The Clara Chronicles

Clara walked through the street, her feet crunching in the snow and the wind gnawing on her skin as it whipped in the air. She could feel her Araken blade in her boot, and she remembered how ecstatic she felt when she made it through the airport's metal detector without setting it off. She could just imagine being interrogated by an officer as he confiscated her most prized possession, trying to explain that she had to go right that very second. She turned onto the next street, following the footprints of the Daraxi, until they stopped in front of a warehouse.

Oh great, she thought. They always choose warehouses.

By now she could smell the creature, its pungent odor was wafting through the air as she made her way into the warehouse. She drew out her blade, which she called Arix, and made her way towards the Daraxi. She studied the warehouse as she made her way through it, thankful that this time the Daraxi had chosen a warehouse that was abandoned.

Clara brushed the cobwebs out of her face as she looked for an alternate exit. That was her number one rule. Always have an alternate exit. She learned that rule the hard way. She stopped for a moment, reliving that day, when a loud crunch brought her out of her flash back. She scanned the room once more and found a door that led to a small alley behind the warehouse that led to the center of London.

After finding an exit, she followed the pungent odor to a small room, filled with butcher's knives.

Adem kai sleparai adone janem thgare.

The Daraxi was muttering something in Darakesh, its native tongue. Literally, tongue. The grotesque thing could switch tongues, using either its original tongue or one from its previous victims, switching languages every time it switched tongues. Clara shuddered.

She could hear footsteps behind her, advancing closer and closer to her. One, two, three.She turned around to come face to face with the Daraxi. She sliced Arix through the air, cutting its hand off, and delivered a kick the back of its knees, causing it to fall to the hard floor with a thud, and stabbed it in the head, killing it. She sighed as she made her way out of the warehouse after searching it for more of the things.

All in a day's work. She thought as she walked through the alley, kicking the snow up as she skipped, and pocketed her blade as she slid it back into her boot. Clara heard snow crunch behind her and she stopped, whipping her head around. As she turned, she felt something hit her temple as she fell to the ground, onto the snow-covered concrete.