Page 23 of Escaping Hallow Hill Academy
Any one tiny thing to make me feel connected to the only other Sekar left in this world.
“Your target’s on the move, Lucero,” he finally says, and the hope inside me dies before it’s given the chance to be born.
I roll my eyes at him but shove my papers to the dirt as I stand instantaneously. My entire body reacts to the setting and the thought of what’s about to come. The discomfort of sitting and writing for hours on end disappears as my gaze scans the night.
I rest my hand on the hilt of my sword but don’t unsheathe it yet. I can feel Sialen’s eyes on my weapon, feel the burning gaze of his dull, dead eyes flare. Perhaps he does have a little life left within him after all, and it’s my weapon that sparks it to life.
At birth, we are all given gifts by our Holy Lady of Death. Gifts that are forged from her hellish plane and sent next to our cradles upon our births. They can be something as simple as a necklace or a spoon or as deadly as a sword. Our holy objects guide us through our lives and help pave the pathways to our destinies.
I wonder what his object is. If, like his runes, it’s dead and soulless?
I itch to ask, but a flicker of a shadow darts through the night. A sigh pushes past my lips. This has grown boring. Night after night hunting after lowly supernaturals. It’s as boring as hunting after humans, and I don’t want to do it anymore.
But the metal burning into my spine reminds me that I don’t have a choice.
“Hurry the fuck up,” Sialen complains, arms crossing against his broad chest.
Fucker.
I dart in the shadows after my target, skidding around the corners of buildings with quick, silent feet. The shadow is faster. Every time I get it within my line of sight, it promptly disappears into a blur of darkness.
My sword hums with anticipation.
This hasn’t happened in two weeks, and I feel the sudden thrill of the hunt. Usually, I appear before the supernatural, sword gleaming in my hand before it brightens their darkened souls and rips away their hope for life. No one has ever outrun me before, and the fact that this blur is trying now is almost too exhilarating an opportunity to pass up.
A malevolent smirk touches the corners of my mouth, and I sprint, muscles of my legs pumping beneath me. I whisper a spell for agility, and I feel the threads and strands of DNA in my body thin out until I’m nothing more than a blur myself.
I turn sharply at a corner of an abandoned alley.
I’ve got you now . . .
The thought is blown from my mind completely as I’m struck square in the center of my chest by what feels like a giant metal hammer and get thrown back. I gasp for breath and taste blood inside my mouth that I vomit out to the side.
Fuck!
The pain is excruciating and it feels like something within me shattered.
“Lady of Death, hear me, please, fill me with life and allow me to gift you with this sacrifice.”
Lady Death can grant life as easily as she can take it away. The price of my life is death in exchange.
My body repairs itself enough for me to know I am not going to die, but I can still feel the pain as if I am. My mouth drops open as I watch my target loom over me.
A scream lodges itself within my throat as I can do nothing but gape at the monstrosity above me. It’s, in a word, terrifying. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before, like a demon ripped straight from hell or a cyborg ripped straight from another dimension.
A gaping mouth with jagged rows of teeth looks down at me, dripping black gunk like motor oil. It has no legs but dozens of arms down its long torso that scuttles like a fucking centipede. It’s more metal than flesh, and the parts thataremade of flesh and bone look like something straight out of a horror film. Its chest is ripped open to reveal a heart that bleeds black and pumps that disgusting liquid through veins that hang like spiderwebs. Dead soulless eyes stare down at me, and I can see my reflection in the marble depths as clearly as I can see the murderous intent.
I roll just as it strikes, a cry breaking past my mouth as every bone in my body screams and aches. I hop up on shaking feet, unsheathing my blade as I whirl and strike it just across its metal legs. It sears through one, sending a shower of sparks raining down on us.
My blow doesn’t seem to affect it at all. It keeps coming towards me, stabbing at me with its sharp-tipped arms. It’s like sparring against dozens of swords and opponents at once. It’s fast and strong. Within moments, it tires me out. My chest heaves for breaths. I dodge, duck, my sword strikes, and the night is filled with the sounds of our battle.
The thing pushes me back, and I whirl through the air, landing on my feet with a cry. It advances, scuttling across the ground. I wait until it’s a breath away and strike out, sword slicing through the skin of its chest. My sword glows, and the runes on it and my body burn to painful proportions.
I scream, every muscle in my body feeling like it’s about to snap with the strength I’m using to try and defeat him.
My teeth grit against the pain, and it lashes out with a spindly limb, slicing me across my thigh, then my calf. I feel the instant pain, the blood pooling down my clothes. My legs buckle beneath me, and I fall, dropping my sword. It skids across the pavement, too far for me to reach.
I can feel the presence of my Lady close because someone is going to die right now. And it’s probably me.
