FIGHT OR FLIGHT
1245 Words
Michael glowered at her. Underneath his fury was disappointment. He’d expected maybe an introduction to whatever this whole thing was. And afterward, hopefully some trauma-bonding, not such a brusque dismissal.
“You don’t have to be so mean, you know. I have every right to know what’s going on.”
As he continued to speak, the girl growled in frustration and broke into a run straight for him. Her expression was fierce, and he was pretty sure he heard her mutter the word “Idiot.” Before she tackled him to the floor.
He released a loud ‘oof’ as his back and shoulder blades connected with the ground painfully. Her long hair felt soft as it tickled his face. She smelled like flowers, sunlight and lavender. He could have stayed on the floor forever with her, but she was already on the move. Getting up to her knees and stretching out her hand, murmuring something under her breath. A flash of light from her outstretched hand blinded him temporarily, causing him to squint his eyes shut.
A familiar loud screech resounded from just above his head and there was a hiss and gurgling sound like something thick and slimy melting. Michael knew she’d just saved his life. Again. Talk about embarrassing.
“How many zombies are there?” He complained,
“They aren’t zombies, you dolt. They’re ghouls.”
“What’s that?” Michael asked.
“Creatures of the night, cursed and mostly harmless.” She explained, wiping her palm on her skirt and scanning the rest of the room. “These seem to have been altered though. Somebody is experimenting with some very dark forbidden magic.”
Michael started to laugh because it was just ridiculous. What next? A witch was going to fly in on a broom and a pointed hat and wave her wand and turn them into piglets?
The girl glowered down at him, her fingers twitching as if she was considering slapping him. He gulped, realizing he’d just voiced his thoughts out loud and offended her.
He’d seen her throw knives with deadly accuracy twice now, as well as produce a bright light that could melt zombies from her hand. He decided he didn’t want to get on her bad side. He stood to his feet quickly and dusted off his pants.
They were standing close enough that he could see the tendrils of black interwoven through her cloudy gray eyes. He was glad to see he was about half an inch taller than her. Her hands drifted to her waistband. A suspicious look flew across her brows.
“Where did you come from?” She demanded, brandishing a new blade.
Michael’s hands shot up in the air.
“Bathroom!” He cried out. Just how many of those things did she have hidden?
“I usually come here to wash up in the bathroom, okay? I had nothing to do with these zombie thingies. If you didn’t notice that one you used for target practice was about to attack me.”
For a long moment the girl studied him, she seemed to believe him because she relaxed a bit.
“I’ve been tracking them for hours now. All the way from school. I was in art class when I noticed them. So I snuck out. Someone sent them out to hunt. I wanted to know who their target was.”
Michael shrugged. “It was just me in here. I think. Although the owner’s out front checking out his sign, that kind of got fried.”
His stomach twisted as he remembered the events leading up to that. Funny enough, strings of weird occurrences like this happened to him a lot. This was just the first time he'd had others involved. Usually he was the only one that noticed these things.
The girl’s lips turned down at the corners. “They couldn’t have been after you. You don’t have the mark.”
“What mark?”
The puddle of goo on the floor started to bubble up behind the girl. She didn’t seem to notice, she was focused on sizing him up. Her eyes probing. Michael felt something like mist creeping into his subconscious and he shook it off, shuddering at the strangeness of it.
“How’d you do that?” The girl demanded suddenly, her voice sharp like the crack of a whip. There was accusation and mistrust in her voice.
The puddle formed the head of a ghoul.
“Uhmm...” Michael pointed behind her.
She continued to look at him, her eyes taking on a slight glow. He felt his head clouding up and again shook it off and the feeling dispersed. The girl's jaw tightened.
“How are you blocking me out of your mind?”
“There’s a zombie behind you.” Michael said, wondering what he’d done now.
It was hard to keep up with this girl’s moods. One second she was calm and the next she was looking at him like he was her sworn enemy.
“Answer me! How are you doing that? No one’s ever able to block me out of their minds.”
Michael was sure she’d lost it now. The ghoul behind her stretched out its arms that were still stomps.
“Look, I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” Michael retorted, it was difficult to convince this girl he wasn’t the enemy and at the same time keep an eye out on the thing behind her.
“Liar!” She hissed. Her shoulders tensed up. “You’re definitely a mage. You’re just masking your presence somehow. You almost had me fooled.”
“Listen, can you just handle that zombie behind you?”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes.
“Oldest trick in the book. Really? I’m just supposed to fall for that while you make your escape?”
Michael wanted to stomp his foot in frustration,
“I’m being serious.”
The ghoul’s upper body was now fully formed, it was like it was climbing out from its own goo. Once its knees were solid, it grinned at him and in a split instant he knew something was about to go very wrong if he didn’t act fast.
Michael made a split-second decision, risking having his limbs decapitated as he grabbed the girl and shoved her out of the way.
The ghoul catapulted itself at him, and he held up his hands to shield himself, turning his face away with his eyes closed.
He knew he was going to die. She saved his life, and now he was giving his life to save hers. He felt a tickling sensation in his palms and assumed this was what decaying under a ghoul’s touch felt like. The smell of burnt tires and funky old socks filled the room,
The girl let out a loud gasp, and he opened his eyes, and horror filled his features. The entire aisle was aflame, smoke rising in the air, plastics and nylons and snacks melted and dripping to the floor.
There was a burnt, blackened stomp that looked like the top half of a ghoul on the floor. The girl was looking at him, frozen in absolute shock with her mouth open and her chest heaving. There was black soot on her face and parts of her eyebrows were singed off, and a strand of her hair smoldered.
“You’re a fire mage?” She whispered, her eyes bewildered.
- Writer
