The Red of the Writing

Twelve | Rija

Right?

Just when I turn around, there's another thump, followed by a clatter.

I pause, craning my head back towards the door.

One noise? I would understand. But three? My stomach churns with anxiety. Something's definitely wrong.

I reach for the door's handle, only to hesitate, my palm hovering above the knob. What if something isn't wrong? What if I end up barging into her room for nothing? I know I wouldn't want my privacy invaded like that.

There's an even louder thump, and then, an ear-piercing scream.

My qualms vanish instantly, and I all but tear the door off its hinges, knife in my other hand.

I can hardly believe my eyes at the scene that's before me. My steps falter.

Aurora lays on the ground, hair splayed around her head in a messy brown halo. There's a thin trickle of blood running from her neck.

And a black-clothed figure stands above her, holding a knife, the edge covered in a red sheen of blood.

It takes me a moment to process what I'm seeing, along with the fact that my steps have slowed down considerably.

Mjiva! Cursing myself for my hesitation, I rush into the fray, gripping my knife tightly.

I have to admit, for being weaponless and definitely having been caught off guard, Aurora's holding her own decently well. Her movements are sloppy and panicked, clearly not those of a trained fighter, but she's putting up a fierce fight.

As for the assailant, well, they're definitely experienced. They dodge most of Aurora's flying fists and legs with a well-practiced grace, and take the ones they can't without wavering. One hand covers Aurora's mouth.

The only advantage I have is the element of surprise, and I make sure to use it. Ramming my shoulder into the attacker's body, I nearly lose my footing as they stumble and nearly crash into the bed. Evidently, they were not expecting another person.

I try to recover, bringing my knife up for a slash at their torso, but they're quicker. They whip around to face me, swinging a pillow in front of them as a makeshift shield. My knife cuts through the pillow, but the assailant is unharmed. To make matters worse, they take advantage of my surprise at the unexpected move, kicking my ankles hard. The attack sends me crashing to the ground. My knife skids away from me.

My head makes impact with the floor, and I groan at the pain that explodes at the back of my skull.

Move!

It takes all my willpower to force my eyes open. I expect to see the attacker, standing above me with their knife. About to end my life.

But they're not there.

I can still hear the noises of struggle, though. Turning my head and ignoring the tears that have gathered in my eyes as a result, I realize that they're heading back towards Aurora, who's trying to scramble away.

Something clicks into place in my mind.

The attacker had me down, unable to defend myself. They could have killed me. But they didn't. Why?

Because they're not after all of us. They're after Aurora. Only Aurora.

Before I can question why, there's the sound of footsteps, and another person enters my line of sight, going after the assailant with a dagger in hand.

Tanik.

I breathe out a sigh of relief. If there's anybody who has a chance against this assailant, it's Tanik.