Playing with Fire

Playing with Fire- Chapter Eight

Sorry that I haven't been doing any writing, but with school starting up I can't stay up psat 11:30 without being dead in the morning. But it's now the weekend I have the opportunity to do some writing, finally!

And now, what I'm sure at least one person has been waiting for, Playing with Fire- Chapter Eight!!

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I turned slowly, ready to spring in any direction if need be. My hands raised instinctually into my ready position. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Hayden do the same, his pale blue eyes unexpectedly angry.

Blocking the entrance were two young men, neither of whom could have been much older than twenty. They wore tattered clothes that seemed to be made mostly of rags, covered in dirt and red stains that looked suspiciously like blood. My throat closed up with the memory of another fabric that had been discoloured by the same maroon liquid. I forced the panic down, focusing on the heavy-looking bats the men held in their hands.

"What is a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?" the taller one asked, giving me a smarmy smile. His grimy hair hung over his face and his light brown eyes leered at me. Instead of responding to his question, I drew out my swords and lifted them to their positions; right one raised in front of my body to block, left one at my side so I would have momentum if I needed to strike.

The uglier one laughed, smacking the bat against his open palm. "There's no need for that, darlin'. All we want is whatever you have in your pockets... and maybe some fun afterwards." His voice was scratchy, with a slight drawl I'd sometimes noticed from Mark. Hayden made a noise at the back of his throat and inched closer to me.

"I suggest you step aside," he said seriously, and I could tell he was frowning even through the fabric of his red leggings. Neither of the men did so.

"Now, why would we do that?" the tall one mocked, taking a step closer to us and raising his bat. "You two obviously have some kind of money. Where else would you get that shiny head-scarf or those swords?"

"Please just leave us alone," I ordered, voice steady and strong as I tightened my grip on my swords. Whatever they had in mind for us, I could be sure it wouldn't be pleasant.

"Didja hear that, Hardy?" the ugly one cried, smirking at the tall man I assumed to be Hardy. "She said please. Well, I guess we gotta leave 'em alone now."

What do they want from us, Yín sè? Anything valuable that you may have. These are what we call muggers. Although, these two seem to want a little more than just trinkets. What in the world do you mean by that, Yín sè? Do you always need to speak in riddles? They want you, young one. To them, you are just another girl. Just another thing to be used and then tossed away like trash. I could hear the rage in her silvery voice, feel her anger seeping into me when I focused on the men and the looks they were giving me.

"C'mon, Clave," Hardy sneered. "Let's get us some." The two men advanced on us, determined looks on their grungy faces. I let myself relax, accepting the extra Diànyuán Yín sè was offering in preparation for the coming fight.

Clave came at me, brandishing his club menacingly. I blocked his first blow with my forearm, swinging my left sword to cut into the skin on his shoulder. Instead of attempting to kill him, as some might have done, I opted for trying to disarm him through pain.

He silenced his cry of pain with a grimace, again heaving his bat to slam into my side. I spun my left sword to stop the hit. The clumsy block benefitted him, as it left my dominant wrist tingling and sore. Again and again he brought the club down upon me. I never again let him get any type of advantage, using Yín sè's experience and my skill to guide me into making the right moves.