Secret Stalker

CHAPTER :11:

©Copyright 2015 Marygold Mariam. All Rights Reserved.

♤Chapter Eleven♤

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Eleonora's plunge into darkness lasted but a minute or two. She reemerged from the semi void, struggling to shake its hold of her.

The earlier dizziness was overwhelming and Eleonora was fighting to keep it at bay. If she kept her focus on it, Eleonora knew it would swallow her again.

Something landed adjacent to her, causing her to jump in surprise. Two bodies flayed their limbs around with the intent of inflicting harm upon one another.

Eleonora dragged herself away, trying to avoid the brawl taking place before her. Dust sprayed into the air as the disturbance rolled on it.

Managing to detangle themselves from each other, the two men sprang onto their feet. Resuming their battle stances, they started circling each other. Each man was observing his opponent, searching for any sign of weakness.

Taking advantage of being out of attentions way, Eleonora studied her surroundings. When she did, she noticed details she hadn't before.

Studying the man right in front of her was fruitless. With his long, ankle length, crow black hooded cloak, his whole back side was obscured from Eleonora's view. Plus, Eleonora had the weird feeling that he was deliberately concealing his face from her. However he moved, his face was always hidden from her.

Her attacker, on the other hand, was completely with in her line of sight. His scruffy pants and jacket were coated with dust and dotted with rips. Strangely, the rips didn't seemed to be made by any type of manmade weapon. In fact, they were long and wild with a pattern of...fingers. Eleonora studied them, confused. What could have possibly made those tears?

The two people before her weren't the only ones here, aside from her. Encircling them were four men, other that her attacker, all positioned in attack mode. All dressed in slightly dirtied dull cloths, several types of weapons were tucked in pockets all over their filthy bodies. Each man's face was dusty unshaved, giving an impression that they slightly desolate.

Outside the circle made by the four stood a fifth individual. Unlike the others, he didn't look like he belonged in this scene. His hair was neatly designed and his face was cleanly shaven, except for a ship-shape goatee on the tip of his chin. In fact, he was dressed in a tuxedo, tie and all.

He stood behind his opposites, rubbing his beard as he circled the scene. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out that he was the obvious leader of this group.

The cloaked man, Eleonora noticed, was acting averagely strange. No matter where he followed his opponent too, his back was always to and in close distance to Eleonora. Every move he made seems to insure that he stayed close to her. It seemed as if he was...defending her.

His opponent lunged towards the right, trying to get the man on the side and at the same time trying to reach Eleonora. From the distance of his assault, Eleonora knew that the man before her wouldn't be able to maintain his defense without moving.

He, though, seemed to have another trick up his sleeve as he withdrew a long blade from within his cloak and used it to deflect the attack. The knife struck the attacker on his right arm, opening a medium gaping gash.

The wounded released a loud yell of pain, cursing profusely as he recoiled with a cradled fore limb. The cloaked man resumed his stance with his long knife held firmly in his hand.

As if spotting an entrance he quickly lunged, catching his opponent by surprise. The scruffy man tried his best to react quickly but he was no match for the cloaked one.