Dead Men Walking: 4
"How's the situation on the roof?" Onyx asked as she walked into a dimly lit conference room at the top of the business tower. The question was curt and empty of expectation.
"The target's staying within range because of the lures but damage is minimal," First Lieutenant Vaughn answered as he followed her in. "We miss more than we hit and anything that actually sticks is neutralized against Ho-oh's light screen."
Onyx stepped up to the large rectangular table in the middle of the room. Various weapons, ammunition, and trainer gear lay across it. Onyx bypassed the glistening barrel of a freshly cleaned AK-47 and tucked several items in her pockets and on her belt.
"What did you expect," she dryly exclaimed in reference to the screen. "This is a legendry pokemon's main line of defense, not some tournament circuit field barrier." The trickle of emotion in the Jewel's voice warned Lieutenant Vaughn of her displeasure, a curtesy allotted only to him. She traded an extra weapon's magazine for a purple and white pokeball inside the folds of an unblemished black crystal box. The master ball clicked flawlessly onto her hip.
"Pull everyone off of the roof," Onyx ordered. "I'm going up."
Vaughn obediently shifted out of the way as the Royal Jewel turned for the door. He kept pace with her to avoid the flare of her black jacket. Few knew of the razor blades stitched into the tips. In the hallway, the fluorescent lights flickered. It wasn't the first glitch since entering the business tower. Several alarms had gone off the moment the pokemon lures went live and the battle with Ho-oh began. They had to disarm most of the security features to stop the insistent shrills and eventually cut power all together after something triggered the fire alarm. Flickering lights were to be expected, especially after a pass from the bird above. But there was no shrill, tremor, or flick of flame this time around.
This was caused by something else.
The lights strobed sharply and went out, darkening the entire floor. Lieutenant Vaughn and the Black Jewel stopped midstride. Silence filled the hallway. Several seconds ticked by before the pale white security lights flicked on. Their glow strengthened, the buzz of electricity loud against the stillness. Lieutenant Vaughn quickly turned around and glanced down the long stretch of empty hallway behind them. The dim light weakly pierced the darkness of the windowless corridor. The buzzing faded to background noise and foreboding stillness returned. Lieutenant Vaughn tensed and took a cautious step back towards the conference room. The door to the makeshift armory suddenly slammed shut in a sharp bang beside him. He flinched, snatched the handle, and wiggled to no avail.
Locked.
A quiet chuckle slowly filled the hallway. Its haunting echo froze Lieutenant Vaughn's blood faster than the haunting. He stiffened, not daring to look behind him at its source. Onyx lowered her eyes, the point of her smirk small and piercing like the tip of a syringe. Such tricks may spook her lieutenant, but she thrived in the primordial paradox of fear. Ghosts were nothing more than congregations of energy, easily dispelled by counteracting forces. It was the conjurers behind them that should be feared, or rather, the pokemon trainers that captured those specters. There were few skilled enough to mold a dark pulse into an electromagnetic pulse. A trick of the thief's trade.
Onyx turned around and peered down the far end of the hallway. The security light at its end was completely disabled, leaving nothing but a nightmarish hole where the eye could master the art of paranoia. As a shadow master herself, the Black Jewel knew there was a monster lurking just out of sight.
"You don't have to come out if you don't want to," Onyx exclaimed. "But it won't make a difference."
"I know," the darkness smoothly replied. "You like it dark."
The hallway remained silent even as a long and curvy silhouette materialized into the gray light. Vermillion owed that particular skill to her favorite black cat suit she used for burglary contracts. Body tight, black as night, and perfectly suitable to stalk in, black coated persians would have mistaken the Polisher as one of their own. Onyx immediately recognized its danger. Her frown matched the cold hard stare of her blind eye.
"You working tonight?" the Royal asked.
"I'm afraid so," Vermillion replied just as calmly. A touch of frost seeped out from the darkness around her. Ice crackled and popped along the fluorescent light casing overhead, crawling out along the walls and into the light. Hell often froze over with the presence of the dead. Crooks and Jinx floated into visibility over Vermillion's shoulders. Lieutenant Vaughn put a hand to his waist. Onyx stretched out a palm to stop it, her eyes never once leaving the Polisher. Moving too quickly often invoked the panther's pounce.
"For business or pleasure?" the Jewel meant to clarify.
Vermillion's cold hostility seduced a snarl onto her black lips.
"It's personal."
Lieutenant Vaughn broke into a sweat. He glanced between the two women unsure of exactly what, or who, the Polisher was after, but being coy wasn't in his nature. A step put him in line between the two forces.
"What do you want?" he demanded with another squeeze of his belt.
Vermillion looked right through him, ignoring his feeble attempts at authority. "Going up?" she asked with a glance at the arsenal strapped around Onyx's waist. "I thought people like us were only supposed to go down?"
Onyx, in unusually playful spirits with her feathered prize so close at hand, indulged the Polisher. "So what game is it tonight?" she replied. "Tag? Hide and seek?"
Vermillion twirled Jinx's smoky tendrils in her hand. "I was thinking a little more high-stakes," she explained, "Maybe poker, but it seems someone's already called your bluff."
Vermillion's gaze ran down the length of the Black Jewel's newly acquired scar. Onyx narrowed the slit of her good eye, snubbing out the short life of her good humor in its pinch.
"Unlike some players, I didn't fold in the final round," she remarked. "Sorry, but I don't have time to play around with children."
Onyx turned on her heel and strode for the stairwell leading up to the rooftop access. No elevators from here on out. The door opening to the staircase suddenly slammed shut. The Black Jewel paused long enough to watch a sableye faze out of his shadow sneak and perch on the handle.
"You put a hit out on my B.A." Vermillion snarled from the opposite end of the hall. She had been deceived and slighted by the Jewel, but that's not why her blood boiled.
"Are you mad because I broke one of your toys?" Onyx goaded. She sharply turned to face the Polisher. Her voice pitched in anger. "He was always mine to begin with!"
The sudden burst of possessive vehemence startled Vermillion. Onyx was acting as if John had been something more than a means to an end, like one of her prized artifacts lost to the violence of the Underground while in search of another, rarer piece. Collectable but not valuable. A treasure map no longer needed with the treasure in sight. His loss was nothing more than a weak lament over the empty case in her gallery. Onyx didn't know that John was still alive and Vermillion wasn't about to let her figure it out.
"Only because I brought you to him," Vermillion snapped back, playing the role imposed on her. Although, she didn't have to pretend much at all. That unnerved her more than Onyx's tone. Vermillion slipped a hand down her thigh to the secret pocket stitched within. Well aware of the Polisher's methods of murder, First Lieutenant Vaughn drew a pokeball from his belt. This time, Onyx didn't stop him. She smelt blood in the water. Vermillion had as many openings as a registeel, and somehow, Pharaoh had peeled back her armor. The Black Jewel instinctually pounced upon the weakness with greedy lust.
"A Polisher showing sentiment?" she sneered. "You should have known better than to get attached!"
Vermillion hesitated. Her armor cracked a little further under the irrefutable and infuriating truth. Onyx was compelled to see it split in half.
"Did you think I wouldn't notice?" the Black Jewel continued. "Such a doting sponsor! Three meals a day, medical treatments every morning, training in the P.T. room under your reservation, making him believe he could be a Blood Ace."
Vermillion turned as red as her name but it wasn't enough. Onyx meant to draw blood. Her merciless persecution didn't end with just humiliation and hypocrisy.
"You even begged me to let him use the private quarters I provided for you outside of my gallery, but I'm sure you didn't tell him that. Consider your privileges revoked."
Vermillion roared, pulled out the hidden knife, and threw it across the hallway. Onyx caught it in her broken arm as if it were made of wood and tore it out in a splash of blood.
"Now, there's the devil I know!" she taunted. Sudden rumblings from above, coupled with a brief power surge that almost brought the regular lights back on, indicated a spike in activity on the roof. It brought the Jewel's purpose back to light. Onyx didn't have time to waste on a vendetta when there was a legendary bird to be had. She whirled upon her Lieutenant, cold hard apathy once again demanding swiftly executed perfection.
"Kill her," she said.
"My pleasure," Lieutenant Vaughn answered.
Cold steel filled both of Vermillion's palms. She threw two more knifes at the back of the Royal Jewel's head with as much fury as precision. A set of spiked ivory horns quickly smashed them sideways into the wall. A freshly released pinsir dropped heavily onto the floor. His iridescent wings still stuck out of the bottom of his beetle armor. He chattered, drumming the rows of teeth along the incision of his mouth like piano keys. Crooks and Jinx floated over Vermillion's shoulder to the front. They rolled into and over one another, using each other's central gravity to accelerate every spin. A black dot flickered to life in the center of the two swirling masses.
Jinx's shadow ball grew, igniting into blue flame against the touch of Crook's Will-O-Wisp. The flaming black ball shot forward, screaming with the wails of tormented souls. Pinsir leaned forward and dropped his horns horizontally across the ground so that it passed above him. Lieutenant Vaughn threw himself against the wall, drawing sweat from the projectile's passing. Its light streaked down the hallway, striking the wall in a wave of flaming plasma next to the stairwell entrance. Onyx turned her back to the subsequent explosion. She neither flinched nor acknowledged the concussion of superheated air as it threw her braid and coattails in front of her. The vacuum of light darkened her already black body to sinister proportions.
Cutter still stood in her way.
The sableye hissed from his crouch on the door handle leading to the stairwell, unaware that the Black Jewel had used the light of the explosion to mask the materialization of her own pokemon. The shadows used to conceal the crystal eyed pokemon suddenly turned against him as Dracks, the ariados, leapt out from his hiding place and struck. He clamped onto Cutter, shook a venom drench over the ghost to keep his hold, and threw the wretch off to the side, clearing the door. Onyx strode through the steaming puddle of poison chewing its way through the carpet and ascended the staircase.
Farther down the hallway, Lieutenant Vaughn ordered an advance. Pinsir's brown shell creaked open and two transparent wings hummed to life, lifting the stag beetle off of his feet. He flew forward in a vice grip. Crooks and Jinx were still in the process of separating. They couldn't attack until they were fully reformed, but Luminesce, the sneasel, could. She jumped onto Vermillion's shoulder from behind, launched into the air, and flipped over her party pokemon, landing on top of Pinsir's back. The hard wing casing snapped shut and clipped the beetle's wings instantly. She then kicked off into a backflip that drove the beetle to the floor. One of his horn tips caught the carpet and he flipped.
Luminesce landed gracefully, turning to catch the last glimpses of her enemy's heavy crash. He rolled onto his back, and against the weight of his head, couldn't lift himself right away. The sneasel smugly smiled to herself and jumped onto Pinsir's stomach. The scarlet flags on her tail were already stiff with frozen energy thanks to the two gastlys' previous temperature drop. Cold smoke drifted from her elongated ear upon command. Luminesce combed a hand along it, transferring ice crystals onto her clawed fingers. She hardened them with a kiss of cold breath and an ice shard formed over her hand in the shape of a spear point. It was a wonderful work of art, one that needed to be shared for full effect. Luminesce stabbed Pinsir in the torso, piercing his shell in a crack.
The beetle shrieked in a spit filled rattle. His body wobbled rapidly against the internal struggle of his organs and Luminesce's exploratory claws. The sneasel remained poised, driving her lance to the heart. Sensing the presence of death, Crooks and Jinx wailed in a piercing cry. The emergency lights strobed, masking the ghosts' approach as they suddenly propelled themselves forward with a dark pulse. Lieutenant Vaughn sucked in his breath, knowing it would be stolen from him anyway. Crooks phased through his body, but the otherworldly lick wasn't enough to paralyze, especially for one already stone cold.
Vaughn ripped the handheld Taser from his belt. In one motion, he slashed its crackling pop through Jinx's body, and released another pokemon with his free hand. The ghastly shuddered in distortion against the surge. Its smoky wisps violently dissipated in retreat, leaving nothing behind. Crooks quickly vanished into the otherworldly plane to retrieve his partner. Without guidance, it could take many minutes for a wounded ghost to reform in the physical world, too many in the split second speeds of battle.
Another enemy was already on the field.
A heracross introduced himself with the glistening flash of a harden. Luminesce yanked her hand out of Pinsir's belly, wagged off the juices, and hopped down to the floor. She found the single blue horn short of impressive. She had seen bigger. Two swipes honed her claws for the next round and the sneasel took off in a scarlet flutter. Squashing bugs was one of her favorite hobbies. Heracross tracked her approach better than a laser pointer. Experienced in the techniques of the swift and speedy, his horn shifted and tilted to stay in line with the sharp claw pokemon. Luminesce couldn't shake it, so her party pokemon collided with it.
Cutter jumped into the cup of the smooth armored horn, his ghostly body paled to pastel proportions from Dracks' attack. Heavily poisoned and losing strength fast, he was dead weight to his trainer's cause, but it was still weight none the less. Heracross tipped forward, Cutter rolled out of the cup onto the floor, and Luminesce stepped in. By then, the beetle's momentum reversed. He lurched upwards in a megahorn that catapulted the sharp claw pokemon down the hallway behind him. Lieutenant Vaughn saw her coming but couldn't react fast enough.
A wide smile spread across his throat. He clutched his neck in a choking gurgle and fell to his knees, dead before he even hit the floor. Luminesce landed behind him. She tossed the blood from her claws and twitched an ear against a sudden drop in temperature. Crooks and Jinx reappeared through the left and right walls beside Heracross. He glanced between them, and when their bodies suddenly rimmed in blue wisps of fire, he thrust out both arms to catch them. Ghostly smoke filled his empty hands and both gas pokemon were trapped, but by doing so, the beetle's arms could not protect his body. No horn, no matter how big, could stop the hyper fang that clamped onto the joint of his leg and torso.
Bezel, the rattata, drove his fangs to the bone, twisting and chomping faster than a sewing machine. Ligaments shredded underneath his bite and the joint failed. The mouse quickly scurried away to avoid being trapped under the enemy as he fell. Heracross dropped to the ground, his one leg almost separated from his body. Greenish blood squirted out from the carnage, causing him to slip further to the ground, just enough for Vermillion to leap over. The Polisher cleared the confrontation and sprinted down the hallway after Onyx. She withdrew an immobilized Cutter in the process. It wasn't like an assassin to take the lead and rush headlong into battle so openly. Startled by the act of defiance, Vermillion's three pokemon could only do what was expected of them: win the battle.
It wasn't as easy as they thought.
Crippled, Heracross' Guts ability kicked in. His trainer was dead, but he wasn't, not yet, and he would fight to survive until the very end. He was a First Lieutenant's pokemon after all. The beetle tightened his grip on the ghosts using the meditative energies of a fighting type and slammed them together harder than a pair of cymbals. Their dark energies mashed together and disoriented the ghosts' sense of being. Heracross then ripped them apart again, causing further damage to their unstable forms. They melted out of his hands back into the otherworld to collect themselves. Bezel charged, taunting Heracross into a similar advance and giving the ghosts a chance to catch up to their trainer. The Polisher wasn't acting like herself. She was passionate. Enraged.
Scared.
Vermillion sprinted down the hallway, splashing through blood and poison along the way. Both warmed the soles of her feet in haste. She passed Luminesce. The sneasel turned, only catching a glimpse before the Polisher ascended the stairs. Every second counted. It was a race against time. Vermillion trusted in her pokemon to know when to win and when to run. She wouldn't stop to watch the end of their battles, not when Onyx was probably already plucking feathers from the giant rainbow colored bird on the rooftop. John's heart would be next, ripped straight out of his chest as a sacrifice to the Underground's Black Jewel. Onyx meant to capture the bird but that didn't mean she wouldn't kill it if the battle pulled out of her favor. Vermillion didn't care for Ho-oh, but if it died, John was second in line and his morally attuned compass would shatter at the discovery.
Vermillion had to hurry if she wanted to save them both.
The Polisher would have scoffed if the adrenaline pushing her to maximum speeds wasn't so taxing. She couldn't believe what she was thinking or doing. She was feeling, actually feeling something more than the primal satisfaction of pleasure or the sharp brink of survival. It felt terrible. Sweat clung to the curls of her hair. Her heart pounded with the drums of panic and every nerve in her body tingled with seeds of dread. Such sensitivity heightened every sound and movement. Luckily, to her advantage. Vermillion noticed the three grunts turning down the flight of stairs above her before they spotted her. She reacted instantly, drawing her switchblade and flicking it open so fast that it never caught the light.
The first grunt went down so fast that he was still talking even after the blade slashed across his throat. Blood filled his words, stirring a blank stare from the second in line. He was still processing what had happened to the first by the time Vermillion was upon him. A single well aimed swing defaced him from chin to cheek, and of course, at this point, the third couldn't be left alive to avenge his comrades. This grunt managed to touch his pokebelt before Vermillion struck but he wasn't fast enough to out maneuver a contract killer with the element of surprise. His body clumsily slumped across the landing and slid down a step or two before coming to a stop.
Vermillion stood on the landing the grunts descended from, breathing heavily, blade in hand. Blood steadily dripped from the tip, just shy of a faucet spout. Chin high, the Polisher looked down at the product of her craft. Three dead bodies lay strewn across the stairwell, all dead before they ever realized it. Her bright emerald eyes glowed in the darkness. One had foreign blood painted across it like mascara. Below, the grunts faces, or what was left of them, were wind worn. Their lips were dry and cracked as if they had been in the desert for days. Sunburnt and brittle, they were practically jerky.
The three must have come from the rooftop and a losing battle given their condition. They probably had their orders to retreat. Onyx didn't hide behind her men. She didn't hide at all, and the grunts weren't about to double cross the lady in black, even in the face of a Polisher. They never meant to get in Vermillion's way. Whoops. A shrug dismissed the mistake. Three less men for Onyx to retaliate with when she learned that her First Lieutenant was filleted from ear to ear. Grunts were expendable. Loyal lieutenants were a dime a dozen.
Then again, so were star gazers in a city of sin.
Vermillion clutched tighter onto her blade and quickly ascended the next flight of stairs. She knew she wasn't acting like herself or taking the usual predatory precautions, but there was only half a level to go before she reached the ultimate goal. The Polisher appeared around the last corner, too fast for her reflexes to follow. She never saw the black spaded tail slice out of the shadows until it nicked the steel firehose box and cut across her shoulder instead of her head. The Polisher snarled, spinning into the wall. Shiva, the seviper, launched in a venom drench, her fangs even faster than her tail. Vermillion hit the wall and reflexively lifted her hand, stabbing the steel blade into the roof of the viper's mouth. It stopped the snake in place.
Shiva hissed in pain and fury, her fangs only inches from the Polisher's head. Hot drool dripped from her open jaws. The glistening tip of the knife poked through the viper's nasal cavity, however, not her brain, leaving all form and function intact. Vermillion's arms shook trying to keep the attack at bay. Years of murderous instinct saved her life, but not even a human trained in the art of killing could hold back so much coiled muscle. Shiva continued to press forward with her head, forcing the human underneath to keep her arms raised and expose her tender belly. The seviper's tail coiled into position. This time, she aimed for the Polisher's stomach.
Luminesce jumped in between.
She caught the arrowhead in her claws and grabbed the edges closest to the point to keep it from piercing her chest. The force of the blow slammed her into Vermillion's chest, knocking the wind out of both of them. Shiva recoiled from the awkward off balanced position of her head and tail. Luminesce immediately relinquished her grasp. The spade had cut through the cartilage of her claws down to the quick. Vermillion was unwilling to let the viper go so easily. She kept her grip on the switchblade, even as the snake pulled back, twisting it so that the custom serrated edge at the bottom caught flesh. Shiva lost more than her sense of smell as she pulled away, the quickness of her own movements ensuring that the blade pulled all the way free before she realized what had happened.
The viper coiled backwards in retreat. She shook her head violently and coughed up the blood running down her throat. Vermillion snickered, slung her arm around Luminesce's torso, and pushed off of the wall to stand. The sneasel hung over her arm for a moment before she hopped back to the ground. Vermillion let her go. Cuddling after a kill wasn't their style. Besides, the viper wasn't dead yet. Shiva slinked into the shadows, a place with too many hole to hide in to let her go freely. Vermillion looked down at her pokemon.
"Can you do it?" she asked.
Luminesce looked at the linear cuts in her hands created by the black lance. The durability and strength of her claws, and thus, attacks, were compromised. She quickly coated them in matching ice shards, looked up at Vermillion, and nodded. Freezing smoke drifted from her hands and feathered tail.
Reptiles never did well with the cold.
Luminesce still had an advantage over the snake and she wasn't about to waste it. Sneasel and Polisher took off in opposite directions. Luminesce disappeared into the darkness outside of the emergency lights in pursuit of her prey. Vermillion continued up the stairs to the light. She burst through the door onto the roof and raised a hand against the surge of superheated air that greeted her. Had she been in heels like usual, the hot wind would have knocked her over.
It was too be expected when a pokemon the size of a small house flew by close enough to share its body heat. Onyx, very much like her snake, was waiting for her arrival with Dracks, the ariados, at her feet. The Jewel faced the city and watched Ho-oh circle the tower. Her jacket flapped beside her, coddling her neck and thighs against the cold rainy drizzle. She didn't have to ask to know the fate of her First Lieutenant. The unwanted appearance of a Polisher meant only one thing.
Death.
The Black Jewel found it ironic, especially since the Polisher's motivation spawned from quite the opposite.
"So he's alive then," Onyx mused. "Your precious god."
Water rolled along the edge of her high collar and dripped off of the end. There was no other explanation for the Polisher's change of heart. Her moral compass still had a true north, pointing her down the road of salvation. It was a path Vermillion knew better than to take, but that choice was hers, and infringing upon a Polisher's autonomy was a bond breaker.
"You told me he was dead," Vermillion spat, trying to play off the discovery.
"He will be," Onyx declared, calling the bluff. She kept her eyes on Ho-oh, calculating the distance, height, and speed of the bird's passing. Vermillion stole a glance at the sun god. A dim rainbow tracer glittered behind the bird because of the splash of rain against her light screen. To ride a pokemon was to own it, and Vermillion had promised John that she would watch over his pokemon until his fight was over.
"Until then," she quickly picked up. "I've got a contract to uphold."
A cool sensation soothed Vermillion's skin as Crooks and Jinx materialized from the otherworldly plane over her shoulder. Drawn to the energy signature in the belt around her neck, they always knew where to appear when returning to the physical world and always came ready for a fight. Dracks clicked in a purr like warning. His thorax accents stiffened in battle preparation.
"You can't beat me," Onyx declared, pulling something out from the folds of her black cloak.
"I know," Vermillion answered. An assassin worked best in the shadows. Such bold faced confrontation put them at a disadvantage. "But I can still fuck you up pretty good." Her switch blade glinted in her hand. Crooks and Jinx's ghostly bodies swirled menacingly and Dracks heightened his hiss to a chattering growl. Onyx merely lowered her eyes from the sky. She smiled softly to herself as she cocked the M9 in her hand.
"I know," she admitted.
After all, a Polisher was still a Polisher, and that's why she wasn't going to leave it up to chance. Onyx whirled around. Jinx and Crooks immediately advanced, propelled by a dark pulse to match her speed, but the Black Jewel's cloudy eye saw straight through them. Her jacket was still in mid flare when the shot rang out. The two gastly barely felt the bullet pass through them. They only saw the brass case spin through the air. For all that could not touch them, the same could not be said for the trainer behind them. Vermillion stumbled back. Her gamble, a losing one.
"Cover!" she shouted.
Jinx and Crooks needed no orders. They screamed forward, vanishing into traces of black smoke that harmlessly rolled down Onyx's still extended arm. Their bodies reformed next to Vermillion. Crook's dark and stormy center spread in a shadow ball that formed a cloud of darkness. With a push from Jinx's dark pulse, it spread outward into a swirling vortex that masked their trainer from sight. The mini tornado rose up to the sky before it vanished seconds later. Rain droplets drilled the wispy threads into the gravel. Not a pokemon or Polisher remained. Vanished, like the cloud they created.
Onyx slowly lowered her arm. Dracks stabbed a speared leg into the gravel with a gurgle that expressed his displeasure.
"Let them go," Onyx ordered as she tucked the Berretta back into its holster. "They won't make it far."
Down the stairwell in retreat, Vermillion feared the same.
She fell into the wall beside her, concealed in the safety of shadow one more but finding no comfort in its embrace. Sweat collected on her brow. Her hand trembled as she slowly removed it from her abdomen. Blood stained her hand from the bullet hole in her stomach.
Fuck.
Vermillion covered the wound again, clenched her teeth, and pushed off of the wall. She wobbled down the next flight of stairs, hand firmly grasped on the rail. Stopping wasn't an option. Neither was treating the wound. Onyx, or one of her pokemon, could be following. These few seconds in retreat might just give her the head start she needed to lose the trail. Pain streaked down her side. Vermillion hunched over and her hand, slippery with blood, couldn't hold the added weight. She caught her fall against the rail, smearing red along the wall from her wounded shoulder. The Polisher forced disciplined silence onto her grimace.
Who was she kidding? Any novice hunter could track this blood trail. Vermillion struggled onto her elbow, unable to straighten out of her hunch, and took the next series of steps one by one, pulling herself along the rail with her free arm. Jinx and crooks appeared in the darkness, drawn to the collar around their trainer's neck. With one look, they vanished again. This time, in search of their comrades. They needed help.
Because their trainer was dying.
Vermillion paused at the top of the next flight of stairs, panting heavily. Her breathing a traitor to her trade. The ghosts' departure automatically warmed her chilling body, giving her breath for the next descent.
She was an idiot. What the hell was she thinking taking on Onyx face to face? Apparently, nothing at all. What was she trying to prove up on that roof? That she was strong enough to stand equal with a Jewel? Please, she could slaughter any of them in their sleep given the proper amount of preparation. Retaliation was the real bitch.
Vermillion clutched the wound a little tighter. Every movement etched the metal deeper and deeper into her flesh. Keeping her hand in one place against the slickening bodysuit became difficult. She descended another flight of stairs, passing the level she battled Vaughn in. There was no way she'd be able to move around the carnage to get to the elevator. The rooftop only had stairwell access from the topmost floor. To get to the elevator, she'd have to go down yet another flight of stairs. The Polisher cringed. A smear of blood followed her. It traced back to her words with the enemy.
Was she really here because of a contract? Hardly. Most of the men in this city couldn't color within the lines let along sign their name on the dotted line, especially that shit faced wannabe brawler, John. Was it love then? Vermillion would have scoffed if she had the breath for it. She wasn't foolish enough to believe in such things anymore. Her distaste for the subject fueled her last few steps onto the landing, but the zeal quickly slipped away from her like the color in her face. She stumbled through the door leading to the next level elevator lobby. One step for balance and another for direction. Such simple tasks, yet more than the Polisher could take.
She had come impossibly far already.
Vermillion's legs lost their strength. She slumped into the closest wall, turned her back to it, and slowly slid down to the floor. One leg kicked out along the tile. The other buckled over it. Too weak to remove it, Vermillion focused on the gushing injury and pressed both hands against it. A shudder raked her gasp at the touch. Both eyes closed as if to hide from the pain. Jinx and Crooks materialized through the wall of the stairwell, guiding Luminesce the rest of the way. The sneasel limped into the lobby behind them, also clutching her side. Blood stained half of her face, forcing one eye shut. Relief softened her pained expression, the search for her trainer now over. Vermillion felt the cooling sensation of their arrival. Although grateful, their chill only worsened the growing ache in her body.
At least, the blood between her fingers was still warm.
With her pokemon in range, the Polisher raised a hand to her neck. Her breathing was slow and heavy now. Darkness curled her vision. It took several strokes of her weak fingers before she activated the automatic party withdrawal and all three pokemon de-energized, one short of a full party. Bezel was still too far to participate. Was he even still alive? She'd soon find out. Vermillion closed her eyes, trying to take several slow meditative breaths to calm herself, but they only aggravated her already strained muscles. She gave up on the technique as quickly as she started. Unable to move, she could only reflect on the choices that led her to this point.
"What do you want?"
That was the question Lieutenant Vaughn had asked her in the hallway. Vermillion looked down at her darkening abdomen. It was the question that put her waist deep in her own blood. The Polisher's lip twitched in an agonized snarl. At first, she couldn't come up with an answer. Right now, she only wanted painkillers and a few dozen staples. But that was a shallow answer to a deep and murky question filled with sea monsters and bad memories.
Vermillion closed her eyes in another ripple of pain that put tears to her skin. She opened them again, huffing weak breaths, and looked up at the ceiling, trying to see the sky beyond.
There was only darkness.
The Polisher accepted it. It was all she ever knew. She cursed John and his promise of a bright and shining afterlife. She cursed the stars and all that gazed at them.
But most of all, she cursed herself for creating a god powerful enough to shake even her wicked faith.
