"You bleed, I dine!" The banshee made a sound like smacking lips together.

It lifted its backside and lowered its front for a pounce.

"Gaah!" I gagged at the astringent taste that went into my mouth when the banshee's body disturbed the air with its leap for us.

Colin sheathed his swords. His body glowed white-blue from the fluid movements his arms and hands made in an elegance dance.

I remembered a time when I had sat and watched the old monks from Gat Shiem doing a similar dance in the meditation gardens one sunrise. They had called these movements bidea, (a path). A form of movement-based magic that invoked an ultimate and supreme state of being to manipulate the airborne elements of our world. It was an uncommon practice, not belonging to the Sacred Word.

Colin's ability manipulate the air elements within the cavern using bidea was captivating. I almost forgot we were fighting for our lives. The banshee's curt cry brought me back to reality. It let out another shrill cry when it bounced off our white, protective energy shield.

It bellowed with frustration when the shield blocked its counter attack and scurried about the cavern walls and ceiling for a vantage point.

I yelped when it reared its body over my head, baring its razor-sharp pincers. A concentrated force of white air held back its killing blow. I scurried out of its path to stand behind Colin.

His bidea dance caused a protective force field around us.

"It won't last. Need a plan," his hands sped through in conversation.

I nodded my head, trying to think of something.

We were stuck in a cavern with no obvious exit and our way hampered by sticky webbing that would likely be our end if we got caught within them.

Colin added a creepy fact that he had seen children version of the banshee waiting in the shadows. So, we were surrounded. He was the only one with the skills to fight them.

"How do we get out?" I signed without a clue on how we'd achieve the impossible.

"One way. Kill the Banshees. All of them," he answered nonchalantly.

The way he was able to remain cool and collected was beginning to piss me off.

"Oh yes, kill the banshee, not a problem, it'll be all in a day's work, except for the fact, THAT THEY'RE FREAKY NASTY DEMONS LIKELY TO EAT MY HEAD BEFORE I GET TO THEM!" The words blurted and fumbled out of my mouth and hands.

Speaking my fears seemed to have calmed me. I felt a lot more in control and refreshed after exhaling a few deep breaths.

"Better?" He smirked.

"Quite," I said and nodded coolly.

Jarring thuds and sizzles against the force field remind us of the importance of time.

"I need you to keep the enemy at bay while I find the exit," he ordered and handed me his two guns from holsters that were strapped to his sides beneath his overcoat.

They were slightly different to the ones that Jensen and Wilfred used. His guns were heavier, thicker and had a better grip. There was a round chamber that housed 24 small bullets near the loophole trigger.

He ran me through the basics of releasing the safety, cocking the triggers for firing and disarming, and the actual firing. Also, how to use the tiny tip on the barrel as a viewfinder to lock onto a point of a target.

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