Junkyard

9/6/2021

"Are you tired already? Your hands are getting sweaty."

How did I get into this situation? Bracing against my right foot with a sword was a small girl of about fifteen summers as we both descended through the skies. Her hair flew upwards in a tangled mess, but I was still able to discern the same cocky smile on her face. There was a big chunk missing on her left shoulder, and the hand on her other arm is bleeding from holding on to the bladed section of her sword.

I fired a few more shots into her chest but it was as if she was a doll. No reaction at all. The smile kept on her face as I pulled out a serrated blade. Better to cut her head off.

Her second sword swept through the air behind me, and I angled my blade just in time to hold it off. The sword inched closed, creating sparks until it seared into my lower arm. A small flame began to spread from there.

"Shit!"

I could barely feel my foot already and now this other sword. I thought I had removed it from her grasp but who knew it could move of its own. The sword below my foot contains some kind of ice magic and it made sense that this red one had fire at its disposal.

The edge of a building entered my peripheral and I teleported for it. I could sense the girl chasing after me effortlessly. Just before I landed, I turned around and brought down my blade. She blocked it by crossing her swords and the impact forced my weapon to fly from my hand into oblivion.

I still had my gun and several other types of firearms on my person, but I doubted they would affect her much.

Her voice cut through the cold night air. "Weapons should be played with where they were made. More enjoyable, don't you think?"

"Is that some kind of threat?" I asked, putting out the flames on my arm.

The girl stepped closer while I stayed my ground.

"Just advising on your use of modern firearms. They're kinda dangerous." She drawled staring down the barrel of my gun. "Your control of them in Authele is also, kinda dangerous. Getting out of hand, you see?"

Just who is she? No one in this realm is supposed to know where I come from. They wouldn't be able to anyway with their inferior senses. Just my luck that this person who messed with my dealings also somehow knows about me. She had probably followed me here, even though I've never seen her before.

Well, if she had wanted to kill me, she would have done so already. Back at the warehouse, she had killed everyone before they were aware of her presence just to get those swords. Now it seemed as if she was reading me. Shaking me out before the ultimate kill?

"We're done here." She declared suddenly, walking away. "Be more mindful of where you come from, Zayn."

A shock ran through me.

"How do you know that name?!" The shout escaped my lips. It was a name that only myself and one other should know. A name obscured by thick memories. It wasn't good an unknown anomaly knew it after all that I had done.

Without warning, she was right next to me, so close I could see the brown flecks in her eyes. Then, as if in slow motion, her hand came up and the mask I was wearing dropped to the ground with a loud clack.

A deep voice passed into my ears although it was most likely not from her lips. It seemed to be in my mind – a sinister echo that dredged back flashes of memories.

"It was really good to meet you again, young Zayn."

I felt my knees crash to the ground. Drip. Drip. Red pooled on the ground.

A dark shadow between golden reeds.

Two glinting horns.

Lashes on the back. Punishments for escape.

Dizzying bright lights and an unfamiliar night sky.

Before, maybe?

Woman with a smile different from the others. So warm...

"You'll be Zayn, alright?"

No, after.

Red eyes and a frightening smile.

"Remember and use it wisely, Zayn." A voice commanded.

That voice! So I've spoken to her before? But why don't I remember anything?!

By the time I got back my bearings, the girl had already disappeared. Even so, I don't think she would have answered my questions from what I got in our short exchange. She seemed to expect me to find answers myself by recollecting. But that was the thing with my life. I can't remember many important points, the events that caused me to diverge from the "average" moments, of my life...

~

I've always been alone throughout my life. Sure, I have Freddie, a loyal friend from my days in the orphanage but he doesn't have the necessary capabilities to tag along in my ventures. As far back as I could remember, I've always been abandoned or alienated from others. The woman with the warm smile took me in, then left me in an orphanage. The sisters in the orphanage feared I would be a bad influence on other children and when opportunity came, turned me in to illegal investigators. After that point, my memories are still clouded but...there were pain unimaginable.

I have no clue whatsoever of my parents or tribe, if I even have any.

The only thing that has always returned to me is this mask. It has always been in my possession. No matter how or where it has been separated to, it seemed to always come back one way or another.

The ox-man, leader of those illegal investigators, had called it a cursed object. To me, the mask is just a piece of equipment that I use to cover my face with. It holds no hidden power or message, despite those evil people's misguided ideas. In fact, the mask was one of two things that cause many people to shun and persecute me.

The other is my left eye with its strange manifestation, that everyone called a "demonic eye".

A/N: I'm soooo procrastinating. I've submitted all my hw for this semester except for this one which is about programming a pacman-like game. It's due in 2 days aaaahhh