Molly - Part 6

26

He was thrown against the ground as they laughed at him. The Hunter coming over and pushing him so that he was back against the ground. His old home.

He was lifted up, and he imagined himself a pup, and he hated himself, hated what he'd fallen to, taking The Hunter by the head then striking him, pulling out hair in bloody strips.

The Hunter grunted then punched him in the stomach. The Hunter able to gain some ground, striking him on the shoulder, his thigh. Trying to diminish him, reduce him.

He screamed, shoving The Hunter then finding a shard of glass on the floor and swinging, nearly cutting The Hunter but he had anticipated the move, grabbing him by the wrist and twisting so that the shard fell, The Hunter taking the glass and waving it in front of his face.

"You are playing with forces you cannot possibly fathom."

He roared, sinking forth, using the weight of him to hit The Hunter in the chest, The Hunter grunting, grasping him so that eventually he was stopped, feet skidding against cold earth.

"Nobody cares," The Hunter whispered into Sacred's ear. "Nobody's listening."

He howled in rage then beat against The Hunter, The Hunter laughing. Blood spraying on Sacred's face so that he was blinded, forced back onto the ground, pressure on his chest as he scrambled to wipe away the blood.

"You lose."

A general cheer as the sheep herders erupted from the fog, their pelts glowing bright-blue and as they gathered and clapped The Hunter on the shoulder then helped Sacred up, Sacred wincing as pain erupted on his chest and head.

"What--"

Bright lights etching across the face of the city. The sound of the dead and dying. Screeching, a sort of wail as more lasers were brought upon them, Sacred shielding himself, waiting to be cut down.

She appeared from the fog as well, holding a rifle in her hand, reloading it with one quick cut of the hand then rolled up to Sacred and pressed a pistol to his face with her other hand.

"You're wounded, sheep."

The top half of her face was concealed with a metal mask beneath a mess of black hair and the red jacket she wore was cut on the edges. Metal spikes running out of her knees, shoulders.

She smiled.

"What the hell are you," Sacred said, spitting blood.

"You've been busy," she said, her head darting around as if reading the world. "Kind of amazed there's still prey for a hunter."

Sacred spit again.

"New blood never lasts long."

"Oh don't worry hun; I've been around. See this?"

She lifted a part of her jacket--the right sleeve, showcasing a set of black-and-blue marks.

"Black for crows, blue for sheep. You people are so funny. You go on and on about being the best, being strong, partaking, but now you're using tech the fucking feds use."

Sacred forced himself to keep looking into that blank metal face, noticing the shard of glass on the ground. He wondered if The Hunter had made it. But as he was about to reach for the glass the girl smiled and pushed the shard away.

"Predictable."

"You are not a hunter nor prey," Sacred said, meeting her gaze. "You are defunct."

"Good! Very good."