Rosaline Wood (A Violet Eden Follow-on Reboot)

Chapter Eleven: The Embrace

The thing facing me had the head of a rhinoceros accompanied by the slit-like eyes of a cat. The lower half of its body was the hind legs of a zebra and the chest was that of a lion. It's thick, muscular arms were what you'd expect to find attached to a professional wrestler but they ended in razor sharp claws rather than finger nails. As if the repulsive combination wasn't grotesque enough to make me want to hurl, the creature snarled at me revealing thick, scarlet blood oozing off its blackened teeth and breath that reminded me of the time a rat had begun to decompose in the school locker-room. With a reeking bellow it made its charge; aiming for my chest.

I was gripped by primitive fear and my muscles seized up. I stood, frozen like a stone, as my heart hammered and my mind whirled. Suddenly, movement returned and like a spring a dodged out of the way at the last possible second. It flew past me so close I could feel the heat of its body and was quick to come again. After dodging the fifth charge, feeling the adrenaline beginning to fade, I realised that it wasn't going to tire as easily as I was. Desperately, I threw my eyes around, searching for some kind of weapon. Something I could attempt to defend myself with or attack the animal hybrid. In my hand the red ball, utterly forgotten, pulsed and grew warmer. Gradually, it became softer and began to drip out onto the white that was beneath my feet, pooling like waxy blood. I dodged a few more charges of the beast knowing it was only a matter of time before it realised it had to change tactics. Then I came up with the greatest idea in the history of the world; I would throw the melting gloop into the monster's eyes. Yeah I was that desperate. I attempted to rationalise my stupid plan. I could use it as a distraction so I could get into a position where I could trip up the mutant. With all its randomly selected parts surely it would have a hard time getting back up. Then I could run until I found a way out of this place. Like I said; I was that desperate.

The beast charged once again and I ducked down to gather up the soft remains of the ball, some in each hand. At the last moment the thing swerved. Damn! It had finally gotten wise. I threw my arms out to protect myself letting loose the red mess causing it to fly out of my hand and through the air. 'I wish I had a dagger' I thought helplessly, 'Like a Grigori blade.' The animal had learned from my previous evasion tactics. I could almost feel the wicked horn imbedding itself in my stomach. It was the end. I braced for the impact of the natural weapon running through my chest. I waited for the pain to start. And I waited. But there was nothing. Slowly I raised my head. The creature's horn was inches from piercing me. With a start I jumped back. As if in slow motion the beast keeled over and fell to the ground. Imbedded in its head were a pair of scarlet daggers.

    "Very well done," came the voice of the messenger angel, "Very well done indeed." To my disbelief he began to clap. He was clapping like it had been some theatre show! I shook my head, too spent to vent my rage.

    "What was that?" I asked wearily, waving a floppy hand in a sweeping gesture, "What was all this about?" He smiled at me, but it didn't reach his eyes. The pacifying smile of a school teacher.

    "It was a test," he explained, "You have passed. Now you may leave." With that he began to fade away.

    "Wait!" I demanded with a scowl, "Is this my embracing? Am I Grigori? And how do I get out of here? Who are you anyway?" But he was already gone.

    "Great," I mumbled searching for a way out, "Just great." The reason why I was here smacked me in the face. I was now stuck in some angel testing sight while my dad was dying! The beast was still lying on the ground. On a whim I pulled on the daggers out of the thing's skull. It slid out easily. The weapon was covered in a crust of wax which flaked off upon contact with my skin. As the red covering fell away it revealed a very attractive patterning to the knife. The handle was wood, so white and smooth I almost thought for a second it was pearl. The blade was like any other Grigori weapon but was inlaid with an intricate design of red swirls that seemed to be moving. It was perfectly balanced in my hand and utterly breathtaking. Respectfully, I retrieved the second of the pair.