Fifteen Coins [Accidental Video, what else?]

[u_n_asplode]

[The communicator clatters to the ground, and the camera activates. It is lying face up on the sidewalk, a wrecked apartment building to the left with all its windows blown out--and a terrifying loud roar. An incongruous umbrella is discarded in the corner, and Flandre is nowhere to be seen. Claws and a rust-colored hide thunder past as a

Comments

[baka_jyanai]

-Cirno is completely frozen with fear watching the scene. She can only shake and stare, unable to avert her eyes. She wanted desperately to look away, but...-

[comment log]

[whiteduplicity]

[And he was bolting as fast as he could, the cold air stinging his lungs as he gasped for breath and continued on. He didn't even want to look back - never before had he seen a monster like this in this place, let alone being so close to approaching death here as he felt he was now. Where was that girl, Cirno? Was she okay? The monster was after him now--

Where was Miss Flandre?

But it was massive, and had appeared so suddenly behind him. He could hear the thundering steps behind, the bestial roar over the hammer of his heart, and twice he almost tripped over strewn rocks and debris running so fast and seemingly without destination. The monster was faster than him, there was no time left, and he had to get to that building and just surviveAnd building. Not so far away anymore. Maybe it hadn't been so far away in the first place. Probably. But he's close, the door is already ajar and decayed looking and would the building even hold against this creature? But he's almost there, and the door-frame's now just overhead, but he more than

[comment log]

[u_n_asplode]

[The youma snarled through pointed teeth--it saw the building and the doorframe that was too small to fit it--and this human was aggravatingly swift. But, it came into range quickly enough--and drew back one of its claws, pinching its fingers flat into a bladelike shape of the hand--quite as if it was attempting a jab. The claws swept forwards--and spread wider at the last minute, to maximize the striking surface in exchange for speed.

Anywhere--anywhere, on Ryou's side or shoulder or back or anything--it had to stop him. Catch him before he got away--]

[comment log]

[whiteduplicity]

[It was right behind him. And next thing he knew, there was a terrible pain: something, the monster, its claws were ripping deep through fabric and flesh - over the back of his left shoulder; an anguished cry of pain. His vision blurred momentarily through it, the entire momentum of the strike turning him, but it was all very fast. Right arm still coherent, he grabs at the door's rusted handle and with the last remaining force of the ordeal --

SLAM. The door closed. He stumbles forward over the fallen indoor pieces of rotting wood, and is barely able to to just get further away, even if it was futile..]

[comment log]

[u_n_asplode]

[There was blood on its claws, now, its target was beginning to spin out, and fall and--

THUD.

The youma crashed, face first, into the door.

It was not in the least bit happy about this.

It staggered back a few steps, stunned--blood dripped off of its stained claw--and then the youma's eyes refocused. It snarled--and charged the door quite deliberately this time. Its head was lowered to bring the brunt of its mass against it. The decaying wood splintered, the old brick began to groan. All the while, the youma snarled, terribly.

It backed up for a second charge. And this one would break through.]

[comment log]

[whiteduplicity]

[He was on the ground now, unable to keep his balance any longer, with his gaze fixated in horror on the door only a few meters away. Splintering, clouds of dust and dirt polluting the already difficult to breath air. Trying to catch his breath just didn't seem like it was going to happen. His hand subconsciously clutched the potentially mortal wound, knuckles having turned white and staining his hand with blood, his clothes - so much blood...

He shudders, trying to scoot back, kicking objects and things to propel him back and scrabbling at the dirt, with only limited success. But, maybe.. Would he survive this? If the door was to go... perhaps then follow suit, with everything in its path being destroyed...]

[comment log]

[u_n_asplode]

[Living flesh met decaying brick again--and the already damaged material began to fail.

...and then it broke. The door splintered away first, the weakest part of the equation--but the walls and doorframe foiled the youma's shoulders awhile longer. Choking clouds of dust clouded its vision and sent the beast to wheezing, slowing its progress.

But it was hungry, and the smell of blood was close. It squeezed its way into the door, and scraped its head on the ceiling--too low. It spawned another cloud of dust, further soiling its vision. The youma roared, and began to lash out at everything around it--its target might not have been that close, but hunger and temporary blindness had degraded it to simple, childish defensive responses.]

[comment log]

[whiteduplicity]

[So many things going on at once. His breathing was become more shallow and labored, he was so dizzy... And he knew it was to be a miracle if he survived this. Despite this and being barely coherent, his mind was still working enough for basic survival instincts. There were plenty of places to hide in here. It was near the east end of the building, he was some ways away. He attempted to make as little noise as he could.

He continued to crawl back, and scooted behind the closest thing to a "hiding place" he could find: behind a large old crate; now leaning his back against the wall. The noise the creature was causing was deafening. His right hand still gripped his shoulder, though the grip was slowly loosening, the pain still searing through his entire arm and down his back.]

[comment log]

[u_n_asplode]

[After a moment, the thrashing ceased--and it could see again. It could hear, too--and its roaring stopped, suddenly.

The youma was listening to something quite intently, its head tilted to the side and its body frozen in place.

Footsteps.

Its ruse was already in tatters--and it had no patience for this. It was hungry, it needed food--not some game of chase. It took off running in a straight line, as if to take off--and its form began to shrink.

Sprouted wings that bristled with seven-colored knives.

The Flandre-that-was-Not took to the air at speed, and folded her wings just enough to fit through a window. The remnants of old, unbroken glass shattered, and the youma fled.]

[comment log]

[whiteduplicity]

[His breath hitched in his throat. Silence. Lastly, the shattering of glass. And then the monster was... leaving? If he'd been more lucid, it'd be more easily to discern what was going on... Though, it was almost lucky he was not.

He waited in silence a few more moments, alone with the sound of his ragged breathing, just to make sure he really was alone. It wasn't difficult. The minutes crawled on, heart still hammering away in his chest, the blood continued to drip, the nothingness of it all continued...

Finally, he loosened his grip on his shoulder. Getting dizzier. He didn't even want to look down and see what shape he was in. Then, shakily, he reached down for his communicator...]