[Emerson] Kill of the night

[Bjorn]

****. ****. Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

Bjorn thrust his hand into his pocket, reaching for another magazine of ammunition. His fingers bounced off the inner lining. Empty. Trading the gun from one hand to the other, he tested the second pocket, the third, and lastly, the fourth. Nothing. Diddly-squat. Nada. In the absence of a loaded magazine, the high calibre handgun was rendered useless. He’d not left the house equipped with anything other than that.

Holstering the unloaded weapon, the vampire continued to stumble backwards down the hill of patchy grass. His heel caught on something hard, sending him flying backwards. Ankle twisting as he tried to break his fall, Bjorn found himself rolling head over heels before managing to find his footing. The mass of shadows and partially formed body parts made a ghastly sound at him, and when realisation struck as to how close the creature was, Bjorn yelled.

Perhaps in time he’d find the irony of it amusing, but he had no time to spare towards such thoughts. He’d been lured to the park by the scent of human blood, and as he fed on his prey, injured from confrontation, his own spilled blood had lured from the shadows an unsightly fadebeast. The predator turned prey.

Bjorn hadn’t thought twice before dropping the dazed human and reaching for his gun. Now here he was, light on bullets and heavily panicked. Purposefully hunting mooncalf and fetid zombies in the catacombs was an adrenaline rush, but it paled in comparison to the undefined mass giving him chase.

“Hey! Run!” Bjorn yelled as her silhouette came into focus. He skidded across the gravel of the winding walkways, his scream causing a rippling effect that perturbed the picture-perfect stillness of gently swaying trees and sleeping wildlife. The fadebeast was still lost to the shadowy woodland behind him, but it wouldn’t take long to re-appear. When it did, he wanted as much distance between it and himself as possible.

Lady Luck did not shine on Bjorn Solberg today it would seem. The creature reappeared only a few feet away, directly on the path before him, and he was now headed straight for it. He reached for his gun, only to remember it was useless. Unwilling to crash into the fadebeast head-on, he put years of baseball championships to the test, perfected slide allowing him to halt his momentum by hitting the gravel. It was too little too late, the distance between him and the thing of nightmares negligible.

As he attempted to regain his footing, the creature caught him between the shoulder blades just as he spotted her.

“I told you to run goddammit!”

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You failed in your endeavour.

[Emerson (DELETED 8699)]

When Emerson wasn’t busy arranging flowers or downing too-sweet coffee or sticking her nose in a book, she was exploring. How could she not? Harper Rock was a big city, and even though she seemed to know - or at least know of - every nook and cranny, there were still parts she had not yet visited. And with good reason, too. Vampires were not the only monsters that lurked in the area, and the brunette was smart enough to keep herself as far away from any kind of out-of-hand trouble as she could. She didn’t know how to fight well, and she didn’t have anything to fight with, and she liked there to be a reason if she were to ever do so. Killing someone or something ‘just because’ didn’t make any sense to her, and was why she watched where she stepped on the sidewalk in case any little ants were to walk by.

One specific day of exploring just so happened to lead to an actual discovery. Emerson had stumbled upon an area that was definitely not her neck of the woods. It was too quiet and too empty until it wasn’t. She could hear people talking. Shouting. There was some fighting, she was pretty sure, and then some laughing. When she noticed there was attention on her, the girl was turning on her heel and getting as far, far away as she could from the place before anything more could come about. On her way out, with quick strides and her head ducked low, something caught her eye. It gleamed in the moonlight, slightly, and with a quick look left to right, she bent down to pick it up. A gun. It was surprisingly heavy for its size. She felt kind of giddy for having it and tucked it inside her jacket. She stopped by a not so legal shop to pick up some ammo, and the person at the register was nice enough to give her the vaguest instructions on how to use it. And so, Emerson kept her newly found weapon hidden away in her backpack, and for days, had no use for it. She also had little idea how to use it properly, or effectively, but that mattered little to the girl. What mattered was the fact that she had it at all, just in case. The feeling of someone watching her and following her was only growing as time passed, and it made her feel more secure that she had something to defend herself with rather than her own fists.

And then, while trying to relax on her day off from work, sat on a swing, an opportunity arose. The park was usually quiet, just how Emerson liked it, and lonely, just how Emerson didn’t like it, but that day, a bit far off, someone was there. A human? Vampire? Something else? Emerson couldn’t tell. She wasn’t really that good at that kind of stuff, but she was good at figuring out that the scent of blood added to yelling could only bring quickly approaching trouble, especially when something that looked like it had jumped out of a movie screen was closing the person in a not so friendly way.

Emerson’s first instinct was to run. Fight or flight, right? It would’ve been so easy to hop down, grab her things, and go, running as fast as her legs would carry her. In that aspect of things, without thinking about what could happen to this person who was clearly in danger, it would’ve been easy. But Emerson, as much as she wanted to, didn’t take the easy way out. She liked to help with things, in ways big or small, and she had a gun. Although this was biting off way, way more than she could chew, she was going to do it. No one was there to really tell her otherwise, and she wasn't thinking.

And so, she was up and she was running. Then, thinking better of it, she was walking. Slowly, carefully, as quietly as possible. Being noticed by that thing was bad news and she knew it. The brunette was working at pulling out the gun and trying to remember how the heck to work it when the person was yelling at her. She was noticed by him, but not the monster. Run? She’d already thought of that, and it was kind of too late at that point. She tried to stop being so nervous, tried to stop her hands from shaking as she tried to make sure the gun was loaded and that she was holding it the right way. How good was her aim, anyway? Emerson felt like she was in a movie, like she had a lot of luck on her side, like she could end up being a one-shot heroine. So she held the gun, hoped that she wouldn’t hit the person that was yelling at her and distracting her, and took the shot.

She missed the person, thankfully.

She also missed the monster.

But the monster did not miss her. It noticed her. She’d brought attention to herself, which was the exact opposite of how she’d wanted things to go. And now she just looked dumb, standing there with a gun she didn’t know how to use in a situation she didn’t know how to handle.

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You failed in your endeavor.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn tore away from the beast’s grasp by swinging an arm back at it and hitting its makeshift elbow. The seams of his sweatshirt cracked, testament to the the creature’s strength, which was unparalleled by that of the monsters he usually dealt with. It was only as he turned on his heel and stumbled backwards that he realised he’d risked his arm to the tusk-like teeth that protruded from it’s not-quite mouth.

The shot made him jump two feet in the air.
He whipped his head to the side to look at her over his shoulder, still moving backwards.

“That the best you can do!?”
Not that it’d make much difference if she did hit it; fadebeasts were faster in every way, including their healing capabilities. Their bodies could disperse too, making them immune to projectiles. No, escape plans were hard to come by when faced with these abominations.

The best they could hope for now was that the creature take an interest in someone else.
A quick glance around them suggested that wasn’t going to happen.

Running away was pointless if they’d be outrun. No, they were really, really fucked. She is, his brain supplied. Bjorn stood a few feet away from the brunette, his attention turned to the fadebeast and his legs bent at the knees, brimming with potential energy. Making a run for it and leaving her on the chopping board was the smartest option, but there was too much spilled blood on his hands already. No, the same voice uttered.

“Aim for the flesh!”

[Emerson (DELETED 8699)]

Was that the best she could do? Yes. Maybe. Probably. Unless she cleared her head and thought up a plan and stopped her hands from shaking. Was she having a panic attack? Then? It would've been, however inconvenient, perfectly reasonable. Emerson was more than likely going to die - again - and that scared the **** out of her. This time, she really didn’t know if she’d come back. Sure, her life wasn’t perfect, but that didn’t mean she wanted it to be over. She still had so much to find out about herself. She had people that counted on her being there, on her being alive, even in the slightest bit. She couldn’t let them down by giving up, even if it was the easiest and seemingly only way out of this mess she'd landed herself in.

There was little time to spare and Emerson had to think. While one half of her brain focused on calming the **** down, the other half tried to think of something to do, anything to do that had even the slightest possibility of success. But her mind was drawing a blank. Even if she could manage to aim well enough, what good would it do? This monster looked like it could handle a bullet with ease. It looked like it could handle an army’s worth of bullet with ease. The man was backpedaling, looking as if he was ready to leave, and the girl didn’t blame him, although she felt slightly betrayed by it. Apparently, help wasn’t always appreciated or returned these days. Every man for himself, right? And so, long story short, she was hopeless. She was absolutely hopeless on her own, and she was going to die, and it was all her fault.

But then there were instructions being shouted her way. Emerson did well with instructions because they took off some of the stress and responsibility of having to come up with a plan on her own. Now, there was a plan all ready and made for her, and all she had to do was follow through with it, which would have been easy enough under any other circumstances but the ones she was in at the moment. But she still had to try. There was nothing else to hold on to. The gun was repositioned and a shot was taken. It would have been another miss if the Fadebeast hadn’t decided to lumber closer to her at the last second, making for an easier target due to the lack of distance. The bullet caught the monster in the arm and seemed to do nothing. Well, ****. Any pride that began to bubble in her chest was diminished. She could try again, but the thing was gaining on her, and the brunette could only move so fast. She was stepping backward while trying to avoid tripping over anything and trying to aim again when an idea popped into her head as if she had forgotten. Emerson was an Allurist. She had powers of some sort, and it would’ve really smart if she'd tried and used some of them before she was being knocked to the ground and letting out a scream. The feeling of her head colliding with the ground was all too familiar, and so was the bursting flames of pain that followed, but at least she still had a grip on her gun.

"Aim for the flesh," she reminded herself through gritted teeth, kicking her foot to the arm that came reaching for her to try and buy some time.

[Bjorn]

The moment stretched like overheated gum picked off the back of a bench on a hot summer day. For a few seconds he had privacy, the fadebeast focused on the brunette rather than him. It was easier to think when it wasn’t facing him. Survival instinct rippled through him like an unstoppable force, and he felt himself finding his centre amidst the chaos. If only his gun had bullets, then he’d have been able to do just enough damage to open a brief window for a successful escape. His fingers flexed, knuckles white.

When the girl went down, he acted without thought. He predicted the abomination’s next move. It would expand, move forward, engulf, kill. It would likely tear her to pieces with great efficiency, unless its focus was broken. Bjorn pushed off the ground and sent the bulk of his weight in the fadebeast’s direction. His fingers sunk into healing flesh she had just kicked, and with the momentum of his jump, he pulled on the creature’s appendage with hopes of tearing it off. He failed to do any damage, but at least the girl was spared—if only for a moment. The monster shrieked angrily, easily shaking the vampire off. It’s attention was on him, though the following shot had it turning towards the girl. It was caught between them, and would soon make quick work of them.

Bjorn rolled away and found his footing. He closed his eyes — a dangerous, nay, potentially fatal thing to do. His telepathic powers allowed him to predict the fadebeast’s next move — on the girl — and with that breadcrumb of knowledge he lost himself deeper into his mind to tap into his newest abilities. Only once had he done this before, and there was no telling whether or not it would work a second time.

When Bjorn opened his eyes a second later, he was standing behind a projected illusion of himself. Lifelike, the decoy stood where he’d been milliseconds before, a 3D carbon copy of himself. He moved around it, reaching for the metal frame of the nearest trashcan. The gash under his armpit, courtesy of the human he’d fed on, burned as he tore the metal from the gravel and dirt.

“Run that way!” he yelled at her again, throwing the trashcan at it to get its attention again. As he released the makeshift weapon, the telepath created another residual image of himself. The fadebeast would turn on it, and perhaps the other too - he did not know yet. It would give him and the stranger enough time to figure their next move.

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You [ failed | succeeded | succeeded ] in your endeavour.

[Emerson (DELETED 8699)]

Emerson’s kick, despite how much strength she had put into it, didn’t pack quite enough power to do much damage. The Fadebeast’s flesh was healing rapidly from the blow, even more so than her own could, and the reality of that was, quite honestly, a little terrifying. As the man literally jumped to her aid, Emerson rolled away and got to her feet. Oh, so he really was going to help her after all? That was a plus. Two was definitely, without a doubt, better than one, but probably still not enough to be successful. Pain pounded in her skull like a beating heart and threw her a bit off balance, putting the world on an angle. Go figure. She shook her head in hopes of clearing it, but it only made things worse. With one hand on her gun, the other reached back to brush over the source of her pain. Her fingers came back bloody, but she was probably healing. There was no time to worry about it, anyways. Emerson focused on aiming, a bullet passing through a dark shadow rather than colliding with flesh. Her perception was off and all the attention was back on her, once again. Not for long, though. With a quick glance around, the man was there, in two separate spots at once. What the ****? This dude, whoever he was, was definitely not a human. And that made her feel a bit better about the whole situation.

Run. Emerson didn’t have to be told twice. She took off, legs pumping, her right one a bit sore from the awkward angle of her previous kick. That way. Which way was that way, exactly? There was no specification, and that meant she was running to wherever she thought was best, which just so happened to be towards the exit. Getting out of the park sounded like a good idea. Getting out of the city sounded like a good idea. Was the man following her, or had she left him in the dust? One part of her insisted she keep going since he was the one to tell her to run after all, but the other, stronger part of her made her skid to a stop and look over her shoulder. Now there were three of him, and one of them was throwing a trashcan. She watched as the metal crashed into the flesh of the monster, barely swaying it from its stance. It did, however, veer in the direction in which the object had been thrown, and then back to where Emerson once stood, which was empty air. It seemed confused as it glanced about, finding only the two copies to be left, which was hopeful.

Not knowing how much time they had, Emerson made sure she had enough bullets in her gun and cast another quick glance at the exit. Could they make it? Could he make it? The stranger was running in her direction, safe for now, as the Fadebeast lumbered over to attack his copy, distracted. The monster was clearly lacking something in the upstairs. Could the two of them confuse it to self-destruct, or something? Emerson frowned. A knife, or a sword, more specifically, probably would’ve been the more ideal weapon, to just cut the thing’s head off and be done with it. But she didn’t have one, and by the looks of it, neither did the man. She hoped he had some kind of plan and that he had one soon, because the first copy had already been torn to pieces and the Fadebeast was gearing up to the second one. And she was more than ready to just run.

[Bjorn]

The telepath had crossed fadebeasts on three different occasions, but had only successfully killed the last one he had faced. His success could be credited to his tireless training and the acquired knowledge regarding Harper Rock’s supernatural population. He’d grown stronger through practice and study, as well as been equipped with weapons of high quality which he’d grown incredibly proficient at handling.

Now, it was a weapon that he lacked. Bjorn could conjure decoys of himself that would disperse upon attack and send a shockwave of telepathic energy through the fadebeast, but they were temporary stopgaps. What he needed, more than bullets and fancy tricks, was something to spar with. The fadebeast couldn’t be outrun, couldn’t be put down with a few shots; it needed to be dismantled. It needed to be disposed of with quick, relentless strikes that turned the tables on it, giving it no time to heal or to find its footing. It needed to be speared, at least, that’s what had worked the last time.

The vampire ran after the girl, long legged strides making it all the easier to reach her. This was not the direction he’d meant when he’d told her to run. As he neared, he could smell her blood. They’d both lost blood, making them definite targets regardless of whether they tried to blend into a crowd or not. In fact, it was a terrible idea to go out into the streets. Leading this thing out of the park was a mistake that could cost them dearly. The masquerade had fallen months ago, but the cameras remained at every street corner, recording without pause. The disappearance of the violations list did not mean there wouldn’t be consequences, be it from police or from fellow vampires who still believed in the code. That wasn’t even taking into considering the collateral damage their altercation could create.

“We can’t lead it out there,” he told her, coming to a stop at her side. He hazarded a glance at the fadebeast, who’d already caught on. With the scent of their blood—wounds healed or not—they wouldn’t be able to evade its predation. Flexing his fingers, he scrapped the anima barrel and pulled his last trick out of the hat.

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Bjorn used Telekinetic Shield on everyone here. You gained 4 dexterity for the day. Everyone in the square has been given an invisible shield, making them harder to hit.

“Come on, this way,” he beckoned, reaching out to grab her forearm. Bjorn was already moving as he did this; there was as much chance for his hand to land as there was for him to miscalculate his reach altogether.

He ran towards the public restrooms and maintenance building, sparing none of their surroundings with his searching gaze. Come on. Come on comecomeon.. There had to be something laying around somewhere; there always was in this city. A gun, a magazine clip, a worn sword, a rusted blade. Something had to turn up sooner or later.

Bjorn’s eyes caught sight of something laying on the grass just as the fadebeast reappeared, shifting mass inhumanly tall. His focus on searching had made him lose sight of his predictive reflexes, and he barely saw it coming. He wasn’t spared, the claw catching his middle and taking with it layers of fabric, skin, and muscle. The vampire coughed up blood as he stumbled forward, managing to direct his fall towards the grass. He landed within crawling distance of what turned out to be the one thing he needed.

Clasping at his abdomen, he slid across the damp grass without any modicum of grace, hoping to reach the weapon before the fadebeast sunk its claws into him once again. He felt himself grasped by the ankle and lifted off the ground. As he flew into the concrete wall of the maintenance building, his grip on the blade’s hilt tightened.

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Fantastic. Looks like Lady Luck is on your side.

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You found an item of use! Obtained 1x Alpha Fadebeast Fang.

[/font]

[Emerson (DELETED 8699)]

The stranger had finally met up with her and was giving her the worst of news - that they couldn’t run. And she had to agree that he was totally right. If the two of them, who were definitely not human, couldn’t handle the Fadebeast very well, how would two unsuspecting, everyday humans handle it? In truth, they wouldn’t. The humans would suffer a horrible fate and that blood would be on her hands. Innocent blood. She’d be guilty over it for who knew how long and decided that there had to be something out there that they could do. What tricks did Emerson have up her sleeve? Surely there had to be something.

But she didn’t have time to think before her arm was being grabbed and Emerson was being pulled away. She followed behind the male as he brought her towards two little buildings. Could they hide inside, or would the monster just follow them? Or, better yet, would it tear the building to pieces just to reach them? Emerson knew she didn’t want to find out. The man seemed to be looking for something - a weapon, most likely, and with her luck only a few days before, the chances of him succeeding were looking pretty good. What didn’t seem to be looking very good was the fact that the Fadebeast was reappearing, way too close for comfort., and Emerson didn’t even have any time to warn the stranger or push him out of the way before the thing was reaching out to attack. She watched in horror, and some sense of familiarity, as the man was injured, blood and muscle coming into view. The scene made her sick not because it was absolutely gross and terrifying (although it was), but because it struck something in her chest that hit close to home. She ignored it, pushed the feeling as far down as she could, and shot at the Fadebeast again, hoping to distract it, to get it away from the man who already had enough on his plate. And it was no use. Although the bullet caught in its previously injured arm, the monster knew its target.

Emerson was an Allurist and knew there was much more to her than just being able to see how she really looked in the mirror every morning. There had to be. She was running out of time, she knew, as she watched the monster slowly step closer and closer to the squirming male as if it knew it would not be spontaneously outrun. Emerson tried to think. She loved nature. She wondered if she could knock a nearby tree over, but that seemed unlikely. Another aspect of nature involved animals. Emerson loved animals, and as far as she could tell, they didn’t mind her as much as they minded others of her species. She knew that was a rare occurrence and held onto the idea for a moment. What could she do? What could she possibly do? She’d never eaten meat and never wore anything made of or tested on animals and never, ever hurt one, intentionally or not. In a way, didn’t that mean they kind of owed her one? She tried to think of the animals that were out that night, that she could reach out to, that were likely to answer to her requests. Birds and bunnies probably wouldn’t do much, but was open to any, any help at all, reaching out to any little critter with her mind.

She was too late. The Fadebeast was grabbing the male by the ankle, lifting him off the ground, preparing to throw. The brunette kept trying, kept pushing herself, and watched as the male was released towards the nearby building and a particularly dark, buzzing cloud came into view. Were those bees? Something tickled over her foot, and Emerson looked down to see a collection of spiders Prudence would not be fond of seeing crawling through the grass and towards the monster. Oh. Bugs. It was better than nothing. It was a distraction, and they seemed to be doing something, as more and more of the critters came into view and moved towards the Fadebeast to attack. Taking the opportunity while she still had it, Emerson ran over to where the man had fallen to assess his damage. She could only assume it wasn’t good, but she hoped for the best anyways.

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You succeeded in your endeavour.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn had no eyes at the back of his head to watch what was happening. The buzzing he heard—the dull echo in his ears—was presumed a symptom of his collision as the bees went unseen. Every move he made seemed to acerbate the wound beneath his armpit, interrupting the healing process time and time again. When he pushed himself onto his elbows, the pain radiated throughout his entire torso and white light flashed before his eyes, temporarily blinding him. The muscles of his injured neck protested as he glanced down at his torso, spine arching away from the ground. The movement alone hurt in an all-too-familiar way. The scent of blood was overwhelming.

Grunting, Bjorn pushed himself onto his wobbly knees, reaching towards the wall for support. His grey sweatshirt was in tatters, a large (and growing) spot of dark red spreading through the remainder of the fabric. The hood was beginning to stain from the blood oozing from his head injury. Spitting the blood out of his mouth, he pushed off the wall in a futile attempt to get to his feet. He didn’t even budge an inch, rocking in place.

The telepath needed a while longer, but he—they—had no time to waste.

“You got any bullets left?” he gasped out, grimacing.

He glanced down at the blade in his opposite hand and he realised that though time was not on their side, lady luck was. Hazarding a glance at the fadebeast upon hearing its heinous yell, Bjorn tried to get to his feet once more. Better to suffer now and survive, than resurrect to regret it later.

[Emerson (DELETED 8699)]

Emerson could see a lot of blood and obvious pain on the male’s end and she felt really, really horrible about it, even if he was healing - if he was a vampire, at least. But that didn’t matter. Was it Emerson’s fault? Not really. If she had run like he’d told her the very first time, if she hadn’t interfered, the possibility of him being in the same situation, or one that was even worse, was very likely. So no, it wasn’t her fault, but she could take some of the blame if she wanted to, and she did. She was no doctor or nurse and couldn’t recall anything but the knowledge of very, very basic first aid, so she wasn’t really sure what to do, then. She could think about it later when the biggest problem was solved for good. When the Fadebeast was finally dead. Emerson didn’t think she had the capability of killing it, but then again, she didn’t think she had the capability of firing a gun, either. Oh, right. Her gun. Bullets. She checked per his request.

Two. Two bullets. Was that it? Seriously? Emerson let out a huff of defeat. She wasn’t carrying any extra ammo on her, currently. She didn’t really have pockets, and she wasn’t sure how socially acceptable it was to stuff bullets in her bra, and she didn’t really think that she would end up needing quick access to them that night. “Two,” she finally told him. “The extras…” Emerson nodded her head in the direction of the swing set where she had been sitting not too long ago. Her backpack was still up there, the smallest zippered pocket filled with extra ammo. Trying to go and get them was like planning her own funeral. It would require successfully sneaking past the Fadebeast and outrunning it with enough time to spare to reload, which she wasn’t all that quick at, yet.

With a glance back, Emerson noticed that her little distraction, her little victory, was coming to a close. She racked her brain with what to do next. This guy needed time to get back on his feet and gain enough energy to do what he had to do with the blade. The girl could’ve offered up taking the weapon and her chances with it, but she figured he knew how to wield it better than she did and tossed the idea to the back burner. A hand came up to rake through her hair. “I need, like, instructions,” she mumbled. “A plan to follow, or something.” She was going to add in am ‘I’ve never done this before’, but she knew it was obvious. It was painfully, painfully obvious.