Part III! This is exciting! These characters aren't my own… ect…
Despite my fear, I paint a broad grin on my lips. "Do you truly think that, even after you kill me, you will accomplish your goal, whatever that may be? In short, you will be hunted down, like prey, by the entire Avian and Serpiente army combined. No, you are the prey. Now, though, I have the advantage of the air."
"True, true."
Knowing that he truthfully has the upper hand, I refuse to back down this far into the game. "If you agree to fight solely in human form, I will as well."
He laughs maniacally. "Little hawk, I will crush you. You are shielded, yet unversed in war and fighting. What do you know of death? In an instant you will be regretting what you are saying at this very moment."
I smirk inwardly. Very good. His ignorance and arrogance will blind him from my true ability and leave him unprepared. Cautiously, I lower myself to the ground, once again. Scanning my memory of all the things Rei had taught me about fighting, I shut my eyes, but only for an instant before fluttering them open and meeting those grey ones of my opponent. With an apprehensive glance at Zane, lying on the floor, I blink back tears and rage starts to burn a deep hue in my eyes.
The wolf steps forward and I step back. Our eyes are in a deadlock, neither one of us willing to falter in the least bit. In an instant, I notice the slit of his pupil tremble, signifying his preparation for attack. I don't hesitate another second and turn for only a moment to reach for the hilt of a blade hanging on the wall.
This was a mistake. As I turn my back to him, he seizes this opportunity to pounce. No sooner has my hand grasped the handle of the gleaming rapier, I feel sharp nails digging into my shoulder, piercing cloth and flesh as I stagger to the ground, pinned to the marble and unable to move. I feel his grin at my helplessness and his silver eyes flashing with satisfaction. My palm sweats as it grips to the sword, it may be the last line I have to life. The icy touch of the handle compromises the heat of my hand. I feel my fingers run over the pattern engraved in the hilt, holding onto it dearly for its reassuring presence. I sense the wolf eying my right hand with vigilance.
I hear the rush of air, pushed from his hand moving, closing the gap. Without time to think, I impulsively twist the blade and I feel hear the song of metal piercing flesh and a spray of crimson spews from his wrist. The wolf yelps. Not in pain, but in surprise. He hesitates for only a few seconds, releasing his hold on me. Swiftly, I push him off and roll to my knees. His eyes flash irately in my direction as his hand clenches his wrist, blood seeping out with the heat of his fury.
He's dangerously close to Zane, therefore capable of rash actions, damaging, nonetheless. I don't let my gaze wander, in hopes not to suggest anything of that manner. So far, he senses nothing.
The wolf backs up only a couple paces. Bright eyes flare, daring me to be the first to attack. I invite the challenge with open arms. Before he realizes I've fully recovered, I fly to him and land a blow to his side. Again, the blade sings as it contacts the soft flesh. Penetrating, damaging. The gash is deep and blood spurts out like a faucet. At this blow, its visible the agony he's experiencing, and I recoil at my own aggression.
With this, he screams with anguish and hugs his waist. I am dangerously close to him. Before I have time to think, his hand shoots out with distressing speed and grasps my sword by the blade. The edges cut deep into his palm as he tightens his grip and it enters through his skin; red drips down the blade. Shocked, I am frozen, unable to move. A devious smile spreads across his blood reddened lips as he wrenches the weapon from my grasp and I jerk forward in the act, bringing me alarmingly close to him. So close, I hear his dog-like panting.
Solidified from fear and anticipation for what was to happen next, the wolf seizes the opportunity to wrap his fist around a lock of my hair and yanks me closer. My breath turns cold and ragged. I cry out in pain as he pulls me to him, with my back pressing against his chest with the blade of my own sword to my throat. He takes his other hand and it makes me want to cringe as he licks the blood streaming from his fingers. Slowly, painfully slowly. Drinking in the taste of near victory and my pain before he ends it once and for all. Next, he bends his head awkwardly, and purposely to make me squirm, licks the scarlet substance from my throat. I feel his wet tongue and his deceitful grin. I know he will finish me off when he's done.
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