Chasing the Blue Box

2: I've always wanted to be scared for life.

    When I agreed to sign up, I did not agree to Faith calling me at four in the morning because she thought she saw the Blue Box. There was no sun yet. It's rays of light still hid underneath the horizon. Street Lamps were on, but their dull glow didn't help much in my room. I stumbled out of my bed, and tripping over stray books and clothing hazards. I grabbed my cell phone from my desk and answered in an annoyed, and groggy voice, "What. Do. You. Want.?"

"Police Box!" Faith yelled, I cringed and closed my eyes sighing.

"Shush..." I groaned, "where?"

"Right across Foster Lane."

"Why are you calling me then? You'd be bramy to think I'm coming."

"Why? It's better with friends..." Faith whined, like it was blatant.

"It's four in the bloody morning! Let me sleep. Call me at eight."

"...but I want someone that's very au fait with this stuff."

"Aliens? No. I'm not even close to being 'au fait'," I stumbled back to my bed and sprawled across it as I talked, "that's your area."

"No, I mean your observations. You're like a Sherlock Holmes."

"Faith," I warned, starting to lessen out of my morning fog.

"Don't be a blinkered, besides now your up," I could almost hear Faith's snicker on the other side. Her voice lightened toward the end, obviously taking enjoyment of reaching her goal. She's a nitwit sometimes.

"Fine. I'll take a gander but that's all," I sighed, listening to her squeal of excitement on the

other line before hanging up.  I grabbed my navy blue hoodie and slipped it over my sloth eating a pickle nightshirt. I changed into jeans and running out with only my sneakers and no socks. I lived close enough to Foster Lane I could run there. It was only four or so blocks away. The sidewalk was slippery with late night/early morning rain. Dark clouds blanketed the sky, darkening the mood. The street lamps gave off only an eerie, foggy golden glow. Haze and humid air loitered around above the colder ground. The streets were quiet along with the suburb's many residents. Their houses were mostly all dark except for a few stray windows filled with faint blue light from technology screens, and nightlights. My feet pounding against the sidewalk in a steady rhythmic jog was the only sound near by.

I started to pass up St. Paul's Cathedral when I took a break to breathe. I leaned my back up against the cathedral's Minnesota granite walls. The sounds of civilization bloomed around the Cathedral. Double Decker-buses and hustling youngsters with their pack of friends buzzed across the sidewalks by the street. This night was not as busy as I thought, it was rather slow and predictable. At least I almost thought it was predictable. If it wasn't for the sudden scream I heard from the Cathedral.

At first I thought one of the sisters and I sprang from the wall. I could hear her screaming continue toward the east wall, the one I was standing by. I listened to beyond her footsteps to hear hollowed out echoing hoof steps. They were calm, and determined. The tile underneath it's hooves let out microscopic screams as his weight cracked them. One of the sisters was running away from a horse. Wow. That was one way to start my day. I backed away from the wall and ran to the other side, trying to get in to help. The door was locked and I tugged on the handles strenuously. My arms started to burn and tense up from my violent, and sharp pulls. I ran over to the other side of the church, digging my heels into the soft and damp grass. I screamed once the glass in front of me shattered and the sister tumbled out. I tried to stop but the dew on the grass made me slip and slam my head against the wall. Loud ringing deafened around me, my vision started to blur. Agony burned across the side of my head along with a warm liquid dripping from it. I placed my hand on the side of my head to feel the blood dripping. I struggled to get up on my feet, I used the wall for help. My hand slid against the rough wall before slicing against the broken glass shards. I gasped out in pain, clutching the wound. I focused on the task in front of me, fighting through the blinding pain. I stumbled over to the sister on the ground, falling to my knees. I placed my index and middle finger on her carotid artery checking her pulse like they taught us in school. There was no pulse what so ever. I choked out a slight squeak of fear, I felt tears of pain and shock fall down my cheeks. I slumped on the wall and tried to think, thinking and placing logical chronological sequences together would help me focus better.
How did she die? Did the horse kick her, or was it the shock through the window? I glanced over at her robes. I could see the darkening stains around the white of her outfit, and the black with just a hint of darkening. I scooted over and placed my hand gently on her chest. I could feel the blood soak up and stain my hand. Carefully I removed her coat to see five deep gashes cut into her chest. Around the puncturing it was burned, like she was struck with a branding instrument with a knife-like end. Confused, I scooted backward and quickly got to my feet. I turned my attention to the broken window and peered inside. I saw just the glimpse of a Laurel green coloured blur vanish across the hall. I quickly scrambled to get through the broken window, slicing my arms worse. I tumbled across the floor, and picked myself up leaving a sprawl of blood. Ignoring it, I stumbled down the hallway, looking for object that moved.

"Hello?" I croaked out, unaware of my voice being affected by the shock I was going through. "anyone here?" I listened quietly to any response, yet all that acknowledged my yelling was my own echo. I limped toward the wall to lean against it and grab my phone. I tried to dial Faith, but blood from my fingers smudged up my screen. I could feel my heart slamming against my chest like an elbow against a locked door. I shut off my phone to let my body relax and I intently listened to my surroundings. Police Sirens. They were off in the distance and I hoped to god they were for the cathedral. Chatter. From pedestrians outside in the street was obviously louder than before. Footsteps. From what I hoped was a police officer. I quickly made a mental check of my capability to function.
What's two plus two? Nine. Easy. Eight minus three? Five. Yes, it must be five.

I was obviously functionally well, my math seemed exceptionally good during a crisis. Perhaps joining Mathletes at my old middle school would not have been the worst idea.
"Hello?" An older voice called out. It sounded like an authoritative man around his late thirties. I felt my heart start to beat faster then I thought was possible. I was so relieved I felt like crying.

"Yes! Hi! W-where.. are you?" I barfed out. My brain wasn't functioning fast enough to catch up to my words. They were tumbling out of my communication-hole like running water. 

"Follow my voice, Miss," he responded. His voice cooled my nerves like ice. It slithered around the corners of the cathedral's walls. I slipped into a shock induced trance from how it felt. My vision blurred around the edges, my reality felt obscured. As I turned around the corner he kept talking, his words were sliding out of his mouth like silk. I found my feet moving without my ability to feel them. Then I saw his face.

"His" face was an untrue explanation. "It's" face is better fitting for the moment. It wasn't human, and I knew in my heart without a hint of doubt it wasn't someone in a costume either.  My heart started it's marathon again. I felt like my body was a cage for a canary that was foolishly caging a wild falcon. It's wings thumping violently against my chest that the possibility of it shattering seemed plausible. I struggled to gain control over my body again, all I could move was my fingers. I dug my fingernails into the heel of my palm. The sweat and blood of my palms almost made them slip. I felt like I was going to die.

It was at least seven feet tell. It's bottom half of it's body was a dirty grey horse. Obsidian tail, twisted and knotted. Hooves shinned despite the obvious tarnish and stain a matching colour. Dull and lifeless greenish fur blotches speckled along it's back along with spots of scaling in the middle of the odd colour differences. The rest of it's body was a muscular what looked to be lizard. It wore a long snout with unfitting fangs poking out of it's lips like a crocodile. It's scales were an albino white with graceful, crimson eyes and amber slits. However it's hands were far from grace. It's fingernails hosted two foot Stygian talons. The edges glowed like embers in the dark of the cathedral. 

It's face grew close to mine, the breath burned my face as it blew from it's cracked open mouth. It's lips seemed to grow into a twisted grin. I tried to squirm but I couldn't remember how to move my limbs.

"Pretty... girl.." It hissed. The voice wasn't the cop anymore. It was a vile and disgusting snake's. 

"Pretty frying pan." A new voice rang out, and was accompanied by a whistling of air and a metallic crack against scales. The lizard-horse snapped it's head to the side looking for the owner of the cooking utensil. It was a very tall, and white haired girl, dressed in an american "I love the Big Apple!" hoodie. Her accent matched her attire. 

"Foolish.. girl.." It snarled viciously, it's crimson eyes glowing brightly. The jaws acted like a mousetrap, opening and snapping shut in an instant. Faster than a human could ever blink. It's talons scraping against her stomach in the same manor. However maliciously the attacks seemed to miss her, despite being only three feet away.

"This would be a brilliant time to run." She offered, and I found my legs and ran.