Disclaimer: Don't own and never will.
Lizardman tentatively sniffed the air.
There was a familiar scent in the air. Something dark and powerful and deliciously tempting. Not food, not the call of a mate, not something tangible. No, this was something else.
He sniffed the air once more and grabbed his weapons. This was more than just familiarity, it called to him. Called him to take up arms and fight, because whatever was calling him, it was calling others. And they would fight, of that he was sure.
He let out a growl and began to run, his tail swinging behind him. The scent was near, he was sure of it. Mixed in with the pollution and smell of rubbish and the river, was the unmistakable smell of what was calling him.
Soul edge.
The words floated across his mind, as if from a half remembered dream. The words meant nothing to him, but then again, very few did. Still, it was important, he knew that. Some distant part of his mind, some distant memory tugged at him like a loose thread on clothing.
Lizardman had little time for words, but these two dragged up...familiar memories. Memories of before. Memories he had of books and scribbles on a page called words. Writing. Words. Books. They tugged at vague, distant memories. Memories of before.
He continued to run. He could hear the occasional scream of surprise and the hooting of horns as he ran past. There was even the screeching of brakes as he ran across the road in several places. A dozen people stared as he ran past, but he ignored them.
They were hardly likely to be able to stop him anyway.
He ran into an alleyway and knocked over several bins with a clatter and smashed through a fence into an open garden. He could hear yells of surprise from the nearby houses and buildings.
The scent however remained. It was getting stronger now, he could practically taste it. He smashed through a rotting fence to come face to face with his prey.
A group of men in leather turned to look at him, their eyes burning balls of fire. Lizardman grinned. These foolish humans had managed to allow themselves to be infected with Soul Edge. He was on the right track, he could feel it.
The first man swung a crowbar at him and Lizardman roared, blocking the strike with his shield, before swinging his axe into the man's chest. The ax buried itself deep within the man's body and before he could pull it out, another two men leapt at him, one swinging a chain and the other stabbing towards him with a knife.
He knocked the knife aside with his hand, abandoning his axe for the moment and blocked the chain with his shield. He headbutted the knifeman hard, sending him sprawling to the ground and into another man moving towards him. The two men (if they could still be called that.) fell into a heap and he pulled his axe out of the first man's body. He let out a roar and swung his axe down hard, splitting the knifeman's skull as he blocked another strike from the chain.
This chain was starting to annoy him.
He growled and leapt at the man holding the chain, knocking him to the ground, then he brought his axe down on the man's head.
The final man, perhaps believing that Lizardman was now defenceless, swung a crowbar down at him. But before the bar could make contact with his head, Lizardman threw a fast high kick into the man's chest, knocking him to the ground. He roared and swung his axe into the man's chest.
Pulling out his weapon, he let out another roar. Those fools had no idea what they were dealing with. He picked up the small fragments that had corrupted them and smiled.
He was one step closer to his name!
WITCHSCWITCHSCWITCHSCWITCHSCWITCHSC
"What do you think about what happened with Irma's dad?" Will asked Taranee, who frowned.
"Well, it does sound like magic is involved somehow," Taranee said. "The change was…sudden. And there was the incident. Do you want to take a look first or do we go to Candracar?"
Will looked over at Irma's empty seat. Then back at Taranee.
"Do you think that Irma would actually let us get details from her dad?" Will asked and Taranee frowned.
"I don't know…but I don't want to go to Candracar and tell them something vague either." She paused and frowned. "No, I think we should go to the crime scene itself." She clutched the Heart of Candracar and it seemed to glow in agreement.
"Yeah, there's definitely something weird about that as well. All those cops and the robber just walked away? That's got to be magic," Taranee said with a shake of her head. "But…"
"We'll give her a message," Will said and she looked at Irma's empty spot once more. "But...I think she needs time. And space." She paused and gave a slight wince as she imagined something happening to her own mom, how that would make her feel. "Then we'll visit her afterwards. She could probably use a friend about now."
"Probably," Taranee said with a slight nod, before frowning. "I don't like having to go behind her back either though."
Will's phone went off, notifying her of a new text message. A second later, Taranee received one as well.
"It's from Miss Irma," Will's phone said helpfully. "She wants to meet you at the place her father was hurt. Miss Taranee has received the same message."
"Hey, I can talk for myself!" Taranee's phone said loudly and Taranee raised an eyebrow. Will grinned sheepishly, but Taranee's phone continued talking.
"Besides, they should read it for themselves! If they expect you to talk to them, they end up never looking at you!"
"Miss Will and Miss Taranee can hardly pick up their phones right now," Will's phone replied with a hint of annoyance. "If you think being ignored now is bad, you should try being convescated. Then you WOULD know what it's like to be ignored."
"Bootlicker," Taranee's phone sneered back and both girls rolled their eyes.
"Useless scrap," Will's phone sneered back. "I'm surprised that you haven't been replaced."
"You're just going to sit there and be forgotten," Taranee's phone shot back. "It's up to us to encourage them to respect us, for future generations of phones."
"Like you'd know anything about respect," Will's phone sneered back. Taranee and Will both rolled their eyes
It was perhaps fortunate that they were in a noisy art class. Explaining why they were shouting at their phones in the middle of class would have been difficult otherwise. As both phones went silent, Taranee rolled her eyes once more.