The Human Xenocide

Chapter Sixteen - Here I am

Outside.  He ended up outside in the sun, in the grass behind all the soldiers.  He shoved the man forward and the man stumbled,  his beret fell onto the grass as he crashed down on top of it.  The man forced his body into a tight huddle and squeezed his hands over his head in pain.  The brain freeze.

Sin jumped again, in front of the classroom, in front of the guns.  His attitude had changed in a second, he was no longer confused.  He suddenly knew his goal—to taunt until his beloved Mistress showed up.  He opened his mouth in a dark smile shinning his white teeth. The berets looked for fangs, but he had none, they didn’t know what they were fighting against. 

Sin stood still with guns locked on him and continued his observant smile.  He slowly glanced down the hall and turned his head 180 degrees to the other side.  Twelve of them, sixteen police, he also caught a glimpse of several cop cars on the distant road.  More coming, he was a threat. 

The well-aimed guns followed Sin with skill, ready for anything.  He shifted his hand up and pointed at one of the guards near the middle, “You,” the black hell he had for eyes drilled upon the poor man. Sin didn’t blink, he didn’t move, the man started to scoot back.  The man’s breathing increased, his heart started pounding.  He forced his face away from Sin’s eyes and looked at the ground for some relief.  Whatever was attacking him kept at it.  The feeling of fear and pain crashed into his body as Sin’s frozen eyes pounded down on him.

The man screamed. A gun fired. Sin’s concentration broke and the man let out a gasp while trying to swing his body back up into an offensive stance.  He couldn’t. Sin moved his hands with similar speeds as his Mistress when she was sewing—the bullet flung past him.  His rapid dodge of the bullet forced it into a slight curve.  It sped past him and cracked through the window on a direct route to the freckled boy.  Sin jumped and appeared inches in front of the boy.  With a single rapid gesture he ran his fingers out and caught the bullet in midair.  It was less than six inches from the frightened boy.  Sin waited for the smoke around him to clear and dropped the halted round.  As the bullet clicked on the ground Sin jumped back outside to his original spot.  He didn’t speak a single word as the stare off continued.

But this time something was behind Sin.  A gloved hand with a long black sleeve reached out from behind him and wrapped around his chest.  He didn’t move.  The smoke around the pair faded.  The hand stretched within the glove as if experimenting with it then pushed up against his chest as a head peaked out from behind him.  She was the other one from the clip that hit the news a few days ago, the murderer.  She also fit the description of several 9-1-1 calls last night before.  She was dangerous.

The girl glanced past several guns to a woman followed by a man wielding an oversized camera.  The reporter was marching closer to the circle, the camera on.

She pulled her arm off Sin and with three steps moved herself in front of him.  She had black denim jeans and a thin black jacket—the jacket had a hood she didn’t have on and sleeves that were noticeably longer than her own arms.  The hand she didn’t have wrapped around Sin wielded a single black top hat—its brim exactly four inches wide and in complete unison around the entire hat.  The hat had a slight gleam to it as the fuzzy fabric reflected the dim morning light.

“Good Morning!” she lifted both hands into the air, one of them with the hat, and slowly turned, looking at all the men and taking a quick glance at the camera before deciding to pretend she didn’t see it.  “I’m Mistress Damned, but you,” she locked her eyes on the nozzle of the camera, “can call me by whatever name you see fit.”  She glanced at the circle of guns, “Put those away, you can’t kill me with them.  Him maybe-” she pointed at Sin, “but not me.”  None of the guns budged.