Day 1
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*Click
When the truth is found
To be lies
And all the joy
Within you dies
Don't you want somebody to love
Don't you need somebody to love
Wouldn't you love somebody to love
You better find somebody to love, love
When the garden flowers
Baby, are dead, yes
And your mind, your mind
Is so full of red
Don't you want somebody to love
Don't you need somebody to love
Wouldn't you love somebody to love
You better find somebody to love
Your eyes, I say your eyes
May look like his
Yeah, but in your head, baby
I'm afraid you don't know where it is
Don't you want somebody to love
Don't you need somebody to love
Wouldn't you love somebody to... *SLAM
"Fecking damnit, I forgot to turn off the alarm. Today's suuuuunday!" Michael moaned.
Michael rolled off his futon and staggered to his feet, grumbling and cussing the whole way. It was the same routine of bathroom, coffee, drooling, hot cereal, and then finally landing at the PC. It took him several sips of coffee before he comprehended the news on his monitor, and he choked coffee when he did.
"No fecking way!" Michael exclaimed.
He immediately got on the chat to spread the news, excitement welling up inside him. Luckily Alistair was online right in the nick of time.
"Dude! You are never going to believe this shit in a million years!" Michael typed.
"What what?!" Alistair messaged.
"They finally released Nekopara Extra and you can buy it on Steam!" Michael typed furiously.
"-_- Seriously? I told you about that a month ago. /me Facepalms" Alistair messaged.
...
"Well shit... way to be a buzzkill." Michael muttered.
So Michael spent a longer than normal time waking up before going out and doing the things he had planned that Sunday. Since there were no classes he was free to get some chores done, such as fix the leaking radiator hose in his precious car or buying some groceries.
Meanwhile, Searraigh found herself standing in the middle of what she thought was a strange black stone road. She had just arrived on earth and was looking around in amazement taking in all the sights.
"What an incredibly strange looking world. It's hot too, like the great dune deserts back home." Searraigh muttered in wonder.
As she stood there, a strange rumbling noise grew louder behind her. She turned to look, and immediately jumped while flapping her wings to dodge the object careening straight towards her. As it passed by it made a loud HOOOOOOOOoooooooooonnnnnnkkkkk sound, and the person inside it cussed at her. She was witnessing for the first time something that didn't exist in her world. An automobile. The car rounded the bend in the street and faded from view, and was followed by several more. The smell of exhaust tickled her nose unpleasantly.
"What in the world! If I had been human then that metal box would've hit me!" Searraigh thought.
"You alright lady?" A voice asked.
Searraigh turned and looked down, and saw a little girl riding another metal contraption. A bicycle, although Searraigh had no idea what it was. She smiled instantly at the sight of such a cute little girl.
"Oh dearie thank you for asking. I'm perfectly fine." Searraigh said nicely.
"My mom says people shouldn't stand in the street like that. You should cross at the crosswalk and look both ways!" The little girl said knowingly.
As the little girl spoke, she pointed at the intersection where the crosswalk was.
"Thank you sweetheart. I must embark on my quest now, so fare thee well." Searraigh said, smiling.
The little girl giggled as she rode her bicycle away. Searraigh walked over to the crosswalk and looked both ways, and managed to get across when the motorists were nice enough to stop for her and let her cross.
Michael found himself in the local Wal-Mart parking lot where he was changing the lower radiator hose and heater hose on his car. It was a messy and miserable job which ate up a bunch of his time, and covered him in dirty grease stains. Several people walked by and gawked at the sight, but nobody bothered him until one old grizzled man strolled by.
"Wha'cha doing there sonny? Blow a radiator hose?" The old man asked.
Michael straightened from his stooped over position under the hood and turned to answer.
"No sir. My apartment complex won't let me work on my car, and these 40 year old hoses were just all worn out and leaking." Michael explained.
The old man peered into the engine compartment and whistled low and long.
"Holee sheet. Damn son, that's a 440 big block. And in a Plymouth Duster to boot?! What year is this thing?" The old man asked.
"1971, and you will never find a factory 440 big block in any A body of this year." Michael explained, smiling proudly.
"Build er yourself?" The old man asked.
"Yes sir! It's a low mileage long block out of a motorhome, and it's tied to a NP435 4 speed manual I robbed from a wrecked dodge pickup. It mates well with the tall gears I have in the rear end, and it's got overdrive for freeway cruising." Michael said.
The old man looked the engine compartment over and scrutinized the fabrication and handiwork. Some of the welds weren't perfect, but they were genuine and created by someone who cared enough to sweat blood and hard work.
"Yeh know... I worked the Plymouth factory line in St. Louis back in the 70's. To see one of these old girls still running makes my day!" The old man said, chuckling.
His chuckles turned to pleased laughter, and then outright glee as he looked the car over stem to stern. It was in mint condition, with not even a tear in the headliner or scratch in the paint.
"I'll give ya 20 grand for it." The old man offered.
Just like that, the strange old man offered him hard money out of the blue. Michael shook his head.
"Sorry I can't do it." Michael refused.
"How bout 25 grand? Ya gotta admit it's a good chunk o change." The old man offered.
"No joke. That's more money than I've ever had in my life." Michael thought.
"I don't mean to be unreasonable sir, but I've simply put too much effort in this car to part with it at any price. I built it one summer just before I started college because I needed a car, and I built it up from a rolling chassis." Michael explained.
"Ya, figured as much. Well at least take it to the car show after Halloween and show er to folks. This car deserves to be seen and appreciated fer what it is." The old man encouraged.
After that the old man wandered off into the Wal-Mart, and Michael was left to work on his radiator hose in solitude.
Searraigh wandered around the streets in a circular pattern while trying to get her bearings. Multiple times she stopped people on the street to ask questions, and every time they either blew her off as a nutcase wearing a Halloween costume too early or ignored her completely.
"I wonder what this Halloween is, and why they think I'm wearing a costume. At least I should count my blessings that they speak the common tongue. It would be exceedingly difficult to ask for sex if Michael Collins didn't." Searraigh thought.
She looked out of place, and honestly somewhat crazy with her sword on her belt. Round and round she went going person to person until she finally came across an older lady resting at a park bench. She was wearing formal business attire and was reading a wad of papers when Searraigh walked up to her.
"Excuse me, have you seen this man before?" Searraigh asked.
She held up the fairth of Michael so the lady could see it.
"No." The businesswoman said flatly.
"... but you haven't even raised your eyes to look!" Searraigh observed.
Annoyed, the businesswoman raised her eyes and glanced at the picture briefly.
"Still no." The businesswoman repeated.
"Nyyyyrg! How hard is it to find one mere man in a city? Surely this place doesn't stretch on to the world's end!" Searraigh growled, frustrated.
"If that man is missing then maybe you should go to the police." The businesswoman said, nonchalantly.
"Where may I find these... police?" Searraigh asked.
"Two blocks down and three to the right." The businesswoman said, uncaring.
The businesswoman pointed as she spoke.
"Many thanks. Your assistance will not be forgotten." Searraigh said.
Searraigh walked down the street that the businesswoman had indicated. At long last the woman looked up from her papers long enough to focus her eyes on Searraigh as she walked away.
"That woman has wings and a tail? And horns? What is this... Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas?" The businesswoman muttered.
Searraigh walked down the sidewalks and crossed the streets until she found a large building that said POLICE DEPARTMENT on the side. She walked in the door and made her way to the front desk, and immediately caught the attention of the officer manning it. He straightened in his chair and gulped quietly, eyes raking across Searraigh's voluptuous body several times.
"Can I help you miss?" The policeman asked.
"Yes, I was told you could assist me in my search for this man." Searraigh said.
She handed over the fairth to the officer, and he looked it over.
"How long has he been missing?" The policeman queried.
"He is not missing per se, for I have yet to find him in the first place. All I know is he resides somewhere within this land." Searraigh explained.
"Why are you looking for him then?" The policeman interrogated, suspicious.
"He is my target. I must find him and make him my prisoner before my enemies do." Searraigh said firmly.
The policeman sat straight as an arrow in his seat when she said that, and he looked her over again. All he saw was a woman wearing a revealing costume and a potentially real sword at her hip, thus the alarm bells were going off in his head. His hand reached down towards the telephone at his desk.
"I see. Well let me call someone so we can... help you." The policeman said, nervous.
The handset clicked and he brought it up to his ear, and dialed a quick four digit extension.
"I have a code 5150 at the front desk. Yes sir... yes... right." The policeman spoke.
He clicked the phone down slowly and clasped his hands together. Moments later three uniformed police officers ran out of the office on the other side of the room. Two women and one man, and they had their tasers drawn. They immediately pointed them at Searraigh and barked an order for her to put her hands on her head. The officer behind the main desk did the same. Searraigh's hand instinctually dropped her sword, her lifetime of training kicking in.
"What is this attack? I came here for assistance!" Searraigh exclaimed.
One of the officers fired her taser, and Searraigh dodged in a flash. Before the officers could recover, she drew her sword and lunged, slicing all three so fast that it was a long blur. All three fell to the ground clutching their wounds, but none of them bled even a drop. The blade Searraigh carried was the special demon realm silver sword, and it wasn't capable of killing. Rather it was meant to drain spirit energy and incapacitate it's victims. Since the blade she carried was enhanced with runes and her own demonic energy was so powerful, the women began transforming into monsters right before her eyes as they writhed on the floor. The fourth officer behind the desk was also writhing on the floor, but for a very different reason. Two wired probes were attached to his chest and he was convulsing on the floor from the accidental friendly fire.
"Oh dear, and you wanted to do that to little old me? What awful people. But these two should set it all straight now." Searraigh said seductively.
As she spoke one of the female officers was slowly standing up and looking over her own body. She had grown and shredded her own uniform, and now had green skin and horns. She had become an ogre, and was eyeing the man behind the desk with lustful eyes. Searraigh came up behind her and whispered in her ear.
"I can see it in your eyes. You desire that man and wish to make him yours. Now's your chance to get what you've always wanted." Searraigh said seductively.
"What the hell did you do to her?" The policeman cried.
"I set her free, and I gave her the life she has denied herself. You could say I uncovered her feminine side." Searraigh said, smiling devilishly.
"FEMININE!?" The policeman gawked.
Moments after saying that the newly born ogre leapt over the desk and pounced on the policeman, threw him over her shoulder, and disappeared down a hallway. Likewise the other two were in a similar situation, with the other female officer turning into a minotaur and carrying away the newly chosen policeman husband. The man was turning into an incubus. Searraigh glanced at her sword, and saw its power was greatly diminished.
"What a waste. That demonic energy was intended for Michael Collins." Sherry thought.
Before long Searraigh was standing alone, and she made her way back out the doors she had come in just minutes before.
"Perhaps I should have worded it differently. He is the target of my love, but maybe I should have said I wanted to make him a captive with my body instead of prisoner. Yes that's it, I should have said that." Searraigh thought.
She walked down the sidewalk and resumed her previous method of search, hopeful that she would find a sign before dark.
Both Michael and Searraigh went about their individual tasks for several more hours that day, not knowing just how close they were to each other. Michael was blissfully ignorant of the strange happenings around him, and Searraigh was becoming downtrodden from countless failures. As it so happened the Maoyu's spell had placed Searraigh down in the city within a half mile of Michael by chance, so they were bound to run into each other eventually. It was near dark when they finally did, when Searraigh walked into a gas station to ask the same question she had asked many times before.
"Excuse me, but have you seen this man?" Searraigh asked.
The gas station clerk looked at the fairth and shook her head.
"I don't think so." The clerk said regretfully.
Searraigh nodded and slumped her shoulders slightly. All the people who either turned her away or knew nothing was beginning to wear on her. Just as she turned to walk out another clerk called out for her to wait. Searraigh turned and looked the man over, who was a small lanky fellow of foreign origin. He had a heavy accent.
"Let me see picture." The lanky clerk requested.
Searraigh held out the fairth one more time, and the clerk looked it over. Then he looked it over again.
"I see him before. He buy lots gasoline and soda aaaaallll the time." The lanky clerk said.
"Really? He patronizes this quaint shoppe? When will he come again?" Searraigh asked excitedly.
"He nothing if not consistent. He drive old American car... eat lots gasoline. Drink lots soda too. I tell him stop drinking soda but he not listen!" The lanky clerk griped.
"You mean that guy who drives that black Duster?" The clerk asked.
"He the one. Drive big heavy American car, make lotsa noise. He big heavy American who barely fit in big American car." The lanky clerk confirmed.
"Huh. Never did see his face, but I know the car. Yeah that guy ought to be around sometime soon." The clerk said.
"He hard to miss." The lanky clerk said.
Searraigh lit up in a huge smile when she heard that, and thanked the two clerks profusely before walking out the doors. She looked around herself and surveyed the scene.
"Soon. Very soon I will find you, and when I do I will rip the loneliness from your heart and toss it away. I shall insert myself in its place, by force if need be." Searraigh thought.
So she started walking towards the crosswalk so that she could search the immediate area. In her mind surely someone would live very close to a store they frequent. A perspective born from the medieval world she came from, but she didn't know any better. As it so happened it wouldn't matter, because at that very moment Michael pulled into the gas station and went in to buy some fuel for his thirsty mopar.
Searraigh didn't even notice him until he had already paid, pumped the gas, and went in for change and beverages. When Michael stood at the cashier the lanky clerk spoke up.
"Soda no good for you. Every other day you in here buying one, and it kill you." The lanky clerk said.
"Yeah yeah. Like I really care." Michael said dismissively.
"You care if pretty woman come in here and ask for you. Pretty woman never like huge whale." The lanky clerk jabbed.
"Look pal. I pay my taxes and stay friendly with Johnny law, don't gamble, and I don't do drugs. If I want to drink a soda then I'm gonna drink a fracking soda." Michael jabbed back.
The other clerk walked out right around then and had overheard most of it.
"He's not joking. A woman did come in here asking for you." The clerk said.
"Echyeah, and monkeys might fly out of my butt!" Michael scoffed.
Michael walked out and headed for his Duster, not noticing Searraigh standing across the street on the opposite sidewalk. She had noticed him however, and had glanced down at her fairth to make sure.
"It's... him! There he is! I must catch him!" Searraigh thought.
Searraigh took a step, and had to jump back to keep from getting run over by a car. She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for traffic to clear so she could walk across the street. Once more she glanced at the fairth to make sure absolutely that he was the one she was looking for.
"Hurry! Hurry hurry! Hurry you foolish humans!" Searraigh thought impatiently.
Right around the time Searraigh had looked down at her fairth Michael spotted her. As soon as he did his eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets.
"Holy nuts... it's a cosplayer! Oh my god it's a cosplayer, she's smokin hot, and she's dressed as a succubus! I can't believe that exists here in this town!" Michael thought in amazement.
Moments after that thought, another thought occurred to him.
"The perfect woman... just standing there. Just within reach and totally out of my league. Feck feck feck!" Michael thought angrily.
He flung himself in his car and started buckling up. Michael glanced up again and noticed the woman now looking at him. Looking right at him and making eye contact. She smiled sweetly, and he looked away nervously.
"WAAAAAY fecking out of my league. Damn damn damn!" Michael thought, cursing.
He started the car and threw it in gear, and popped the parking brake. Right as he was preparing to move he noticed the woman had crossed the street and was walking across the parking lot in his general direction. He didn't realize the woman was walking straight as an arrow towards him, but then he wasn't really in the mood to look at her too much anyways. He tapped the accelerator and started rolling for the exit on the other side of the gas station opposite of the woman. Searraigh's footsteps became hurried.
"No! No no! He's escaping! Wait please I only wish... to talk... to you." Searraigh thought.
No matter how quickly she ran, she couldn't catch up to an already moving car. Michael rolled out onto the street and disappeared in a poof of exhaust smoke. Searraigh ran down the sidewalk after him, heels clicking furiously on the cement.
Michael was in a foul mood as he drove away. What he had perceived as a cosplayer lingered on his mind and drove him absolutely bonkers.
"To think a woman like that exists in this one horse town. Other towns and countries sure... those people over there in Japan are pretty wild, which is just my type. But here? Feck feck feck!" Michael cussed.
Just then he pitched his soda out the driver's side window and clenched his fists on the steering wheel hard enough to make his knuckles turn white.
"That's it, no more fecking soda for me. It's times like this when I need a beer. Still bad but at least it's an improvement!" Michael swore.
Michael drove home and parked his car. Slamming the door in frustration he stomped up the stairs to his apartment and wrenched the door open. Once inside he marched straight towards the fridge, ripped the door open, and let out a string of purple cusses when he saw he was out of beer.
"Fine. I'll walk to the corner liquor store and get a pack. I could use the exercise anyways." Michael sighed.
Michael washed up a bit and threw on a clean shirt, and then walked out to go to the combination liquor store and pawn shop.
Searraigh ended up taking flight with her succubus wings after losing sight of the Duster. Such an act was one of desperation, because she was afraid that nighttime would fall and she would lose the trail. It turns out that her desperate act finally netted her some results when she spotted the Duster parked next to a two story brick building several miles away from the gas station. It had taken her an hour, but she gleefully drifted down and landed out of sight a block away. Then she walked as casually as she could towards it, as casually as a succubus can manage anyways, and bent down to scrutinize it closely. All the markings and stickers were the same so she was rather certain it was the same car. Her nose moved closer to the door handle, and she let out a quiet squee of joy.
"Ah! At long last I have your scent!" Searraigh thought.
She exulted inside at her success, for having found his scent she could now use her most powerful tracking tool to finally run him down. Just then her thoughts were interrupted by a gruff voice to her left.
"Hey you." The voice said.
Searraigh looked up with hope filled eyes, but saw the speaker was not Michael Collins. Instead it was an elderly man sitting on a strange looking wheeled chair with an elderly woman next to him.
"Lookin to buy that car? I hope you are, because I hate that thing. Damn kids and their loud hot rods." The elderly man griped.
"I might. Who owns this?" Searraigh asked.
Her hand laid gently on the roofline and patted it. The steel of the car felt hot to her hand, having been in the sun all day.
"The guy that lives upstairs in O." The elderly man said scornfully.
Searraigh observed the expressions of the two people, and saw their bitterness. In fact their bitterness was so palatable that she didn't even need to use her advanced succubus senses. Those two people openly hated the man she was looking for.
"Michael Collins is his name, the little shit. Tried to get the landlord to throw him out but she said that he pays his rent and has the right to stay." The elderly woman grumbled.
"Maybe the fatso will buy a bicycle if he sells his car." The elderly man chuckled.
The two elderly people continued their rants to each other as Searraigh stood there in shock. Finally she had heard enough and walked towards the stairs leading up to the door with a letter O on it.
"Horrid people. Why would anyone say that about someone else, or even think it? I simply must punish them for their insolence after this." Searraigh thought.
Searraigh made her way up the stairs, and the old woman watched her go out of the corner of her eye.
"Slut." The elderly woman whispered.
"Probably the only way that blimp will ever get laid is by paying her." The elderly man whispered back.
Searraigh heard them of course, with her highly attuned succubus ears. But she paid them no mind for she had her attention on the door marked with the letter O.
She knew that the smell tickling her nose was the scent of her target. There was no doubt about it anymore. The unpleasant elderly couple had said his name and confirmed that door was his abode. Searraigh leaned against the door with her breasts squished flat and stuck her nose in the crack between the doorframe and door. She took in a deep lungful of air. And then another. Each breath she took imprinted his scent on her mind more and more.
"Fufu, you played with yourself. I can taste it. This place is filled with spirit energy." Searraigh thought.
She quickly realized the smell was old, and she knew that Michael wasn't inside. Her hand reached for the doorknob and turned it, but it was locked tight. It was just as well for she had no patience to wait for his return, so she slowly walked back down the stairs. Her eyes were partially lidded as her nose twitched over and over. Then in a trance like state she walked down the sidewalk that her nose told her Michael had traveled not long before.
"You can't escape now, not after I have smelled your fire. I will force you to share your loneliness to me, and I will have you listen to my feelings." Searraigh thought.
Michael found himself standing in the beer aisle of the liquor store, deciding what brand of swill he wanted to torture himself with. Eventually it came down to what was cheapest, and he grabbed a case of Rolling Rock off the shelf.
"Why the hell not. AVGN drinks this stuff so I might as well try it." Michael muttered.
While he had been deciding on what to get, the door to the shop jingled as another person came in. It was Searraigh, and she was following Michael's footsteps like a bloodhound following a trail. She wandered around the displays focusing more on her nose than her sight as Michael went to the checkout to pay. As he waited, he glanced around and noticed her by chance.
"Wow, there she is again. Ahh damn I can't take my eyes off her!" Michael thought.
All he could see was her neck up because of the displays, but what he saw was instantly mesmerizing. Even though he thought she was still wearing her cosplay, the horns and pointy ears will still just as appealing as her flawless pristine face. To him it symbolized someone who was just as into fantasy as he was, and that was a huge turn on. Just then Searraigh slowly looked up, and their eyes locked. Her eyes opened fully and lost that sort of unfocused look when she switched from using her nose to her sight.
"Fooooooound youuuuuu " Searraigh thought.
As soon as their eyes locked Michael looked away, his heart pounding. That didn't stop her from staring at him as if he was the most precious thing in the world. Her adoring eyes never left sight of him as she started to move.
"Oh crap she saw me staring. Real smooth dipshit." Michael thought.
Michael hurried forward to pay for his beer as Searraigh started towards him. Her light breathing had turned into heavy hot breaths. Her face twisted up in a lewd smile as she closed in on her prey.
"Oh dear, you're shy aren't you. Don't be afraid my love, I don't bite. I just want to see your face writhing in pleasure ." Searraigh thought.
She came up behind him as he was getting his change, her smile growing wider as her heart beat quickened. Slowly she extended her right hand for his shoulder.
"So close! His scent is stronger than ever! How should I proceed? Out and out assault, or should I introduce myself and seduce him? No matter, I must capture him first and not get ahead of myself." Searraigh thought.
Putting his change in his pocket, Michael grabbed his case of beer and promptly walked for the door. Searraigh was close behind, and was inches from grabbing him when the door swung in her way and stopped her. Wrenching the offending door out of the way, she pursued him as he walked down the sidewalk of the busy street.
"Calm down Searraigh. You can't attack him in public. It will draw too much attention." Searraigh thought to herself.
Michael didn't look behind him, but if he had he would have seen Searraigh follow close behind.
By then night time had asserted itself and driven away the last remaining streaks of light. The city had transformed and the night life was beginning to stir, awakened by the street lights and rays from the house windows. Michael made his way back down the sidewalk and made good progress towards his home. But that night was a strange night, and it made Michael shiver. His head was on a swivel as he couldn't shake the creepy feeling that was crawling up his back.
"What is this, the witching hour?" Michael muttered.
He rounded a corner and started walking down a dark parking lot. No lights were on in the businesses there and he silently plodded through the near darkness. Once he was surrounded by darkness the creepy feeling grew, and all signs of night life disappeared. Even though there wasn't a single sign of movement he didn't feel alone. Every once in a while he heard a faint clicking noise come from behind him, and he glanced back many times. He never saw a thing, and the only other sound was his footsteps and faint rattle of bottles inside his case of beer. Little did he know that he was indeed being followed, and by a creature that would fit right in at the witching hour. He didn't see the pair of red eyes watching him closely from the darkness.
"Kikikiki, you're as nervous as a nightmare. Just wait until you get back to the privacy of your own chambers . The big bad succubus is going to drain you dry ." Searraigh thought, giggling quietly.
Just then another sound disturbed the silence of the night. A rumbling sound followed by a trespassing light dispelling the imposing darkness. Searraigh floated on her succubus wings into concealment while the strange rumbling object grew closer. It was a car, and it was full of people who just came from a party. The car wasn't exactly driving in a straight line, but it seemed to pass Michael without any issue. Searraigh was about to come out of hiding when suddenly the car screeched to a stop and immediately backed up. Michael groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose just under his glasses as the car playing overly loud beat bop music returned and stopped next to him. Searraigh ducked out of sight and went into deep hiding.
"That's him. That's the bitch who threatened me." A woman said.
"Great. The psycho hosebeast redhead is back." Michael thought.
Several car doors opened and four people got out. Three men and one annoying redheaded woman. The apparent leader of the bunch stepped forward in front of Michael.
"Yo man, my girl's been sayin things about you. Said you insulted her." The dumbass boyfriend said.
"Aaaand she got back with her boyfriend. Wow what a dumbass, and I don't mean the girl." Michael thought.
"Yeah that sounds about right. I definitely did that." Michael said flatly.
"What the fuck man, you just gonna say shit and think youse gonna get away with it?" The dumbass boyfriend slurred.
Michael could smell a great deal of alcohol on the man's breath, and it didn't help that he was standing inches away from his face by then. Alcohol combined with the definite tinge of weed.
"High, drunk, and stupid. What a winning combination." Michael thought.
Michael was thankful he was considerably taller than the dumbass boyfriend, or he would be gasping for air from how bad he stank.
The boyfriend got even closer to Michael and let out a string of barely coherent slang and swear words. Finally Michael started getting angry himself.
"She had it coming. I suggest you run from her as fast as you can before she bites your dick off." Michael growled.
"Mother fucker!" The dumbass boyfriend shrieked.
He swung his fist right for Michael's face, and it landed square. Michael neither dodged or attempted to block the blow, simply absorbing it with his cheek. It didn't even faze him.
"Is that all you got? Steve Urkel could hit me harder." Michael mocked.
"Bro what the fuck. Knock him down on his lard ass!" Another dumbass said.
The dumbass boyfriend swung again, and it bounced right off the same spot. Then he laid a flurry of blows right into Michael's chest, and all it managed to accomplish was make him giggle like the Pillsbury Doughboy.
"Alright now watch this boyo. This is how it's done." Michael said.
Suddenly his massive right hook swung and connected with the dumbass boyfriend's nose with a crack, sending him tumbling back onto his butt while screaming. His nose was hemorrhaging blood and tears were streaming from his eyes.
"Why don't you stay there and bleed awhile before you taste some real pain." Michael warned darkly.
Michael backed up several steps and turned to leave, but the psycho redhead screeched out a string of shouts.
"Cut that faggot up! Kill him! Cut him up! Faggot fatso motherfucker." The annoying redhead screeched.
The other two who had been in the car came forward, and one of them drew a knife from his pocket. They covered the ground between them before he could move, and before he knew it Michael was in a fight for his life. The whole thing only lasted a few short seconds, but in the chaos Michael managed to get stabbed right in the stomach before he beat off his attackers. The knife was still in him as he staggered back, looking at his own wound. He could barely make it out because his glasses had been knocked off his face. The two dumbasses were picking themselves off the ground and clutching where Michael's heavy fist had landed. They watched in horror as Michael started laughing.
"You dumb fecks... think you can kill a big guy like me with this puny knife?" Michael cackled.
He ripped out the knife and threw it away, the blade having never reached anywhere near his vitals. In short, it was a flesh wound.
"Now who's the next son of a bitch who wants a shot at the title? No? Then leave me the hell alone!" Michael barked.
~Meanwhile
Searraigh was crouched behind a building waiting for the car to go away so she could continue following Michael. Her nose said that he was still there, and she could smell the spirit energy of the other four. But she couldn't hear much over the sound of the car with chopped muffler and heavy booming music.
.
..
...
"... faggot fatso motherfucker..." A distant voice screeched.
Searraigh straightened a little.
"Wait what? Did I just hear that right?" Searraigh thought.
...
A few minutes pass as Searraigh strained her pointy ears.
"...THEN LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!..."
Searraigh jumped to her feet, her heart pounding in fear. Drawing her sword, she turned and ran down the alley she was in towards the sound of the car and overly loud music that had nearly drowned out the sound of a fight. She heard a scream of pain, and she ran faster.
~Meanwhile~
Michael's answer came immediately. The dumbass boyfriend who had been forgotten in the chaos had retrieved a baseball bat from the car. Luckily he was a dumbass and aimed for the leg instead of the head or Michael would have been done for. The attack came from behind, and the bat quite efficiently brought that giant man straight to the ground while screaming in agony. His leg was broken.
"Batter up butterball!" The dumbass boyfriend spat.
The dumbass boyfriend loomed over Michael and raised his bat over his blood soaked head, his stained lips curled in rage. Michael reached under his shirt in desperation, reaching for his last ace up his sleeve. In moments his hand wrapped around the grip and he drew it, cocking the hammer at the same time.
"Motha fucker's got a gat!" Someone shouted.
The entire time Michael had been carrying a concealed pistol but had refused to draw it until he had no more choices. It was a Beretta 92 model S, an older model but in excellent condition. It had been a surplus Italian police pistol he had scrounged up enough money to buy. Only someone as large as Michael could effectively conceal a full sized combat pistol like that, and he did it so well that nobody had any idea he had it. He knew full well how to use it too, having practiced countless times in the past. The sights lined up on the dumbass boyfriend and he started squeezing the trigger. Suddenly a pair of hands grabbed Michael's pistol arm. It was the annoying red head trying to protect her dumbass boyfriend. Suddenly the baseball bat landed on Michael's stomach and forced out another scream. In a fit of rage Michael lashed out at the redhead and grabbed her hair so he could chomp down on her neck with his last remaining weapon, his teeth. She careened back while yelling bloody murder.
"Mother fucker! You bit me!" The annoying redhead raged.
Michael turned his now free pistol arm on the boyfriend. He didn't pull the trigger, because the man was already stopped.
*shiiiink
Instead, he found the man clutching a blade protruding from his chest, and the baseball bat fell unceremoniously to the ground.
"Da...fuck." The dumbass boyfriend gurgled.
The blade was removed with a wet sloop sound and he collapsed onto Michael, who shoved him aside. A sword which quickly lashed out in the darkness with a distinctive swish sound. Without his glasses on, Michael had no idea who it was other than some dark figure. For all he knew it was one of the others who had produced a sword from somewhere. Michael tried to crawl away but his broken leg was making that impossible. In extreme pain and confusion, Michael had absolutely zero idea what was happening. Finally in one last desperate act to protect his life he turned and pointed that Beretta straight at the figure with the sword, whom at that point was looming over him. At the last second before the sear triggered and the hammer fell, the figure stepped forward in just the right position for Michael to make out a fuzzy image in the headlights of the car. It was the cosplayer from before, and she was sheathing her blade. Michael's arm collapsed from weakness and the Beretta clattered to the ground next to him. Searraigh was at his side in an instant. Since Michael was near sighted, he finally got a decent look at her face.
"Stay still! Where does it hurt?!" Searraigh choked.
Tears were streaming down her eyes as she pressed her hand on top of the hand Michael had on his stomach wound. Their fingers twined together.
"Call... the police." Michael groaned.
"The police are worthless and can't help you. I can." Searraigh said.
*Pop
Michael's ear popped like he had just changed altitude, and he grew incredibly dizzy. Searraigh had cast a spell on him commonly known to monster girls to rob his strength and make him easy to capture. His muscles went limp and he fell back, but he didn't reach the ground because Searraigh's other hand supported his head from behind.
"Ahh!" Michael cried in pain.
Searraigh's entire body clenched at the sound of Michael in pain. That sound went straight to her heart, and it hurt her ten times worse than it hurt him. She didn't want him in pain, so the palm buried in his hair began to glow with powerful magic.
"You are safe now. Sleep." Searraigh said quietly.
She was mere inches from his face when she said that, having drawn closer to him without even really paying attention. Her hot musky breath stuck in his nose and made his brain spin even more. His eyes drooped and eventually closed, and she smiled in relief.
"I should have paid closer attention to you, but I didn't and this happened. Please forgive me. It won't ever happen again." Searraigh said.
Suddenly a black aura formed around Searraigh and it consumed the two of them. When it cleared there was no sign of either of them.