Split WiP Chapter 6: In Which the Fight Begins in Earnest
I thought Chapter 6 was going to hold this entire fight sequence. But, I don't think that's going to work out. Ah well. Outlines are made to be tweaked.
Shiro leapt clear of the shifting, crumbling earth, drawing his gun from the concealing drape of his cassock as he did so. He landed lightly, ready to jump again as his eyes swept the clearing.
It was as empty as it had been before. The only sounds were the shush of still moving earth drifting up from the pit. And, beneath it, a sharp, ominous clicking that matched the flash of dark carapace he’d glimpsed waiting at the bottom of the pit.
Something moved in the trees, branches swaying as though in a sudden wind.
Shiro swore.
“So, that's the catch,” he muttered to no one as a swarm of moths burst from the forest.
His free hand drew a holy water canister from the stash kept at the small of his back, and he let it fly.
Between the hail of gunfire he sent after it and the explosion of the pressurized canister, the moths thinned just enough for him to make out the lanky shape of Amaimon leaping out of the swarm.
Shiro greeted him with a point blank shot to the face. The blast only pushed the sullen-faced demon back a foot. But, it was enough.
“Well, someone doesn’t look happy today,” said Shiro as he danced away, increasing the distance between them.
The Earth King was as he remembered. Green hair styled in an absurd spike, long coat, pin-striped shirt, waistcoat, and the scowl of a being that took joy in little beyond violence.
“Shut up,” Amaimon returned, spitting Shiro’s bullet into his hand. He held the bullet up to one eye for a minute, ignoring the way the blessed silver casing drew a thin stream of smoke from his clawed fingers. “I don’t even want to fight you.” He flicked the bullet away with enough force to send it snapping through the nearest tree and possibly the next three. Then, he leveled a flat look at Shiro. “You’re no fun.”
“What?” Shiro feigned surprise as he swept his weapon over their heads to clear out a few more of the moths and their choking poison dust. “Hey, now, I’m all kinds of fun!” Hidden by his body, his left hand slipped to his cell phone.
“You’re another boring human.” Amaimon’s pout promised murder. “I wanted a real fight.” The pout deepened. “It’s not fair.”
His pre-prepared message sent, Shiro shifted his hand to find a second weapon.
“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, smiling a smile that was as vicious as any demon’s. “I’m sure I can give you a real fight.”
Shiro leapt clear of the shifting, crumbling earth, drawing his gun from the concealing drape of his cassock as he did so. He landed lightly, ready to jump again as his eyes swept the clearing.
It was as empty as it had been before. The only sounds were the shush of still moving earth drifting up from the pit. And, beneath it, a sharp, ominous clicking that matched the flash of dark carapace he’d glimpsed waiting at the bottom of the pit.
Something moved in the trees, branches swaying as though in a sudden wind.
Shiro swore.
“So, that's the catch,” he muttered to no one as a swarm of moths burst from the forest.
His free hand drew a holy water canister from the stash kept at the small of his back, and he let it fly.
Between the hail of gunfire he sent after it and the explosion of the pressurized canister, the moths thinned just enough for him to make out the lanky shape of Amaimon leaping out of the swarm.
Shiro greeted him with a point blank shot to the face. The blast only pushed the sullen-faced demon back a foot. But, it was enough.
“Well, someone doesn’t look happy today,” said Shiro as he danced away, increasing the distance between them.
The Earth King was as he remembered. Green hair styled in an absurd spike, long coat, pin-striped shirt, waistcoat, and the scowl of a being that took joy in little beyond violence.
“Shut up,” Amaimon returned, spitting Shiro’s bullet into his hand. He held the bullet up to one eye for a minute, ignoring the way the blessed silver casing drew a thin stream of smoke from his clawed fingers. “I don’t even want to fight you.” He flicked the bullet away with enough force to send it snapping through the nearest tree and possibly the next three. Then, he leveled a flat look at Shiro. “You’re no fun.”
“What?” Shiro feigned surprise as he swept his weapon over their heads to clear out a few more of the moths and their choking poison dust. “Hey, now, I’m all kinds of fun!” Hidden by his body, his left hand slipped to his cell phone.
“You’re another boring human.” Amaimon’s pout promised murder. “I wanted a real fight.” The pout deepened. “It’s not fair.”
His pre-prepared message sent, Shiro shifted his hand to find a second weapon.
“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, smiling a smile that was as vicious as any demon’s. “I’m sure I can give you a real fight.”