In Form

Hexacious

    Who was shooting at us? Did the cops find us? Am I going to be saved?
   Everyone was out of the car now, trying to find the shooter. It then became silent for two seconds before I heard fighting outside the car.
    Punches were being thrown, I heard a lot of things hit the car and the ground. More gun shots went off. Two hunters had taken refuge on the other side of the car, panting heavily, as if they were safe. Someone jumped on top of the car and was slowly walking towards them.
    It was quiet for a moment, to where the only thing I could hear was my own heart beat. I could only hope the shooter didn't hear it. Even the hunters against the side of the car seemed to stop breathing.
    My breath hitched and I began to quietly scoot forward. I could run while he's distracted with the others.
    I instinctively ducked at the sound the last gun shot that seemed to be right next to my ear. I squealed. I heard a couple running footsteps away from the car and a body drop onto the pavement.
    I held my breath and sat still, listening. It was quiet.
    The sound of car metal being stepped on made me flinch and look up at the roof of the car. The gunman was still atop the car.
    He walked down the car and jumped off the end where I was.
    I gasped and scooted back against the back of the seat behind me.
    He stood up and turned around. He had dark hair and needed a shave, tall, and looked like he doesn't get much sleep. There was nothing else off about him other than the gun in his hand and the extra padding in the shoulders of his jacket.
    He recoiled slightly as if he had smelled something overwhelming or foul. He then grabbed my ankles and pulled me towards him. I squealed and kicked, he told me to hold still and he grabbed my wrists. Then I realized, he was undoing my bound hands. He un-did the knot around my wrist.
    I rubbed my hands and wrists from the rope burns that made red marks around them. I looked up at him in confusion. Why was he saving me? Although, he could still be dangerous, I've gotta get out of here. It could be a trick.
    "What's your name?" He asks me, tilting his head to the side. I don't answer but only stare at him, wondering how to react. "Are you okay?" Although my emotions are jumbled, his voice seems to be the only calm thing right now.
    I don't say anything but looked down at my still burning bullet wound. He followed my eyes down to the bloody hole in my calf. The blood had ran down my to my ankle and was getting my sock wet now.
He sighed as if it was it was a burden, and set his gun down in the car. He put his hand above the wound and steadied himself.
    "Hold still, this might hurt." He bowed his head to focus and took in a sharp breath as he flexed his hand.
    Pain shot through my calf and I cried out. It was as if daggers were stabbing into my leg, desperately trying to dig out the bullet. The bullet flew out of my leg, flinging blood out with it, and straight into his hand. The pain suddenly calmed down and I could feel the hole in my leg healing and closing. I sighed in relief and looked at the man in front of me, holding the bullet between his fingers.
    "I bet that little bugger hurt, didn't it?" He said holding up the bloody half-inch bullet. He flicked it onto the road and turned back to me. "Are you well enough to fly?" I shook my head no. There was no way I was going on a plane with this man. "Alright, let's get this thing going..." as he tried to turn away he was met with an all too familiar body.
    The big man who tide up my hands came around the end of the car with his pistol drawn. His face was bruised from hard punches, and he limped on his right leg. Blood ran down his temple, and stained his shirt.
    The guy who helped me didn't move but he put up his hand in the shape of a gun, and pointed it at the large man.
    I gasped at the sight of the man with the real gun and looked between the two who just stared at each other.
    The hunter laughed. "Son, I'm not an idiot."
    The man shrugged. "That could be debated." Funny. He sound kind of like Dragolya when he said that.
    The hunter looked offended. "Watch your mouth, boy!" He stepped forward.
I looked back towards the front of the car, wondering if I could make it out in time before he could shoot me.
The large man looked at me for a second but never moved his aim. "Oh no you don't- stay where you're at little miss or I'll blow a hole in that leg again."
I stayed put.
    The guy without a gun didn't move. "You better watch yourself..." He sang. He never wavered from his spot. His hand stayed steady, pretending to be a gun.
    A new object caught my attention when the hunter stepped forward. A hand gun from one of the other dead hunters was floating behind the large man, pointed right at the center of his back. He had no clue. I looked at the guy pointing his finger like a gun, wondering if this was his doing.
    The hunter shoved his gun forward. "Don't you know-"
    The helpful man put his thumb down.
    BANG
    The hunters grip on the gun loosened and he stood there staring for a second or two before the man poked him in the chest to make him fall backward. He landed with a thud and was dead.
    I gasped, putting my hand over my mouth to cover my squeal and looked to the man fearfully. He was still extending his hand as the gun, which shot the large man in the back, flew into his hand like a magnet. He bent down to pick up the hunters gun as he put the other gun in his jacket pocket.
    This was my chance to get away.
    I hoped off the end of the car, my leg contesting, and ran around the car to the driver side. I spotted the hunter lady who glared and yelled at me, slumped over against the car with blood dripping down her head, staining her light brown hair. I held in the urge to hurl.
    I hopped in the car, the keys were gone. Then I remembered the blown tire, which I now realize it was the man who shot the tire. I couldn't go anywhere with a blown tire. I looked in the side mirror to see the man walking after me. I crawled to the passenger side and opened the door, hoping to run into the woods, but being on all fours and in a hurry, I fell forward through the door and onto the ground. I landed on my back with a hard thud. My breath escaped me and a small noise crackles through my throat. I take in a breath only to feel the burning sensation that is my trachea.
I noticed a figure lying next to me. I slowly looked over. His dark hair twisted slightly in the breeze, the body of the man who was talking to me in the back of the car, who's name I now know was Garry, laid stiff on the ground next to me. My eyes widened in shock, and I didn't feel the need to breath. He had been shot straight in the chest, probably dying instantly, but how his face had already paled so ghostly white frightened me.
    I was yanked out of the fearful trance by my arm and onto my feet.
    The man held my shoulders and looked into my eyes. "What are you doing?" He asked me, while holding my shoulders firmly.
    I couldn't speak. I had just witnessed someone shooting another, then I fell and laid next to a dead body. I was frozen.
    "Get in the car. They'll be coming soon, more of them." He said spinning me around and guiding me into the car. "Now, stay in here while I get the tire fixed, ya?" I blindly followed his instructions, still stiff from shock. I wanted to move, to run away, to get away from this stranger, but I couldn't. My eyes stayed fixed on the gravel ahead of me, I felt strangely comfortable how and where I was sitting despite the horrific things I just saw all at once. My body declined any running, even if I were to surprise myself into moving again by just going, I think my legs would give out.
    It seemed to take only minutes before he was beside me in the driver side door. He pulled out a large set of keys of all different colors from his pocket and seemed to know which one to use. He put it in the ignition and the car roared to life. He stepped on the gas and we flew out of there. We made a U-turn and began back down the road where I came from.
After the first slight turn I ask him to pull over. As soon as there was space between me and the open door I threw up whatever was left in my stomach. I spit a few times, then grabbed a few napkins I found in the side pocket to clean my mouth.
I looked up at the forest ahead of me, I clutched the door handle as I was leaning out. I felt the man's eyes on me, not like before though. He knew what I wanted to try, to run again, but he was ready and I wasn't prepared.
I sighed, knowing that was a dumb idea, and closed the door. The man in the passenger seat loosened up again and started back down the road.
    We sat in silence for a while and I began to search the car for something to do. At my feet I found Onyx's pink purse. I opened it boringly and shuffled through it.
    Makeup, ID, money -which I took-, a couple books, and recites. I picked out the two books that she had in her purse, because 'you can tell a persons personality by the books they read'. The first one I found was a Nicolas Sparks book and the other had thick leather bindings and a buckled strap. I put Nick Sparks away and went to unlock the buckle. As I touched the warm metal I felt shocked and my vision flashed like the lights went out around me and I heard noises; voices, talking, screams, but only in that one second.
    The man must have heard my gasp because he looked at me funny. He nodes to the book knowingly. "Ah, the 'hunters book of lore'." He said mysteriously. I looked back down at the book as if it was a precious jewel. "Nah, just messin'" he said more normally this time, as if it meant nothing all of a sudden. "I don't know what is" he chuckled. "Looks funny though, eh?"
    I opened the book to see writings and scribbles in different colors of pen over the words that were originally there. Pictures in black and white and color were taped, paper clipped, and stapled to the pages as I flipped through them. Hastily scribbled notes were written in the corners and sides of the book. I felt some of the old black and whites just to find out they were printed from a modern printer in mono or noir.
    He glanced occasionally over to the book, more interested once it was open. "I guess there's more to it. Whenever she actually had an emotion, she'd probably pull that out and read it like it was her religion." The man pointed and scoffed. I assumed he was referring to Onyx.
    "Did you shoot Onyx too?" I questioned suddenly.
    He looked to me with surprise. "Oh- she can speak!" He said humorously. His tone of voice ringing in the back of his throat.
    "Sorry." I mumbled, realizing it was rude. "I just- Onyx. Did you...kill her to?" I hesitated on the word kill.
    He looked at the road for a while. "Who's that again?"
    "Uh, the girl who owned this book and bag." I say lifting up a little to show him. "She was the only one wearing pink." I add quietly, still unsure if this strange man.
    "No." He pinched his lips together and shook his head. "No I didn't. Why?"
    I sighed. "Nothing important." I held my thumb over the pages and let them fly. I let them stick to a page and lifted my head again. "Why didn't you shoot her?"
    "I'm told too..." He didn't finish but seemed to be off in his own world, as if he realized something, I was afraid he might drift off the road. He sighed. "I do that because, I need someone to send the message back. Basically, to send back fear to her superiors." He explained like a professor, using his hand as a gesture.
    I sat back. This guy seems familiar in a way. "What's your name, if you mind me asking?"
    "Who wants to know?" He turned to me with a grin.
     I straightened my shoulders confidently. "Amber." I said lowly.
     He took in a breath before speaking. "Hexacious. Pleased to make your acquaintance." He said in a proud and formal tone, while looking out towards the road. He stretched out his hand, after a seconds thought I shook it.
    Hexacious. Where do I know that from? "That sounds familiar actually. What's your last name?" I ask, getting more confident in speaking to this guy.
    He hesitates and said, "I-I don't remember." He said simply.
    "Don't remember? How do you forget?" I asked, astonished.
    "Well, after a few hundred years - I've just never used it." He kept cutting himself off.
    I nodded thoughtfully. "How old are you?"
    "Five hundred and twenty four." He nodded.
    He was only three years younger than Dragolya.
Wait. Hexacious... I knew I've heard that before. 'He had crazy black curly hair that hung past his ears. He was well built, and dirty.' I recalled from the vision I had from Dragolya's scar. The vision tries to replay in real-time, creeping into my head. I shut it out. 'Hex." Dragolya sighed out, obviously missing him. "But his full name is, Hexacious."'
    Hexacious - Of course.
    I shoved the memories back so I could speak. "Hex?" I said out loud while looking him over and comparing him to the Hexacious I saw in my vision.
He seemed to react weird to hearing his name shortened like that and furrowed his brows.
The memories and some unfamiliar ones swirled around my head unleashed, I couldn't keep them back because they somehow weren't in my head anymore. I could hear voices outside and inside the car getting louder, pictures of people and places I didn't know popped in and out of my vision like a scary movie. I held my temple as the street got warped and blurry. I tried my best to reel it all in, or least shoo them away. I could feel them start to calm down though.
I looked at the man I thought to be Dragolya' Hex, he was blurry too, but it was beginning to go away. Once I looked at him though, the voices and pictures came back worse. Fire, blood, screaming, voices, chaos. It was a mad house.
Hex's face changed as it looked like he was seeing things too- or remembering them. He looked upset.
    The car slammed to an abrupt stop. I flew forward but my seatbelt caught me before my head could ram into the dash. He sharply looked at me, which made me flinch back. He looked me up and down before answering. "Who are you?" His voice grew deeper and frightened me. "Who are you, exactly?"
   That sobered me up, the visions were gone, the voices were gone and everything was clear again. "I just told you." I said breathing harder. His eyes turned red as he stared me down. "I-I-I know Dragolya, and Mistory..." His eyes widened with the familiar names. I cleared my throat. "They've been helping me with this... Dragon thing-"
    "Dragon thing? What is it that you mean?" He began to soften in facial features and his eyes turned back to brown.
    "I mean, I just figured out what I was just a couple weeks ago." I said plainly.
    He just stared at me, probably trying to see if I was joking. The look almost frightened me. He suddenly let out a burst of laughter. This also frightened me. "Are you serious?" He laughed. "How old are you?"
    "Fifteen." I said offended by his laughter.
    He raised his eyebrows. "So... they happen to find you?" The car began to move again and head down the road which calmed me down, but he never looked at the road, giving me a whole new reason to be nervous.
    "Um... Well, I was first confronted by this white wolf- who Mistory said was from 'the council'- then I was attacked by Onyx... The hunter that you let go, but Mistory saved me. That's when I met them, though, at first Dragolya wasn't happy to see me because my mom hit her with her car the night before-"
    "You hit her? Is she hurt?" He demanded quickly.
    "No, she healed right up." I quickly said. His mood swings were throwing me for a loop.
    He relaxed again and tried to keep the conversation going. "So that must have been a shock to you... A wolf talking to you."
    I laughed. "Yeah, I thought I went crazy." This only reminded me of my mom. "She wasn't a wolf then, she was a lady."
Hex nodded and hummed in affirmation. He shook his head in reminisce, like he's done that before.
    I looked back down at the book in my lap. I skimmed through the book boringly. It became silent again so I decided to read a passage aloud. There was a black and white picture of two men in an alley way, they looked dead, but the picture was really distorted.
    "'1923, Chicago, Outside northwest speakeasy. Club 49~'" I've heard of these before, when alcohol was illegal. "'My sights were now on the bobbed red head who floated among everyone. I counted that she had consumed about seven hoozers'..." I faded out, wondering if I should even read this aloud.
"Alcohol." Hexacious helped. "They were alcoholic drinks."
I glance at him. "'She's not even tipsy. I had already talked to her, acting off my stool of course, and I caught her ogle my rings with a glimpse of gold in the irises.' So he knew she was one of them..." I thought out loud. "Wait, can dragons not get drunk?" I absently asked the driver.
    He nodded. "Our bodies quickly react to any poison that enters our bodies. We have a uh, fast metabolism." He nodded. "But it is possible."
    I continued. "'It had been two hours now, she headed for the door. I 'rocked' to the door among a group of other slingers out and onto the street. Then I lost her.'" I flipped the page. "Why is he following her?" I asked Hex.
    He sighed. "Just, keep reading." He said plainly. "You'll find out."
    "'I had searched high and low before I pulled out my pocket watch and hit the top button. I waited for someone to move, to flinch, or cover they're ears. But no one moved. I had almost given up when I heard a man audibly cringe. I rushed to the alleyway where the voice came from. I thought, at first, it was a drunk, but when I saw the whole scene I saw blood, bodies, and ice. The beast was knelt to the ground from my watches blast, her red wig was half way off the side of her head, exposing her white hair. Blood was fresh dripping from her mouth, her dress torn. Her two innocent victims laid against the alley walls facing each other, they're bodies scratched and beaten. One mans arm was covered thick with ice, as well as the walls. The she beast growled at me while I reached for my gun. I attempted to pull the trigger but I could only hear the click of an empty gun. Frustrated, I threw the gun to the ground and went to reach for my dagger, but a young girl, who smelled of alcohol, leaned onto me and ask for my name. I struggled to get her off of me, but when I did, the beast was gone.'" I sat for a minute thinking about what I had just read.
    I tapped the pages thoughtfully. "She just killed them, like, for no reason?" I questioned out load. "Is this real?"
Avoiding my question he asks. "Where is Dragolya now? Has she traveled far?" His voice now had a British accent, he paused for a moment and asked again without one. "Do you know where Dragolya is now?"
    "Yes." I nodded. "It's actually pretty close to my house."
    "Where?" He demanded.