Chapter 2: The Hunter and the Hunted
Kross wondered dejectedly through the mid-night streets, reflecting on just how useless his day had been. Thirty-two names and addresses that had proved to be nothing more than thirty-two wasted trips. The only thing he had discerned amongst the victims was the fact that there was absolutely no tying link; Old man, young men, women, children, military, civilian, it didn't matter who or what they were. The further he delved into it the more senseless the case became, and the more senseless it became the more foreboding the image in his mind became.
The roar of a passing auto brought him out of his introspective melancholy and he guided himself along the sidewalk, wondering whether he should return to HQ or just go on home. The cool night air felt refreshing on his face however, and he resolved to spend at least a few more minutes wondering the streets. Not a soul was out this late at night which gave him the empowering feeling of being the last person on the planet; pushing the childish delusion out of mind he continued to walk aimlessly in the general direction of Central HQ, or at least what he thought was the right direction.
Kross shifted his blindfold slightly as he walked, allowing his mind to tread anywhere but his infuriating assignment. The breeze rustled his coat gently and he shifted his weight onto his good leg before hobbling closer to the wall. Leaning against the building exterior, Kross ran his hand along the smooth cold stone surface in an attempt to figure out just where he was. What he found didn't tell him where he was, however, it sent him in the right direction.
"Blood?" Kross muttered, working the thick sticky liquid between his thumb and forefinger. His investigation had gone no further when a heavy thump met his well honed ears, like a bag of potatoes being dropped to the ground.
He hobbled around the corner, vaguely aware that he was stepping into an elongated alley, and proceeded towards the source of the disturbance. The smell of fresh blood was heavy in the air and he had the distinct feeling that, if he could see, he would be disgusted with the scene before him. Kross could hear and feel his feet traverse copious puddles of the crimson substance until finally his good left leg bumped into the thing he was searching for: a corpse.
Crouching low over the dead body, a quick examination showed him that it was completely decimated. The torso and limbs were shredded to blood drenched ribbons of meat and the head had bee completely twisted around on the neck. It was obvious that the killing had been slow, brutal, and recent; the question remained, where was the killer? His only companion was silence; otherwise, he was completely alone with the newest victim.
There was a disturbance in the air behind him, but the silence remained un-broken. Kross's reaction was quick and precise; he brought his cane up and behind his head. The sound of steel on steel resounded off of the blood drenched walls as Kross intercepted the powerful blow from his knife wielding assailant.
"Amusing…" The attacker said casually, his voice deep and threatening, "that a blind gimp like you could actually pose a threat. You shouldn't have come here Alchemist!"
"Ha! I agree; I knew when I woke up that this was just going to be one of those days." Kross replied, struggling to hold the deadly blade away from his neck; a warm liquid dripped off the knife and onto his exposed skin. He knew that it was blood, most likely the blood of the desecrated person before him.
The blind alchemist exploded into action, swinging his stiff right leg backwards like a club as he sent himself forward in a skillful front flip. His foot connected with the bottom chin of his assailant, but the knife wielding man flipped backwards expertly, landing in a low crouch with his blade held at the ready. Though he couldn't see it, Kross knew the man was smiling.
Again the man rushed forward, knife held low and prepared to pierce the Alchemist's heart. Kross jumped backwards out of arm reach; the killer stepped forward quickly, slashing horizontally for his prey's throat. Abandoning his cane, Kross ducked low and to the side, dragging his leg behind him as dead weight for but a moment before sweeping it across in an attempt to trip his opponent. The killer anticipated the attack and flipped easily over it, rebounding acrobatically off of the wall and back towards the blind man he was intent on killing.
Kross performed an acrobatic back handspring, barely avoiding the attack. Landing perfectly on his good leg, he immediately leapt backwards as a massive spike blasted from the wall on his right; he would have been skewered had he been a split second slower. An unpleasant quiet descended upon the two, pierced only by the steady sound of the killer's feet upon the ground as he walked calmly forward.
"How intriguing; you're able to sense a change in alchemic energies and thus anticipate any change I make in an object." The demented man commented with a slight laugh, "You're most interesting prey indeed."
"Prey eh? Guess that makes you the hunter then?" answered Kross with a quizzical tilt of his head.
The man's reply came in the form of a wave of stone spikes jutting jaggedly from the ground flowing through the enclosed alley directly towards his self proclaimed "prey". Kross jumped backwards and swung his arm wide; one of the two different transmutation circles emblazoned upon the palm of his glove began glowing brilliantly as a deadly stone spike exploded from the place he had been standing. There was a strange whooshing sound followed by the joyous symphony of crumbling stone as the spike imploded in upon itself.
Kross smiled calmly; he had altered oxygen in the air, lowering the density of a select space of molecules causing a pressure deficit. The surrounding oxygen had rushed in, rather violently, to equalize that deficit resulting in "explosive recompression" with the end result being enough force to crush anything unlucky enough to be caught within. Simplicity in itself, though the technique along with one other had managed to earn him his namesake: The Air Raid Alchemist.
Immediately as his feet touched the ground, the transmutation circle on the back side of his glove began to glow. Again he swung his arm wide, but this time the result was staggeringly different; a nearly invisible blade of wind lashed out, soaring the length of the alley way and slicing through each of the massive spikes neatly. The killer fell gracefully to one knee and allowed the attack to pass harmlessly over head; without hesitation he launched himself forward, through the collapsing debris of the stone spikes he had created and straight towards Kross.
The Alchemist didn't have time react before the killer rammed his fist forcefully into blind man's face. Kross slammed painfully into the ruined wall, his bad leg buckling violently from his awkward landing. The next thing he knew the killer rammed his broad knee into his chest; Kross collapsed to the ground, holding his injured stomach and struggling for air. Lifting him like a rag doll from the ground, the killer hurled him into the opposite wall with enough force that the Alchemist bounced off of the hard stone surface.
He was caught in mid-air by the killer's foot, sending him flying right back into the wall. Sliding slowly down the vertical surface, Kross staggered to remain standing up right; another blow to his now unguarded face sent him to the ground however. He could barely believe how quickly the fight had become one sided. The killer stepped roughly on the side of his head, smearing his face in the blood that stained the entire alley, even more so now that the body had been impaled upon one of the spikes.
Again Kross was lifted from the ground and positioned against the wall; the killer threw punch after punch into his chest, preventing him from collapsing to the ground with sheer brutality. Finally the sadistic killer allowed his opponent to slink slowly to the ground; Kross pushed himself into a sitting position with his back against the wall and his face sunk into his chest. A weary and pained smile transfixed his face as he sat there, laboring to breath.
"Hahaha! Just when I was starting to enjoy myself your frail little body goes and gives up on you." His assailant said, standing above him with a no doubt satisfied smile and crimson stained knife in hand, "I can't complain though; thanks to you I'm even closer to having all the ingredients I need." Suddenly, his entire demeanor changed; he bent forward and his breathing grew heavier, the sound of his fist clenching was obvious in the now silent night, "Then… I can finally…"
"You know… you talk too much." Kross said at last, activating the transmutation circle that he had drawn in the blood upon the wall. A thin pike lanced forward, skewering the killer and sending him flying into the opposite wall; his feet dangled limply several feet above the ground as he hung there, impaled through the chest. Blood spewed from the man's mouth as he gritted his teeth in pain laboring to extricate himself from the lethal stone spear lodged in his chest as Kross continued, "I know this may sound cliché, but if your going to kill someone, don't stand there reciting a monologue to yourself. It's just bad manners."
Kross forced himself painfully to his feet, forcing the roaring pain in his leg to subside. Ambling slowly across the now uneven ground, He struggled to pick his cane up. Finally he emerged from the alley, leaning heavily upon his cane as he stumbled into the street. His breathing was heavy and his muscles were screaming a million promises of pain to come, but he continued on, fighting his way through the dark and noiseless world. Halfway across the street, Kross's right leg collapsed under the strain and he fell headlong forward.
He lay there on the cold hard road, head tilted to the left as he shoulders shook violently with every painful wretch. The copper taste of blood filled his mouth as he coughed and a slow smile spread across his face. Habitually, he stroked the head of his cane weakly, shoulders finally rising and falling in time with his heavy breathing.
"I think that went well; at least I made a new friend." He muttered as his mind plummeted downward into the dark void that his life had always been, "How… lovely."