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She was paler than most of her kind. I pondered for a moment whether to think of her as simply light gray, or perhaps silvery blue, but that was unimportant to the task at hand. Instead directing my attention to her posture, I noted that she seemed to be... listening.

...Oh no.

Backing up further into the shrubbery, I changed positions yet again that day--this time sliding closer, while being safely hidden under the cover of rough blue-green grass. I take a moment to study her horns, knowing the little time I have left should be devoted to ensuring I escape alive. They're nothing special, as far as I can tell. In fact, they're worse than usual, because one is nothing but a splintered golden orange stump. Curious--their horns rarely ever broke, even during the most... extreme uses of them. I knew that they normally hated their horns touched--by anything, not just other living organisms--but she probably wouldn't hesitate to give me a quick jab, or perhaps even try to embed one of the fragments of the broken one in my skin. My research was soon paused, though, as something nearly caused me to flinch in suprise. She began to turn towards my hiding spot. Knowing that doing it may be my death's delivery, I quickly stood up.

I've been expecting you.

Of course--telepathically, anyway. I've felt her presence in the back of my mind for a while now.

Drop the weapon.

Why should I?

I can hear your every thought as clear as can be. You should be quaking in fear right now, but you're ever so bold, aren't you? I'm impressed you've made it this far.. seeing as you have... a troubled mind, to say the least. A dark laugh followed.

Glaring at her, I kept a tight hold on my gun and knife. I was NOT letting this opportunity pass by.

Then her words suddenly fit.

Harsh.

Drop them. Now.

"Why should I listen to you?" I asked. "You aren't a figure of authority--in my mind, at least."

"You're a cocky little thing," she said in a voice that dripped with foul sweetness, like poisoned honey. "You seem to think... you're in control. Well, hate to break it to you, kid, but you're not."

I don't want to think about her words. They hurt me more than ever now, that she's right here. Now that I can see her clear pain as she speaks them. I regret ever coming out here. I don't want to harm Cirque, but I have no choice. I need to do this. I need to stay confident.

Even though that's the least favored trait in the presence of one of her sign.

"Go ahead, try. I bet you'll be disappointed." she continues.

I raise my gun and shoot straight at her head. With a swift movement, she's moved, and the bullet only hits the stub of a horn. She winces, but she's still giving me that horrid look, with that horrid smile, displaying all her fangs, giving me a feeling this is predator and prey, not equals in combat.

And I'm the prey.


[To be continued.]

"Stop resisting. Your species is naturally full of bloodthirst."

She knew exactly what to say to hurt me. She knew I hated to kill, but I did it without a choice. I stepped forward.

"Look, I know you're having fun showing off for me, and perhaps any spectators who happen to pass by, but I'm not impressed. To me, all you are is another task to complete." I say.

Her look darkens. I swear, I see hints of madness in those orange and black eyes. A slight forcedness to her speech. To her actions.

Is this.. her? Or some foul mind slave? I bite my lip as I try to remember the signs of it.

Shuddering, stuttering, a feeling of despair lingering. A glance around, paranoia, quickness to assert their actions are of their own accord. Worst case scenario, she's been taken to the point of pure insanity. She fit nearly half of them.

So now, I'm pretty sure she's not doing this because she wants to, but because she's been forced to. By whom, though? There's no other people present as we duel.

"I won't hurt you if you listen," she says suddenly, changing her mind unnaturally. This nearly confirms my suspicions.

"Look. Cirque. I know you're in there. Break through."'

"Smart child," she said, then lost the grin.

And everything else.


[To be continued.]

Jumping backwards as it happened, I watched as some unseen force finished the job for me. Deep navy gore splattered onto everything--the ground, the trees, even me. Feeling both repulsed at the blood that dirtied my clothing and saddened that I was unable to complete my mission on my own, I watched as Cirque fell to the ground, torn to shreds, little exaggeration. Waiting until the aura of power abated, I began to edge towards her.

"You stand there as if this was your doing, as if you could bring yourself to do such a thing, as if you became a murderer. Cocky as ever, I see," she said, sitting up, then wincing at the many cuts all over her body.

"Still feeling it? Or will you take mercy on an old soul searching?" she added, glaring up at me.

"I'll let you off this time, but know that my threat still stands, no matter how many times I defy it," I told her.




Soon, I left. Cirque went back to adventuring, hopefully finding somewhere to stay.

It was a long journey, but I finally arrived back home. I took a moment to glance in the mirror.

I was still soaked in her blood, but I could see my basic appearance. I had a oddly slight figure for someone in my career, but that didn't mean I wasn't strong. I brushed some hair out of my silvery purple eyes, running my fingers through the short blonde fringe that covered one of my eyes, a trait of mine I've come to quite admire, however vain it sounds. Heading out of my room to go take a shower, all thoughts of earlier events were left behind along with the bloody clothes.

[To be continued.]