Fallacy: The Latent World

Prologue

The rain poured down, hissing on the slick pavement. It mercilessly soaked Itzal's black hair, following the raven locks down the gap between his damp sweatshirt collar and neck, finding its way to his frail shoulders. Itzal struggled to keep his balance, panting heavily as he gripped his bloodied arm. Shelter, he had to find shelter.

Collapsing against the side of a warehouse, he paused to gather his strength, grateful for the slight overhang of the tin roof. A large howl of wind whipped past, rattling the massive structures that surrounded him. Pushing off the wall, he fought the gale, somehow finding his way into the warehouse. His knees gave out and he found himself face down on the cold cement.

After a long moment, he rolled onto his back, staring up at the rusted roof. His black locks clung to his face, falling over his eyes. Was he finally safe? Who was he kidding? If he was, it was only temporary.

A chorus of shouts rose above the loud patter of rain, drawing closer. Apparently, his rest was over. Forcing himself to his feet, Itzal hesitantly peeled his soaked sweatshirt off, wincing as it pulled at the large gash on his arm. He swiftly attempted to towel himself off with it, slipping off his drenched shoes at the same time. Hopefully his efforts would eliminate any trail they could follow.

Stumbling forward, Itzal scoured the building for somewhere to hide, weaving his way through the rot that surrounded him. He was careful to avoid any rusted nails laying on the floor, to avoid gashing his foot on the thousands of glass shards that coated the cement. Finally arriving at an abandoned office, he took refuge beneath the desk that still remained. Hopefully, it was enough until it all passed. Panting, Itzal allowed his head to fall back against the wooden pane he leaned on, closing his eyes. He'd lost too much blood.

"Any sign of it?" Itzal tensed, the shouting suddenly audible. They had to be close.

"No, sir. In this rain, it's impossible to follow its trail. It's hard to tell if it's rust or blood that we're tracking, sir."

"Where are them damn dogs?"

"They should be here any minute, sir."

"Tell them to hurry before the scent's washed away." Couldn't he catch a break? Sighing, Itzal drew his knees to his chest, contemplating. He could continue running, although it seemed that wasn't an option anymore. Just sitting up was hard enough. No, running wasn't an option. He could let himself be caught. But that would be a death wish, or worse-than-death wish. No doubt he'd be experimented on like the rest of his captured brethren. That left the one option he had wished to avoid at all costs: fighting.

"Damn them... Couldn't they just let me live in peace?" Itzal grumbled under his breath, slowly uncoiling. It had been a while since he went on the offensive, and he completely loathed the idea of fighting his fellow humans. But if it would keep him alive...

The screeching of brakes broke the steady rhythm of the rain, followed by the sound of a car door slamming and the barking howls of an unknown number of dogs. Five minutes until he was discovered, at the most. Forcing his trembling legs to carry him, Itzal silently struggled up some nearby stairs to a catwalk, gripping the railing tightly. The yelping was growing closer with every second; he didn't have any time to waste falling.

Itzal took perch just above the door he assumed they would come from, sitting crosslegged so he wouldn't pitch forward. The barking of dogs drowned out the rain and he felt his heart pick up pace. If he wasn't successful... Itzal violently shook his head, attempting to remove all doubts from it. He was going to be fine. He had escaped hundreds of situations like this before.

"In here, sir!" Three minutes... Itzal had been a little off.

"Ok, boys, we don't know how strong this Latent is. So let's be careful, ok?" The loud rumble of the loading bay door rippled through the warehouse, and ten or so people slipped inside, pointing their guns at phantoms.

"It was definitely here, sir." A tall, scrawny man nudged the pile of fabric that lay at his feet, as if expecting it to leap at him at any moment. An uneasy murmur spread throughout the hunters.

It was now or never.

Itzal stretched out his good arm, reaching into the darkness that surrounded him, pulling out a mass of shadow from it. Closing his eyes, he pictured the black blob lengthening into a long handle, watched the elegant blade curve fang-like from this handle, all the while feeling it change in his hand. Swiftly, Itzal leapt forward, the shadows still forming the scythe. No time to hesitate, no time to think.

Landing lightly, Itzal shot forward, cutting into the closest man's leg with ease. The man collapsed with a screech, drawing the attention of the other hunters. Already breathing hard, Itzal faced them, shadows rising around him like black flames. Shooting forward again, he gracefully weaved between the men, slicing at the legs.

Breaking free from the ranks, Itzal whipped around yet again, struggling to keep on his feet. The two who still stood blurred for a moment, and he fell to one knee, supporting himself with the shadowy scythe. He needed to end it before he passed out. Rising again, he lurched forward, swiping at the remaining hunters.

One of the two managed to catch the blade, twisting it out of Itzal's grip. The other, one he recognized as the sweatshirt nudger, cocked his gun, smirking. Panicked, Itzal leapt back, darting along the edge, calling back the shadow scythe with an outstretched hand. The two men followed his movements with only their eyes, seemingly calculating his next move. The world had begun to swim, the corners of his vision blackening. He needed to end it, but those two... They weren't going down without a fight.

The tall one suddenly aimed, firing the gun haphazardly. Itzal forced the lingering shadows to protect him, darting toward the pair, the bullet ricocheting off his shell in a burst of sparks. Swiping the shadows aside to see, Itzal found himself facing the barrel of the tall man's gun, unable to move aside fast enough. The bullet tore through his left shoulder, making his already wounded arm useless. He skidded to a stop, falling to one knee.

"Dammit all." Itzal hissed under his breath, gripping his shoulder tightly. He no longer could make out his opponents, the world spinning wildly about him. There was just no way... He had to run. He had to escape.

Another loud shot broke the rhythmic pound of rain, the bullet lodging itself in his gut. Dammit, dammit, dammit. Shakily, he managed to rise to his feet, dragging himself toward the loading bay door. He wasn't going to become an experiment. There wasn't any chance in hell.

"It just won't go down, sir. Any more shots could prove fatal." Panting, Itzal shoved the door open, spilling into the rain. Why couldn't he just live a normal life? Why did he have to be a Latent, of all things? All he wanted was to live a life of peace.

"Give it a minute, Jenks. It won't be able to stay conscious for much longer." Why did they keep referring to him as it? He was human, too, wasn't he? Itzal sloshed on desperately. He wasn't going to give in. He wasn't.

Itzal's legs gave out from under him, no longer able to support his weight. Coughing, he reached forward with his good arm, dragging himself forward. Away. He had to get away. A heavy kick nailed him right where the bullet had taken refuge in his stomach, sending white flashes of searing pain through his whole body. Whimpering, he stretched his arm forward again, forcing his trembling limbs to follow after.

Away...

"Was that necessary, sir?"

"It was just for good measure, Jenks. Filth like this... It can't be allowed to exist." Itzal closed his eyes, gripping at the asphalt as the pain continued to spread.

"Dammit..." He hissed, his shoulders trembling, a thousand questions racing through his mind. The rain fell even harder, mixing with Itzal's blood and tears.

"Dammit!" Itzal shouted it this time, slamming his fist into the ground. He had lost. His life... His two hunters loomed over him, their faces contorted in victorious smiles, seeming to close in on him. He didn't want to go where they were planning to take him. Couldn't they understand that?

Against his will, Itzal's eyes slowly closed, catching one last glimpse of the gray sky before he was tossed into nothingness.