Charred: Chapter 4

Alice and Akirinade stepped out into the light. Shirou's home was just close enough to the edge of town that they could see an enormous wall in the distance. Tall and built from metal, plywood, and cracked concrete, the wall went on for miles, splitting the city in two.

“I hate that thing.” Alice said softly as she stared at it for a moment.

“At least it keeps the riff-raff out.” Akinrinade chuckled to himself, adjusting the large bag on his shoulder.

“And I don't understand why you can't be normal and carry a

sword, instead of that thing.” Alice said looking pointedly at the large bag.

Akinrinade smiled, but didn't reply.

They continued to walk in silence for a few moments. Alice kept her eyes off the wall as she considered Shirou’s words. A sword made with wolfsbane. She would have understood that if anyone other than a werewolf, let alone the Alpha, had gotten that sword. There were those who saw werewolves as monsters after all, rather than the guardians of nature they’d striven to be.

But a werewolf trying to kill werewolves? What was Edward thinking? 

Akinrinade stopped walking. Alice stopped and turned to look at him. “What?”

He put a finger to his lips as if to silence her. He motioned with his eyes to all the empty store fronts.

Alice didn't understand at first, but then she realized all the stores were empty and no one was walking the streets. She berated herself briefly over the mistake, having been too focused on the other issue of Edward’s sword to notice.

They stood in silence, before Alice heard it too. The shuffle of footsteps, the smell of sweat, someone unsheathing a sword.

In a flash of movement, the pair disappeared. Moments later four men of various species came around the corner. They were filthy, and smelled like the disgusting alcohol desperate drinker would make in back alleys. The four them stopped in shock when they saw no one there to greet them.

“Where'd they go?” The biggest of the foursome asked.

The attack came from above. Alice dropped from the building she'd taken position on, landing on one of the men, a bald one carrying a large broadsword, with bone-crushing force. As she landed on him, she noted the excellent quality of his weapon, which was reflected in his three friends.

“A bit strange, weapons like these in the hands of people in

your situations.” She said as she rose to meet the horrified men before her, ignoring the groaning man beneath her. “Who gave them to you?”

“Die bitch!” The smallest man cried in response, swinging a crossbow up and letting lose. The bolt flew towards her heart.

Alice's eyes narrowed briefly. “Rude.” Then she swung her hand out and chopped the arrow in half before it could come close.

She lifted her hand up to watch the small bruise that appeared from slapping a mid-flight arrow slowly disappear as her advanced healing kicked in. As she spoke, the three men continued to give her terrified stares.

“Now gentlemen. I would like to believe you were simply desperate. But the fact that you are carrying weapons far too high-quality for you, as well as the disappearance of any witnesses, suggests something more than a simple mugging.” 

Her eyes snapped up to reveal dark gold irises. “Who sent you?”

The sight of those eyes, the eyes of a predator from the ancient world, unmanned the group.

“Run!” One screamed, his voice cracking.

The thugs turned. Akinrinade stood there, as casual as could be. In his hands was a mace. The handle was nearly as long as he was tall, made of dark oak. The head was enormous, a simple block of metal about as large as a cinder-block that rested on the ground. He rested his arms on the tip of the handle, a wide grin on his face.

“Come now. Don't tell me you want to leave?” The young Nigerian man said as his smile widened.

One man was brave enough to try and slip by. With speed that should have been impossible, Akinrinade swung the mace up and around, the enormous metal head whistling through the air like a comet before slamming into the right kneecap of the man who'd tried to run.

There was a sickening wet crack as the man’s kneecap turned to something with the consistency of dough. He screamed piercingly, falling to the ground in quivering pain.

“In retrospect, that might have been excessive.” The Nigerian said with a sigh as he stared down at the screaming man. “Oh well. Hindsight. Anyone else feel like running?”

The other men didn't oblige. Alice stepped forward, getting their attention. “Now, who sent you?”

The largest man, who had pale green skin and misshaped muscles, shook his head. 

“It was some woman, wearing a cloak. She just gave us money and weapons, told us we'd get more if we killed some girl and guy here. That's all we know!”

Alice stared at them a moment longer, considering what he'd said. Then she sighed. “Take your friends and go.”

“Wait, what?” Akinrinade gave her a startled look.

“We won't track down whoever hired them by just talking to them, and we need to go.” She explained. Alice's eyes narrowed however. “And if they try and kill anyone, ever again? We take them apart.”

There was a level of truth in that voice. A dangerous amount of promise.

The men ran, two of them leaning down to pick up the one whose leg had shattered. 

As they did, Akinrinade let out a disappointed sigh.

“Oh come on, we couldn't maim at least one of them?”

Alice shrugged, turning away. “We could have, but we won't.”

“You never let me have any fun.” Akinrinade said, pouting like a small child.

Alice chuckled. “That's the second time today someone said that to me.”

“Oh? And who was this wise person?”

Alice smiled. “Edward.”

The look of disgust on Akinrinade's face was like that of a young boy who'd realized he now had cooties.