The Roar In Her Voice

Vexation and Potential

I was at a standstill.

I didn't want to call to Mike. That thing- that foot-looking thing- might move once I made noise.

I couldn't get past it. It's in the way. I could only reach one branch, which is the branch the foot is on.

"Cleo?" Mike called for me. "Where are you?"

It didn't move. Relieved at the temporary mercy, I whispered, "Mike... there's a thing... a really weird thing... and I need you not to make noise."

"A what?" He half-whispered, half-yelled.

"Just shut it!" I cautiously leaned forward and tried to take a peek at the foot. It suddenly shot out of sight.

"Mike!" I called out frantically, the branch I was holding on to starting to shake. "It's gone!"

He didn't respond.

The silence with the missing voice was so loud it was deafening.

"Mike?" I whimpered. No reply.

Trying my best to push my fears aside, I reached for the next branch, stretching my arms in a straining effort.

My fingers barely closed around the branch when a foot stomped on my fingers. I drew my hand back with a yelp.

A hooded figure stood above me, it's face covered, yet no amount of cloth could hide the menace and bloodlust shining in its yellow eyes.

"Mike?" I asked. It was his build, his height, but those eyes...

Leaves rustled behind me, and I turned around, one hand holding the trunk for support.

Another cloaked figure stood in front of me, obviously a girl. She looked familiar...

I heard a groan, and I looked up to see Mike tied to the tree. The real Mike.

I couldn't scream. Couldn't move. My lungs decided to give up and stop breathing.

"Must we kill her now, or preserve her?" the cloaked boy asked. I flinched; he sounded like Mike. But the words were not his.

The hooded girl was suddenly next to the boy, so fast her body was nothing but a blur. She was agile, not even rustling the smallest of leaves.

What happened next was so sudden neither I nor boy expected it.

Her hand sped forward, and she slapped her partner.

The boy took a small step back and scowled at the girl. He didn't seem hurt, but he was fiercely angered.

"Sanhe," he spat. He turned his attention towards me, and leaped in front of me. I yelped and pressed my body against the trunk.

"Pathetic," he laughed. "I put up more of a fight."

I didn't understand what he meant by that, but I felt angry. I was not pathetic. Weak I may be, but never pathetic.

I slapped him.

The girl laughed, amused and very contagious. Her voice was like a ringing bell, a wake-up call to my memories: like she was someone I used to know.

My focus was jarred back to the boy yelling at the girl in a succession of words in a different language. The girl kept laughing, regardless of the furious boy in front of me.

I used the moment as a distraction. I slammed my body against the boy, and he toppled off the branch.

He yelled as he fell, his voice fading away the lower he got. The girl was surprised, but she quickly recovered. She drew her knives, and with a snarl, she leapt at me.