章節 5: The One Who Knocks
"What do you mean, weird?" She asks and folds her arms across her chest. "Didn't it work?" Her mentor cocks her head and pats her student's.
"Do you feel any different?" Kimle sighs, shaking her head. She'd like to go meet the halfling again. At the same time, throwing herself out the window feels just as tempting. "Then it didn't work, sweetie. I'm just not sure how to make this go away without killing the man, if I'm going to be honest, and even then it's not certain to work. We should go meet him again soon, though, to give your mind some peace. You know, I'm not sure if I should tell you this, but this is actually a two-way curse." The mentor suddenly seems amused by something on Kimle's face, and she has to think before she figures out that it's because she's not surprised. So what if she already knew that he's cursed to be obsessed with her too. It's not important, just make it go away.
"He knows. You should've seen his face when he figured it out," she says, trying hard to sound overbearing and as if it doesn't faze her. She wants to see him, but she probably shouldn't right now. Hopefully, he's not sitting in his cell thinking about her, too. Humans are weaker than demons, they probably experience this sort of thing often, and have some way to deal with it. Her mentor chuckles.
"I've never seen you wear so many expressions in such a short time before in the entire time I've known you! Maybe I should've teased you with a spell like this myself! It would have been a lot of fun! At least for me," She ends her sentence with a velvety soft tone, and it makes her student shiver. Kimle returns to her tea, hands still making the cup rattle against the tiny plate.
Her mentor instructs her on a couple of ways to stop thinking about the halfling in the basement while she's waiting to get sent out on another hunt. Chatting over a drink, watching a movie, shopping. Kimle's certain none of that is going to help, the two women were always too dissimilar. However, she's almost certain that a round in the ring with one of her fellow hunters will help. Out of courtesy, she stays with her old friend for another hour or so before excusing herself. As she's tying her laces, the older of the two comments, with a sleazy grin, that she'll make sure the youngest has unlimited access to the prison. Just knock on the door, and they'll let her all the way down to his cell. She nods, doesn't even smile, and her mentor's high-pitched laughter follows her into the elevator.
It's midnight or close when she leaves the building. The streets are less crowded, but people are still scurrying to their destinations, in the damned cold. She crosses the bridge at a near jog and covers in the building on the other side, the recreation center, where the temperature is at least thirty degrees higher than outside. The smell of dirty mats and sweaty bodies feels more like home than her tiny, low-rank apartment. She heads for the lockers on auto-pilot, deep in thought. Why did her mentor absolutely have to say that part with her access? Because of that, she'll have to go see the damn halfling before she goes home for the night, see how he's being treated, maybe strike a deal with the succubi who's in charge of him. It's not fair.
Why does she have to care about him? He's just a half demon half inbred, filthy mammal. It's his fault, really, because he was born with those dirty horns, which are probably half human bone too. That train of thought makes her gag as she's changing out of her uniform into her gym clothes. She has to get her mind off of the man in the basement. At least for a little while. Then, however, she'll have to find a way to solve the mess, maybe it doesn't even have to include killing him. Why would she even think that? He should be dead already, why oh why didn't she kill him when she had the chance? She ties up her hair, takes a deep breath, and steps into the room with the mats.
Not surprisingly, the gym is buzzing even at this time. However now, as opposed to earlier in the day, there's a majority of hunters. A few of the rings are occupied, with a couple of people in the audience as well. Her side gets a glance from an acquainted hunter, and she glares at him. The whole "disappearing horn" situation should have spread like fire in dry grass by now, but that look makes her blood boil nonetheless. Maybe kicking this guy's ass will make everything better! She waves him into a circle and takes her stance. By his medium-length slightly curled horns, she can tell he's the same class as her, made for silent killing. Good. Lots of strengths, but also weaknesses.
As soon as he takes his stance, he rushes at her. He's fast but predictable. Ignoring the dull pain above her hip, she steps out to his right instead of his left. The shock on his face as he tries to adjust his point of mass is hilarious. She jabs at his lowest rib, careful not to break it. He drops, rolls and is back on his feet. His frown gives her goosebumps of pleasure. She rolls her shoulders and takes her stance again. He rises to do the same, finally understanding that she's not to be messed with, injured or not. She grins.
The next time she comes at her, he's changed tactics, but this is also easy to see through. He swipes, and as she steps away he reaches for her hair. This one's even more predictable than a human. All she has to do is bend back, plant her hands on the mat, and bring her knee up. It connects with his chin, and he's thrown onto his back. In a final attempt to get back at her, he reaches for her leg and grabs hold of her ankle, ripping it away from under her and forcing her down on one knee. A smooth jab goes into her wound and she hisses, driving her elbow into his temple. He collapses, unconscious, and someone in the audience cheers. There's only a couple of seconds where he's out though, and she helps him to his feet as soon as he wakes up. The smirk on his thin lips makes it almost impossible not to break his nose. She doesn't want to get suspended though and throws her head away so she can't see it.
"Fuck you!" She growls and recoils when he tries to pat her shoulder. He laughs, returning to his friends, who immediately begins to mock him. That's what he gets for looking down at her, though. It was fun, but now there's blood seeping through her bandages, and a lot more eyes on her. The next one she takes one is a tall, broad-shouldered class with horns that look more like an elk's antlers. She was whispering about the blood on her shirt, and it ticked off the smaller of the two. The taller they are, the harder they fall, truly. At least the two of them are able to laugh it off afterward.
Two hours and eight matches later, she's the unproclaimed champion of the room, with only one unfortunate loss against a tall, lanky man whos horns are both broken off near the roots. He was much stronger than she anticipated. The way he picked her up, she could just as well have been a child. It was a fair loss. After the match, though, he doesn't take his eyes off of her. She notices, of course, but doesn't act on it. She's ready to leave when he pulls her to the side by her arm and stars talking to her in a low, serious voice.
"Why do you smell like us?" he asks, genuinely confused. She stares at him, eyes wide, for as long as it takes the message to hit home. He's the same class as the halfling's father, and his dirty horn in her system has made her give off a scent like one of their kind. She swallows, tugs her arm out of his grip and runs to the lockers. He can't follow her there, and without changing, she grabs her stuff and leaves in a hurry. She doesn't stop running until she's standing in the elevator and it closes its doors at the same time as she sees the tall winner enter the building.
Her apartment is smaller than her mentor's kitchen, and reeks of the trash she keeps forgetting to take out, but with the security in the building, at least she feels safe there. She drops onto the bed, face buried deep in the pillow, and something that's been at the back of her mind, irritating her the past few hours, springs forth like a trap. He's down there, in a cold, dimly lit cell, probably being starved, and she's fighting his uncle, smelling like him. What the fuck is she going to do? She fills her lungs and screams into the pillow. It lasts for a good minute, long enough to annoy her neighbor and provoke a knock on the wall between them. She kicks back.
Half an hour later, she's showered, dressed and ready to leave again. She'll find out what she'll do on the way. Maybe find a way to get him to cooperate, maybe find a quick way to kill him. Anything. She'll want to get a medical as well, to check her blood. In any case, she grabs a steak from her dinner a few days ago, and leaves her room, only to return immediately. She lays back down on the bed chewing the tough meat and stares at the roof. Sleep creeps in on her, and with it, nightmares of the prison under the ground, where the half demon half human sits, waiting for her. The next morning she wakes in a sweat, but she knows what she's going to do.
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