The Twilight Zone, This Is Not Man, I have to admit, the story grew like freaking crazy since I wrote the first part. I made a few potential plot holes that would be rather hard to cover up, but I'll try to manage. I know giving away spoilers are shunned in some parts of the storytelling scene, but I just wanted to say that my story
might just have a certain defamed-to-some lengths-by-a-certain-love-story undead creature in it, although it isn't really "undead", and it isn't really a "creature"... Gah, forget about it. I just hope I get that far, damn it! It would come in my own version.
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Part 8 - The Sword of White Even though most of the rain clouds were grouped together above the heart of the city, some parts of the city's outskirts weren't spared from being pelleted with raindrops just now. The rain's stopped, and one woman thought it was time to go home. Stepping outside her office, she looked at her watch. She regretted not bringing an umbrella with her on that particular day.
"Darn it... why'd it have to rain today? Sigh, I thought I'd be able to make it home early enough to catch Inception, but I guess not." she sighed again, but thought that the cool air would make snuggling underneath her warm bed covers much more of a treat. As she smiled at the thought, another smile became etched on a face covered by darkness. The woman walked down the street, lit only by dim streetlights on the pavement's edge. The downpour had dampened many a resident's mood, and most had gone to sleep. Some still sat in their apartments, on their favorite chair, under a dim source of light, reading a new book of theirs with music flowing into their ears through a pair of dark gray stubs hung on both of their ears. At least, that's how Heather imagined them to be like.
She turned a corner, but for a quarter of a second she glanced down the path she had walked to see a man standing under the lamppost on the pavement across the street. The man was eying her closely, she could tell. Without a second thought, she started to walk faster, the sound of her shoes on the concrete pavement echoing through the city. Her mind pleaded her to grab her phone and turn around to threaten the man, but she had a feeling the man was already behind her, just beyond the darkness, beyond her field of sight, stalking her. It was a 50/50 chance for her if she acted. The sicko would either flee or immediately strike out at her. She prayed that she would run into someone soon.
When she spotted a man standing under a lamppost in the distance, she was both fearful and hopeful. She pulled together her courage and walked up to the man. He was handsome, and smartly dressed. He wore a gray business suit under a brown overcoat. Although she thought his attire seemed outdated, Heather still thought he was dreamy. The man didn't seem to notice the blond woman approaching him.
"Umm... hey...?" she stammered, trying to catch his attention. The man's blue eyes turned to her.
"Oh, what is it?" he turned to her, a comforting smile on his face.
"Please, can you help me out? I think there's a freak tailing me."
"What? Oh, this wouldn't do. He'll get very much angry if you call him a freak." the man's smile turned to a grin.
"...What?" just then she felt a pair of hands taking hold of her arms. "What the?! Let go of me!"
"...What did the ***** call me just now...?" a voice spoke. Heather looked up to see a scarred man towering above her, looking at the other man.
"I'd rather not tell you. Let's just enjoy our first treat for the night."
"No, **** it! Let me go!! Help-" a large hand covered her mouth.
"Pft. The night's still young. No need to rush." said the scarred man.
"True, the night is young. We can go on to find other women when we're done with her."
Heather struggled to release her arm from the one hand holding it. She pulled with her free hand, but the man's hand didn't even seem to budge. She was shocked when the blue-eyed man ripped her handbag from her arm and threw it onto the ground. He lowered his face so that his eyes met with hers.
"Look here, you'll find our company a very much satisfying treat, I guarantee it." he grinned at her, his hand reaching out to touch her face. She screamed as loudly as she could, but her screams were muffled. The man sniggered while his cohort chuckled. The sound of feet stepping onto concrete caught the smartly-dressed rapist's attention. he looked over his accomplice's shoulder, and immediately, his grin faded. Both Heather and his cohort noticed this.
"...Damn you, lady luck." he said. His cohort turned around. A man clad in a white long coat stood partially in darkness, his eyes hidden. In his hand he held a sword that glistened with light from the lamppost.
"It's... It's the white swordsman!?"
"So it seems... Duck!" the man yelled. In an instant the swordsman was behind the scarred man, his blade swung towards his neck. The scarred man ducked, Heather's arm still in his grip. The blade missed him, but the swordsman's other hand grabbed hold of the back of his neck and threw him a distance back. Heather became free from her captor, kneeling on the pavement. The scarred man was thrown on his back, landing on the concrete with a thud.
"Hayes, we'll have to skip out on our fun for the night. If you want to live through the night, that is."
"****! Ugh, what the **** did that meant, Carter?!" the scarred man lifted himself up with his elbow.
Heather looked up to see the swordsman standing beside her.
"Run." was all he could say before the man known as Carter lunged at him, his hands out to kill. Heather didn't nod. Staggering to her feet, she took her purse with her and ran down the dark street, disappearing from sight. Turning around, the swordsman landed a fist right into Carter's face, felling him. Hayes had gotten up, and sent his own hand out to grab the swordsman's head. He ducked beneath and kicked at Hayes' leg, sending him falling face first into the concrete.
"Heh... Not using your white sword, eh? Stop ******* mocking us, you ******." said Carter, wiping blood off his chin. He grabbed the swordsman's shoulder and threw him onto the wall, cracking it. Blood flowed down the swordsman's chin. Carter balled his hand into a fist and sent it at the man's heart. The white swordsman placed his palm onto the wall and kicked at the ground with feet. He somersaulted up and landed his feet on the wall merely seconds before Carter's fist smashed into the wall, causing parts to break off and fall onto the concrete.
Hayes got up to his feet and threw his switch knife towards the swordsman. Turning his sword in his hand the man repelled the knife. He jumped down and his foot landed on Hayes' face, sending him falling onto his back again.
"******* *******!" cursed Hayes, having fallen once too many that day.
Carter roundhouse kicked the swordsman on the side of his body, sending him moving through the air and landing onto the road. He took off his overcoat and ran towards the white swordsman, throwing the overcoat at him. The man stabbed through the coat with his sword, but suddenly found himself unable to pull it back out. Carter had taken hold of the coat's edge. He twisted the coat into a spiral, trapping the sword in the middle, and pulled at it. The coat flew towards him, with the white sword stuck into it. Carter grabbed the hilt of white sword and grinned. He pointed it at the man.
"Oh, to kill you with your own sword would very much please the boss."
"In your dreams." said the man. A pair of arms suddenly rise up from under his own arms and locks him in place. The man looked over his shoulder to see Hayes grinning dementedly.
"...You were saying?" Carter stepped forward with the white sword ready to strike.
"Cut him in half, Carter!" shouted Hayes.
"With pleasure." Carter jumped forward, swinging the sword at the man's chest, hoping to cut his torso in two. The man, unable to move his arms, lifted his feet quickly and kicked at Hayes' legs. The two tumbled down, with Hayes' head in the blade's path. His head was cut in half, the upper part thrown into the air.
"******!" yelled Carter, seeing his cohort's body fall limp, blood gushing out of the lower part of the corpse's head.
"Like I said, in your dreams." said the man, getting up to his feet and punching Carter in the gut. Snatching his sword back, the man made a large gash across Carter's chest, sending him falling with his back against the wall. Blood began to stream out his mouth and the wounds on his chest.
"Ugh... whatever it is you're... doing here... You won't win. Heh... More of us will come, Arthur, and even the smallest of mistakes... will kill you... Heh..." he said, his suit beginning to turn red in color. The swordsman stepped up and stood in front of him, his white long coat now patterned with red. Behind the swordsman, Carter could see Hayes starting to fade away. The white swordsman said nothing. He stabbed his sword through Carter's head. Carter fell silent.
"This is your end, vampire." he said, as Carter began to fade into nothingness. He pulled his sword from the wall and started to walk away. "No traces of blood..." he thought, observing his sword, as he had done many times before. "To disappear from existence completely... That is their fate. The fate of those who have trespassed into the domain of God."
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