Just a question: Is Kylie named after someone you know, or did you just decide to name her Kylie for no reason?
As a matter of fact, yes.
And [shadow=red,left,300][glow=red,2,300]
NOW[/glow][/shadow]... It's [shadow=red,left,300][glow=red,2,300]
TIME[/glow][/shadow]...
For Part B of Chapter Seven. Enjoy!
Dan pushed his way through a panicked throng of aristocrats, lawyers, and people who lied their way in, which was rather easy, given his physical strength. “What’s going on here?” he asked.
“Somebody call the security!” someone screamed.
Dan immediately reached out and grabbed the nearest person, a young boy who looked like he wasn’t even old enough to shave. “Kid,” Dan asked the frightened child, “What’s going on in there?”
The kid tried to calm down. “M-Mister, t-there, there were bad guys with guns, ‘n they wanted someone!”
“Someone?” Dan echoed. “Do you know who?”
The kid was losing it. Dan loosened his grip in order for him to relax. “S-Someone named ‘Nookie’ or some’n.”
Dan frowned and lowered his head. He let the kid go, then ran in the direction of the dining car, cursing under his breath. It looked like the law had acted more swiftly than Dan had anticipated; either that or bounty hunters.
But no matter how he sliced it, John’s days were numbered.
* * * * * *
John remained still like a gargoyle on the side of a cathedral, glaring at his opponent. He was still shivering uncontrollably from that last blow, his ears trembling. Trying to keep balanced and remain alert was becoming more difficult.
It was quite obvious that the Tanuki anatomy was not built to withstand very much.
“Ya like that?” Youkai sneered as he held his weapon lazily over his shoulder. “It’s my own design. The metal bar oscillates at such a speed and power that anything it touches is affected seismically.”
John wasn’t too fancy with big, scientific words, but he understood one thing quite clearly: the weapon was very dangerous. As a matter of fact, it would seem that the weapon was more dangerous than its bearer…
The Tanuki suddenly had a plan. The first step would require getting rid of that weapon somehow. Getting too close was out of the question, as Youkai was apparently talented with defensive arts.
Youkai continued. “In addition, the friction created heats up the bar so that it burns as it smashes.” It was true: there was indeed a burning sensation on John’s belly, and a burn mark to accompany it.
Youkai lifted his weapon and held it to the sky the way a knight would proclaim victory over a fallen dragon. His eyes gazed at it with disturbing admiration. “It’s a club, a bomb, and a sword all at once. It’s…”
Youkai’s eyes returned to John. “…The perfect weapon.”
The clownish threat took an ominous step forward, lowering the weapon to attack level. “It’s a shame I can’t use it to end your life.”
John posed another question. “Why did you murder all those people?”
Youkai paused for a second. After some silence, he responded quietly: “Because I was paid to.”
Great. A psychopath who sells death in order to live. That was as backwards as it gets.
Suddenly, Youkai was over John, ready to plunge the rod down onto him. John immediately jumped off and to the left, avoiding the oncoming explosion. He quickly twirled around and landed his elbow across Youkai’s pelvic area. John continued the attack with a sweeping kick across Youkai’s shins, tripping him.
However, just as John was about to grab and throw him, Youkai swung his rod in John’s direction. John almost didn’t make it away in time. Youkai regained his balance mid-fall (Which was impossible for most people) and used his free left hand to “stand” on the floor as he swung his much-longer-than-John’s-legs-will-ever-be-in-a-million-years leg at the diminutive Tanuki.
The kick connected, throwing John against some chairs that broke from the impact. As he tried to remain alert, John noticed something peculiar about these chairs…
Youkai ran at John, ready to bat him across the side. John swiftly charged upward and blasted by Youkai, hitting him slightly in the thigh.
Youkai’s evil eye followed John to the other side of the dining car, where John was kneeling, clutching his bleeding hand. Wait a minute, Youkai thought to himself. Since when did I hit his hand? Did he hurt it on those chairs?
John smirked evilly. He snickered in such a way that left Youkai grasping to know what exactly was going on. “Haven’t you figured it out yet?” John laughed.
Suddenly, Youkai fell down on one knee, feeling a searing pain on his thigh where John had hit him. He clutched as he fell, and felt something other than his own blood: nails. About three of them had been jabbed through his skin.
“N…Nails?!” Youkai gasped in surprise.
John stood up and folded his arms behind his head. Now it was HIS turn to look cool and threaten the enemy. “Those chairs were held together using nails. I thought it was unusual, since pegs are usually chosen to bolt a chair together. Safety protocols and all that. Those chairs must have been built at home.”
Suddenly, Youkai’s entire right leg began to not only hurt, but cramp as well. In this condition, he was unable to move. As it was, Youkai was a sitting duck.
“You…!” Youkai stammered. This was the first time he’d actually been beaten (getting caught by the cops didn’t count; at least to Youkai).
Beaten? Did that word really cross his mind? So that runt laid a pretty good hit on him. Big deal. Youkai still had his weapon, so he still had a chance even IF his mobility was currently limited.
“When fighting other people,” John said as he moved closer to Youkai, “I usually make it a point not to use sharp instruments. But, this time…” John then drew his signature giant razor leaf. “I’ll make an exception.”
He was still a bit off balance, but John could still run. He shot across the ground and swung his razor as Youkai attempted a fast blow with his weapon.
Suddenly, there was silence.
After what seemed like an eternity, John looked at his leaf weapon. There was a smoking hole through the side of it, most likely where Youkai’s rod had hit. There was also blood on it.
Behind him, John heard the sound of Youkai falling over.
He turned to see that, indeed, Youkai was slumped right over, in a heap. His infamous tool of violence rolled from his hand. John edged closer to him to make sure he was dead.
Suddenly, like something out of a horror movie, Youkai sprang upwards and knocked John over, causing John to drop his weapon. Youkai’s pale hands gripped John’s throat tighter than a vice. He struggled to breath.
“Thought you had me, huh?” Youkai sneered. “I just leaned to the side at the right time, deflecting your swing with my weapon. I even threw some of my own blood to make it look like you cut me.”
John began to feel his air, his life, escape him. Youkai knew the President required John alive, however. Now what could he do to knock this sucker out? Oh, hey, that nearby chair leg that one of those punks from earlier had used looked like a good option (And the only one, since Youkai had dropped his weapon).
After grabbing the leg with one hand, Youkai raised it into the air. Maybe it was due to the lack of oxygen, but John swore that it looked more like an axe than a chair leg.
And then, like a bolt of lightning, a gunshot split the air. After a second or two, John blinked, regaining his vision.
He saw a red hole through Youkai’s head, with blood streaming down his face. Youkai’s dead body fell backward from the force of the bullet that had found his gray matter comfortable enough to live in.
Ah, the police arrived! Or had they?
John turned around to look up at his savior. He was a giant, I tell you: roughly eight feet tall, with a long tattered cloak about him. His head was a dome made of metal and glass, his eerily glowing eyes peering from behind the helm. His limbs looked mechanical, with wires and circuitry clearly visible. A small, odd halo hovered just above his head. He was apparently a robot angel of some sort.
John began to stand up, desiring to thank this bizarre image of angelic machinery for saving his life. However, before he could say anything beyond a breath intake, the robot pointed a glock at him. Robot, yes; angel, no.
“FREEZE.”
Its voice was cold and raspy, sounding a bit like two pieces of metal sliding against each other. John instantly froze.
“DO NOT MOVE. YOU ARE UNDER ARREST BY ORDER OF THE PRESIDENT.”
