Sunderance: Chapter 14 - Kitsunetsuki Part 1 (Patreon)

    The display was nothing if not theatrical. He had to admit, the sense of danger - of lethality - in air tainted by the coppery stink of fresh blood was somewhat enhanced when twin embers appeared from the shadows. There was something tangible to the shadows, however. Something real watching him as impassive green eyes returned the gaze curiously. While he expected the image and the bodies would have caused most others to panic, the tingle that ran down his spine as he stood his ground was one of disquiet and tension. Preparation. Fear was a survival instinct, after all. He could already sense the way the world around him sharpened and focused as adrenaline surged through his blood.

    His nostrils flared and his nose gave a few curious twitches as he took a few slow steps away from the door leading back into the DMV. Even if this new arrival entered the building, he had no doubt that Flash had not been exaggerating about the difficulties anyone wishing to enter his domain would face. Still, he didn’t move towards the eyes. Just… walked along the wall to see if they would follow him. Were they dead? Lifeless? No. They tracked him even as he stopped. The glow. A trick of the light? In the dim light, he had no doubt that his own eyes were luminous, so that was not out of the question. Though the steady glow of the ghostly red didn’t remind him of any mammal he knew, though it also explained a few things.

    “In the very few stories about you,” he said, shattering a silence left by three dead predators as he came to a stop and tapped his baton against his thigh in an almost idle motion, “I find it funny that they never mention the eyes.”

    He didn’t even have time to think about how fast the motion was before the shadow itself moved like a living thing and swooped in on him. Reflex, years of intense training, and a touch of luck raised his paw in a snap to deflect something. Something solid to the touch, and moving with enough force to cause the bone in his forearm to ache even with what could have been called a perfect deflection. When he lashed out with a quick swipe of the baton, the shadow did not jump back or dodge. It simply seemed to shrink by a few inches, allowing the blow to harmless pass through the inky dark without finding solid purchase.

    He smelled scent mask.

One.

    Instantly on full guard, he brought his elbow back after missing with the baton, his eyes followed the shadow as what was clearly an arm blocked the blow. He instantly dropped the elbow, drawing his opponent towards him as he shoved forward with his upper body until they made chest-to-chest contact.

    He heard an almost imperceptible grunt.

Two.

    Another blow came from his right in a blur of black, blocked by a rise of his shoulder as he pressed forward to unbalance his opponent. The shuffle of two pairs of feet on the asphalt was halted when one raised, giving him half a second of forward momentum before the shadow attempted to sweep his leg.

    He felt a whisper of breath ruffle his cheek fur.

Three.

    He planted his feet, absorbing the blow only to find that the swift shadow had not been following his forward motion. Seeing his mistake too late, a sharp yank on his tie had him stumbling forward and into a quick, sharp pain sliced through his cheek.

    He saw a shimmer of light reflect from off a blade from within the shadow.

    Snapping away and taking a few steps back when the shadow didn’t follow, he rolled his neck slowly as he watched the dark thing in front of him. Fast. Incredibly fast. There was no need for him to raise his paw to his cheek as the scent of his own warm blood reached his nose even over the stink of dead wolf. It had been as close to a perfect strike as he could imagine and he doubted very much he would be breathing if whoever this was had intended to kill him. A lucky break for him, and a lesson in not underestimating the unknown again.

    “I don’t believe in ghosts, you know,” he said, green eyes sharpening as he ran the very short confrontation through his mind again. Reaching behind his back with his baton, he noticed a subtle shift in the shadow. A little… Tension forming for a fraction of a second before allowing his now empty paw to drop to his side again. A scent, breath, reaction to physical contact, and now tension in the face of a perceived threat. “I also expected you to be taller.”

    This time he moved first, closing the short distance between them as he dropped to all fours and pivoted quickly to lash out with his tail and his leg at the same moment. Both were easily avoided but the shadow was forced to drop back in a quick jump to do so.

One.

    This allowed him to carry the momentum of his spin around as he came up on the pads of his feet, his now free paw emerging from his jacket with this handgun swinging around with the motion. It was a terribly sloppy move, the sort one only saw in action films where the star power drove home half-ass fighting skills. The sort of thing that looked amazing visually, but was so blindly obvious that any fool could see it coming. The shadow was no fool and did exactly what Nick might have done in the same situation. Rather than dodge again, it moved into and past the barrel of the gun for what he had no doubt would be a far more vicious blow than the last little scratch on the cheek.

Two.

    Only, before that blow came, the shadow slammed full force into the baton that he had dropped from the sleeve of his jacket during the sweep. There was a brutal thump and crack as he drove the tip into the baton center mass into the shadow, followed by a satisfyingly loud whoosh as the air was driven out of very solid lungs.

Three.

    A blinding pain and light dazed him for a second when a foot connected with the underside of his muzzle, snapping it to the side and forcing him to roll away. Satisfaction was still his, however, watching the shadow stumble back a few steps unsteadily, clutching at the spot he had struck. Then the flickering began. Sort of like watching a television screen short out. The shadow cracked as various lines of static formed across the surface, flickered for a moment before wavering as if trying to decide what to do next.

    Then the figure within the shadows, who was almost visible now, reached up and slapped at the chest of his suit. Then she shadows flickered off for good, leaving the fox facing what might have been the very last thing he had expected.

    “I’ll be honest,” he said as he drew himself to his feet, sliding the gun back into its shoulder holster while watching the figure with cautious and curious eyes, “I did not expect Yurei to be a bunny.”

    The bunny - because that was clearly what stood in front of him now - was taller than any bunny he could remember seeing in his limited experience. Rather than the round, fluffy build of your average bunny, this one was lean. His body seemed to be made of edges rather than curves, but that was in part an illusion made real by the angular design of the fur tight suit he wore. Exceptionally long ears for a bunny, which made him wonder if this rabbit was from The Common Wealth at all, gave him an unusual and dangerous feel. That and the long blade he held in one paw, which Nick could easily connect to the mild sting that lingered on one cheek.

    “She calls me Jack.”