Stalker becomes Hunted

No one goes near her. Not unless they want their arms chopped off (and I assure you it would not be pleasant...). Xyliar only has one family member... her brother. But they lead less than normal lives. Others live in fear of the demonic creatures that haunt the darkness in the night, but then you have the hunters. They turn the stalker into their prey.
She finds it oddly difficult to accept other people, but who needs other people? Who needs anyone? All she needs is the katana at her hip and the murderous hatred of those who prey on the weak and vulnerable.

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3. The screaming irritations

Flying through the air, she flipped backwards over a nihileitatas and sliced it across head. It gave a blood curdling scream and whipped around, as quick as lightening. Its clawed hand reached up and attempted to cut her spine. Just at the right moment Xyliar arched her back in an elegant arc and landed gracefully on her feet.

            Drops of blood spurted from the creature’s open wound on its head, splattering the crystal white floor with red.

It was strange. The creatures looked so much like humans that actual humans never noticed the danger before it was too late. This one was blond. They were always the hardest. It’s heavily make-upped eyes were hazel-green and glowed with feline brightness. The creature’s blond cascade of luscious curls whipped crazily around her face, it’s teeth bared in a manic, insane grin.

“Time to die.” It hissed through the long forked tongue, flicking it out, tasting the air for more flesh. It was one of those rare days when the hunter had arrived too late to save the stalked victim. She’d turned up with crimson staining the floor, a young brunette man lying in the puddle, his intestines trailing up to the nihileitatas’ soaked hand. It was handling them with a childlike curiosity, carefully tasting them with it’s forked tongue. “A different taste to what I am used to… delicious…” It mumbled, stuttering over it’s words like a toddler. The creature was an obvious new born, but the only problem was the fact it was blond. It might sound strange to be judging it by it’s hair colour, but these weren’t human. Nihileitatas were creatures of the darkness. Nothing to feel sorry for. It was a fact that blond nihileitatas were better at fighting, and brunettes were the worst. No stereotyping. No discrimination. Nothing rude or nasty to say. It was a fact. A simple fact.  

 

That was when Xyliar had come sprinting through the door, brandishing her glinting katana with its black handle slid in between her long slim fingers. The leather black coat flapped silently behind her with elegance only suited to a coat of that level of… there isn’t another word for it… coolness.

            She’d pulled of fingerless lacy black gloves on to improve grip, making her hands look like they were covered in a lattice of white spots over jet black hands.

 

The katana sliced through the thick air. Denseness familiar with the nihileitatas filled the girl’s lungs, along with the usual pain that came with them.

            “Time to die? Yeah for you.” Xyliar spoke in a fierce whisper. Laughing the girl swung the sword whipped through the thick air and cut into the creature’s paper white arm. She felt it connect with bone and watched every drop of blood fly out of the wound. A blood curdling scream burst from it’s lips, filling the room with echoing screeches.  It snapped sharp teeth at the hunter’s face, hissing and spitting like a wounded cat.

            It drew it’s last breath and shuddered. Xyliar left it there, knowing that it would soon turn to ash. The denseness lifted and she could breathe again.

            The communicator in her ear vibrated uncomfortably. She clicked it impatiently.

            “What?!” The girl snapped, desperately wanting to throw the thing out of the nearest window.

            “Xyliiiiie darling, are you coming hooome now? We’re worried about you!”

            “I’m fine, you stupid old man!” Xyliar decided to let the name thing pass for now. She’d get him later.

            “Ahhhh, don’t beee like thaaaaat! You’ve made me saaaad!” Varian cried in dismay. “Xylie come hooome!” He repeated.

            “Oh my god, shut up, I’m coming now! I’ll be back in an hour.”

            “An hour? Why so long?!”

            “I’m in London.”

            “WHAT???!!! WHY ARE YOU IN LONDON???” Xyliar yanked the earpiece out and threw it as far as she could. Why did that stupid man have to be so irritating?

            Glancing down at her arm she noticed a growing patch of blood there. She yanked out the tooth that had lodged itself in there and waved and impatient hand over it. The blood poured back into her veins and the deep cut healed as the skin knitted itself together.

            “Xyliar!!! Xyliar!!! Xyliar!!!”   The irritating voce of the boss screeched from her pocket. She reached into it and found another earpiece, this one sewn into her jean pocket by a long piece of thick wire. “You can’t cut or break this!” Varian said triumphantly.

            “You want a bet.” The calmness in her voice made it obvious she was about to do something stupid. “No! Wait!” But it was too late. She secured the end of the speaker to a metal bar beside the window and dived out of it.

            The air whipped around her, making her black hair wrap around her face. Her green eyes glinted with exhilarated madness. She heard Varian shout her name so loudly through the communicator that several birds flew away. Then the thick wire snapped under her weight. She continued to fall through the air and landed nimbly on the ground, snapping the katana back into its sheath.

            “See you later… boss.” Xyliar muttered to herself, her lip twitching in the corner in a wry smile.

           

She set off into the darkness of the night, sprinting on rooftops, staying in the shadows.

Feeling the wind began to get cold and biting on her pale flesh she stopped and examined the scenery. Ever door was locked. Every window shuttered. Everyone was in their beds, wondering if they would be the next to be devoured to disappear.

            It was too cold to travel any further. England was always freezing in the winter, it was best to keep inside on nights like those. For more reasons than one…

            Drawing out her phone from her pocket she dialled the first number that came to her head.

            “Hello?”

            “Zenith. Do you have friends in London?”

            “Yeah… the boss wants to speak with you. Should I put him on?-“

            “OF COURSE YOU SHOULD PUT ME ON!!!! ZENITH GIVE ME THE DAMN PHONE!!!”

            “If you put him on I swear I will kill you.” Xyliar’s voice gained a threatening quality that she knew terrified the boy.

            “I-I… whatever… what is it you want?”

            “ZEEEEEENNNNNIIIIIIITTTTTHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!”  Varian’s screeches emitted so loudly from the phone the girl was forced to pull it away from her ear, which was ringing painfully.

            “DAMMIT VARIAN!!! WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP!!!???” Zenith screamed at the shrieking man. The boss fell silent and muffled sobs came down the phone. “Sorry about that, Xyliar, they live at number 65 Barton street, tell them I sent you and they’ll let you in straight away. Anyway got to go now, I’ve got a night shift tonight so… Bye Xylie!” He hung up before his sister could give him another death threat.

            “Those idiots.” Muttering to herself about her boss’ and her brother’s idiocy she set off down the winding streets of London towards the place Zenith had directed her.

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