2:15AM
The city was dead at this time of night. It was an unspoken rule not to go out once the moon appeared. One that everybody knew to follow. There were dangerous people out there. Dangerous things. Beasts. Untamed, unexplainable, and undoubtably supernatural beasts. The air hung thick and heavy. There were no cars out that evening; no dog walkers, no sign of human life. Streetlights struggled to illuminate the path forward, and the moonlight gathered in pools of molten silver, turning the black water into something magical.
The woman walks alone through the dark and dank streets, unaware of the danger. She must have only recenty arrived in the district. Her clothes were a striking contrast against the drab grey of the city. She was wearing aqua coloured jeans and a coral blouse, along with a sheer white waterfall cardigan. The clothes molded over her body like it wasn't really there; a second skin. Her skin was golden and her hair was a chocolate brown with shades of blonde running through.
She walked with a confidence like no other. Her hips swayed and her hair was blown back by a wind only she felt. The clacking of her pastel stilletos sounded dangerous, but she had the grace of an angel. She strutted down the road, bold and fearless. Her dimonté clutch was held between two fingers, as if it was a bother to hold. It swung back and forth like a pendulum, the backwards and forwards motion was mesmerising. She was attracting attention. She didn't know it, but they were there. Watching. As her spiked heel got caught in a crack on the pavement, her purse flew out of her hand and landed, her things spilling onto the ground. Cursing, she scrambled up and hurried to put everything in, and looked left and right before smoothing down her hair and deciding she wasn't seen. She continued walking cautiously.
Ahead, a dozen shadowy figures in a dark alley tracked her progress. She stalked past, back straight, chin up, and the wind picked up again. A whiff of her cherry scented hair floated into the air, and a pair of the thugs emitted a deep, predatory growl.
Heading to the white sand beach, the lady must have still thought she was alone. The gang spread out and closed in from the main road, surrounding the female. Their footsteps were silent on the concrete as if padded. They didn't make any sounds but they knew what they had to do, as if they had a telepathic link. They tightened formation and circled her, like birds of prey.
The woman looked up dispassionately as they showed in front of her. They leered and jeered at her, their flithy gaze raking over her body. They grinned at her, tensing their muscles as they geared up for the fear and struggle. But the woman continued to stare at them like she was browsing some vaguely interesting meals on a menu. She was not impressed.
"Can I do anything for you men this fine evening?" She said, her voice smooth and melodic, as if used to publicity.
The thugs wore black bandanna's and let out husky chuckles as they noted her fearlessness. Many victims knew the situation they were in before the men actually started, and she was not an exception to the rule.
They came nearer, and the woman raised an eyebrow, smirked, and moved the right leg back. She was now crouched in a fighting stance. Putting out a hand, she made a 'come and get me' gesture. The first man ran forward, and the lady drew her leg up and further back before swinging her leg round. There was a crunch as her platform made a connection with her attacker's cheekbone. He fell to the floor, holding his collapsed face. Two more males sprinted forward and the woman crouched low before springing up and kicking her legs out, one spiked heel jabbing a man in the eye, the other crushing his nose. They dropped like rocks and groaned, rolling in pain. By now they should have noticed her inhuman strength and durability, her cat-like grace. She blew past them and stood strong, defending her corner. Three came at her and she retaliated with a flurry of punches and kicks, at the the same time evading their attacks. Again they fell, yelping in pain. The anger built up inside her and she started to tremble; the men laughed, believing she was finally going to give up. But she didn't.
She ran up to a streetlight and grabbed on with both hands, swinging herself round. A sharp gust of wind whipped the sand around the woman and the post, momentarily blinding her pursuers. It was as if the woman had vanished. Her purse was flung down and her heels were still flying through the air. A large cat stood where the woman was, but not an ordinary cat, a big cat. A tiger, and it was massive. It's coat was dark and you could see the golden stripes and spots. The wildcat charged and the men were suddenly screaming in fear, but the feline gained on them, pouncing on each one and snapping bones with it's powerful jaws. The men were taken down and they looked in horror as they saw their leader trapped underneath the beast.
The last thing the man saw before he blacked out from blood loss, was the furious, dangerous glint in its eye.
The large slitted eye of the tiger.
YOU ARE READING
Surviving The Shift
LobisomemI tossed and turned all night. My night slip was stuck to my body and the bed sheets were wet. It felt horrible; like I was covered in sticky honey. I flung back the covers and sat on my beds edge, my body trembling as I held back my dinner that thr...
