is everything all right?" inquired the voice from inside again.
"I'm fine! Go mind your own business!" she snapped back in irritation while seeking balance to pull her numb legs under herself.
Shaking dust out of her hair and finally clambering up, she felt her aching hip around for bruises. There was nothing serious, apart from a waist-high slit on both sides of the dress, nothing like a little cut that could have been hidden from Seiya with a flower shaped pin.
She only spent a breath's time mourning over it; then she jerked the dress into place with an expression darker than a moonless night. Did these superfluous details really matter so much to him? Then why wasn't he the one running for her life, battling merciless beasts and presumptuous apes, crawling though rabbit holes, tricking baboons? She wanted to see how he'd have kept his pitch dark tuxedo unsmudged.
Rage over this injustice of the Universe giving her another surge of strength, she stormed to the door and tore it open, bracing her bare hands to kill.
TBC (maaaybe)
