Bound chains of bamboo whirled through the calm, misty air. Confusion and unpredicted movements jumped all over like a liberated can of fleas looking for a new home to cuddle themselves into. The team of four teenagers was spread out now, thin, flexible beams of green chasing after them like wild ropes, lassoing against the vertical surface they made. Daggers were placed in their mouths, holding them in determination, blasting smoke against the roofed afternoon. Sounds of sharp, musical notes filled the area with a tone of death, commanding the landscape, the air, the ground – everything.
Sounds of metal pricks against wooden, tight bodies thudded against the astray midnight air. Soon, three of them found themselves trapped in a cage of thin green, up against differential surfaces that dug into their backs uncomfortably. Fingers of cane snapped around them, alive as they rattled threateningly against any movement of resistance. Zack's protests and angry cries of being locked in a grassy hold drowned the sounds of crawling mist and high pitched music. Damn, I got caught! Derek thought with tight ground teeth that showed themselves proudly. Narrowed eyes of handsome anger struggled with fair shoulders and biceps as the shroud of bamboo trembled with him, alive with certain anger. Misty fingers smothered his growing perspiration. His straight black hair did not even have the least bit comfort at this point.
Kawari, being the only one not caught rushed through the misty grounds. The freezing arctic coldness gripped his forelegs, as if begging him to stop, commanding him away from mobility. His legs did not follow, his arms continued to sway eagerly as his feet shuffled. The blue hair fluttered in angry, irritated mist as eyes narrowed towards the misty silhouette ahead. Bamboo burst from the cloud of periwinkle flake, thin, undernourished arms scrawny as their bones rattled unhealthily, eagerness of their own trying to overtake Kawari. Dodging each one skillfully, as if he had done it a million times, the blue-haired teenager stumbled once or twice as the limbs of green missed him by a long shot. The imprecise targeting continued, and the distance between the two sides diminished, slowly but surely.
His confident, rolled sleeves hung at his elbows as they followed their respective forearms, swaying through the mist, numbed with motivation. The flute's piercing cry seemed to come to an ear-piercing screech. It caused winced eyes in random places of the blinding mist. Kawari stumbled at the sudden feedback noise, and turned unfortunate. Just like they had planned, the scrawny ropes of bamboo got to him and slammed him against the body of a tree, as if trying to mix the two together. Kawari cried out from the force and pressure, the bamboo rattling as they stumbled as well from the impact. They held him surely, protruding, prickly blades stabbing into him and leaking out reddish pools. Coldness of metal was washed away with hot blood as Kawari was forced to a wince.
The bamboos linked to a cloud of baby blue mist, limbs that were forgotten to be eaten by a fearsome, loafing panda. The puffs of periwinkle demise brushed away, as if commanded to reveal against its will. The silhouette became a figure – more than a figure, more like a person, if you could call her that. Her eyes were slumped on her face like pale, white eggs. A drilled, miniscule hole of darkness was hired as her eye pupil, baldness against her cool skin, her disgusting, sickening skin. It discolored a grotesque green, layers upon layers of it like a hardened goblin, for she did not have skin – she donned empty, hollow bamboos. Skeletal fingers played a green, caned flute in a dance to the music it itself created. Her lips were like instruments – an empty trumpet ready to blow. Her thin, without muscle arms were undernourished, as if her nonexistent teeth had not chewed, bitten, or breathed in anything for years except air. "My bamboo is as hard as brick and bound by a strong material I myself make with this body," she spoke in a human voice that just didn't fit her, somehow continuing to play the flute as her lips moved to form words. "It can't be broken even if two gorillas pull on both ends. Meaning that you cannot break it even if you tried."
"Oh?" Kawari asked, interest piqued. He smiled, despite his several new wounds all over random places in his chest and abdominals. Pain was overrated at this point. His breathing became just a tiny bit heavier, barely noticeable. "Is that so?" he asked. The flute continued its threatening opera, a solo that never ended as long as the opponent willed it to be. "However, I have some tricks of my own," Kawari told confidently as he brought a weak hand to the limbs of seemingly weak bamboo. For a split second, the opponent could've sworn she saw a glow of silver silhouetting his fingers. Then, after that split second, the hand came down, and surprisingly enough – cut the bamboo limbs off! Oh, how wide the egg white eyes of the opponent stammered, how her heart skipped a beat and her lips skipping a note, forgetting it from her mind! Forced to take a gasp, the enemy was overwhelmed, not believing what she saw. How did he manage to do it? she thought as she continued blowing nervous breaths into her instrument.
The metal blades still stuck inside Kawari's body, limp limbs short and stubby hanging from their base and outside his body, the blue haired boy dropped to his feet and stumbled a bit. It was hard to adjust after a while. The blades seared pain every time he moved his feet. But it didn't matter to him; he would not let such a thing stop him. "I see," the bamboo girl preached. "So you're strong. How admirable," she began again, multitasking the flute all the while. "However, are you able to pose a challenge to someone like me?" Her musical notes intensified to off the charts, piercing to the ears, almost one-fifty decibels in measure.
Suddenly, from the ground beneath her feet emerged a thousand bamboo limbs, spiraling together like hungry snakes, a tornado of green whirling through the misty air, beating and twirling the periwinkle clouds like a vacuum. Blades were held inside, ready to kill as Kawari didn't seem to make a movement of resistance. The hurricane of green blew away the blue mist and gave sight of what was going on to Derek and his teammates spread out in the forest, still tied up. Derek gasped sharply and shortly as he saw the swirls of olive envelop his new teammate in a wormhole of jade. "Kawari!" Derek cried out in protest. The arms holding the black-haired boy threatened once more. I have to do something, Derek told himself. I can't just lay here and do nothing! I'm not like that!
Show no emotion, he remembered parental words. As if on cue, he calmed. Eyes narrowed as they hid away in secretion under tanned eyelids.
"Be quiet!" the feminine, unnatural voice of the enemy demanded. The bamboo tightened around him, as if choking his body away from all air. Derek's face did not react, pretending as if nothing were happening. The enemy scoffed. "Trying to act tough," she commented.
The coffin of plant suddenly rumbled, taking the opponent's attention away from the seventeen year old black haired boy and towards the blue haired one. The limbs of green rumbled uneasily, as if they were about to burst. They shuffled, as if ready to hurl, a loud confusion from within, something inside it just too eager to escape the dark green prison. With a blistering cry and intense energy cylinder after cylinder of the swirling plants flew through the air, now limp and powerless. Only when they were combined did they pose a threat. The flying canisters of nature revealed the angry face of Kawari and the slit wounds on his body. Wasting no time, Kawari's arm suddenly grew ten times larger – not in width, but in length ten times over in the downpour of the color lime, clattering sounds all around. He grew fifteen elbows, one could swear, and fifteen more biceps. The long, snake-like arm rushed through the mist and felt its coolness all over its impressive length, wowing faces all over. The palm was open in plead, targeting the bamboo female. The long distance enemy jumped away just in time to dodge it, forced to stop her chorus of glorious screeches. "You're not fast enough to defeat me."
Derek watched with confident eyes, slowly fading into the background, replacing no one as a prisoner of the bamboo straps, leaving them behind as he sunk into the tree's body eerily. The bamboo wondered where he had suddenly gone, curious and dumbfounded. The enemy noticed immediately with certain automaticity. Her stare widened and returned to Kawari, who pulled the blades out of his body eagerly and weakly. He cried out as each one came out, as if ripping off a band-aid, but instead, making uses for new ones. His heavy breathing became heavier after each one, as if they aided him in his suffocation. "No matter," the enemy spoke, referring to Derek's sudden absence. "I'll end this now."
"I won't let you!" Kawari objected. His arm grew ten times larger again and soared through the air, tightening around her body. She didn't care. If she was to avoid it she would have to stop playing the flute, and at this rate, she couldn't risk it. The mist grew thicker and thicker, innocent periwinkles churning into hellish purples. Bamboo soared from the air and tightly snaked around Kawari's other, weaker arm. He couldn't break it right now. He had to focus on breaking her. Damn, it's harder than I thought, she thought as the grip was about to strengthen around her. The hand was huge now, wrapped around her entire body. Got to get away… she tried to take a step back, but something was stopping her. It seemed like her feet had been glued to the floor as she felt her toes and such sink downward to the floor, as if the ground turned to quicksand, calling her caution and panic outward from within her. In reality, outlines of black surrounded her feet and dragged her in, a sign of another type of quicksand called by Derek. I can't move! What the hell did that boy do!?
The enlarged fingernails cracker into her back, sediments of green and yellow falling to the floor. There was no pain, just danger. Damn it, I'll get crushed! I have to kill him, now! More cracking took place. Sediments fell helplessly due to the evilness of gravity. Oh, how it begged to disagree with humanity ever second of its eternal life! Pressure built. Tension rose. And then finally, finally… gasps and cries echoed.
Both sides broke down completely, the snaking bamboo around Kawari bent his arm horridly, breaking his wrist as well as he gave a cry of immense pain, the sound of bone cracking sickeningly inside his mind. His arm pressurized as well, and killed the bamboo girl, crushing her into many, many pieces in a drumlin on the ground. The lasso of green fell limp to the floor, powerless now, and Kawari dropped to his knees. The mist cleared and the bamboo cages lifted. Dylan was released and so was Zack. The flute stopped, the innocent instrument lying by the pile of faded life, wishing for those same pairs of lips to kiss it once more, to blow into it passionately and make beautiful music with it. Oh, how it lusted for another pair of lips.
"Kawari-san!" Dylan cried innocently and childishly. The only thing he cared for was kindness, and there was a deeper reason behind it that you could imagine, too. "Are you okay?" he asked with worried, overprotective eyes that glimmered in its royal greenness, looking nauseously at the arm bent horridly and unnaturally, an alien limb that just didn't seem to belong.
"It's okay," Kawari insisted, wincing in pain as he got up to his feet. Derek rose from the ground in a dark outline, looking all calm and cool. He sighed as the sun returned and exposed itself, killing off the rival mist into forgotten wisps of an unwanted, unneeded memory. He cried out in pain once more as he was about to fall to his knees again.
"But your arm…" Dylan wouldn't give up. "It's bent." The green-eyed boy just wouldn't stop.
"I said its okay!" Kawari demanded a bit too meanly. Dylan slumped, shocked as he brought his eyes to the floor apologetically, ashamed. Zack came over and put an arm on Dylan's shoulder, a sympathetic look painted over his face. Dylan forced a smile back.
"Kawari…" he muttered sadly to himself. The sun regained its hot warmness and began to become lazy once more, forcing the people below to carry it on their shoulders. Perspiration became warm once again.
"We shouldn't linger around," Derek said, totally disregarding the broken arm of Kawari. "Be prepared if another enemy comes." Derek took a second's glance at the pile of crusted and crushed sediments. It was hard to believe that such a thing used to be alive. That guy's instinct to kill…Derek thought, sighing as he brought his eyes away. Was he unable to look at it any longer, or was he just tired of watching an idle pyramid of a dusted memory?
Kawari brought his other arm to its normal length and put it on his bicep. It hurt to even touch it – that was easy to figure out by his indistinctive cries of pain. A light glow like a tiny sun emitted from the slits between fingers as he fingered his skin down to his elbow, and then his wrist. The glow of white was eerie yet hopeful, like an angel's pure and holy smile, the faint glow of its innocent, sinless halo. Bones cracked as they repaired themselves within his arm, the sound of calcium piercing to the warming air. The midnight cold had found its way back on the other side of the world – where it belonged. Now, it was the sun's job to bring back the warmth to the land, before all plant life died and withered away into nothingness due to the intense, crescent cold that sliced crops like a grim reaper's bloodstained scythe. His arm twisted back into normality, the naturalness returning to it slowly but surely as the light's slight, holy hum intensified.
"Kawari!" Derek called out, putting a mean frown on his face.
"It's okay," Kawari insisted. "I can heal," he informed them. He relieved worries with that one sentence.
Heal? Dylan begged to differ. Something was fishy. Not even the highest level of healing can repair a broken bone, Dylan thought. I should know…
That glow… Derek thought as he watched the fingers delicately run down the blue haired boy's arm. He didn't finish the thought in his mind, but instead, brought a hand to his bandaged chest, feeling the black fabric and bringing back memories of living hell.
PoVS
The sun was hot on everyone's shoulders. The clouds did not seem to desire movement. They hung in the air, high above and safe, watching the scene as it slowly progressed. The puffy, white audience wanted to enjoy this with a bag of yellow puffs – a bag of popcorn. The sun made angry complaints of golden, hot rays as the plump, obese and untaxed customers covered its distant sight. "What's wrong?" the discolored grey opponent asked. A blank smirk grew on his lips. He twirled the axe of love between his fingers like an Asian girl did with a mechanical pencil, but much more skillfully. "Are you waiting for me to attack so that you can observe me fight?" he asked about the suspense that kept the audience waiting. It was obvious that this one was the cloud pleaser, working with the audience to please them. A good skill for his resume indeed.
"No," Walter said bluntly and carelessly. He had no intentions of fooling around in this fight. "I'm just thinking of what a waste of a challenge you could be," Walter half-lied. Narrowed eyes grew on both sides as they shifted their feet in preparation.
The enemy scoffed. "You'll be the first to help me pay my debt of pain," he said confusedly. "I've been selfish and received too much of it. Now, it's my turn to give some back," he explained. Things suddenly became a bit clearer. However, curiosity pushed it onward. Walter seemed to scoff away his words, claiming it meaningless.
Suddenly, Eric jumped from the heads of trees invisibly, floating in the air and defying gravity. He smiled confidently as he brought his fingers, as if he were about to snap them in applause to a very, very bad poet, being the only one in the audience. The one man crowd snapped his fingers intensively, one for good luck. A burst of flames came out in a red-orange burst like a torrential rush of fruit punch. The sweet soda pop ruptured at the ground, blistering flames emitting like grounded clouds with the lowest dew point imaginable. The huge screams of blazing fire enveloped the enemy, who did not seem to make an effort to get away as the flames neared. He could've dodged it, but he didn't. Why?
Flames cackled evilly. Eric remained in the air, waiting as he watched the hot redness spill onto his face, cracking, enlarged embers shining in his eyes. His dark features watched tensely, waiting for the final reaction. Hot, bursting flames lit up Walter's face as well. He could almost feel the burning hisses on top of his face, covering him like an invisible mask, a pointless tool. The fire slowly burned away into flaming wisps and then finally, hot, white and brown smoke. The hissing clouds rose up in the air; more opposites reminding Eric that they just wanted someone to listen to – someone to guide them. Then, suddenly, a sign of vengeance, the axe of love screeched outward in a whirl of ironic hate. The swirling axe acted like a shrieking disk as it sliced upward, catching Eric in midair. The Fire and Water Minors gasped sharply, taking in surprised breaths. Then, from the trees rustled another sound once more.
A mouth breathed in a confident deep air. Then, churning it spit it out in the form of rock – a lengthy, impressive pillar of rock. The shooting missile of brown earth caught the slicing axe at the middle of its body. Any normal person would have believed that after such a hit of such high potential, the axe would have knocked it over. However, it hadn't. The axe continued to spin like a crazy roulette machine, screeching sparks of friction flying outward as the rocky exterior tried hard to hit more against it. It was an equal fight, but at least it stopped the axe's direction of attacking Eric. Sounds of scissors seemed to fill the afternoon air.
Gravity finally getting to him, Eric jumped onto the rocky body of the pillar, giving Mark his gratitude to his position inside the trees, waiting. Then, with confidence and energy, Eric jumped off, and flipped in the air as he landed on Walter's side. The smoke was still pouring aimlessly into the sky as the jump made a heavy clatter against Eric's shoes. "He's not dead yet," Walter told him.
"Yeah," Eric agreed. They both did not even glance at each other as they exchanged words for seconds. They just stared at the cackling, evil laughs of the burning flames, as if they were made by an old, goblin-green witch with the slanted, pointy hat as she brewed a frothy mixture inside a pitch-black cauldron, white smoke of eeriness pouring out like a mist waiting to explode.
"I'm not done yet!" Mark jumped from the trees and into the air, just like Eric had. Eric gasped. He came out too quickly! He should've thought more before he did that! Eric thought in despair, thinking of what might happen as the white smoke cleared, giving sight to a dark silhouette against the ironic mushroom smoke. It was too late now. Any plans that could've been made were no use now. Nothing could reverse time.
The axe flew back from the rock pillar as the stony column deteriorated, breaking into rocky fragments and falling to the floor like a five second rain. White smoke hissed hotly against Mark's all ready sweaty and hot cheeks. Controlling mud and dirt, Mark made curvy sections of them whirl around the inner area behind the smoke, whizzing around like crazy cars on the street just waiting for an accident. They rushed drunkenly, hitting random places and causing more smoke to pile up, more gray smoke that would get lost again.
Just as soon as the mud waves calmed, the love axe burst out from the brownness once again, carrying some caked mush on its blade. It whizzed its own speed through the air, and Mark knew he had to defend himself. No earth pillar would come from the foresting trees again. Bringing his arms to his face, crossing them protectively, Mark began to emit a rocky armor, an exterior that would guard him – hopefully.
Skin turned to stone temporarily, his whole body and clothes becoming solid and discolored. The waves of wind used to flutter his clothes, but now, they were shielded and knocked away by them. Grayness in the sky fell straight down with immense kinetic and potential energy, just waiting for the axe to come to it. And the axe did, gladly following command.
The axe and Minor met, and the handle of the whirling one luckily hit him on the back of his neck as the whizzing disk bypassed him, still swirling into the air. It had got it directly. It was the weak spot of the armor, and the rocky layer soon peeled off into stone hail. Pellets fell like dropped pebbles, useless ones heavens didn't need and commanded their angels to drop them off for them – with gratitude, of course. Then, as soon as the armor fell all away, the color came back to Mark's body, and his eyes, being closed and unnoticing, showed his unconsciousness, and replaced it with extreme alert in Eric and Walter's eyes. He slowly plummeted down, his body just waiting for its… death? It was all up to the enemy now, and with his thirst for paying off his debt of pain, what would any regular person think he would do?