Onigokko (IC Thread)

[Tobias]

Manny Slayne
The Floodflow- Basin Square
Time Unknown (Morning)

The air was fresh and cool. Despite the haze of the day, there was a sweet breeze that seemed to drift from the river, coating his body in an almost maternal comfort.

Wonderland was accepting him. That may have just been an amusing fantasy, but some primal part of Manny was sure that was true. That demon he had killed had bled sweet, died wonderfully, but many who entered wonderland slew the strange creatures that permeated its depths. Killing a man though...slaying a Hero...It was if the land itself gave blessing to his actions.

The smell of blood...

That same cool breeze seem to respectfully carry the tantalizing iron tang to his nose, into his mouth. The taste of wounded prey...

...Or so he was meant to believe. Manny's lips rose over his canines. So much blood...it was meant as bait.

Manny remembered. His loins, already full of fire and blood, somehow stiffened even further as his mind's eye replayed the last few minutes. It was with a significant effort that Manny stopped his imagination from stopping to savor the moment of death. Of ownership. No, that wasn't what he was remembering. He remembered still earlier, when the Beast and the Boy had briefly become one, and even before that.

He remembered that prey had tried to save prey.

He remembered that his prey had been able to cast healing magic.

Whatever injury she had experienced...Manny could already see it. She must have floundered to her feet, stricken, already grieving. Maybe she had crawled for a time, gripped by some mindless compulsion to flee where tragedy had visited a friend and would soon befall her as well if she did not escape. There was a tumble of dirt where she had perhaps overbalanced, fallen, cut herself. Manny expected that it was likely this moment where she had regained her cognitions, remembered herself, marshalled her inner resources and used whatever strange magics she possessed.

Ah little fox. It must have been here, at this moment, that you also decided to kill me.

...Delicious.

Manny Slayne was a bringer of death. And has someone who understood death, he remembered that there were 5 stages. The first was denial, but it seemed the little fox had swiftly run over that. No, he could feel her anger. Her rage, it was as strewn along her path as much as was her blood. And far more honest. She covered her grief with fury. Perhaps vengeance would be the appropriate description.

Little Fox...I will show you death.

The mistake the other beast, the boy Manny had devoured was in not allowing himself to become a monster. In the end, he had continued to be a hero. The girl's mistake...Rage was a poor substitute for malice. Hatred, powerful as it was, had never been a match for pure, cold murderous evil. Her anger burned white and hot, warming her but controlling her actions, setting her pace. Manny's fire had long since frozen. Even back in the real world Manny had patient sat next to his chilled killing intent, honing it. Forging it into perfect...clarity.

Manny had spent years holding back the desire to kill until the timing was perfect. This little fox, fearsome though her very true desire for death was, could not match this feat. She wanted Manny dead, so she egged him on, called him out, despite her weakness. Despite her injuries and the shock and horror of loss, she nonetheless sounded the horn of battle.

Manny crouched slightly as he followed the path. His steps slowed slightly, testing the ground for the slightest vibrations, hearing the wind and voice of Wonderland. In a deliberate but controlled stalk he prowled, seeking the hunter and hunted, willing to be both himself in turn. He would pit his killing intent vs her grief, and let Wonderland judge the most pure.

Let your rage burn hot, little fox. Let me show you the difference between us.

...This is what it means to kill something.

[Sei]

Mark Walker
School Building- Hallways
Time Unknown (Morning)

There's only one way this will play out. That's what you tell yourself. It's a painful truth that weighs down on you and beats at the doors of your mind. For this girl, you have outlived your usefulness. Not only has she gotten what she wants out of you, but the information you have to offer is bare-bones. At best, she'd shoot you and leave you to serve as lunch for whatever creatures are on the prowl. That is not the fate you have in mind for yourself. So, before she can act, the smart thing to do is to take the initiative. So you run. You run with a vigor that no mere human can easily respond to.

"Tsch!"

You hear the girl suck her teeth behind you. In an instant, you have already created a good bit of distance between the two of you and, as expected, she is slow to react. As you are now, even an Olympic athlete would have trouble catching you. Though, that doesn't stop the girl from trying.

One. Two. Three. Four. Four more gunshots cut through the deathly silence. But it's okay. You have already accounted for this. As deadly as they may be, guns still fire in a straight line. That's why you're running from side to side. It's something you learned about in passing, but you're glad for it now. Between your speed, your movements, and your decision to stay low, there's no way you'll get hit. This is how you reassure yourself.

However... As two bullets whirl past you, you find yourself unable to hear the remaining two. Instead, the sound of their passing is substituted by two distinct pains. A piercing pain in your left shoulder and a stabbing jolt in your right calf. You've been shot. Twice.

Mark suffers 12 damage.

The twin injuries make you stumble a bit, but your body is resilient. You ignore the pain and fully commit yourself to running- switching to a straight sprint. But it's already too late.

Your only alert is the sound of two heavy, rapid steps. Before you can even turn properly, you're tackled from behind and knocked down to the ground. Before you can even fully recover, a familiar gun is once again pointed directly at your face.

"Not exactly the bravest man, are you?"

It's the girl with long hair. In that brief moment that you lost your balance, she not only managed to catch up to you, but knock you down as well. And that's not all... It's subtle, but you can tell there's more to this girl than meets the eye. With her arm pressed down on your neck, it's not hard for you to tell there's an unnatural amount of strength hiding within her small limbs.

Her eyes meet yours. There is no panic. No hesitation. Only determination and purpose.

You have to act. You have to do something or this girl will kill you. Something. Anything. But... Before you can even come up with a basic idea, the girl rises and uses her unnatural strength to pick you up as well. She lowers her gun, pulls you over towards the side of the hall, and opens up one of the classroom doors. Without missing a beat, she flings your entire body into the dark room and hops in after you. Naturally, you quickly scramble to get back on your hands and feet; however, by the time you do, the girl is already pointing the gun at you again. Only this time... This time she brings a single finger to her lips to accompany the gesture.

Gun at the ready, the girl does not take her eyes off you. At the same time, she slowly backs up against the wall and slides down to a seated position. Taking her hand from her lips, she slowly reaches out to the door, firmly places her and on it, and quietly inches it shut until only a sliver of the hall can be seen. Then... Then she doesn't move. She merely sits there, deadly silent, with her eyes on you and her finger on the trigger. And after a few seconds, you hear it...

Slowly moving down the hallway, you hear... something... The old wooden boards creak and moan beneath its weight. Each step it takes is like someone jabbing the floor with a spear while another scratches the walls with nails. In time, you can even hear it breathe. Even more than your own breath or the girl sitting across from you... You can hear this thing's quiet, predatory breathing. It slowly creeps down the hall, thinking about each and every step it takes. And... As it draws closer... You start to get a sense of its weight through the floor.

"Turn that off..." The girl whispers to you, gesturing her gun in such a way to point out your activated circuits, "...Believe me. That thing will attack you before it attacks me."

A warning that causes your stomach to make a sickening turn.

As she says this, the light coming from the hallway starts to dim. And the footsteps... The footsteps practically stop.