Lavamarble

7. HANDLE IT

My vision was started to return, and the fuzziness around the boots coming towards me sharpened, as did the glint of light off the sword swinging beside them.

I dared to look up, away from the sword. The rest of the outfit was similar to the boots, leather and buckles. Black pants that sagged a little off the legs and a black jacket with a sheen material. The dark V-neck shirt was the only normal-looking piece of clothing. I was impressed I even noted that away from the sword, or the face the strange clothes belonged to.

I couldn't decide if the man was Asian or not, on account of his white hair and otherworldly features, yet his complexion was pale-olive and his eyes almond-shaped. I'd never seen a man so equally beautiful and strange looking. What's more, his eyes were a piercing blue, silvery to match the great sword he carried. And they were pissed.

"I asked you," a deep voice grumbled from the young-looking man. "Who's there?"

The lump in my throat begged me not to use my voice box, my eyes must have looked like orbs with how wide I was holding them. This guy looked like a video game character, so I reckoned he could kill me as easily as a video game character would. Was he some sort of cosplayer? Even if he was, that was a very real-looking sword.

That sword was now pointed at my throat. For a moment, I wondered if I was still in the Westwood. How much had I drunk? How far had I walked?

"Is that real," I said, barely a whisper.

"What was that?!" demanded the stranger. "Speak up!"

Shamefully, I let a tear escape my eyes. Had I been thinking straight, I imagined I would have been braver. This had to just be some weirdo playing dress-up. But I didn't know how far the crazy went in him, and the reality was that I was a lone teenager in a dark wood. The thought in itself sobered me.

"Heather," I cleared my throat. "My name is Heather."

The man's eyes widened and the grip on his sword visibly weakened. I took this opportunity to try and get my footing, he didn't raise the weapon again. My thought started to form properly. Yes, this man was definitely crazy. But he was just a man in edgy clothes and probably contact lenses. He wasn't a real threat.

"Get away!" I cried, taking a step back. "I'm not alone here, the police will come if you try anything."

I wasn't sure how well my bluff would hold up. If I reached for my phone, I would probably startle him or look like I had a weapon, I would look like I had a weapon. I couldn't afford to provoke the weirdo who had a weapon.

But the man was still staring at me dumbfounded. I barely heard his next words.

"You're Heather Walker, aren't you?"

I took a sharp breath. Great, the weirdo knew my name. This just got better.

"How the hell do you know my name?" It was my turn to make demands.

It didn't seem to work, the man took a step towards me, causing me to take a step back in turn.

"Do you know how long I've been looking for you? And here you are."

I wanted to laugh, I was only twenty minutes from home; if this man had been watching and looking for me, he didn't have to look hard. And I was not about to tell him that. Not while he looked so unusually elated and was still coming towards me.

"Answer the question!" I dared to raise my voice.

"Heather, please, let me explain-"