Connor Evans and The Binding Scrolls

I Would Run

The Belu hurtled towards me, just before it hit the ground and jumped. The claws whizzing past me and slamming into the ground with a crunch as the street cracked around its claws. It huffed, trying to rip its left paw free.

Perfect.

I landed, quickly raising my sword and slamming it down into the Belu's paw.

It shrieked, a terrifying scream that sounded like knives on a chalkboard and shook me to my core. It tore its hand from the cement like a chainsaw from flesh and swung its colossal claws right at me. I was knocked back, the air pushed out of my lungs as I hit the ground with a thud.

I groaned, gripping my chest as I gasped for air.

My lungs burned. On the ground, body aching, but my adrenaline grabbed me by the wrists, ripped me from the ground and threw me back at the Belu. 

It was pouncing around like a feral animal, leaping and pawing at its left rack of razor sharp claws, desperately trying to pull out my sword, that was neatly wedged inside of the creature's oozing skin. It was good that it was causing it pain, bad that it wasn't in my hand.

I leapt over to the Belu, my legs feeling like they might buckle and freeze completely. It swung it's paws, the Belu's claws barely tearing my clothes as it swiped across from me. I danced straight past the ginormous blades, gripping my hand around the hilt of my sword as it darted past, still nestled into the flesh of the beast.

It ripped straight out of the cut, the Belu crying out once again while speckles of mystic ink went flying across, falling onto me like thick, gelatinous blood.

It slid across the ground, leaving a trail of the icky substance on the ground like a large brush-stroke done with half-dried paint. In a heartbeat, I was above it again, raising my sword and readying the final slice.

I cried out, bringing down the blade over me with the combined force of my strength and adrenaline. With a slice, it let out another awful shriek as its arm almost popped from its body, landing as a hulking, wobbling mass on the ground. I watched it claw at the arm, almost trying to grab it and reattach it so the monster could stand back up and swallow me whole. 

Before it could reach it, the Belu hissed as its body hardened, it looked like dried mud and as it shuddered and froze, its body shattered like smashed glass. I covered my eyes as the shards flew around me, darting past my head and hitting my arms like thousands of needles.

I stood, Fortis in my hand, black ooze dripping from my arms, heart still beating at a thousand miles an hour.

Stephanie.

"Stephanie!" I called, but she was already in the middle of standing up. Once she managed to pull herself onto her knees, she scrambled through her bag of Scrolls, tearing one out and shuffling over to the broken pieces, picking up lost shards and inspecting them before dropping it and moving onto the next.

"Look for a... an onyx, obsidian looking thing... perfectly refined..." she mumbled, sputtering after she had spoke. I rushed to her side, pulling her up and propping her over my shoulder. She went into a coughing fit, only managing to make out "bag" and "bring" through her choky breaths.

After I had brought her the dusty bag, she quickly rummaged through it and pulled out a fresher looking Scroll, hugging it to her chest like a child and their teddy bear.

A short moment past and she released a long breath, the kind you'd take in a hot bath after a long, tiring day of work. I furrowed my brow, "why didn't you do that first?"

"I need the... the thing."

"The thing?"

"Yeah, you know, the thing. Everybody needs a thing and I need the thing  that was, at the time, a higher priority than my collapsed ribcage and possible internal bleeding. That Belu was heavy by the way, a very large individual indeed."

"Steph,"

"Yeah, yeah..." she chuckled to herself, standing up from the ground (with a great deal of ease, this time) and restarting her search.

I shook my head again, not entirely sure why I cared so much about her safety all of sudden. It was the same sort of feeling I got when I saw her in trouble - a friend, in trouble. I just had to help her. 

I felt another tang of emotion from my hand, guardian, it seemed to say, radiating the power of a protector. I guess that was me, good 'ol Connor, protecting the world from certain death. I smiled to myself, even with my hands still covered in the guck, I instinctively tossed the little pen up into the air to catch-

Wait a minute.

"Steph!" I called, excitedly.

"What do you want?"

"I turned it off!"