Chapter Text
A shrill scream pierces the air, layer upon layer of pain and terror wrung out in excruciating detail, and carrying with it the threat of attention and detection. With a sickening crunch and a wet gurgle, it ends as quickly as it begins.
Breath held, heart thudding so loudly it threatens its own discovery, a beat passes…
…two…
…three…
…four…
Nothing.
That was close – far too close. They need to keep moving, and they need to move now.
Heavy clouds of smoke move sluggishly across a baleful red sky, as flames from countless fires and explosions dot the horizon. Like distant beacons, they cry out their warnings to an unheeding population, already well aware of its own doom. Blinding, blessed light illuminates the ruined streets in sporadic bursts of gold, the scent of burning buildings and bodies heavy on the air as triumphant shouts and panicked cries are heard in every direction.
Closer to hand, the alleyway is cast in a cloak of thick shadows. The weak flickering of neon signs add the occasional jarring burst of colour, calling to crowds long since scattered or dead, but they barely penetrate the gloom below. At first glance it seems devoid of life, the steady drip of a leaking pipe echoing against the backdrop of chaos unfolding in the streets ahead. A sigh breaks the silence.
They need to get to the portal. Once there she’ll finally be free of this mess, this literal hell. She’s so close to her goal now that she can almost taste it; the heady, intoxicating dream of freedom. Just a few streets to go, and the urge to break cover and run is barely repressed. She should have been there by now, not still crawling through the decimated corpse of the city, snuffing out the lives of the injured they come across, before their pathetic mewling brings unwanted interest. But the necessity of bypassing destroyed buildings, milling mobs and slaughter is slowing them down. And they need to remain vigilant; there are killers on the loose, too many to count – and not just above. This bloody night provides the perfect opportunity for other evils to emerge from the cracks and stake their own claim on the city and its inhabitants. She only has one shot at this.
Sighing again at the unavoidable delays, she motions to her escort to continue. Once again they resume their furtive progress down the narrow passage, hugging the damp walls and ignoring the squelching something underneath.
Running footsteps sound, causing another standstill in the gloom, breaths held. Whoever it is quickly passes by the mouth of the alleyway though. A moment later and the sound of smashing glass further down the street and whoops of crazed laughter signify another business falling to looters. Vermin, she thinks with a sneer. They are quick to take advantage of the turmoil, but who can blame them really? The city is designed for cheap thrills and quick highs. Like the shop window, now just a worthless pile of glittering shards being crunched underfoot, very little here is built to last. Fire, earthquakes, acid rain, murder, vandalism, violence, tragic accidents and foolish risks… the cycles of death and destruction have been going on since the beginning of time, and only spin faster as the years wear on and the population swells. She was meant for better than this, and it would soon be within her grasp.
Dotted around the districts, areas of power have risen up where those with the resources to do so have built strongholds and underground bunkers, fortified with technology, magical wards or the employment of brute strength. There, a lucky few will ride out the storm as they do every year; hunkered down with whatever portable assets they prize most. Above, the streets run with blood as hundreds submit to their final, permanent death. Some daring souls have taken their chances and braved the desolate wastelands surrounding the urban sprawl. It is unlikely they will return – few ever do. Out there, instead of a sudden grisly end from a spear from above or a knife from behind, death comes creeping to meet you quietly, almost gently – softly taking your hand and pulling your soul apart piece by piece, content to make the feast last years as your mind unravels and your body disintegrates, absorbed into the landscape around you.
A slight shudder runs down her spine at the thought, but she rolls her shoulders and sets her mouth in a determined line. That will not be her end tonight. Tonight, she will choose her own fate for once.
As they press forwards, they mis the shift in the shadows behind them as a dark shape breaks away, its eyes glowing a malevolent red and sharp teeth silhouetted in a ragged grin. No footsteps sound, and no breath can be heard – the air is barely disturbed as it stalks the fleeing couple. The woman is of little concern for the moment, though information on her movements tonight will be highly valuable. Her tall, dark companion however – long frame clad in black as he slips noiselessly through the murk, guiding his charge ever onwards – has a date with a reckoning. The shadow’s sinister smile stretches widely, its back heaving slightly in a silent chuckle. Its prey pauses at the corner ahead, eyes scanning the street before them and completely oblivious to the figure silently emerging from the gloom.
Tap, tap, tap…
Footsteps echo slowly, deliberately, down the alleyway behind them. Frowning, the man looks back. He can’t see anything, just low piles of rubbish gathered outside the of the casino they’re passing, boarded up windows looking out blindly as they sneak past. He can sense a presence of some kind though, loitering in the gathered shadows. Something familiar. Something he cannot afford to ignore, not tonight.
Gesturing to the woman beside him, fingers on lips, he urges her to keep going without him. Wide eyed, she looks at him aghast – they are close, but their destination is still a couple of streets away yet, and the city’s streets and skies remain restless.
“You promised –“ she hisses.
“Listen, I don’t think we’re alone, and we – you – don’t have time. Not if you want to make it still. You need to keep moving.” He interrupts, whispering urgently as he shoots another look behind them. “Let me take care of this.”
The woman hesitates a moment, indecision fleeting in her eyes before she looks back at him and nods grimly in acceptance.
“So be it. I -”
Once again she is interrupted by the man, although this time his words are indistinguishable. He lets out a low gargling sound, a look of shock passing across his features before blood starts to run out of his mouth and drip down his chin, shining black as tar as it trails down. Her eyes follow, and she notes the otherworldly shimmer dotting his body as sharp points of metal protrude from his throat, his chest, his stomach.
With a wet tearing sound, unseen hands drag the blades left and right, quickly and efficiently slicing through flesh and bone. The remnants of the body slump to the ground in an ungainly heap; dark blood steaming as it oozes across the dank pavement, reflecting the dull light of an exit sign blinking overhead.
Biting on her fist to stifle her gasp and the bile rising in her throat at the stench, the woman presses herself back into deeper shadow. Poised for flight, low heels quiet on the wet stone, she moves away from the stinking mess towards the open end of the alley as her eyes search futilely for evidence of the attacker.
A sudden flash and an explosion of debris cut through the silence, momentarily blinding and deafening her as her ears ring and black spots dance before her eyes. With a loud, grumbling groan, the casino before her begins its slow, inevitable descent, a shower of dust and rubble cascading into the alleyway and covering any evidence of the butchered corpse that had once been her escort – and whatever, or whoever, had attacked him. She was on her own now.
Without a backwards glance, the woman seizes the opportunity and darts off, quickly swallowed by the night.
In the alleyway, the dust begins to settle and a moment of calm falls. Shouts and screams still rend the air, but they are distant now as the bulk of the fighting moves on to another district. Amongst the black and grey of the debris left behind, a flash of red can be seen, just poking out from near the bottom of the heap. Crumbling bricks and mortar shift and more of that scarlet hue is revealed – a tattered cuff, a mangled wrist, hair matted with blood and dirt, eyes squinting in a grimace of pain.
A rattling breath wheezes out…another. The hunter survives.
Calling upon the shadow form flitting anxiously about, almost invisible in these darkened streets, between them they manage to clear a space for the figure to pull himself out a little further from the wreckage. Splatters of falling blood complement and add to the colour scheme as more of his body is exposed to the night air. Lightheaded, he pauses for a few minutes, needing to rest before attempting to dig out the lower limbs that are still buried. He could try to use his powers to remove himself, but he is running dangerously low on energy reserves right now. Better to wait and attempt a manual extraction for the moment. Besides, even if he did have the strength to shift himself through the shadows and out of this heap of masonry, he’s not sure what state his legs will be in – if they’ll be able to hold him or not. The lack of sensation below the waist suggests the latter. No matter, he will heal in time. And thanks to this evening’s effort, he hopes that’s exactly what he’s bought himself more of.
As he passes an eye over the parts of himself that are visible so far, he assess the bleeding. It would not be an overstatement to admit that he has suffered some damage tonight. Well, some more damage, he thinks wryly; reflecting on the other fight that took place earlier in the evening. That had been a dangerous distraction and an unforgiveable inconvenience; something he would need to address soon, before that obnoxious idiot and his ridiculous posse recover their strength. It simply wouldn’t do to let that pompous demon think he’d won, after all. But time had been of the essence and he couldn’t afford to lose his real quarry.
Grimacing at the pain, he takes a deep breath – definitely some broken ribs there – and begins to ease himself out once more, inch by agonising inch, with the shadow’s help.
There will be time enough for a suitable response to the earlier distraction, but one revenge at a time. And oh, how sweet tonight’s had been, after all this time… A very successful hunt indeed, he thinks smugly, and beautifully enacted. The look on the man’s face had been delicious. As would the rest of him have been, if a collapsing building hadn’t put an end to that possibility. It was a shame about the waste, but he didn’t fancy a large helping of grit with his meat. The corpse could stay hidden under the rubble, free to rot with the rest of the garbage. He had no need of it now.
Tap, tap, tap…
The alleyway once again echoes to the sound of footsteps – unhurried, measured, and heading in his direction. Attempts at extraction cease for a moment, as large ears swivel wildly to track the new sound, and red eyes widen in alarm. No! It was too soon. How…?
His thoughts come to a swift stop when a chain materialises around his neck, heavy weight dragging his head down, tight enough to restrict his already compromised breathing. Internally cursing, he realises – too late, much too late – how foolish he’d been. After all he’d accomplished this evening, to let his guard down now…
How quickly the hunter becomes the prey.
Still half buried under rubble, head weighed down and airways constricted, he pants into the dank, rank floor. Fatigue grips him then, and dread chills his weakened body. Scrabbling at the ground in front of him, he tries to find enough purchase to drag himself forwards and out. He does not want to lie prostrate, he will not give that satisfaction. Not yet… But there is nothing for his claws to grip onto, the smooth concrete under his claws wet with blood. Possibly his. His dazed mind tries to shout at him to escape, to flee. But his shallow breaths are barely enough to keep him conscious, and his vision is blurring.
A pair of black leather boots come into his line of vision. Blinking, he tries to focus, to look up, but a foot pushes his head back down into the dirt.
Growling, he weakly tries to grab at the other foot to sink his claws in, but his body is unbearably slow. The numbness seems to be spreading up from his legs. Above him, he hears a sharp tut, and feels an even sharper pain as a heel grinds down into his reaching hand, hard enough to snap the fragile bones beneath.
“You little fool, did you think your efforts would go unnoticed? That I wouldn’t know it was you? Oh, I’m going to enjoy making you pay for your little escapade tonight. I will take you apart, piece by piece, again and again… So smile, deer –“
Hot pain slices into his face, jabbing through skin and muscle again and again. He tries to gasp, to cry out against the unseen attack – any attempts at stoicism or thoughts of escape eviscerated by the burning agony. But the sound is muffled as his lips are forcibly sewn shut, invisible hooks dragging the corners of his mouth up as his bloody maw is forced into a grotesque imitation of a smile.
“Oh this will be fun…”