The Warrior Within

Prey or predator. Ally or enemy. To protect or to kill. Is the boundary always so easy to to define?


4. Chapter Three

It was not hard to notice the wary eyes fixated upon me as I drank. Such behaviour would be deemed unlady-like but I had no care for such petty issues. 

Liquor didn't do much for us, unless in large quantities which would offer a quiet but enjoyable buzz. One of them, too intoxicated to hold on to his wits was approaching, the lazy thrum of his heart appetizing. It'd be an easy meal, wouldn't put up too much of a fight. I wouldn't have too much fun playing with my food like I usually do but he'd do for now. Perhaps in his stupor, he had not yet realised what I was, as the others had. He had mistaken me for a measly young, vulnerable woman, alone at the bar. It would be his downfall but advantageous for me. 

"Hello gorgeous," he slurred, barely able to stand on his own two feet.

I pursed my lips, shifting in my chair to face him, my legs spread open. He took that as an invitation, baring his yellow teeth. Such poor dental hygiene was distasteful.

"Wanna have some fun," he suggested, his eyes glazed. That vein that was throbbing in his forehead was distracting but not enough to stop the internal retch at the use of an over-used pick-up line. 

It didn't take much effort to put on the voice of seduction, "well what did you have in mind?"

Rather carelessly, he slapped his hand onto my knee, his other hand still holding a half-drained pint of beer. With one swift movement, I could tear his hand off its joint - that'd would be amusing. I smiled to myself.

"Leave her alone."

"What?" the drunk clarified, nearly losing his balance as he turned around to face the white knight.

"You heard me." He was shorter than the drunk who was heavily set, had great girth in his arms. 

"Are you telling me what to do?" he challenged, clearly insulted.

Curiosity begged me to stay to watch how this played out. I downed the last of my drink and crossed my legs.

"The lady was enjoying her drink. I reckon she didn't like you bothering her." 

Brave. Even for a fool. His physique was poorly matched to his opponent.

"I think she'd quite enjoy my company."

The shorter one scoffed. "Unlikely."

The testerone levels elevated which may have been the impetus for the incoming bar brawl. Everyone else backed away, watching intently, as was I. 

The large one swung wide, expecting to his the smart-mouthed one hard in the jaw. The agility of the smaller one was surprising. He managed to maneuver himself around to the other side and picked up a bar stool which he smashed onto the other one's back. As a result, the large one was bent over the bar, recovering from the blow. Feeling that while drunk must not be easy.

"You alright?" the charming one asked, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Watch out," I cautioned dismissively. 

As I'd anticipated, the big one smashed his glass against the bar table, picked up a shard and slashed at the air. THe liquor significantly affected his judgement. He managed to cut a deep gash in the young man's palm, spilling blood on the putrid floor, adding to the display of dirt and bodily fluids. 

Being smaller may have had its advantage as the young one manage to deliver a blow to the other's temple, causing him to stagger backward. Nevertheless, the time taken to recover from the effort needed to land that blow allowed the bigger one to pound him in the gut. As a result, he fell to the floor, nearly unconscious.

"Alright, that's enough," I decided, standing up, slapping the dirt off my palms. The heavy-footed one approached me, thinking he could claim his prize. Fool.

I sighed, unamused at his advance. Due to his size, it took me longer than usual to bring him down. Four seconds. I'd sprained his neck, although I was attempted to break it because he annoyed me.

He was still bleeding, in no shape to crawl to whichever hole he came from. 

"Come on." I pulled him up by his arm and forced him to walk, his steps slow and clumsy behind me. This was more time than I was willing to spend outside. 

"Key," I demanded, at least enjoying the glint of fear reflected by the motel owner's eyes when he saw a familiar face. A bitter taste is all I remember from him. 

Making it up the stairs proved an impossible task for the boy which meant that I had to drag him up to the room. It was much easier considering I didn't have to move at such a sluggish speed anymore. 

He hobbled his way to the bed that could barely fit more than one. I fetched a towel then wet it, throwing it over to the boy to clean himself up.

"You know, it's un-human to watch you move around that fast," he admired, wiping the dried blood from the side of his mouth. I handed him a glass of water which he chugged down, as if he hadn't had a drink for years. "But then again," he laughed to himself, "you aren't."

I eyed him, curiously, standing by the window, the glass barely clear enough to peer through. "You are. Weak and mentally challenged. An imbecile."

"Ouch," he feigned pain. Amusing. "I don't expect a 'thank you' but you could've eased up on the name-calling."

"I speak the truth. You know what I am yet you step forward and risk your mortality."

"Because you're a lady. Well, you look like one," he corrected. He lied down, propped his head up to watch me. I looked away. Pain flashed across his face. It did not bother me.

"I could heal you," I stated, watching the mortals go about their business. That girl would be a delightful snack. And she did have such pretty hair.

"No need."

I studied him.

"Some may say my actions resemble hope."

"For what?" I asked, looking away once again. Perhaps humouring him would shut him up.

"For the belief that chivalry is not dead."

I scoffed, an involuntary sound that almost surprised myself.

"If you don't shut up and go to sleep, YOU will be."

Silence. Oh how much I enjoy your company, old friend.



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