From Me to You (SkippyTheMudkip's 400 Followers Contest Entry)

Four - Asvoria

Damon and I ran down the nighttime city roads, dashing under the yellow glow of the streetlights. Whenever we went under a lamp, I found myself staring at my companion's pale, strong-jawed face, glaring out at the world like it had personally offended him.

Who is this man? I thought, turning my eyes back to the scenery before me. Some part of me felt drawn to him, like we were two sides of the same coin. Maybe Damon was the thing I'd always felt was missing, that empty part of me that needed another person to fill it. I would say soulmates, but not in the ucky romantic way. I had no inclination to make out with someone who I just met, and especially a someone who I had just met by getting kidnapped by him.

Even so, I wanted to know more about Damon. Why did he say I was his 'only chance'? And why was it that he would sometimes shake his head, like he was dispelling an angry bee? Damon was a mystery I wanted to figure out.

We skidded around a corner- and stopped. Four police cars were blocking the road, their sirens blaring and lights flashing.

"HALT. YOU ARE UNDER ARREST." a loudspeaker on one of the cars boomed.

"Not if I can help it," muttered Damon, and leaped sideways onto the fire escape of the building next to us. I took the hint and vaulted myself after him, frustrated by the way he could take the stairs three at a time while I could only take them two. A moment later, heavy footsteps thundered on the fire escape as the police chased after us.

"Hurry up, Asvoria!" called Damon from a floor up. I increased my stride and soon, I could see the back of my companion's black sweatshirt.

"Why are they -huff, huff- chasing you?" asked Damon as we ran side-by-side.

"It's- huff- dark," I replied. "They think I'm- huff, huff- one of the kidnappers."

After that, we stopped talking. We instead spilled out onto the rooftop.

Thankfully, the place was dotted with vents, air-con boxes and various other apparatus that appeared on apartment house roofs. Damon grabbed my arm and pulled me behind a huge, curved vent that was whistling and roaring.

"We can't stay here," he muttered to me, his eyes twinkling a faint green in the deep nighttime shadow of the vent. "They'll find us, easy. We'll have to take them out."

I nodded. "I, um, taught myself some mixed martial arts a little while ago."

He looked at me confusedly. "How?"

"YouTube videos. I didn't have all that much to do, and creativity is fleeting and never there when you want it." Damon looked at me even more strangely. "I'm a writer, dumbass. Come on, focus."

"How many are there? Poke that tiny head of yours out and look."

"My head is not tiny!"

"Would you prefer it to be big? Come on, just do it already."

I groaned, but leaned over and looked out from behind the vent. Two police officers were scanning the area with flashlights, the beams cutting through the night like knives of illumination.

"There's only two of them," I hissed when I got back around. Damon tweaked his mouth sideways, then glowered in a thinking manner.

"We can take them out," he said, chewing a bit on his bottom lip. I nodded, raising myself into a crouch. 

"You take the one on the left, I'll take the one on the right?" I asked playfully, but to my surprise, Damon nodded.

"Yep. Hit him over the head, knock him out."

"What are you going to do?" I asked, a bit nervously.

He cracked a devious smile. "You'll see."

And we began. 

I was about to move, but Damon dashed out from the shadows like a patch of gloom himself, moving from place to place as quickly and silently as a water-skater, then got to a box next to the policeman.

I watched, my heart in my throat, as Damon crouched...

The unlucky policeman heard movement, so he walked a step closer. Damon struck, his hands flying, and suddenly the policeman was on the ground, completely unconscious.

"Wow," I whispered.

My companion dashed back to his hiding spot and looked at me pointedly. 

"What are you doing?" he hissed, glowering. "Go get him!"

I nodded and jumped from behind the vent...

And tripped.

I grimaced as my foot clanged, incredibly loudly, against the metal side of the vent. Damn my clumsiness!

The policeman turned, and his beam nearly landed on my twisted form. I gulped.

"Who's there?" he cried, and I nearly had a heart attack. I leaped up on my scraped and bloody hands and dashed towards him, not even thinking, and swung a roundhouse kick at his head.

He crumpled to the ground with a sickening crack, and the red haze disappeared from my vision. The policeman was out cold, his blood inky-black in the moonlight. It almost looked like I had killed him.

I put my hand to my mouth, feeling tears prickle behind my eyelids. 

Oh god.

Oh god, what have I done?

Damon sprinted over, not looking at me as he checked the downed policeman's heartbeat. After a moment, he stood and stared at me with something unidentifiable in his eyes. Was he disgusted, angry, horrified?

"He's alive," Damon said, walking over calmly. "You broke his jaw, though. He may never speak again."

"What have I done?" I whispered, aghast. I may have crippled this man for life.

It was just then that I noticed the searing pain in my ankle. I squeaked a little and clutched it, feeling the hot, inflamed skin under my hands.

"I-I twisted my ankle," I managed to gasp. Damon looked concerned, then looked my ankle.

"You sure did," he said, then put his arm over my shoulders. "We'll take the fire escape slow, just lean on me."

I did. He was so close I could feel the heat of his body, warm and alive behind my fingers. I grimaced and took a step forwards...

"Hey, you!"

I opened my eyes to see more policemen, spilling out onto the roof like an infestation. When I looked up at his face, I could see Damon's neck tighten, then he moved his hand.

"No other choices," he muttered, and scooped me up in one quick movement. It was all I could do to hold on and pray that he didn't drop me as Damon raced across the roof, making our escape with bloodied hands.

What a plot twist.