Liv tumbles out the fragile walls of the building, Ainsley following behind with murder in his eyes. Her hand was locked around his wrist, the tip of his weapon a whisper away from her eye. She had managed to react in the nick of time, landing a lucky punch into his sternum– though he hadn’t given her much time to do anything more than that. He proceeded to grab her, pushing them both out of the window. Charlotte would’ve helped if she could’ve; sadly, she found herself busy defending against the elderly man’s glinting knife.

  Liv glances to the side, the floor rapidly approaching. No time to think then. With a growl of effort, she pushes him away, just barely managing to land on her feet. He manages about the same, his shoes scraping against the stoney floor, his eyes locked on her the whole time.

  “You should’ve let me kill you at the start.” He says. “I take no enjoyment butchering people.”

  “Coulda explained yerself ‘fore ya jumped at me.” Liv retorts, her fists raised in a defensive position.

  “Survival outweighs sympathy. The chances of you or that team of yours allowing my survival are next to none.” He adjusts his grip on his weapon, tossing it to his other hand. A railroad spike, nearly a foot long. Rust runs over its metallic surface, not a single fleck of its old metal shining through the deep red hues. Despite its advanced age, the point still appears to be sharp.

  Liv glares at him, her eyes only momentarily wandering to the sight of the explosion. One of the huts has been knocked over, Donovan slowly standing from the rubble. His shirt is in tatters, blood staining the rags; though, the wounds have already healed over. From the other end walks what can only be described as a beast.

  Scales run over the creatures thin body, its arm split in two at the bicep. A tail runs down the length of its back, ending in a wickedly sharp point that hooks inward. Though it has a face, its sockets remain completely empty, its mouth filled to the brim with unnaturally sharp teeth. It seems humanoid, more so than any Liv had seen. It was... Strange.

  Liv suddenly snaps back to attention as Ainsley’s spike rushes by her face, his body frozen mid throw. She throws her head to the side, the tip just barely grazing her cheek. She watches it embed in the wall, a trail of crimson running down her face. She turns back to face him, caught between questioning what the hell she was looking at and why having that thing in his borders would spell his death.

  Her questions die on her lips as his arm slams into her face, a perfectly executed clothesline. Her head whips back with the force, her legs swept from under her feet. She lands with a crash, her brain struggling to put the pieces of her reality together. How the hell had he gone so fast? She couldn’t have looked away for more than a second or two!

  Ainsley stops just before his weapon, pulling it from the wall in a fluid motion. Charlotte bursts through the front door of his abode, Anthony a second behind. Blood stained her armor, a detached, cold look in her eye. Ainsley glances over, sending his thanks to the elderly man who held them back for even a moment. Though he was likely gone now, he had stalled all he could, and that was all he could ask for.

  Charlotte allows her eyes to roam from the demon, to Liv’s prone form, and to Ainsley in short order. Gripping Pierre, she poises herself to dash toward Ainsley, wind hair standing on end with the wind billowing around her. She stops, however, as Liv stands, her hand shooting out in a halting gesture.

  “I got this.” She mutters, her voice slurring near the end, a distinct nasal about her voice. She goes to wipe her nose, a flash of pain arcing through her body. Broken for sure. “Go ‘n help Donovan.”

  Charlotte stares at her, her face a mask of calm. Internally, a war was playing out, caught between the need to help her injured friend and the knowledge that she was right. Her eyes dart to Donovan, watching as he blocks a swipe with his Tonfa, barely dodging the Demon’s maw… No, not a demon. Not truly.

  “If I even get a sense that you’re faltering, I’m coming back for you. This I swear.” Charlotte calls, her hand gripping Anthony’s. Anthony stares at Liv, a mix of emotions playing on his face; though, he doesn’t stop Charlotte as she barrels forward, prepared to intervene for Donovan’s sake.

  Ainsley looks at her, his eyebrows arced up in mild shock. His assessment of her had changed just a twinge, though not in an entirely positive direction.

  “You’ve sentenced yourself to death.” He states. “I admire your boldness, and thank you for making this far easier for me; though, I do wish you would’ve just stayed down. As thanks, I will try to make this as quick as I can."

  “Stop talkin’ ‘n get over ‘ere already.” Liv says, slamming her hands into her chest. Ainsley tightens his grip on his weapon, a shiver running through his body. Usually, Hellfire recruits kept some amiability in their voice. It had been that way for every schmuck he’d had to kill in his early days of stealing. There was no kindness in her voice anymore. Only intent.

  The two rush forward at the same time, each priming an attack before meeting in the middle. Liv throws a cross punch as soon as he’s in range, an explosion already brewing in her gauntlets. He just manages to redirect it with her forearm, sliding into her guard with his weapon raised. Liv grabs the arm, pinning it at his side while raising her leg. He reacts. his leg shooting to lock behind her knee. Out of options, Liv throws her head back, preparing to slam her face into his nose. What she sees halts her, though.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  His weapon was midair, the tip pointed to the ceiling.

  That was the last thing Liv saw before his knee crashed into her jaw.

  Her mandible cracks under the pressure, stars swimming in her eyes as she stumbles, blood oozing from her open mouth. He grabs his spike, his feet landing on the floor with a delicate grace. Liv collects herself, though she doesn’t have enough time to prepare as he capitalizes off the exchange, his weapon poised to pierce her gut. Thinking quick, she claps, an explosion ripping from her gauntlets. Both are sent careening back, though Liv had taken it with far more grace. She had begun to form a mental map of his powers, though she hadn't seen nearly enough to be one hundred percent sure.

  Ainsley glances back nervously, a bead of sweat trailing down his brow. Liv notices the distraction, her eyes wandering to the same conflict as him. The chimera-esque demon was being quickly dismantled by Charlotte, Donovan, and Anthony; though, Anthony’s contributions to the cause could be described as “half baked” at best. It seemed strong to Liv, but it's attacks seemed wild and reckless. There was nothing behind it, not even the base instinct most demons employed. It was a monster through and through, blood and saliva gushing from its mouth as another barrage of attacks slams against its scaled body.

  The strangest part of the altercation was the way people looked at them. Despite the demon's ill intentions, the people around didn’t seem too keen on her team winning. In fact, a few looked like they would jump in on the demon’s side if and when it came to that.

  If he wanted to be distracted for whatever reason, Liv wouldn’t complain. She slams her hand into the floor, cracks spidering out, cratering into rocks and broken chips. She quickly scoops one of the stones, crushing it in her hand, her eyes locked on his. She could see the gears spinning behind his eyes– he knew her abilities. Bruno was now yelling about the thief who got away… Not like Liv had a very subtle one Ainsley couldn’t figure out through observation.

  He preemptively hurled his weapon, sailing through the air like a knife through butter. Like clockwork, he begins rapidly sailing toward it at a speed that matches Charlotte’s, skating across the ground like ice. If Liv had gone through with her throw, he would’ve easily dodged it– maybe a counter attack too. Liv never intended to throw the rock.

  A loud boom rips through the sound of conflict, Liv’s form sailing toward him at top speed. While not the fastest on the ground, maybe a bit faster than the average adult, she was more than capable of out-speeding a car when explosion jumping.

  Liv slams into him, sending them both tumbling to the floor in a heap of limbs and pain. Liv doesn’t waste a second. She pulls herself on top of Ainsley, her knees pinning his arms to the floor, his face exposed to her completely. He still wore that visage of shock and fear, though a begrudging respect glimmered behind those eyes. Whatever he felt, it wouldn’t save him from the flurry of blows that awaited him.

  As Liv pulled her fist back, a sudden feeling of overwhelming wrongness consumed her, a shiver running across her spine, her hairs standing on their ends. She knew in her heart of hearts that she had to end the fight now. His eyes shine for a single moment as she throws her fist forward…

  Then, she finds their positions swapped.

  She blinks in surprise, finding her arms thoroughly pinned. How the hell did that happen? She hadn’t seen him throw his weapon! Even then, she had assumed his power was just following his weapon. This would fall far outside that domain…. Unless…

  Her time for thinking is cut short as Ainsley raises his spike high, plunging it toward her exposed skull. Time begins to slow around her… No, her perception speeds up in relation to time. A voice echoes through her mind, bouncing off the inside of her skull.

  “You seem to be struggling quite a bit.” Bruno comments. “I hardly had the time to slow your perception before your situation became precarious.”

  “How the hell’d he do that?” Liv questions, skipping past the pleasantries entirely. They both knew the pressing issue at hand. No use dragging this out, especially when her life was literally on the line.

  “Synth Aura, I assume. His mastery over his weapon is truly something to behold.”

  “So yer sayin’ he’s a prodigy.” Liv mutters mentally, more a general statement than a question. “Ya gotta be kiddin’ me…”

  “Chin up.” Bruno chastises. “You act as if your own talent is something to be looked over. Truly open your eyes, see his movements. I believe this fight will fall in your favor sooner rather than later.”

  Liv lets a smile spread over her face, power spreading through her body. Her body swells with power, a single movement enough to send Ainsley’s attack sideways. Liv simply pushes herself, her already strong face further exacerbated by the power surging through her muscle. Ainsley wasn’t physically that weak, some might consider him strong for his size. Sadly, one would be hard pressed to find someone as physically strong as Liv.

  Ainsley tosses his weapon back, his hand falling into his coat pocket. Liv just watches, patting herself clean of the dirt that now coated her pants. She had already known he would get away– not like she had an attack prepped anyway. As he gets away, he suddenly throws an object at her. It appears to be a long cylinder, each bulbous end tapering near the center. Holes run down the center, a strange metal circle clattering to the floor as it sails.

  That was when the world went white.

  Pain lanced through Liv’s brain, two of her five senses completely robbed from her in an instant. Though they were gone, Bruno was yelling at her about Ainsley’s approach. What was she supposed to do with that information? She couldn’t exactly see where he was going to stab her! What the hell even was that thing? Some sort of flash device?

  She shakes her head violently, unable to rid herself of the blindness and deafness that overtook her. Fine, she didn’t need them. She still had three of her senses, and Bruno could fill in the gaps. She just had to “truly open her eyes”, whatever that meant.