Ch. 20

He sat down and I watched. He slid the knives into their respective slits in the finger-encasements until he heard them click.

Finally, he picked it up, shook it to make sure the blades didn't come out, and handed it to me.

"Really? For me?"

"Yeah…no, kid, I made it for me.", he said sarcastically. "Put it on. It's yours."

I did as he asked, and the glove fit onto my hand perfectly. He'd seemed to know that I didn't like it when gloves were tight in-between my fingers, so he'd made sure that the spots between my fingers were a little bit looser than they would be on a normal glove.

I moved my hand, and the blades shined in what little light there was. I suddenly remembered his theme song, not the song the children sang, but the actual track from the movie that was his theme. I always liked that song; it was homey to me in a way.

I curled my fingers, and the blades followed my fingertips. I rubbed the blades together, slowly at first, but then as I grew used to the motion I scraped them against each other faster until I grew bored and stopped.

I thought for a second, and then this evil grin appeared on my face, and my eyes shined excitedly. I brandished my claws, and slashed ineptly at him. His eyes widened ever so slightly, and then went back to their normal size.

"You wanna play, don't you?", he chuckled, getting up and brandishing his own claws.

I growled, and then tackled him, stabbing him with all four of my knives in his stomach.

The reason for my acting this way: I was so excited. Not only did he give me a glove, but he'd given me one that he'd made, while I watched, and the fact that he'd done all that for me proved to me that he liked me! I didn't know if he liked me as a friend or something more, but the fact that he liked me period was enough to get me excited like this.

He made no sound; but he smiled and sliced my arm. Surprisingly, I felt no pain; maybe noone felt pain here, or it was the adrenaline going through me right now that killed the pain.

He hit me, and I toppled backwards a few feet.

I tackled him, not enough to make him fall backwards, but enough to force him back a few feet.

I stabbed his chest, stomach, and gut in very quick succession: no hesitation, stab, pull out, stab, pull out, stab, pull out. Then I planted my index and middle finger blades in his eyes, one each respectively. I waited, just to see what he would do with my knives lodged into his eyes.

He waited a few seconds, too, and there was that silent expectation for the other to do something. But when he realized that I was waiting for him to do something, he smiled, baring his teeth, and grabbed my wrist and pulled my blades out from his eyes. Surprisingly, no blood appeared anywhere on his body, like I hadn't even touched him. His eyes were perfectly okay, and were sparkling in reaction to what had just happened.

He grabbed me by the neck and slammed me against the nearest wall, which was covered with pipes. It hurt.

But despite the pain, I clenched my teeth and stabbed his heart.

He had no reaction other than to smile and say, "It doesn't hurt, honey.", and his expression changed from smiling to determined. He started to move, but I used my knives imbedded in his heart and my other hand pressed against his chest to move him just a little bit away from me. I needed to catch my breath. I hadn't worked out like this in a long time.

He moved just a little bit, and let me breathe. Then I used my hand/claws to push him farther back and used my legs to knock out his legs from underneath him. Of course, I wasn't strong enough to do that, but his legs did bend a little bit and I used my claws (I'd removed my claws from his heart) to punch him down to the ground.

I didn't know why he was letting me win so easily. I knew I wasn't strong enough to beat him if he wanted to win.

But…he was letting me win. Why?