Shadow Cat
The Oncoming Storm
The sun had reached a peak in the sky by the time the man broke through the wood line, stumbling as he found himself in a clearing filled with various flowers and knee-high weeds. Sweat streamed heavily down his forehead and neck, especially under the thick fabric of his black hood, but it was of no consequence at the moment. Preserving his identity was much more important. So was escaping. Speaking of which...
He loosened his stance as he rooted his feet to the ground, shutting his eyes and letting the silence of the open wilderness wash over him. There. Footsteps crashed through the brush less than half a mile east, at least eight people in the group. He could feel the weight of their step as they ran toward him, thudding and reverberating in the brush at their feet with no regard for the world around them. God, they were fast. And they were coming.
His eyes snapped open and he kicked the vines that had begun to snake around his legs away, taking off once again, this time heading South. He cut a line across the clearing, looking back briefly to make sure they hadn't gotten too close.
Fuck.
He crashed into something in front of him headfirst and fell backward, stunned for a moment. What the...? He looked up, stomach sinking at the large, black-clad figure in front of him standing menacing and sinister, blotting out the sun behind him. It felt as though the entire forest hushed at the presence, even the sun shrinking under the weight of it's gaze.
The man watched as the figure reached out a single hand, black tendrils soaking into the air, staining the atmosphere around it.
It's time.
The man on the ground slammed both hands on the ground, eyes lighting up a startling electric blue as jolts of the same color zipped down his arms, onto his hands, rippling over the ground in every direction before seemingly homing in on something and all veering the same way. As they continued to ripple off of him, he programmed a single thought into them, repeating it over and over in his head, willing it to take form and seek out its recipients.
Time to repay that favor.
He loosened his stance as he rooted his feet to the ground, shutting his eyes and letting the silence of the open wilderness wash over him. There. Footsteps crashed through the brush less than half a mile east, at least eight people in the group. He could feel the weight of their step as they ran toward him, thudding and reverberating in the brush at their feet with no regard for the world around them. God, they were fast. And they were coming.
His eyes snapped open and he kicked the vines that had begun to snake around his legs away, taking off once again, this time heading South. He cut a line across the clearing, looking back briefly to make sure they hadn't gotten too close.
Fuck.
He crashed into something in front of him headfirst and fell backward, stunned for a moment. What the...? He looked up, stomach sinking at the large, black-clad figure in front of him standing menacing and sinister, blotting out the sun behind him. It felt as though the entire forest hushed at the presence, even the sun shrinking under the weight of it's gaze.
The man watched as the figure reached out a single hand, black tendrils soaking into the air, staining the atmosphere around it.
It's time.
The man on the ground slammed both hands on the ground, eyes lighting up a startling electric blue as jolts of the same color zipped down his arms, onto his hands, rippling over the ground in every direction before seemingly homing in on something and all veering the same way. As they continued to ripple off of him, he programmed a single thought into them, repeating it over and over in his head, willing it to take form and seek out its recipients.
Time to repay that favor.
