Eliza's fingers fumbled in her messy purse, searching for her keys. Her heart raced as she watched her mom's figure vanish into the shrouded night ahead. Without hesitation, she broke into a sprint, chasing after the fading silhouette. Yet, a movement at the edge of her vision pulled her attention like a magnet.
She halted abruptly, her breath catching as her eyes fixed on the elusive dark figure. It emerged from the shadows and glided onto the road, a silent wraith navigating the asphalt currents. The sight triggered a flicker of recognition deep within Eliza. It was the same figure she'd glimpsed before, back when mermaids attacked her at the beach. An eerie suspicion tingled across her skin – was this the mysterious savior's lingering presence?
Disbelief mingled with her exhale, forming a faint cloud of warmth in the crisp night air. Clutching the strap of her purse, Eliza turned to gauge Miss Canary's reaction. The golden lights were extinguished, and Dawn's silhouette advanced towards the direction her mother had rushed off.
Eliza pivoted to face her friend, her brows furrowed in confusion. Dawn's expression held a mixture of concern and determination. "That's your mom. We need to figure out the reason she's going to that place the lady in the store was talking about," she remarked.
Eliza's voice brimmed with defiance. "That's up to me, not you, Dawn."
Her gaze shifted to the witch store looming behind them, where the trees in the forest rustled as if concealing a secret. When she turned again, the elusive figure was still there, not too far ahead.
"I think there's a mystic around here. I just saw someone running away down the road," Eliza said, eyes narrowing as the figure darted between parked cars. "This seems like witch business. My mom can wait. It's her life, and she can decide for herself. She's hidden so much already..." Her lips formed a resolute line, and from her purse, she withdrew a broomstick. "I'd rather confront a potential mystic threat."
As her fingers pressed onto the broomstick, it pulsed to life, emitting a soft, radiant glow. This was her chance to put her newly acquired skills, courtesy of Jared, to the test. She could feel the transformation within her, waiting to unfurl its full potential.
"Woah, you've definitely got my attention. Where's the mystic?" Dawn's tone carried a mix of curiosity and concern.
Dawn rooted around in her purse for the pepper spray she'd shown Eliza back at home. Her stance shifted, embodying a blend of defensiveness and determination. She brushed her hair aside and then locked onto the figure ahead. Without hesitation, she surged forward, leaving Eliza in her wake. Eliza quickened her pace and called out to her friend.
"Dawn, you're crazy! Get back here!"
In the wild rush of the chase, Dawn's voice sliced through the wind, carrying her urgent concern. "If we don't catch up to it, it'll be gone. What if it kills an innocent?"
Eliza's heart pounded in rhythm with her steps, but she couldn't ignore the truth in her friend's words. "You're being reckless! We can't just charge at a mystical creature," she retorted.
The gnawing need to uncover the truth burned within Eliza. Who was the mysterious savior? Was that water-bound figure truly a witch? Her quest for answers propelled her forward.
Dawn's fiery determination mirrored something darker, more dangerous. Her single-mindedness seemed to crave the figure's demise, casting her in an eerie light.
With newfound agility, Eliza surged onto the street, tailing the enigmatic figure. The cold air stung her lungs, yet she gracefully weaved around parked cars, outpacing Dawn. Vaulting over rocky obstacles, Eliza picked up Dawn's panicked shouts behind her.
Her breath, steady and controlled, flowed easier than she expected. Strangely, the chaos amplified her clarity. A sudden collision with a car jolted her senses, setting off its alarm. Her eyes snapped up just in time to witness the figure vaulting over a fence and melting into the night.
Eliza retreated to the sidewalk, her breath ragged. Dawn joined her, both panting from the chase. "I should've thrown my purse at it," Dawn muttered, frustration tinging her voice.
Eliza chuckled softly, a wisp of a smile tugging at her lips. "As much as I'd love to see that, we need a plan."
As the sky wept droplets of rain, Eliza glanced at their distance from the car. "Guess we've ventured farther than expected."
Dawn shot her a lopsided grin. "Look on the bright side—unexpected cardio, right?"
But then, a shadow slithered through the edges of Eliza's senses. Silence fell like a shroud, her ears straining for any anomaly. The chilling scent of decay reached her, and the streetlight's erratic flicker seemed to echo her heart's unease.
Before she could react, Dawn was hurled across the street, a cry of pain punctuating the scene. Eliza's own breath hitched as the air grew tense, her skin prickling with an undeniable presence. Her heartbeat drowned out every sound, almost drowning out her thoughts.
Dread tightened its grip as frigid, rough hands clamped around Eliza's throat from behind. The scales and coldness pressed against her skin, her frantic attempts to pry them away resulting in searing scratches across her palms. Her voice caught, replaced by a strangled gasp as agony surged, her world narrowing to the vice-like grip on her neck.
"Stay cool, Eliza. You've got this. You're a witch, for crying out loud. Time to show some magic mojo!" Eliza's inner monologue screamed at her, urging her to keep her wits about her. Fear had no place in this battle, especially not when her powers were at her fingertips.
With a determined breath, Eliza centered herself. Panic fizzled out, replaced by a laser-focused determination to find a way out. The memory of standing up to Alex in the store surged within her – the same protectiveness she'd felt then, she was feeling now. It was like a fire burning in her veins, demanding her to take charge.
As her heart thrummed, Eliza silenced the chaos in her mind. Her plan formed quickly, every move calculated. Her broomstick became her ally, an extension of her will. She sized up her attacker, her eyes locked onto the target. It was time to turn the tables.
Eliza's frantic flailing transformed into a swift, intentional assault. A fierce headbutt launched forth, a bold gambit to shatter her captor's grip. Her broomstick became a weapon, an extension of her resolve. Muscles tensed as she thrust her arm forward, elbow aiming for the creature's core. The impact reverberated through her, a painful reminder of the fight she was in.
Again and again, she struck, each blow fueled by her unyielding determination. But her adversary was stubborn, an unbreakable force. Her jabs met resistance, the grip only tightening. It felt like she was fighting a losing battle, despair clawing at her.
Then, a glimmer of thought emerged from the turmoil – a path to turn the tide.
Eliza's fingers shot out, locking around the fingers that had imprisoned her. In one fluid motion, she dropped low, collapsing to the ground. The unexpected maneuver threw off her attacker's balance, sending them crashing downward.
Eliza's lithe flexibility came into play, like a dancer executing a well-practiced routine. She wriggled out of the hold with a nimbleness that surprised even herself. Rising swiftly, she put distance between her and the enigmatic foe, her eyes never leaving their form.
Her broomstick, her weapon and ally, underwent its transformation with a press of a button. It elongated, matching the elongation of her own newfound strength. As the creature regained its footing, bathed in the eerie glow of the streetlights, its scales glinted in mesmerizing hues of green and black. The patterns seemed otherworldly, wrapping around its body like armor, a testament to its mystic nature.
Eliza's heart raced, yet her focus held steady. The scales were a symbol of its duality, the extraordinary hiding beneath the ordinary façade. It was a mystery wrapped in tattered human semblance, as if magic had interwoven with reality in the most unexpected way.
Yellow-green eyes fixated on her, the mystic's gaze bore into Eliza with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. Black, diamond-shaped pupils held her captive, while a long, pink tongue slithered out from between sharp teeth, tasting the air. The creature's movements were sinuous, its head weaving like a snake's, a fusion of human and serpent.
Step by cautious step, the shifter advanced, a dance of danger unfolding. Its neck tilted as it drew near, fixated on Eliza. She stood rooted beneath a pool of flickering light, her breath a frenetic rhythm in her chest. The creature halted, its lips parting to reveal glistening fangs, and its tongue emerged once more. Venom dripped from its fangs in long, thin strands, hissing as it made contact with the gravel, leaving a trail of sizzling destruction.
Eliza's resolve solidified in the face of the imminent threat. Her gaze darted to Dawn, still on the ground, then returned to the mystic. Teeth bared, it hissed, challenging her. Her broomstick became an extension of her determination, her body shifting into a defensive stance.
In response, the creature interpreted her posture as defiance, a gauntlet thrown down. It lunged, a blur of motion, driven by aggression. Eliza inhaled, her mother's teachings flickering to the forefront of her mind, a lifeline of knowledge.
Then, she faltered.
The mystic's claws sliced through the air, a deadly trajectory that Eliza sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the attack. The force imprinted its mark on the concrete, a testament to the near-miss. In the blink of an eye, she whirled around, her broomstick becoming her weapon once more. Its impact against the creature's back revealed a vulnerability in the scales she'd once encountered.
Confusion knitted with shock as her attack seemed effective now, unlike before when her elbow had met unyielding resistance. The mystic's screech filled the air, its pain echoing into the night. But Eliza's triumph was short-lived.
Swift as lightning, the creature shifted its focus, sensing an opportunity behind. Its arm swung with brute force, sending Eliza crashing to the ground. The clatter of her weapon resonated beside her, a stark reminder of the fierce battle at hand.
The mystic pivoted, its movements fluid, and charged in her direction. Gasping, Eliza rolled away, narrowly avoiding the next swipe. Every heartbeat was a drumroll of tension as she danced on the edge of danger, her resilience pitted against the mystic's relentless assault.
Eliza's hand found the broomstick, her fingers curling around it with determination. In a swift, fluid motion, she swung her slender broomstick, aiming right beneath the creature's scaled chin. The shifter reeled, a dazed look crossing its features as it staggered back. There was no time to hesitate – Eliza's instincts took over.
Her legs moved as if propelled by their own will, carrying her toward the mystic. The world around her seemed to shift into slow motion, each heartbeat echoing in her ears.
Turning in a graceful arc, Eliza struck the creature once more with her weapon. The broomstick's lines lit up, a vibrant glow that resonated with the energy coursing through her from its grip. The impact propelled the mystic through the air, sending it hurtling across the street.
"Yes, keep it up," Eliza's inner voice cheered her on, steeling her resolve.
With a clang, the creature crashed onto a car, setting off its alarm in a cacophonous symphony of sound.
Her attention snapped back to Dawn, standing a testament to her resilience. A pang of guilt clenched at Eliza's chest, threatening to unleash tears. She should have protected her friend from this ordeal. Her thoughts were interrupted abruptly as a vice-like grip closed around her waist, sending her crashing onto her back.
Groaning, Eliza's eyes fluttered open, finding herself pinned beneath the mystic. A startling realization dawned as she gazed up at him, her breath catching. Familiar features stared back, and the puzzle pieces fell into place. She remembered him – the guy who'd been making out with Stacy in the parking lot.
Her mind raced, memories replaying like scenes from a movie. His smirking face, Stacy's reckless laughter against the car seat – it all clicked into a chilling revelation. The half-human, half-serpent creature hissing inches from her face was no stranger.
Eliza's heart pounded, the truth hitting her like a freight train. This mystic, this menace, was none other than David Small – Stacy's missing boyfriend.