Fan Fiction ❯ SHADE ❯ Chapter 2

Carefully she placed the grey tarp over her bike, each soft sweep of her hand across the fabric a loving caress for the powerful machine underneath. Satisfied that the bike was both protected and concealed she left the small garage-like room. The faded white paint was pealing down off the walls of the hallways and old offices leaving curling grey and yellow flakes on the floor and abandoned furniture. They crunched beneath her heavy boots as she made her way to the staircase, and the second floor main office.

 

The hallways leading from the garage to the staircase might have once been cheery. Fresh white paint, old black and white photographs hanging on the walls, fellow employees giving curt nods and friendly greetings as you walked past. Sometimes she could envision it, heading up to her office, the sound of shuffling papers and ringing phones, voices all around her.

 

Someone sat back in their chair, the bolts creaking as it bent to accommodate the added pressure. Someone opened a file cabinet, and then closed it loudly. The sounds of keys clicking as someone typed hazardly away at a keyboard and a loud groan as the editor walked by, knowing full well that there would by plenty of typos to keep them busy that night.

 

A deep croaking squawk shot into her mind and her eyes flew open, bringing her back into the faded hallways she roamed. Away from the glory days of the fine building she now occupied.

 

Before her loomed the staircase, the bars rusty, the lush carpet that had once covered the steps, muffling the footsteps of those ascending or descending, now hung in dusty tatters, clinging to the auburn nails that kept them in place. The patters so intricately woven into the fabric nothing more than a faded shadow against the decaying cotton background.

 

The rusted metal creaked and groaned beneath her weight as she climbed, each step a threat shouted up to her, instilling the fear of falling through and into the supply closet below, though she knew the stairs were sound, the metal thick, the bolts strong. It would hold her weight. Still, the stairs threats would not go unhindered and she climbed lightly and hastily, so as not to anger them with her continued presence.

 

At the top of the stairs, sitting on a rusted bar, was her companion Shade. The large raven squawked a greeting before rising in a flutter of dark feathers and large wings to sink her sharp talons into the tender flesh of her shoulder. Shuffling around to find the most comfortable position and leaning against her head, warming one of her cold pink ears with her soft feathers.

 

Smiling softly she reached up and ran her fingers along the left side of the bird, pressing her face closer to the warm body before continuing up the complaining steps to the second floor.

 

The hallways of the second floor were as decrepit as the first, pealing paint, rotting carpet, dusty furniture. But there were fewer offices; and they were larger, less open, each door with its own window and shadows of the letters of names long gone.

 

Here, at the end of the corridor, stood the tall double doors that first caught her eye when she began exploring ten years past. The doors that called to her, welcomed her into the chamber they had vigilantly guarded for decades. Their splintering wood and rusty handles comforting in her grip, the creak of the hinges as they swung open to her a soft greeting, welcome back, they whispered.

 

Here she sat back in her large dusty chair. Here she rested her feet, ankles crossed, atop her large faded desk. Here she gazed at the large bookshelves lined with books taken from the classrooms she visited, the offices she waited silently in, the houses she snuck into…Here she could stare lovingly at the collection of dangerous blades that decorated the two walls on either side of her.

 

Sighing she sat back, snuggling into the soft dustily fabric of the chair, the padding still fluffy beneath her. Shade let out a small complaint, hopping down from her shoulder to her lap, shifting from foot to foot anxiously before settling down and resting.

 

Chuckling she found her own place in the cushions and felt herself slipping into sleep, feeling the unfamiliar weight of the money in her pocket. She was low of victuals… Tomorrow night she would have to get some more supplies from the market.

 

She was vaguely aware of the rising sun, the golden light of down filtering through the splintering boards covering the large window behind her.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

She loved the city during dusk, the streetlights glowing, the cars rushing by, the people migrating in groups from one shop to the next, each one with their own agenda, unconsciously grouping together. Curfew was hours away and everyone wanted to get their fill of the night before being herded back into their homes until just after dawn, when they would head to work or school.

 

It was the time when people made their mistakes, when all their dirty little secrets came out. When they indulged their urges and labeled themselves her next target.

 

Entering a shop with a group of teens she grabbed a basket and began plucking items off the shelves. Canned goods, dried grains, hard green bananas which were sure to last a week or two, and several gallons of water.

 

Stepping up to the counter she smiled sweetly at the sales clerk, a pimply teen with long blonde hair and cute blue eyes that shone with inner humor. As if she knew some funny joke and longed to tell someone, but wouldn't. It was her secret.

 

She rang in the items, the small upturn of her lips never fading. She glanced every now and then at the small television behind the counter, some cartoon playing.

 

“You fond of anime?' She asked, the girl blushed slightly but didn't appear embarrassed.

 

“Ever since I was little. They just seamed to much more interesting than American cartoons.”

 

She nodded and the both paused a moment as a large demon was cut down by a sword wielding miko, small rivulets of blood squirting out of the wounds and staining her pale face, her ebony hair flowing around her in waves as she landed not even glancing back at the horrendous creature she had slain.

 

Laughing softly the girl finished bagging the items and handed them all over to her. “I sure wish I could do that, walking around the city taking down the bad guys and walking away clean. Never getting caught or being questioned for their murder. That's why I love it so much, especially her. She's a royal bitch but she's cool, and knows which end of the sword she's holding.” she looked back over at her. “Do you need any help with those? I'm getting of in five minutes and those waters are pretty heavy. How far are you heading?”

 

“Just out to the parking lot, I've got a car.” she said.

 

“Liar, you came in with those girls. Don't think I don't see you here other times too. You have a really cool Ninja, but you don't ride it often do you? At least, I hardly ever see you.”

 

“I just don't think it necessary to ride my bike when I don't have very long to walk.” She really shouldn't have started talking with the girl.

 

“Well, either way I'm off now.” she said while taking of her apron and name tag and setting it up on the shelf behind the counter by a few bottles of Jack Daniels. “Jason's here now and he'll take over.” She waved to a tall boy with brown hair, tossing her apron at him. He caught it easily and tied it around him. “Besides, if you don't let me help you I'm just going to stalk you.” She said with a big smile.

 

The girl picked up two of the bags and hopped over the counter. She wondered briefly where the manager was before tossing the thought aside. She could at least let the girl walk her to some random house; there were several that were empty this time of night.

 

“Fine you can help.” She let a small smile claim her lips, a small show of appreciation. She could have carried all the bags with little trouble, but at least now she would get it done faster and go on the hunt.

 

“So what's your name?” The girl asked.

 

“What's yours?” She replied.

 

“I'm Oni.” She said with a smile. “So what's yours?”

 

“What does it mean…Oni?”

 

“I think it means demon…or ogre…in Japanese…but in Native American it means born on holy ground! I think… quite ironic isn't it?”

 

“What native tribe? I thought they spoke different languages.”

 

“Hey!” The teen laughed, slipping in front of her. “You're avoiding my questions. What's your name?”

 

“I don't have one.” She replied. The girl would obviously see through any lie.

 

“Oh. Well, what do you call yourself?”

 

“Me.”

 

“I mean…what do your friends call you?”

 

“I only have one friend and she usually squawks at me.”

 

“You mean you don't have any friends?” She said, a bit sad.

 

“I can't very well introduce myself if I don't have a name right?'

 

“Well, do you want to be called something?”

 

She didn't think about it. “No.”

 

“Well what can I call you?”

 

“I'm me; I don't know why you have to call me anything.”

 

“How will I get your attention?”

 

“You could say `Hi' or `Hey'.” Humans were frustrating creatures.

 

“Oh…okay.” Oni paused and looked around. “Um…where are we?”

 

She cursed inwardly; in their conversation she had unconsciously led the girl to the back anyway to the old building. So much for ditching her at a random house.”

 

“In a heap a trouble.” A rich voice spoke from behind them.

 

The both simultaneously turned around and dropped their grocery bags. Leaning up against the dumpster it the darker shadows of the alley was a tall dark man, in his hand he held a SIG Sauer, shining in the dim glow of the sliver of moon that was left in the sky.

 

Stepping back she placed a protective arm in front of Oni, gently directing the teen behind her.

 

“What do you want?” She demanded.

 

“Two pretty chicks dead and cold by dawn.” he replied stepping forward. The man pointed the gun straight at them. The glimmer of light revealing a stupid cocky grin plastered on his face.

 

Oni couldn't repress a hysterical chuckle. “You're holding the gun wrong.” She said softly, nodding at the angle in which the man held the pistol. She shot the girl a glare. You'd think a schoolgirl would freak in a satiation like this. Oni whispered. “He's got no aim like that; he'll get more bullets in the side of the building than in us.”

 

“You stupid bitch, it doesn't matter, dead is dead.” the man said, a trickle of sweat running down his forehead, clutching the grip a little tighter in his clammy hands.

 

“Didn't any of those cartoons teach you not to agitate the man holding the gun?” She asked the teen. `Or at least not to help him improve his aim…' she thought

 

“Nope, the guys usually said something smartass before dropkicking the bastards.” She whispered back.

 

“This isn't some stupid cartoon you worthless bitch and I'm gonna blow your fucking brains out!”

 

“And this isn't some gangster flick you wannabe hoodlum, so hold the gun right or you wont get shit through my brains!” Oni shouted back.

 

“This coming from an anime fan …” She muttered, she really despised all human contact, they were such useless creatures.

 

“Hey I may like watching it but I don't go using it as reference to killing people.”

 

“Oh missy you are so dead!” He raised the gun eye level and pulled the trigger.

 

The sound of the shot was miniscule compared to the bustling city night and the thick concrete of the dark alleyways caught every vibration, but the scream that followed filled the still night air with its agony. Anyone within hearing distance stopped and looked around, but none could exactly pinpoint the location of the sound.