Ayami Hayazaki stood well away from the revel, watching it with those sharp eyes of hers. Sword sheathed, daggers well hidden should she be caught. It had to be tonight. This was it. Tugging her mask on over her face, she stood. Evil would take a hard hit at this one, and she was going to be delivering the blows.
She darted down the hill, staying cloaked within the shadows as she did so, braided hair bouncing against her back as she moved swiftly. She burst through the alarm wards that had been set up, the terrible screeching that filled the air deafening. The first Death Eater she tore through didn't even see it coming. He saw only the flash of steel, and then fell onto the ground in a lifeless heap.
She dodged the first few rapidly-fired spells, mowing down men and women left and right. Her target was obvious, as she ploughed through the crowd towards the monster on his pedestal above the rest.
She felt a slicing spell hit her arm, but ignored the pain, feet carrying her across the grass with a practiced grace and silence. Most of the witches and wizards were still too shocked to do anything, let alone fire off a spell. However, a few seemed to have been on their guard, and another spell hit her, this time knocking her back several feet.
Gritting her teeth, Ayami was on her feet again, the fabric of her shirt clinging to her arm as it was soaked further and further with her own blood. She cut down one last person before she launched herself onto the platform on which this creature sat, so calm and collected. She didn't think. Blind rage was enough to drive her to bring her sword down on him. And..
Nothing.
There was no blood.
No sound.
It was only a few moments, but it seemed like an eternity as she stared into the slitted red eyes of this creature that must have once resembled a man. Her sword was barely an inch from his skin, and yet it seemed as though she couldn't bring it down any further. He raised his wand, and panic seemed to finally set in as her eyes widened.
She couldn't hear what he said, but the blast sent her tanto flying in one direction, and her body flying in the other. She landed on her back with a resounding thud, the force of it knocking the air out of her lungs.
"Leave her," She heard a voice hiss distantly, "She'll bleed to death where she is. Let her suffer."
There was a murmur of consent, followed by a dismissal by the sounds of the members of the dark organization disapparating. She didn't move, she didn't blink. She laid there, waiting for silence.
Slowly, she picked herself up, ripping the now-ruined sleeve into a long strip of cloth, tying a tourniquet around her arm. She groaned, her muscles aching in protest now that her adrenaline was no longer pumping. She stumbled as she stood, lightheaded and somewhat nauseated from the loss of blood.
A twig snapped behind her, and she stood unmoving until she felt a hand on her shoulder. She spun quickly, and almost immediately regretted it, blackness edging in at the corners of her vision. She stumbled again, this time falling to the ground. It seemed so much better to just.. let it happen.
And she gave in to the blackness.