Knock On Wood
Hmmm. Okay Black Waltz 0, I'll make you a deal. Whenever you update Lust Jaw, I'll update Knock On Wood. Sound like a fair trade? shakes fist threateningly I'm still waiting for that update! I won't stop pressuring you until you update it! I want updates, or I shall scorn you and your characters for the rest of your life! scowls
Klox: You done yet?
Aughus: Allow her to vent her anger. Actually, I am looking rather forward to that update myself.
Klox: Look, pal, who's side are you on?
Aughus: Yours, apparently. We are after all, figments of the same imagination.
Klox: .......
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Chapter Five: Outcry
Kaitlyn absently rubbed her recently healed wrist as she charged down the next corridor. Her Seawolf ME14 knocked against her back with every shaky stride she took, reminding her that she was no longer the weak, defenseless little girl she had been sheer minutes ago. She was armed and just about ready to do anything she could to help her Uncle Gallows. Especially when her father...
Gallows had ordered her to return to fissure that marked their entrance to the ruins. She had, of course, completely and whole-hearted protested. When he took off through the main complex of the tunnels and passages, however, she had weighed her options consciously and decided to do the exact opposite of what he wished.
Kaitlyn knew the layout of the ruins to no end. She had once tried to navigate with with her eyes closed and had done extraordinarily well until she was ambushed by a troupe of Ascomids. She knew the easiest way to travel from the west locale to the east. Gallows may reach her father, after all, but what if he didn't reach him in time?
Her path was not well illuminated. She split the shadows, the hollow echo of her boots resounding in her ears as if they were the battle cries of a brewing storm. Despite her frequent use of these forgotten tunnels, they were poorly kept and thickened with cobwebs, dust and and a stagnant odour. She ignored them all with a mutual dislike to their presence.
The corridor split into a cross-section just ahead of her. She knew that if she took a right, she would eventually end up back where she began. If she continued to run straight ahead, she would find herself outside the temple. The left passage, however, led her straight to the foyer of the ruins. If she could race there, perhaps she could take the normal route to the other end of the temple and hope that Gallows did not find her.
She did not slow down as she banked around the corner. The hall was widening as she ran through, becoming brighter and easier to breathe in, summoning a sigh of relief. The cold, clammy corridors had begun to remind her of her unfortunate experience over the past few days. Never, she decided, would she be so careless to lose her ARM again. Or at least, she knew it would be safer to keep her dagger where she could reach it at all times.
Finally, she came to the very end of the run. Without thinking about it twice, she ran her hand over the hidden switch that would open the wall and admit her into the main hall.
She slipped through the rumbling door, glancing at her surroundings nervously. To her satisfaction, Gallows was nowhere in sight, which meant he had either already passed this way or he had not yet come. Either way, she had to move quickly.
The rest of the corridors flew by. They were bright and airy, occasionally decorated by a stream of sunlight that leaked through the loose rocks. She was breathing heavily by now, but there was no mistaking the approaching sounds of infuriating growling and the very distinctive gunshots of the Gungir HAG 35.
That was it! Her father...Daddy...was still alive...
She burst through an empty doorway, emerging into a large room she had marked down in her notes for exploration in the future. It was a room she had very little knowledge of and hardly interested her because of its vacancy.
It was no longer vacant now. The first thing she saw made her insides turn cold, for at least a half a dozen of the dragon creatures (very identical to her previously unwanted enemy) prowled about the dusty floors. Two more clung to the walls near the ceiling, and four others lie motionless in random spots about the chamber with gunshots to their heads or chests.
What she saw next seized her icy innards and gave them a painful yank. At the far corner of the room, a lean, green-haired Drifter aimed his ARM at yet another one of the monsters and fired. The beast squealed with pain and collapsed.
An uncontrollable mixture of both rapture and distress washed over her. "Daddy!"
Stunned by the sound of his daughter's voice, Clive whirled about in amazement. His expression was soon replaced by that of agony when one of the nearest dragons took advantage of his distraction and leapt – snarling – onto his back.
Kaitlyn did not freeze to waste her valuable time. In a flurry of movements, she un-holstered her ARM and poised with it, locking her aim on the assaulting beast. A sharp crack filled the room as the older, less accurate weapon unleashed its magazine into the back of the dragon. It was knocked to one side by the force of the bullet, freeing the trapped man beneath its claws.
The unexpected shot had taken the remaining dragons by surprise. The ones clinging to the walls leapt into the shadows while the other six scattered about the room, searching for their newfound enemy. In the pit of the confusion, Kaitlyn dashed forward and threw herself beside her fallen father.
Clive had rolled over, gripping the bleeding bite wound he had received to her shoulder. When she neared him, his eyes shot open and seemed to be looking just past her head. "Kaitlyn, do not-"
His warning came a moment too late. In a flash of red scales, the wounded reptile regained it composure and batted heavily at the unsuspecting girl's back. Kaitlyn stifled a scream as she was sent sprawling onto the ground.
The dragon did not seem at all interested in her. Instead, it slunk ungracefully until it loomed above the injured Drifter, its jaws parted in vicious, throaty drone...the drone his most difficult prey usually heard before they were torn to mere ribbons.
Another shot pierced the air. The dominant male dragon gurgled shortly, reared back its head in its final death throe and landed heavily on the floor.
The seven remaining creatures hesitated. After witnessing the fall of their leader and kin-mate, none of them seemed to lust for the battle. A brief moment of indecision passed before they chose to flee. Some leapt into the shadows on the ceiling while the rest sped through the opposite end of the chamber.
Gallows rushed to Kaitlyn first, replacing his still-smoking ARM in its holster. She had already begun struggling to sit up, whimpering quietly as her cracked rib complained about the reallocation.
Her 'uncle' helped her sit up, muttering something about how teenagers didn't listen to their elders before he prepared a healing Arcana to fix her rib.
Clive stumbled to his feet, apparently unhindered by the gouge he'd received just minutes ago. Instead of tending to his own wounds, he staggered towards the thirteen-year-old who stared just as diligently back at her father. Kaitlyn noticed that he limped because of an injury he had taken before she'd arrived.
Before Gallows could finish his Arcana spell, she clambered to her feet and stumbled slightly. Then, with a grief-twisted face, she hurled herself at the green-haired Drifter and buried her face in his coat. She began pummeling him with her fist, crying and yelling at the same time.
"Why…?" she said through clenched teeth. "Why couldn't you come home? W-Why…didn't you just come back! I was…scared, 'cause you n-never…why couldn't you have told us!? Why!?"
Clive didn't know whether to feel surprised or not. Gradually, she lowered her fist and allowed his arms to envelop her gently. She continued to shed tears, although her sobbing had somewhat subsided. "I am sorry, Kaitlyn," he managed to croak hoarsely. "I would never wish to leave you for so long…not for any reason. Never…"
"Then why did you?" she wanted to know, her voice muffled by the red fabric of his coat. She did not care that her middle ached, or that blood seeped into her hair. "Why did you have to leave Mommy and me?"
"There is no possible way to explain," he replied truthfully. "What matters to me is that you are safe. I would not be able to forgive myself had some harm come to you…"
"I'm fine," she said, breathing a long, shaky sigh. She hugged him tightly, as if afraid he might disappear at any moment. "I missed you so much, Daddy…"
What occurred in the shadows was silent. An undetermined force, perhaps something or 'someone' with no greater cause than blind misery, sulked in the unseen places. As she watched the scene unfold, she felt her small, withered heart simply scream with a bitter, selfish laughter. She had no physical mask, but the one she wore veiled whatever pitiless emotion she felt.
How sentimental…
All three of the 'pathetic' humans jolted at the hollowed tones of her voice. Cackling with her elegant yet raw and livid throat, the demon unlatched her claws from the stone wall and landed with a feline grace on the ground.
Her scales shone the deepest crimson. Without the scarcest light, she was easily identifiable as black, and stunningly handsome. Compared to the rest of her kind, she was larger and more lithe. Her claws tipped almost human-like hands, her slender, reptilian face smoother than blood pearls and her eyes shining with the same hue as blood itself. And from the depths of her chest, it seemed, an impossibly choppy and uneven voice dwelled.
So you invade the parish of my kin, kill my friends… Her tongue snaked out and flashed daringly. When my helpless mate failed to kill the young rat, I should have drowned her with fire.
Clive was the first to react. Instinctively placing himself between his daughter and the malevolent dragon, he reached for the small Meteor A-1 in the hidden holster located within his coat. True to his intelligent reputation, he did carry a back-up ARM for such cases when he found himself unarmed.
"What the-" Gallows stepped forward bravely. His hand went to the handle of his Coyote. "Okay, how'd that just happen?"
You, mentally inadequate one, said the creature, showing her incisors, would do best to be silent. We have already chosen to spare you, however…
Clive tensed, ready to draw the pistol at any time. "We had no notion that you are a sentient specie. Instead of enlarging the casualties, why not allow us to leave in peace? We mean you no harm as long as we are not threatened."
Yes, I know you are strong. The dragon drew back her lips in a vicious snarl. But then you are weak. Were my kind not so few in numbers, you would have served as our lunch many hours ago.
Kaitlyn was trembling, for once not feeling at all inclined to draw her weapon and stand bravely. With her father here, everything seemed much different. Now she could go home, and they could talk about everything, anything they wished to say to each other that she had believed she would never say again. Trembling, she clung to Clive's coat and glared tactlessly at the dragon.
I have come simply to say, said the creature, blinking her scarlet eyes with a restrained fury. You cannot escape her even if you try. Now that she is our ally, your pathetic, human existence will cease to be. Our world…will begin.
In no less than a second, her violet-red scales shimmered. Then, she vanished. With no trace or evidence that she had ever been, the creature disappeared into thin air. There was not even a sound to be heard of her exit.
The trio stood poised, not entirely ready to give up on their collective suspicion. When at last, the two Drifters relaxed their grips on their ARMs, Gallows made a bellowing sigh and scratched the back of his neck. "Well that was extremely odd…"
"It appears we have made a formidable enemy," said Clive.
His elation in being reunited with his daughter still sung true, but there was also a deep concern for her safety. As much as he would have liked to believe that it was over, there was much to be done about this new situation…on top of their criminal setting with the Arc.
"I didn't mean that," said Gallows, warily. "Didn't you feel what the Guardians were feeling?"
Clive looked at him, aware that Kaitlyn was now looking at them both with plain confusion. "I felt nothing."
"Exactly," said the Baskar. "There was nothin' there, like she was some kinda ghost or astral presence…"
Clive thought for a moment, and adjusted his glasses. "A hologram, perhaps?"
His comrade made a disbelieving face. "A race of scaly reptiles with that technology? Kinda farfetched, isn't it?"
"However, she spoke of an ally," Clive suggested. "There is a chance that these creatures are receiving some outside influence by a much stronger entity."
Gallows frowned. "Good point. Should we tell our fearless leader?"
Kaitlyn seemed to snap out of her stupor. Clinging to her father's hand, she smiled and cheered, "You mean Aunt Virginia? Are we going to see her, too?"
Clive understood why she would be so unfazed by the recent events. After all, he knew very little about the experiences she had endured while traveling alone. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "We will," he said reassuringly. "I am sure she will be happiest once we all arrive safely in Boot Hill."
The Baskar lifted her arms in a questionable manner. "Boot Hill? What about…you know…Humphrey's Peak?"
Clive looked solemn, and he shook his head gently. "Until we have decided on our next actions, it is safest to have Kaitlyn with us. I do not wish…to leave her again."
"Alright," Gallows brow furled slightly, but he did not argue. "Just wanted to be sure. Although I guess I kinda see your point about Virginia…"
"At the moment, it is best we take our leave before our opponents recover from their wounds." The green-haired Drifter released his daughter's hand with a smile and moved to retrieve his Gungir HAG 35 from the ground. "To save on lost time, we will take the Teleport Orb once we reach an open location."
With Kaitlyn in close tow to her father, beaming as happily as she could possibly be without laughing for joy, the small band of Drifters left the chamber. The stench of blood, the putrid bodies, the red-streaked floors and faint memories of gunshots taken were all left behind.
Something stirred in the lightless corner. It was not very larger, nor did it bear an evil intent towards anything else. It was brand new, living and huddling close to the body of its dead mother. Mewling inquisitively, the creature nibbled gently at his dam's cold, still muzzle.
When she did not awake, he mewled again. Then, without a second glance to the massacre that head taken place, he dashed across the room in leaps and bounds, drawing close to the doorway the tall, gangly strangers had left through. The one that smelled like his mother was going away, and that made him unhappy. He grunted pitiably, and in a flash of pinkish scales, vanished through the arch.
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Short, I know. And to the point. Man, this angst and storyline developing is making me hungry. I need a sardine sandwich…mmmmm…
Klox: That's disgusting…
Aughus: And your opinion counts? You're a robot, remember.
Klox: Do I give one smidgen bit of what you think?
Aughus: What I think, you think. In any case, I shall reply to the reviews, since Yachi is so engrossed in her sandwhich.
Yachi: ….mmmffh foo…mouth is full
Aughus: Let's see…who is this? Ah, of course, Teefa85. Your comment about the connection between Maxwells and Winsletts is duly noted, madam. On the whole, the instance is rather interesting, for you see, the actual concept of a father/daughter relationship is not as secure…
Everyone Else: ……………………..
Aughus: …of course, we could focus on the relation as a series of co-existing events……
Everyone Else: …..ZZZZzzzzzz……