"Are they, gone?" Her voice barely a whisper. He couldn't blame here. Gerrad had dealt with these creatures, ghouls and small ones too, before. So much so as they were his bread and butter for his profession. A profession that had died out for a few centuries before becoming dangerously en vogue.
"They ain't gone but they also aren't going anywhere." A flash of shadow caught his eye. A shape had ducked behind a corner just before he could focus on it. His nostrils flared as he breathed deep looking for the smell of living enemies. The cloying scwnt of the dead was bad and covered up everything else. In frustration, he spat into the dirt. Ghouls don't typically hide when blood had been spilled, and the pavement would need more than a few sprays to get it all off. Whatever was in that shadow wasn't a ghoul, that was for sure.
"You killed them?" Her voice was more sure of itself but it still quivered in her throat. She couldn't be more than sixteen and living this deep in the city had its perks of not seeing one of these things as often as those beyond the wall.
"As dead as my patience. Come girl, crawl yourself out of there." He took his eyes off the road, off the corner, but kept his ears on high alert. Silence was good but it held too many secrets. Slowly, his hand reached under the car and towards the cowering thing that looked up through wet eyes. "I only hurt monsters. Not young ladies. Now, let me see you better." This time she did take his hand, the one not covered in monster blood, and shimmied her way out from beneath the mini van that had enough claw marks on it to make the insurance agent feint.
Finally, she had gotten out from underneath the vehicle and stood before him. Her stance, given the situation, gave her a cocky air as she had her shoulders back and her nosed turned up at him. Elites, he thought, covered in grease and dirt yet still find a way to make you feel beneath them.
"Thank you, sir knight." He had to suppress a giggle as she curtsied as if they were in a more elegant ballroom as opposed to an empty street already teeming with flies over the fresh kills.
"I'm no knight and you can save the pleasentries for now. I have slain three but the usually rove in larger packs. We must make haste out of here, into some place warm and bright."
She looked around and pointed quickly at a hotel across the street. The high stone wall cleverly hid the metal spikes to thrawt climbing beasts looked like a good place to get behind. The entryway had a small guard shack with an armed man standing in it, mouth agape. Probably trained a dozen times for this exact incident but seeing as this is normally the quietest city, probably never turned theory into practice. Gerrad had half a mind to let his commander know, let his ears get boxed for not assisting with that rifle of his.
"Looks good. Come." He gave her shoulder a hard nudge as he pushed her ahead of him. Bringing up the rear he swiftly followed, his steps quick and quiet as he didn't feel the danger was over. Up and down the street he could see faces looking out from fortified windows. A couple cars rolled down the street but upon seeing the steaming corpses, let their tires do the talking and tore out of the area. Everything seemed normal and quiet but he didn't like that shadow earlier. He didn't like things spying on him. Rarely did monsters spy, that was more of a human past time.
As they approached the walled hotel, the guard with a closely trimmed haircut and neatly tucked shirt finally closed his mouth and rushed out of his guardhouse to meet the two.
"Are you folks alright?" His voice was uncertain, burdened by guilt Gerrad thought, and he was fidgeting with the modern pistol at his hip. It was still holstered but his nervous fingers inched towards the trigger.
"She's fine. Take her inside. I don't think my work is done here just yet." The clicking of claws on conrete behind Gerrad further exemplified his point.
It was only one more ghoul. The night gets more interesting, he thought as he slowly began to cirlce inwards towards the creature. Ghouls have a humanoid form but with slightly longer arms, broader shoulders and narrow waists. Their legs tended to be short and thick with muscle as the used their trunk as a spring board to catch their prey. Their extended forearms gave them an advantage when it came to reach but also forced them to shuffle on their hands and feet much like an ape. Gerrad knew the "magic" distance to keep from them. He had to stay far enough that a pounce would leave them vulnerable but not too close as to be reached by their long arms. The main thing was to keep moving. They attacked in a straight line and werent known for their ability to attack well from the sides.
"Come on, you filth," Gerrad cursed while drawing his short blade. In the city, it was largely illegal to use a fiream on the street unless absolutely necessary. Even for hunters like himself. The decaying creature hissed at him through its crooked, fang riddled jaw. The two eyes set deep in its fleshy head burned like cools from the reflected street lights. They were more accustomed to the dark and Gerrad attempted to position himself in front of the brightest light he could find in order to blind the beast to his attack.
It moved and rotated with him as he expected. A few more steps and the glare would force the creature to squint and lose focus, giving the armed hunter his opportunity to attack. Just a couple more steps left but suddenly the creature stopped. Gerrad kept pacing inwards at angle, cirlcing closer but the beast stopped following his movements. It focused its head on him, its neck creaking and groaning grotesquely but its hips and shoulders didn't move.
Interesting again, Gerrad thought. They normally never present their sides like that. They were too slow and vulnerable in this way, it was opening itself for an unguarded attack. Gerrad was about to lunge, when his curiosity with the odd behavior halted his normally decisive movements, saving his life. His hesitant step, had he taken it as he normally would have, would have put him right in the tracjectory of a silenced rifle round. He heard, more like felt, the buzz and whine of the metal flying past him then heard a faint crack just down the street and up high. The round whizzed past his ear, taking with it a scrap of flesh from the side of his head and landing harmlessly in a stone bench just to his left with a crack and splinter of concrete. The guard, who had returned from setting the young miss inside, instinctively ducked and drew his weapon. His eyes cast towards the sound of the report, ex soldier no doubt. Gerrad thought it strange that he was so dumbfounded when seeing a ghoul but so quick to act when assailed by a sniper. The creature seized the opportunity and lunged at Gerrad clumsily as it still had to rotate its stiff and massive legs. Gerrad was surprised by the round aimed at where the back of his head should've been but his muscle memory ttok care of the rest with his blade. He ducked under the obscene arms expertly and slid the blade deep under the arm pit severing the artery there completely letting momentum of the creatures lunge do the work. The stroke was clean but the aftermath wasn't. Warm, reeking, almost black blood sprayed his face and chest as the wretch continued its doomed trajectory past him. Pity, he thought, this was his favorite shirt.
Not forgetting the sniper, Gerrad rolled gracefully behind a stone planter big enough to hide two of him. He thanked the architects that designed the bollards that could stop tanks yet didn't bring down property value as he peeked over the planter. The creature attempted to get up from its fall, leaving a growing pool of sticky blood behind, but only stumbled and fell a couple more times before it ceased to rise. Its breath still could be heard but the cadence slowed and became shallower to it stopped all together.
The street was quiet again. He looked over at the guard who was currently relaying a message over a small, handheld radio.
As they approached the walled hotel, the guard with a closely trimmed haircut and neatly tucked shirt finally closed his mouth and rushed out of his guardhouse to meet the two.
"Are you folks alright?" His voice was uncertain, burdened by guilt Gerrad thought, and he was fidgeting with the modern pistol at his hip. It was still holstered but his nervous fingers inched towards the trigger.
"She's fine. Take her inside. I don't think my work is done here just yet." The clicking of claws on conrete behind Gerrad further exemplified his point.
It was only one more ghoul. The night gets more interesting, he thought as he slowly began to cirlce inwards towards the creature. Ghouls have a humanoid form but with slightly longer arms, broader shoulders and narrow waists. Their legs tended to be short and thick with muscle as the used their trunk as a spring board to catch their prey. Their extended forearms gave them an advantage when it came to reach but also forced them to shuffle on their hands and feet much like an ape. Gerrad knew the "magic" distance to keep from them. He had to stay far enough that a pounce would leave them vulnerable but not too close as to be reached by their long arms. The main thing was to keep moving. They attacked in a straight line and werent known for their ability to attack well from the sides.
"Come on, you filth," Gerrad cursed while drawing his short blade. In the city, it was largely illegal to use a fiream on the street unless absolutely necessary. Even for hunters like himself. The decaying creature hissed at him through its crooked, fang riddled jaw. The two eyes set deep in its fleshy head burned like cools from the reflected street lights. They were more accustomed to the dark and Gerrad attempted to position himself in front of the brightest light he could find in order to blind the beast to his attack.
It moved and rotated with him as he expected. A few more steps and the glare would force the creature to squint and lose focus, giving the armed hunter his opportunity to attack. Just a couple more steps left but suddenly the creature stopped. Gerrad kept pacing inwards at angle, cirlcing closer but the beast stopped following his movements. It focused its head on him, its neck creaking and groaning grotesquely but its hips and shoulders didn't move.
Interesting again, Gerrad thought. They normally never present their sides like that. They were too slow and vulnerable in this way, it was opening itself for an unguarded attack. Gerrad was about to lunge, when his curiosity with the odd behavior halted his normally decisive movements, saving his life. His hesitant step, had he taken it as he normally would have, would have put him right in the tracjectory of a silenced rifle round. He heard, more like felt, the buzz and whine of the metal flying past him then heard a faint crack just down the street and up high. The round whizzed past his ear, taking with it a scrap of flesh from the side of his head and landing harmlessly in a stone bench just to his left with a crack and splinter of concrete. The guard, who had returned from setting the young miss inside, instinctively ducked and drew his weapon. His eyes cast towards the sound of the report, ex soldier no doubt. Gerrad thought it strange that he was so dumbfounded when seeing a ghoul but so quick to act when assailed by a sniper. The creature seized the opportunity and lunged at Gerrad clumsily as it still had to rotate its stiff and massive legs. Gerrad was surprised by the round aimed at where the back of his head should've been but his muscle memory ttok care of the rest with his blade. He ducked under the obscene arms expertly and slid the blade deep under the arm pit severing the artery there completely letting momentum of the creatures lunge do the work. The stroke was clean but the aftermath wasn't. Warm, reeking, almost black blood sprayed his face and chest as the wretch continued its doomed trajectory past him. Pity, he thought, this was his favorite shirt.
Not forgetting the sniper, Gerrad rolled gracefully behind a stone planter big enough to hide two of him. He thanked the architects that designed the bollards that could stop tanks yet didn't bring down property value as he peeked over the planter. The creature attempted to get up from its fall, leaving a growing pool of sticky blood behind, but only stumbled and fell a couple more times before it ceased to rise. Its breath still could be heard but the cadence slowed and became shallower to it stopped all together.
The street was quiet again. He looked over at the guard who was currently relaying a message over a small, handheld radio.
