Angela Victor ran as fast as she could. She could hear them behind her. They'd been hunting her down for weeks, but she always managed to get away from them. Tonight, she was sure, her luck was running out.
Skidding past an opened gate, Angela cursed inwardly. If the calvary didn't arrive soon (with a capital S) she's be toast--Literally. The two goons were throwing flame after flame of fire at her, and she dodged them. Most missed, but one or two came dangerously close for comfort.
Panting, Angela found herself looking at a dead end. The two goons were right behind her. 'Not so arrogant now, mutant?' one of them taunted. Angela rolled her eyes. Puh-lease. She swung around and gave them a sugar-coated smirk. 'Well, aren't you just the bright observer now, mutant?' she shot back, using the goon's words again him. He turned red.
'What the hell are you talking about?' he demanded. His partner grabbed his arm. 'Shut up, Kaiver. You heard Argo. The girl's messing with your head. We need her alive,' he added urgently for Kaiver's benefit.
Kaiver shook his partner's arm away. 'You shut up, Oran. If she's messing with my head I'll mess with hers.'
Oran shrugged, washing his hands of Kaiver. 'Your funeral, mate. If Carnac finds out you're dead.'
'I don't fear Carnac,' Kaiver said, scoffing. 'I fear no one.'
'Except Christophe,' Oran interjected quietly. 'Everyone fears him.'
'Not me,' Kaiver continued to brag. 'I am Kaiver, the Great, the Strong, the Champion.....'
'You forgot: the Idiot,' said a male voice. Ari Summers stepped forward into the light. He'd been monitering the whole exchange for the past five minutes, and he quickly got bored at the two goons--Kaiver and Oran, was it?--have been bickering at each other.
As he looked around, he caught the eye of the girl--their innocent. She had been watching the whole exchange quite amusedly, and now she was looking at Ari with bemusement. He smiled at her. She blinked.
'Who are you?' Kaiver bellowed, taking charge. Ari sighed. 'The ghost of Christmas Past,' he intoned in a deep voice. Oran chuckled. 'I'm gonna enjoy this one,' he muttered to his partner before turning his eyes on Ari. 'The ghost of Christmas Past, huh? Why not Christmas Future?'
'Because,' Ari lifted his hand. Focusing, he formed a tesla coil that nestled in his palm, the strands of electricity jumping from one finger to another. He grinned as he continued his sentence. 'You don't have a future.' He shot a bolt of electric current at the one called Kaiver. He went down like a bag of bricks.
Oran, obviously the smart one here and no idiot himself, started to conjure fire balls. Quick as a flash he threw them at Ari, who either dodged them or zapped them with his own electricity. He tried to get an opening, but Oran was smart. He threw even more balls of fire, and ari easily sidestepped them, waiting for him to tire.
At last he saw an oppotunity. Oran was weakening. Generating another tesla coil, Ari shot it at the goon. It hit him in the chest, rendering him unconscious, but Oran somehow managed to let loose a hail of fire balls, and they were now raining on top of Ari.
'Watch out!' cried a female voice. Angela was grim. Focusing hard, she held up her hand, and ice started to form a protective shield over Ari, shielding him from the fireballs, which extinguished the moment they hit the ice. Dusting himself, Ari took a look at the half spherical shield, to Angela, and back to the shield again. He flashed a grin. 'Well, at least we now know what category you fall into.'
'What's that?' Angela asked curiously. She was prepared for "Icegirl" or something like that. But what Ari said next completely took her breath away.
'The Quick-Thinking Category.'
Ok this one's for Angela, the artist of 3 Dahlia. We'll be putting Uncle Dick in soon.