The Wyrd West: Eldrich Calgary
Two Hours. Two hours was how long it had taken for her enemies to catch up with the sword, time enough for her to explain to her high school sweetheart Rad that she was no longer going to be able to stay with him, ever again. She shuddered, the rain coating her skin, wishing that she wasn’t stuck in her slutty red dress. Two hours for the rain to set in to this down pour. Her Wazinabi swung at her sides as she ran though the night. Too open, too vulnerable, need to find a bottleneck, a wall, an escape. Two hours for her to get what she needed, emergency funds, food, and pack clothing. The rumble behind her grew louder. It was not thunder, that much she knew. Her thighs ached, as she grimaced and ran on down an alleyway. Better than nothing. Kneeling she felt the ground and probed, finding what she needed and shouted,
“Kabot!” while drawing her first Wazinabi, Spinning turtle, and a second later she felt an impact. Bullets? No not bullets, pure force, her clay armor took the brunt as she rolled away and drew her second enchanted Wazinabi, Kissing Snake, her voice rang out clear.
“Chidura!” And a jet of pressurized water cut into the darkness, and didn’t make a sound. She didn’t know what that meant, but she was willing to bet it was bad. She was right. A large lumbering form came forth, Jade had to clench her teeth to keep the vomit down. Before her stood a flesh golem at least three or four bodies smashed together and living as one and at the center… Two hours ago she thought her father was still alive. Rage, sorrow, and horror crept up within her, so she sent it back down into the ground.
“Xuang Shan!” Her voice pierced the night, and two columns of earth rose up and smashed the horrid thing just before it reached her. Then silence. She looked up at the full moon, and realized she was crying. Then the rumble returned a small figure stepped into the alleyway.
“Troublesome.” it said in a voice far to deep and gravelly for it’s size. and as it gestured her short swords were ripped from her hands.
“I believe,” said the figure now dripping with what looked like blood,
“That this is over. Give me the sword and I’ll kill you quickly.” He held out his hand.
This was it, two hours to die. the only weapon she had was Asi and the spirits only knew what it was truly capable of. Her mother always said it had changed her father after he received it. She knew of the prophecy, she knew her day would come… two hours.
“No,” She said looking the figure in what she presumed to be it’s face.
“This is just the beginning.” And the took the sword by it’s hilt for the first time. And the world seemed to stop, suddenly around her were twenty young men, one of them her father. They looked at her and all around spectral bodies lay on the ground. Misshapen things, beasts, horrors, men… they all lay at the feet of these twenty warriors. This was no longer an alleyway, this was a graveyard for the condemned, a slaughterhouse for for anything evil. Her father’s shade gestured to the heavens, and there in the sky hung two blood red moons.
“Swear!” Her ancestors bellowed as one. and she blinked. The words came from someplace new inside her, someplace old.
“I swear by these blood moons, I will fulfill the prophecy, or die!” And as the last word left her lips the spirits swirled and were drawn into her sword. She was screaming as the world came back and the thing on the other side of the alley froze. And then flung something she couldn’t quite see toward her. A memory flashed by a bearded man cutting the air. She cut through the air. The thing howled and flung a column of fire at her. A flash of memory, a stringy man swirling the flames into the blade. She did the same and the flames were no more. Now it was her turn. She gripped hard and charged forward her scream finally reaching a crescendo. Her clay armor fell away from her and a memory flashed, her father fiercely grinning moving the sword at impossible angles. As her scream ended her opponents began. An unearthly wail that shook her bones, as she sliced through it’s limbs as if the were nothing, her sword ended in the Thing’s head, and it slumped turning into slime. Ectoplasm. Not real. She sheathed her sword, and retrieved her weapons. Two hours, for her innocence to die. Two hours for baptism by battle. Two hours… A short time for a new beginning. As she walked back to her discarded things she looked up. Two blood moons hung in the sky. She shuddered, and looked down.