Author's Notes Rant: EVIL BEINGS! NO NEW REVIEWS! :p However, I WILL PREVAIL! I WILL WRITE! YES I WILL! AND DAMN THEY'LL GET BETTER THAN BEFORE! MWA HA!
Note, I was just ranting my apparent frustration at having no reviews or readers -_- sigh, sadness. Please read and review, okay? I put A LOT of WORK into THIS Chapter, I swear it!
The smell of pork lard swirled in the air, paused to give Xan the feeling of having a nice oily strait jacket about him, before swirling about some more and flitting off somewhere else. The soft chatter of the patrons in the restuarant melded together into a clamour that was nothing shot of melodious. Most of the chatter was in Mandarin, Cantonese, Hokkien, Teochew and a variety of other dialects, with a miscellany of English, German, and sometimes French, that punctuated like little notes.
Xan stood near the counter, looking in quiet wide-eyed curiousity at the inside of the Chinese restuarant. He was waiting for his take-away order to be finished, and he entertained himself with examining the slightly crowded resturant. Brown wood tables with red tablecloths draped over, smooth and cushioned chairs for customers. Some of the foreigners were eating steamboats, while the Chinese were majority just eating some rice or noodles and al carte dishes, not having the same feel of novelty of the steamboats as the foreigners did.
It was about 7:45 pm, the last order was given, but the customers were happy to sit and talk away till it was closing time at 8:00 pm. Xan was not there to eat though, actually, he was just taking some take-away dinner for himself and Kris. The food her was good and fairly inexpensive, but the most important thing was that they had vegetarian dishes too.
For reasons that Xan could not really understand, Kris insisted on eating vegetarian. Not that it was extremous, she still drank milk (on occasion, she wasn't a picky eater), eat eggs and stuff like that, but she refused to eat meat as a whole. Xan did try to worm the reason out of her before, but all she said was she had rather not eat meat as it was 'a potential danger to my health' as she said. Xan resigned it to the fact when Kris had grudging agreed to eat some steak he cooked once, and she hacked up something furious. Xan was rather reluctant to admit his own, um, particularly lacking culinary skill, but Kris had sworn off meat after that.
She was nice, she said it wasn't his cooking, it tasted fine, but she just couldn't take it. Xan was a bit touched that she tried to dissuade him from blaming himself, it was...sweet, if he ventured to ever say that in her presence. A quick slash or bite was always looming for just such an instance.
Nonetheless, he was willing to get what she wanted, as well as to never ever cook again, as long as he could get his own fare easily enough, which the Chinese restuarant graciously provided. Come in the last half-hour, get the left over and cold stuff, get a discount. Great bargain!
Xan started to tap his toes nonchalantly, leaning against the counter. He liked the smells and sights all, but if that take-away didn't hurry up a bit, his blue denim jacket was going to get a permaneat water-proof coating.
"Oh! Sorry, please, just wait a little longer!" said the young waitress apologetically as she rushed about giving bills, taking payments and clearing tables. She was the only one working in the restuarant, it seemed, and she was extremely flustered scooting about in a tight cheongsam.
Suddenly, she stopped by at a table that was placed some distance away from the main hubbub. A lone man sat there, Chinese and a youthful 30 by his features, sporting a pair of round thin-rimmed glasses, and a long ponytail that reached down to the middle of his back. He was dressed in a plain white suit, with thick brown trimmings at the edge. It was oriental in style, with large gold buckles in the front in orderly rows and columns, that seemed to pin part of the shirt to the other in a fold. Two black bands with the Chinese character for 'Determination' and the character for 'Tiger', were tightly bound on the man's right and left wrist respectively. A brown cloth belt was tied around his waist, followed by a pair of matching white pants. All this gave him the look of a well-learned scholar in feudal China, coupled this with the stately yet gentile manner he was drinking his tea from a small Chinese cup set in his hands, and the illusion was complete.
Amiably setting down the cup, he raised his hands once more to read a paper-bound Chinese book peacefully, sometimes giving a disapproving glance at overly rowdy patrons.
The waitress arrived at this part of old China, the man looked up calmly, when the young women snapped at him, "Long! Ever thought of helping me a bit?"
The man, Long, seemed to mentally consider it for a while, keeping a steady but non-threatening gaze on the woman, before replying, "To each his own, Lin Lei," and picking up his tea once more and sipping it quietly with closed eyes. Which was just as well, as Lin Lei shot him an angry glance, before huffing back to work.
Xan watched this with amusement from his corner, before letting his mind wonder again.
A high-pitched shriek shattered his wandering thoughts and brought him back frantically looking for the source of the scream.
"Come on now, just a little kiss for a big tip, whaddya say?" the oafish man leered with a greasier air than the one already present. He had grabbed Lin Lei around the waist, his fat lips close to her disgusted face.
"GET AWAY FROM ME YOU BASTARD!" she screamed, striking a fist powered by years of hard menial work straight across his face.
"YARGH!" the man's head rolled back, his side throbbing from the punch. But the punch was not enough to push him away, and he tightened his grip into a deadly one.
"YOU LITTLE BITCH!" the bull of man roared, raising a fat clenched fist.
The rest of the patrons only stared with guilty complacency, refusing to go beyond the side lines, unwilling to help or even consider helping the distressed woman, with the helpless air of a worthless herd of sheep staring at a wolf devouring one of their number.
Xan was not one of those sheeps though, maybe you could call him the sheep dog. He immediately rose from his resting position and started to clamber towards Lin Lei. But cluttered and closely placed chairs barred him from an easy passage, and Xan found himself falling and flailing about instead of running to the rescue as per plan.
*Damn it!* he thought, hopping on one foot when he could not found enough place for his other. The customers were not even bothering to just move out of the way!
Suddenly, the man swung his fist forward, much to Xan's horror. But there was a quick flurry and flash of white, and the man's fist was stopped.
Long, with a piercing gaze and stern jaw, held his hand with open palm where Lin Lei's would have been, stopping the man's fist easily without so much as a wince.
"What the ARGH!" shouted the man as Long crushed his hand with a powerful grip honed from years of training.
The man immediately let go of Lin Lei, whimpering from the broken fingers and wrist in his hand. Long held out an arm and steadied Lin Lei as she fell. She was shaking a bit and Long gave her reassuring pat on her arm before pushing her behind him as he walked to the front of the crouching man.
"I believe you should leave now," Long said steadily, without a hint of malice or threat.
"My hand...damn you fucking little prick!" growled the man, his drunken fury now focused on the Chinese martial artist before him.
He tried to grab Long's legs before him, but he easily lept up and over him. The man, clumsy and cumbersome, stood up with Long behind him. He tried to turn but found himself restricted as Long grabbed his arms and tripped him with his left foot. The man fell heavily on his back with a groan, and wanted to get up again when Long's foot plants itself hard on his neck.
"I do not want to sully my hands on the likes of you anymore," Long's eyes were slitted with restrained anger, "Leave now, or I will be forced," he increased the pressure on the man's neck, choking his air supply to his already small brain, "To dirty my feet as well,"
The man, red in face, almost turning purple, desperately nodded. Long slowly lifted his foot off the man, and he sat up, spluttering and choking. He pushed himself and yelling a quick insult, dashed for the door.
This time, the customers move out of the way, noting that would be in their best interests, thus also freeing Xan from his red cushion and wood prison. As the man was about to run past him, a sudden thought reminded him of something, and he stuck out his foot.
With yet another crash, the man fell facefirst on the floor, and Xan said matter-of-factedly, "Hey buddy, you haven't the pay the bill yet, have ya/"
"YOU BLOODY PUNK!" yelled the man as he stood up, flustering and raging red, having forgotten his previous promise of exiting the premises immediately.
However, the sight of a glaring Long, creaking his neck and fingers coming up from behind, quickly reminded him of that.
"I have forgotten that as well. Thank you, young man," Long said, walking up to stand next to Xan.
The man crumpled into a frightened heap under Long's scrutinizing gaze. He pulled up a grimy brown wallet from his pocket and grabbed all the notes he had in it, and threw it on the ground before scampering straight for the door and bursting through it to the dark street beyond.
Someone amongst the astounded customers started to clap slowly, then gradually joined by the others as they were awaken from their silent stupor. Long glared over his shoulder at those behind him with a disapproving eye, and they were silent once more.
Turning to Xan, he bowed slightly, "Thank you for trying to help,"
Xan grinned cheerfully, "Heh, it was the least I could do, really! You did most the work anyway,"
"Perhaps," Long said with a sigh as he walked back to Lin Lei, who was sitting in a vacant seat, still trembling slightly.
The groan of chairs moving showed that many of the customers had lost their appetite. Lin Lei immediately got up, some tears still flowing form her eyes, when Long placed a firm hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down.
"You were right Lin Lei, I should help around here more often," he said quietly, "Take a rest first, I will collect the bills,"
Lin Lei sniffed a bit, before nodding in affirmation. Long walked calmly behind the counter, and being to take into account the orders and such of the customers. He then noted that Xan was standing near the counter, and looked up questioningly.
"I'm sorry, but are you waiting for something?"
"Oh! Yeah, well, I guessed the lady kinda forgot about...well, yeah,"
A quick glance at Long, and Xan could see he was slowly being irritated, though being very quiet and friendly about it.
"I was ordering take-away," Xan said quickly.
Long nodded, seaved through the order slips, and found the only one for take-away, "'Xan', am I correct?" Long asked, noting the name scribbled on the slip in case identification was needed.
"Yeah, that's right," Xan replied.
Long walked out through the swinging door of the counter, and disappeared behind a screen door with oriental designs of mandarin ducks and water lillies as he went into the kitchen. While waiting, Xan quickly fumbled for his own wallet and got the payment ready. A few minutes later, he returned to the counter, with Xan's order neatly placed in boxes and a plastic bag.
"Thanks," Xan said as he took the take-away and gave the paid Long the exact amount.
"Please come again soon," Long said politely as Xan nodded and left through the door of the restuarant.
Xan walked back in the dusky gloom of the night, lit only by grim streetlamps and some bright neon lights of shady establishments, and some not he supposed.
"That guy was pretty cool," he mumbled to himself, swinging the plastic bag absentmindedly.
Just a couple of blocks more, and in five minutes he'll be home. Well, home was really on another continent, but he would never really return there anymore, maybe at Christmas, just to see the old place again. Not that he had family there, anywhere, anymore.
Xan just let those thoughts drift away with the midnight chill, and felt inside his pocket for the key, early preparation for the door. He wondered whether Kris would be back early tonight, usually she might stay out for hours on end, only coming back by the early hours, and that meant he was usually already asleep.
It suddenly occurred to him how cat-like Kris was, totally indepedant despite living with someone else, likes to go out at night, finicky with her food.
Xan touched his right arm, the one which had payed the most with his association with Kris, it had two scars from previous punctures made by Kris' bites. And his right hand still had the scabs from her latest 'attack' on him.
Xan groaned from those moments of pain. Yup, acts exactly like a cat too.
"Now all she needs is a cat beast form," he mused as he continued to walk on into the night.
In a second of a second, a brief flash of a figure, darts across the small gap between two buildings. It lands firmly on its palms, before letting its legs land behind it, and push it forward in a leap.
Kris cloaks swirled around her body once more as she made another leap on an adjacent building. To anyone who happened to see her, she must have been quite a sight, some lone vigilante like in comic books?
Not really, Kris made it a point to expel whatever restlessness she had on those she found annoying, stupid, and utterly undeserving of a 'timely death' as it would be put.
Xan happened to be an exception.
She was hunting, although perhaps more like prowling. She had no particular target, and she had no reason to believe she would find one. More often than not, she went back with clean hands. Of course, if she did find a suitable target, she would make sure to go back very late, realising Xan would probably have a fit if he knew she was busy fighting on her nightly outgoings.
A leap...another leap...stop, turn around and sniff...another leap...
Targets had been scarace to say the least, she tried not to indulge herself in it too much. She liked to fight, but not particularly loving it. She made a mental note before though, that anyone in her way, looking for a fight, should be prepared to be killed if she let herself to.
So far, noone had pushed her to that extent, and the better part of her nature hoped that that would continue for a good time, but she was ready to start if needed.
"Hmm..." she murmured as her unusually sharp ears caught the sound of distressed man, coming from the alley just below her next jumping point.
"Perhaps this will not be a boring night after all," she said to herself, looking down with increased vision.
At least the perpetrators who experimented on her, had done a good job on her senses.
Kris saw the unmistakble hulking forms of three lowlife thugs, who had cornered a modestly dressed man in the alley, with the usual assortment of sharp weapons, a gun, and bully talk. The man had pressed himself in a corner, and whimpered as he tried to fulfill their demands of cash or life.
Kris snorted, she had hoped for better prey, instead of some pathetic lot, all four of them. She silently started down the wall, climbing down a short distance before reaching the fire escape, and proceeded to slink her way down by dropping on all fours and flattened herself to the metal surface.
The action was heating up, the thugs had proceeded to increase their sadistic enjoyment by terrorizing the man with tosses and crushing his glasses. Kris slipped over the edge of the fire escape, and proceed to climb down one more storey from the outside, before leaping down and landing lightly on her feet.
It was the cornered man who saw her first, perhaps thinking he had finally gotten his wishes for a saviour. In a way, he was right, but that was still up to Kris.
"Enjoying yourselves?" she slurred in a bored tone, crossing her arms in mock defiance.
"What the? Some kid?" muttered one of the thugs stupidly, turning around at the perceived new target.
"Outta looking for some trouble, ain't he!" growled a more furious member of the dastardly trio.
"He? I beg your pardon, but the last time I checked, I was of the opposite gender thank you very much," Kris said, in a snide laughing tone, that served only to increase her intended opponents' ill moods.
"We'll teach you a lesson on snooping, punk!" grinned the more daring man, who started to rub his fists in glee.
"You take pain for pleasure? You disgust me," Kris drawled, kicking a can absent-mindedly.
There were no more words exchanged, but for the mindless guffawing of the three men, thinking they had cornered their prey. Actually, Kris was waiting for her prey to come to her jaws, so to speak. The first man charged, gnarled hands outstretched to grab Kris. Her eyes flashed to face the charging bullhead, arms instinctively poised in a defensive stnace, legs following suit. With acute precision and timing, Kris dodged the charge by leaping up over her adversary's head as he dipped down just enough to grab her. His hands closed on thin air, and he felt his head being crushed down as Kris pushed down on it like a vaulting horse.
She leapfrogged over him easily, and a split second after landing on the otherside, she dodged a punch from a second. And another. And another. And another.
Each dodge simply required a step back, forward, or to the side. It was very boring.
"Can't you do better..." she drawled in a bored tone, once again dodging two punches from the same man.
Suddenly, her ears pricked at the sound of a 'click' in the background. Kris realised she had made a fatal mistake. Where was the third one?
In the gloom of the alley, Kris spotted the third member in the background, a fairly large handgun in hand, aiming at her with a sadistic grin plastered on his darkly shadowed face.
The 'click' was soon followed by the thunderclap of a shot being sent through the mouth of the gun, and streaking through the air with invisible speed.
The shot was quite accurate, might even have wounded Kris had she not noticed it in the first place. But, she had, and that made all the difference. She dodged both fists and bullet with a quick skirtle on the walls of the tight alley, able to run quickly enough on the walls, before kicking off hard like a ricocheting rubber ball.
All at once, she felt a surge of adrenaline pumped through her body, her muscles tensing and boistering with unintentional power, all at once, she felt the deep and unfathomable rage that spurred her on, the moment the sting of the gunshot reached her ears.
It was the guns. It was always the guns. She hated them, hated them, HATED THEM! They were used by only the weak, and with them they shot down the otherwise strong. Weaponry was for the weak, and she had no taste for the weak. In a mental groan and self-realisation, she realised she DID...tolerate...one such 'weak' person. Unfortunately for her, Xan just HAD to be trained in firearms. Trained very well in fact, too well.
The guns, just mentioning them, would send her into an outburst of rage that she would never unleash in her right mind. Comment on weaponry of any kind would bring about scoffing comments and sharp criticism. As for any actual use of weaponry, well, let's just say that person had better pray, or grovel, whichever was fast enough to actually happen before she pounced at them.
Tonight then, was no surprise to herself, really. It was bad enough she was stressed without any proper or even respectable opponent to pit herself against, it was worse that the three piteous ones had resorted to a gun to give them an edge.
It was unforgivable.
Her jaws had dropped open, baring her long and sharp-edged fangs in twilight. Her claws were stretched and arched into hooks, with her arms before her head as she pounced at her target. From those open jaws, a deep guttural growl rippled out, and was the only warning for the shocked man as he felt the force, and sudden searing pressure and lightness that followed as Kris bit down on his neck, her canines easily slashing through soft skin, fat and flesh to the windpipe within. Her claws at first gave her leverage on the man's shoulders, but were ripped free, leaving deep gashes, as she spun with momentum. Kris did not let go, and the man's neck was pulled by the powerful girl as her legs and body spun to the side, her feet reached the ground and she tossed the whole man behind her with her teeth still locked on his neck.
Blood spurted in a thick shower from the man's ruptured throat. So mangled was it that spare flesh hang like leaves on the wind, whole strips were pulled apart or dangling from a thread. The man's eyes were wide open in pure terror and confusion, his mouth gaping like a dying fish as his felt his breath simply flitter back out again through the gaping hole.
Bloody threads spun down from Kris' jaws, dribbling drop by drop from her clenched jaws in the dark light.
The other two men, could only gape in horror that matched the dying one's, and they retreated in disgust as their comrade reached out with feeble hands for help.
"You weaklings..." Kris snarled, her black mane whipping about her, her red eyes flashing and her ivory white teeth glimmering with those roads of red.
"Pathetic weaklings..." she snorted as the men tried to run.
She fell on all fours and bounded after them easily, her cloaks and mane masked her body and she became a gigantic wide beast, chasing weakened and frightened prey.
"Did you really think a 'gun' would stop me?!" she exclaims in fury as she catches up with one of the men, stood again and drew back her right arm, plunging it forward with deadly accuracy straight through the back of the neck, her sharp and long talons cutting easily through spine and throat to have the sharp points poking on the otherside.
"WEAKLINGS!" she roared as she withdraws her bloodied claws. Standing behind the dead man's body, the blood from the wound on his neck splashed down on her face and black hair, its thick stickiness clotting her hair and annoying her hairs.
As the man topples lifeless to the ground, she turns to the third and last one, who was now some distance away from her, nearly in the middle of of the deserted main road. She snarls savagely, her feralness manifesting itself to the fullest then. She easily covered the distance between them in little less than two bounds, and she pounced on the back of the last, her jaws flashing as she latches down hard on his throat with her fangs, cutting short the strangled scream that was about to escape. Her claws dig into the thick and sinewy flesh of the man's arms as she chokes him death, increasing the pressure till the man's eyes are flooded with a backwash of blood and his head slumps and lolls with wild abandon once Kris cracked his neck.
Kris refuses to let go of her hold, even as the the dead man falls front first to the ground with a dull thud. Her jaws were still immersed deep in his bleeding neck, her claws still gripping the dead meat in frozen tension. Her breath comes in heaves, sending blood spattering as her sharp breath pushes through the bloody mess in her jaws. Her eyes were wide alert, her ruby pupils fully dilated and giving her unprecendented clarity of her surroundings. Her ears were pricked to the slightest sound, their acuteness almost deafening to her. Her body was livid with still raging power and rampant aggression, the hair on her back were poised up in a frazzled arch. Her tongue flicked subconciously, and she felt the metallic taste of blood in her throat, they had sneaked into her mouth when she did not bother to spit them out.
She was ready, but for what? Her mind was in disarray, and the question begged whatever bit of rationality she had left, to answer this question. Her whole body was primed for something, it was there, she felt it deep in her guts, that she had to do something.
Suddenly, the answers were all to clear to her. She had made a kill, three in fact, the alley beckoned her to drag this last one into its dark depths to join the first two. Then...then...
She was to feed.
BANG!
Kris let go of the slumping neck, it fell to the ground with a squelch as it was finally released. She screamed in pain and whirled about, her claws ripping through uninhibited from the hold of the flesh. Immediately, she felt a flush of pain in her left arm. She groaned and held over the fresh wound, snarling beneath her breath at this atrocity.
The bullet had dug itself a home in the flesh between her shoulder blade and arm joint. It was bleeding profusely, going right through the thick cloaks wound around her neck, spreading like dark tendrils to cover an increasing larger area.
She glared into the dark alley behind her, and heard the shallow whimpering and gibbering of the previously threatened man. In the dark, her increased clarity revealed the man had managed to leave his weak position of fear, and grab the gun from the dead grip of the first thug. He held it shakily, his face white with terror as he saw Kris staring at him with anger and rage from his shot.
"M...m...monster!" he managed to gasp, his hands shaking and fumbling with the gun.
Kris almost laughed. Despite the extreme pain in her arm, she stood up to her full height, and strode confidently back into the alley. The man, apparently believing Kris was about to rip his neck out, cried out in fright and dropped the gun altogether. Kris snuffed at this show of cowardice, and resigned to the fact that the man probably shot her accidentally, considering he could not have possibly gathered the wits to aim and shoot.
"So, it's alright to shoot if it's not human, eh?" she slurred lazily, looking down at the man with her mouth concealed as she pulled up her dark stained cloak to her face. All she got was a terrified mix of wail and 'eek!' in reply.
She could not be further bothered with the man, she was more concerned on getting away from here. She winced as she jumped up to reach the lower end of a ladder from a fire escape, feeling the stretching pain of the severed muscle in her shoulder. She pulled herself up, and began a quick ascent to the top of the building. The gunshot would probably attract unwanted attention, not to mention the dead man clear in the lights of the streetlamps, was bound to be spotted by a passing car sooner or later.
Reaching the top, Kris pulled down her cloak to get a good whiff of the air. The smell of alley, mingled with the stink and spilled blood of the thugs, was disgusting to her sensitive sense of smelling. The air, perhaps not as fresh as one would like, was still a welcome refresher.
Kris' clawed hands dripped with thin streams of blood, and her mouth in the gloomy light of the moon, was dark with red blood smeared and drying on her jaws. Kris did not lick even the blood on her lips off, that was a bit much, almost cannibalistic if you want to get technical about it. Then, she remembered how she had felt while still lost in a feral rage. She had indeed, almost, intended to eat the man. Or did she? There was no doubt in her mind that she had intended to cause further mayhem on teh corpses of the unfortunates, but had she truly wanted to feast on their flesh? She had never experience something quite like that before, she was usually just plain angry and furious, wanting to only hurt and kill, but to actually eat?
That could be explained by a simple hunger. She had not eaten her dinner yet, and perhaps that caused her to lose more control than usual.
She doubt she would have really ate the man, the idea was stomach turning at it was. The three thugs could not have bathed more than five days ago and the rancid smell that hung around them as a whole would discouraged her from close combat with them if she had not been bored.
In fact, she well might have left them alone, and alive, after a bit of brawling, if only they had not shot her.
Kris growled. They paid the price for that indecency, even the cowardly one was given the ability to wound with that damnable contraption.
She hate guns.
Kris finally sighed. She was visibly a mess, blood-soaked from cloak to hair. If she did not reach home before Xan, there would be a certain amount of trouble to spring up, that Kris would rather avoid. The gun wound would be impossible to prevent Xan drom detecting, she would simply have to say she was shot were transversing some buildings, having been mistaken for a thief.
The pain in her shoulder had reduced to a dull throbbing, that would awaken with a vengence if she moved too much. It was unavoidable though, if she wanted to quickly make her way back to the apartment. She gritted her teeth, and drew in her left arm as much as possible, trying not to swing it about too much. She dashed across the roof quickly, and began leaping from one ledge to another as she made her way back.
Stepping lightly on the opened ledge, Kris peered into the empty apartment discreetly, sniffed about for a while, than let herself in silently. She closed the window, and flipped the catch though there was really no need with her around. Xan had often argued that leaving the window open was just begging for thieves to get in, but Kris had never really cared. There was nothing of value in the house anyway.
She sighed despite herself, home was still a familiar place, and noone was any happier than being somewhere they felt secure. That was how she felt as well.
She pulled off her many cloaks quickly, and bound them such that the bloodied ones were hidden within the others. She went to the kitchen, and tossed them down the laundry chute. The Zoanthrope NGO organization were pretty thoughtful in providing for their members, figuring they would be better off helping ensure peace than doing laundry. Kris just hoped that the cleaners on duty would not ask too many questions, even better if they were lazya and just threw her cloaks with the rest of the pile without bothering to check.
Kris went into the single bedroom, and into the bathroom. She turned on the heater, and the shower as well, dousing her head and face with gradually warming water. The blook thinned into red swirls in the water, flowing down in the drain without a trace. Her hair was a bit harder, it was thick and she had the sickening feeling that the blood might have flowed deeper into it than she could reach. Well, it would have to do just then, she thought as she rinsed her hands, then the bathroom floor off of residue blood, grabbed her towel and dried herself off.
She felt better. Xan would never know, well, except for her wound. That, she would need some help with. She did not dare pull out the bullet just yet, though it would be fairly easy with her sharp claws, but she knew she would need someone else to help bind it or to put pressure on it, she alone could not possibly do both at the same time.
She sat down on the couch and lay down on the soft headrest with a soft sigh. She felt tired, and if it were not for her wound, she would probably fall asleep right there and then. She leaned back and closed her eyes for a moment to relax, but was reawoken when familiar footsteps approached the door.
Turning to face the door behind her, she heard the click of the key, and saw the turning of the knob. Rays of light from the hallway filtered into the darker room, and Xan stepped into his home with one of his hands grasping what Kris could smell, as food.
"Oh, you're back early today," commented Xan as he turned on the lights and closed the door behind him.
"Hm," Kris replied simply, eyeing the food out of the corner of her eye.
"I need some help, Xan," she said as she stood up from her position of rest. Xan looked up in surprise, a request of assistance from Kris was very rare.
Turning to face him with a bored expression, Xan's eyes widened at the bloody hole in her arm. Kris wore a short sleeved shirt underneath all her cloaks, and some long pants of his as well. The entire left side of the shirt was almost totally soaked in blood, and Kris glanced at it with a sidewise and contemptous look before facing Xan again.
"What happened?!" he exclaimed, dropping the food bag on the counter and quickly going up to Kris. He stood slightly taller than Kris, and he looked down at the wound with a look of twisted fear.
"Someone thought I was a thief on the roof, and shot me," Kris said the lines perfectly, and Xan expectingly, accepted them without the least suspicion.
"I knew that you were going to get hurt one day!" he half-yelled in slight exasperation as he inspected the wound with Kris rolling her eyes at his apparent, motherly attitude.
After grimacing with the final inspection of the wound, Xan went behind the kitchen counter, opened a drawer there, and took out his First Aid kit. Then, he scooted into the only bathroom and grabbed all the towels there, not noticing one being damp.
Kris was sitting down on the couch, and Xan set the kit on the low table, and braced the towels in his hands. When he was suddenly struck with a thought.
"How are we going to get the bullet out?"
Kris pointed at herself, and then pulled down the left sleeve enough to reveal the wound. Xan grimaced once more when he saw the dark red and scarred flesh. Kris had faster regenerative ability then other zoanthropes, that much Xan found out when she was caught in a fight once. Apparently, she could regenerate to an extent even in human form.
The blood had clot, but the bullet prevented the healing to go much further than that.
"Get ready," Kris warned Xan, as she raised her right hand with claws at ready.
Xan almost closed his eyes in imagined pain as he saw Kris dig to of her fingers into the wound, he heard all too clearly, the sound of shifting flesh, and heard Kris grunt in pain as she gripped the bullet, and pulled it out with one swift movement. The wound, having been disturbed, started to bleed again and Xan immediately lunged at it with a towel in hand, applying as much pressure as he could.
Kris allowed herself to be pinned to the chair as they waited for the blood to naturally clot, Kris was hardly bothered beyond a clenched jaw from the stinging pain, but Xan looked as if he were trying to save a dying person with a fatal wound. Kris could tell him outright that it was little more than a flesh wound, but she did not say a word until she felt that the bleeding had stop, and her arm no longer pained her.
With a bit fear, Xan lessened the pressure. Seeing no more blood, he slowly pulled away, the fibers of the towel sticking to and around the wound from the blood. The wound was not a pretty sight, but it had more or less closed with a weak scabby lining of plasma. Kris lay motionless, knowing a bit of movement might rupture it again.
Xan opened the kit and got out what he needed, and begin to medicate the wound very carefully, giving concerned warnings to Kris about not being able to leave the house for at least one or two more nights. If Kris could, she would have shrugged, but she just accepted those words with slight nods.
Leaning back in thought as Xan begin to bind the shoulder with layer upon layer of cloth, Kris thought about being shot, and asked him offhandedly, "Can you shoot something because it's 'not human'?"
Xan looked up at this unexpected question, thought for a moment, then went back to his work and replied with a smile, "No way, then you're 'not human' yourself for doing that,"
Kris smiled too but Xan was too busy binding another layer to see.