𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 (𝐃𝐚𝐛𝐢 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

39

As much as you longed to join the fight, this was a situation in which you knew it would be better to run. But as you prepared to do just that, a pained cry came from your father's lips. You turned to see that although the higher up was still weakened from the hits he's taken, your father now stumbled back. Looking closer you saw the dark veins that had begun to web up his throat. 

Snake venom. 

The bastard was poisonous, of course he was. And from the looks of it, it was fast acting. The Higher-Up approached him, a gleaming knife in hand. He went for a killing blow, but his opponent moved just quickly enough to allow the blade to land in his shoulder instead of his heart. But it would only buy him a few seconds.

Your father shot you a pleading look, one that told you to escape, to get away from this fight. And part of you wanted to listen. You had no attachment to this man. Despite the things he'd just told you, you'd spent most of your life believing he'd abandoned you. Knowing the truth didn't suddenly repair all of the damage that had been done. 

But that other part, maybe the 'heroic' part that Touya had so often chastised you for, had your feet moving in the opposite direction that they should've been. You had no weapons, and the power inside of you was still struggling to break through the barriers caused by the device around your neck, so the move you made wasn't pretty or coordinated. It was merely a desperate attempt to turn the Higher Up's focus away from his weakened opponent.

With as much momentum as the room allowed for, you ran and threw yourself onto the snake man's back, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. Your still-injured body protested from the movement, but you held tight. Even as he began thrashing and hitting you against the wall to get you off. Sharp nails dug into your arms, tugging at them with strength that sent blood dripping to the floor. "Stupid bitch," he grunted, wasting precious air on a petty insult. 

His hands dropped from your arms, and you started to think that maybe he'd finally lost enough breath to stop fighting back when suddenly there was a burning pain in your side. It startled you enough that your grip faltered and the Higher-Up was able to toss you to the floor.

Darkness crept around the edges of your vision as your head crashed against the tile and the sharp object in your side shifted. "It's really a shame that we can't kill you." The man wiped his mouth. "But I guess I'll just have to enjoy making you wish that you were dead instead."

"Fuck you." You managed to smile, "You're an idiot if you believe that'll happen." 

He stepped forward and you watched his movement carefully, just a little bit closer. "Your dear old dad is minutes away from death while you're lying helplessly on the floor. Yet I'm somehow the idiot?"

"Yeah, you are." 

The man standing above you went rigid as your father shoved the knife through the back of his neck. "A basic rule of battle," he grunted, "Never leave the knife in your opponent's body after stabbing them." He yanked the blade out and blood began to pour. "Because all you're doing is providing them with a weapon they can use against you."

The Higher-Up crumpled to the ground with gurgling gasps, choking on his own blood. Your father held out a hand to pull you to your feet. "We've gotta go."

"Yeah," you shut your eyes, wincing as you pulled the sharpened pencil that had been stabbed into your side. The man on the ground had finally gone quiet, and you quickly moved around him to grab two of your shirts from off the ground. 

You tied it around your waist as your father took you toward the hallway. Although he'd managed to pull himself together enough to bring down that last attack, he wasn't looking good at all. The dark veins continued to slither up his neck, and the knife wound was bleeding profusely. You handed him the other shirt to staunch the flow.