Messengers

Moonvibe Part 1

The silence of the midnight hour was disturbed by shoes slapping water puddles on rain-soaked pavement as a lone figure ran frantically through a grungy alley. He kept tossing vigilant glances over his shoulders as he panted for breath, hoping he'd made a clean escape. Upon reaching the poorly lit end of the alley, the man realized the err of his decision to race into an unknown alley. It was a dead end, which would be literal for him if she caught up to him.

He quickly searched the brick walls rising out of sight around him for a way out. There wasn't enough time to backtrack through the alley if is she was still hot on his trail. Considering that he'd just pummeled her brawny friend in the crimson tights, and walloped the mowhawked man she'd been talking with, he didn't like his chances if she cornered him. Not one bit. He was only sent for the mowhawked man anyway. She had been a very unexpected surprise, one he wasn't prepared to deal with and he'd barely escaped her the first time. He had to find a way out of the alley, or else.

The man's panicked search came to a breathless stop when he noticed a side door in the alley just a little ways behind him. He sprinted back to the door, fighting instantly with its handle as he prayed that it wouldn't be locked, but whoever he prayed to wasn't listening. The door was bolted shut. He groaned in frustration, then began to assault the door with a series of kicks that echoed like thunder in the narrow alley. He tossed a look way back at the entrance near the street to see if the sounds of his struggle had brought any unwanted attention.

That's when he saw her silhouette step into view. The man froze, holding his breath to remain as motionless as possible in the hopes that maybe, just maybe she couldn't see him so far into the dark alley. He wasn't so lucky. An unfriendly blade appeared in her hand after she flicked her arm to summon it from its hidden sheath, and her sultry form broke out into a full-on dash in his direction. The man gulped fearfully, then he rammed the door shoulder-first in a desperate battering attempt that forced the door open. Stumbling inside, he disappeared into a dusty warehouse.

Az reached the door of the warehouse seconds later. The angry blond stepped through cautiously, eyeing the seemingly endless aisles of stacked crates and towers of empty pallets in search of her prey. She cursed under her breath at the thought of him getting away as she twiddled the knife in her hand. The old building was packed to the gills with clutter and enough hiding places to keep her busy for days. He could be sneaking out of another door right now, or he could be buried like a tick amongst all the clutter, just waiting for her growing impatience to make her give up the search. She cursed to herself again. The knife in her hand was begging for a taste of his blood, and after what this guy did to Cayce and Pyro, she wanted to quench that thirst badly.

Just as Az picked an aisle to search first, a stealthy black form dropped to the floor in front of her, blocking her path in a crouched ball. The angry blond was startled, recoiling into a defensive posture with her knife out front. This wasn't the guy she was looking for. This was something else entirely.