PLEASE READ: This chapter is written without a beta (she apparently still has some serious computer problems). I'm not a native English, so there will be very likely some mistakes (mainly commas, I think). But I hope you still like it!
Thank you for reviewing so far!
A second later, Methos could see a beam of light shine into the dark hall. So much for hiding, he thought disappointed as he released the safety catch of the gun he had hidden in his coat-pocket.
"I can't see him," a young sounding voice whispered.
"Maybe you should then go in and have a look, stupid fool,"another voice suggested mockingly.
Few moments later, Methos spotted the dark contour of a figure appear on the door. In one hand it held a flashlight and in the other Methos could see the shape of a sword. The figure only managed five steps into the room until it began to complain," Ahh, this smells horrible... and look at the dirt."
"Hey," a third voice threw in, "we are not here because of the beautiful area if you remember. You are the one who has been getting on our nerves for 3 days now saying that it's your term to get the next quickening. And now that you have the chance, you complain about some smell... Hey, if you don't want him, then let me! I don't whine because I could get myself a bit dirty."
The first figure only snarled angrily at these words as he continued to let his light wander over the room.
Knowing that he couldn't hide in the dark any longer, Methos stepped into the light while he made sure that he had a relatively good position between the door and the windows. One hand in his pocket, he aimed the hidden gun at the figure in front of him.
The man, Methos identified him now as the one with the scar, grinned evilly at him. Letting an expression of fear flicker over his Adam Pierson, mild mannered watcher face, Methos hold his sword in a manner that cried out loudly: Newbie.
After a few moments, the other three Immortals also entered and Armand de Court smiled with a very false smile at Methos as he greeted him, "hi, I don't think we've had the chance to exchange introductions yet – you were running too fast... So, let's make it up now."
Pointing with one hand at the stupid looking guy standing behind the man with the scar, he then explained," this guy here, you've hit recently, is Jacob... I don't believe that he likes you very much. But don't concern yourself with him, you'll fight Ronan here."He let his hand wander to the man with the scar. "And last but not least Karl." He pointed at the third guy. "And I'm Armand, their teacher." He looked then expectantly at Methos, "... and you are?"
"I'm Adam Pierson," Methos replied with a very young and harmless sounding voice, "and I don't want to fight you."
"Sorry, but I'm afraid that's not for discussion," de Court answered, a slight trace of amusement now evident in his voice. "You must know that I promised Ronan a head today. You surly understand that I can't violate my word, don't you?" he then asked with a very false friendliness in his voice.
"You are four - it's against the rules to fight together."
"Yes, you are right," de Court grinned, "and we will not violate the rules." His grin deepened as he addressed his students that were grinning evilly at Methos. "The youngling here thinks we fight unfair, boys". He shook his head in pretended hurt as he clicked his tongue. "We go strictly by the rules," he then smiled sweetly at Methos, "one by one and no interfering... And now I really suggest that you start fighting because we have not the whole day, and the odour here is not very appealing."
In the moonlight Methos could make out the grinning face of Ronan as the other threw his flashlight to Jacob and then stepped closer. Without hesitation he then attacked. Methos knew after a few blows that the other was a good swordsman but compared to him not good enough – he easily would have defeated the man if the other Immortals hadn't been near.
Pretending to be a relatively inexperienced fighter, Methos only parried the other one's blows but not seriously attacked himself. Using all the stalling tactics he had come to know of during his 5000 years, he easily managed to get the other man to underestimate him.
Waiting for the best moment to make his escape, he then finally feigned an attack from the left side but instead attacked from the right. This obviously unexpected manoeuvre caught his opponent by total surprise and made him hesitate for a moment – a moment too much.
Methos used the other's inattentiveness to by-pass his parry and then ram him through with the Ivanhoe. Pulling it out again in one quick move, he then raised it with almost inhuman speed while he roared an ancient war cry and beheaded his adversary with one forceful blow. Not waiting for the other men to recover from their surprise, he then continued his movement and also beheaded the stupid looking guy who was still starring in shock at his now headless friend. The whole act had not lasted more than 4 seconds.
Hearing the dead bodies fall to the floor behind him, he then grabbed his pistol inside of his coat and began to fire through it at the two remaining Immortals. Simultaneously, he then hurried backwards to the next window and jumped through it, emptying his gun into the hall.
Because the room he had jumped out happened to be in the 4Th story, he hit the ground very hard, together with several fragments of glass that cut deeply into his flesh. Moaning in pain, he then remained laying there for some seconds while he felt blood-bubbles appear on his mouth – apparently the fall had caused some serious injuries. Every move brought him terrible pain; but he had no other choice than to run now. He didn't know if the bullets had wounded the Immortals, and he also was painfully aware that the quickening would hit him soon and leave him totally vulnerable to any further attacks.
Forcing himself with gritted teeth to get up, he then staggered along the street. He didn't make it very far until the first quickening hit him. Knowing that he had to bring more distance between him and the Immortals, he began to fight the quickening as hard as he could manage - and he managed very hard.
He was able to turn it away for some precious moments what brought him enough time to make it to the end of the street. But then the second quickening joined the first and hammered in almost brutal force into Methos. Being already weakened by the injuries, he had no restrains against it any longer. The combined power of the two quickening was worse than every quickening he had ever experienced in his life.
Methos felt incredible pain; his whole universe exploded in white burning fire. From a very large distance he meant to hear someone screaming; he needed several moments to register that this someone was him. After a time that felt like eternity to him, he then found himself kneeling on the dirty ground, one hand clenched so forcefully around his sword-hilt that blood drooped from it. He also could taste the typical metallic flavour of blood in his mouth and felt something warm and sticky run down his right leg as he tried to get up again - blood. This was definitely not normal: something had gone terrible wrong with the quickening.
He moaned and looked up as he suddenly heard a noise that sounded as if someone was inhaling deeply. In front of him stood his watcher; the other man's eyes were wide of shock and fear and his face was very pale as he starred directly at Methos.
Methos finally forced himself to get up as he heard an angry cry coming from the abandoned factory. He only managed a few steps into the direction of the watcher until his legs refused to obey him any longer; with a painful moan on his bloodied lips, he felt to the ground - or would have fallen if the watcher hadn't caught him the last second.
Apparently shocked about his own reaction, the watcher then stared with wide eyes at Methos's face before he shook his head and then tried to back away. "I... I cannot help you, I... I've sworn an oat,... never interfere," he stammered, panic in his voice.
"Please," Methos begged weakly while fresh red blood appeared once again on his lips.
As the noise behind them got louder, the watcher finally came to a decision...