Tainted

Eve flounced down the street, obviously happy about something. Daniel had been watching her for almost three months, now, just waiting for the right moment to make his move. As he dashed between streetlamps, I zig-zagged my way past trash cans and empty boxes, trying to keep pace with him. He was faster than I was, no doubt, but stronger? I didn’t think so. I was much closer to Eve, now, which meant that he also was. At this proximity, I could clearly hear the peppy, upbeat melody pumping through her headphones. When Daniel crosses the road, I thought. Any second, now… I’ll be ready.

            The sound was just like that of thunder, only louder. Eve looked up, but, her vision not quite catching our silhouettes turned her attention back to her feet. I guessed she’d thought it was just the beginning of a thunderstorm. Daniel crashed in to my expectant shoulder and fell on the damp ground. It began to rain harder. Eve was gaining on us, and I knew I had to get out of there, but I was tired of giving this guy warnings. It was time he learned a lesson; the lesson that all actions have consequences, good or bad. This was one of the bad ones.

            Eve’s horrified gasp trickled through the air like the blood on Daniel’s face. She ran over to him – he was, at that point, lying on the floor in what I could only presume was agony – and saw the red liquid squirming its way down the side of his head. She whipped her glare up at me and snapped,

“Did you do this to him?” I swallowed hard and nodded. “Is this your idea of a sick joke? A game, maybe?” She pulled her headphones out of her phone and put it up to her ear. “Hello, operator? I need an ambulance as soon as possible! Can you put me through?” She waited a few moments before saying, “Hello?” A fuzzy voice from the other side – ambulance service, I guessed – spoke to her. “I’m at the North Junction down Sanding Lane. Yes, the one with Witford Street and Neapolitan Road leading from it. Someone’s been attacked.” I tuned my hearing in to see what was going on.

“Did you see the attacker?” The ambulance lady asked.

“Yes,” Eve replied. “He’s standing right here, in front of me.” I ignored the rest and, soon enough, Eve had hung up. Words could not describe the hatred directed at me through one glance from her. “They’ll be here soon, maybe you should get going before they arrest you, not that you don’t deserve it. Just thought I’d warn you. Good Karma and all that, you know?” I fought the urge to laugh.

“You believe in all that crap?” She gave me the ‘I’m-going-to-freaking-kill-you-next-time’ look and stalked off to kneel beside Daniel. I turned around and noticed the little alleyway that lead to Eve’s house – if you followed it for long enough. I pegged it down there, not as quickly as I could, because that would give too much away, but fairly speedily. I heard Eve’s shouts from behind me, but shortly after, the ambulance and police sirens rang out. Eve was telling them which direction I’d ran and pretty soon, I could hear heavy, charging footsteps coming toward my hiding place. Good job I’m safe here, I thought. But what if I’m not; I’m only in the shadows, it’d be easy to find someone who gave of a shimmering glow in the dark, literally. My Guardian flew out of my pocket and tried to get my attention.

“Shh, not now, Celèste.” I whispered.

“It’s important, Cato.” She whined. The footsteps were gaining when I finally gave in.

“Okay, what?” She opened her mouth to tell me, but the cops came past, carrying a piece of paper which I guessed contained a sketch of me. They stopped right in front of us, and my breath froze in my throat. Celèste whispered something and, as the flashlights traced the outline of our bodies, the men seemed to look straight through us. The shorter, rougher looking one snatched the piece of paper away from the taller man and grumbled,

“It’s not much to go on, she’s not the best artist in the world, you know.”

“What are you going to do with it, Marty?” The tall man asked. In reply, Marty got a lighter out of his pocket and burnt the paper to pieces.

“Tell her the wind took it,” He said when the tall man was about to speak.

“You can get fired for that!” Marty shrugged.

“Only if someone finds out, and you’re not exactly going to go telling them, are you?” He pulled a switchblade out of his pocket and started flicking it around. Tall guy shook his head. “That’s just what I thought.” While they were distracted and Celèste and I were still invisible, I ran out of the shadows and past the two fighting men – correction, fighting would infer that both sides were equal, this was more like running past the man being mugged and the mugger – and ducked in to a nearby café. A man with a curly moustache greeted us. He spoke with a typical Texan accent.

“Can I help you two?”

“Wait a minute, you can see us?” I gasped. The man nodded. He motioned for us to follow him in to the backroom.

“Gino!” An elderly man came running in. “I’m taking my break, now. That okay?” The old man nodded.

“How come you can see us?” Celèste asked.

“I am one of you,” He didn’t look like a typical Mïçun.

“And what exactly are we?” She demanded.

  “He’s,” He pointed at me. “A Mïçun. You're a Guardian.”

“If you're a Mïçun, then where’s your Guardian?” I questioned. A small creature flew out of his pocket and introduced herself.

“I’m Topi, and you are?” Celèste flew forwards and said,

“Celèste… and he’s Cato.”

"Well, this guy's names is Andy." She gestured to the guy with the moustache.

"That's an odd name for a Mïçun." I whispered to Celèste. I guess Andy heard me because the next thing I knew, everything was black, stuffy and silent...