Beastars: A Symphony of Life

Chapter 124: Duel of Demons

"Come on!" he shouted, outstretching his arms. "Nail me to your fucking cross!"

Adler pulled the trigger. Razor dodged and a small section of glass shattered. The black leather clad hybrid dropped to the floor with the glass rain. He knelt in a crouched position with his head down, shielding his mask from the sharp edges that cut through his leather jacket. He stood and brushed off the debris. He flipped his sword to hold it backwards with the blade held against his arm. He stood there waiting.

Adler pulled another shot off and Razor rolled out of the light, melding into the shadows of the pews around the vigilante.

"Not very sporting of a reaper," the killer muttered from the darkness.

Adler snapped around to the sound of skittering, like a large creature was crawling around on the ground with incredible speed. The sound died down and he just stood there at the ready. He held his breath and quieted his heart beat. He heard a faint, muffled breathing directly behind him. He snapped around and the gun was punched from his hand. It was sent clattering to the ground and Razor swung his other arm in another punch. Adler had only a split second to remember that, attached to this arm was a sword. He brought his own sword up, unsheathing it to parry and the two blades met with a resounding crash. They stood there locked together for a few seconds before Razor slid his blade down. The hybrid crouched under Adler's swing and went to drive the point of his sword straight up through the vigilante's ribs. Adler wasn't expecting this and jumped out of the way, but not before the blade tore through his side. There was so much force behind the thrust that it broke through Adler's military grade armor, splitting open skin and flesh. He grunted in pain and took a page from Razor's book, rolling into the shadows.

"You know I can see you in the dark," the hybrid called. "Being a carnivore and all."

Adler rolled behind a pew and sat with his back against the seat. He needed to catch his breath.

"Like my fighting style?" he called. "I created it myself. Usually ineffective, as most swordmasters would say as it leaves me open to ninety percent of all attacks, but given my anatomy and genetics, it works for me. And in all honesty, fuck 'em"

The sword came down directly next to Adler's head. It almost drove into his shoulder. The vigilante scrambled away as Razor tore his sword from the wood. The killer stood, balanced on the benches like a gymnast, watching the deer as he stood himself and readied. The cut in Adler's side wasn't deep, but it was long and still hurt. He had had worse.

Razor flipped off and slashed with his backwards sword fighting style. It was aggressively fast and hard. Adler barely had time to parry the offensive attacks. He was so used to being on the offensive himself, the defensive was sort of alien to him. He was at a major disadvantage. He thought he had a pretty good dance of death? Razor made him look like a novice. He jumped. He twirled, he flipped, he spun, he slid, he stepped, and lunged and every single time he had a way to toss and spin his blade, keeping the volley going. Adler was getting tired and wearing out. He slashed when he could but mostly he just parried and blocked. He lost track of Razor's blade in the speed and ferocity of his attack and he felt the pressure of the metal as the blade penetrated clean through the plating to drive directly into his stomach.

Adler and Louis screamed in pain as the sword was driven into his abdomen, the sensation of the sharp metal penetrating his skin, muscles, and organs was worse than any injury he had felt before. Blood poured from the wound and down the sword. It felt like a searing red hot fire poker was burning him from the inside out. And Razor kept. Pushing. It. In. Adler was coughing up blood and the liquid joined the rest that matted the hybrid's leather hoodie. He felt death close in around him. The look behind the mask was insane and filled with a sick, aroused blood lust.