The next couple of floors were all the same; mauled bodies strewn around; walls painted in blood. Yet no enemies came in sight. On the next floor, the fifth floor, Ewan finally found two masked men. Their masks rested on their heads, and they puffed their cigarettes, sitting on the clean floor by the pillar-turned-beehive with bullets, their victims keeping them company. Their rifles were by their sides, and they chatted and cackled.
Ewan hid behind the wall near the stairs, peeking at these two and panning his eyes around to confirm whether they were the only ones here. The several pillars dividing this floor into areas hindered him though—they hid many sections.
A young female staff of the gaming arcade, in their usual frilled sky-blue sleeveless shirt and mini black skirt uniform, hid under an unused pool table in the corner across Ewan. She’d curled up, hugged her knees, and covered her mouth as she shivered. Concrete dust whitened her long black hair, and she smothered her cough from time to time. When Ewan saw her, she met his eyes too. She mouthed ‘help’ as her tears drenched her already sweaty and pale face, her mascara running down.
Ewan gestured her a ‘wait’ sign and racked his brain. No matter how much he thought about it, only one plan was feasible in this scenario. It was the most efficient plan he could think of. So, he carried it out.
Frost froze a red pebble from the blood around and hurled it towards the hiding woman. It clattered on the floor near her and echoed in the hall. She gasped, her face paled even more, and her eyes widened as she stared at Ewan. The noise alerted the two chatting masked men and drew them in.
Only two?
All the groups he met so far had three people…
One masked man walked out from the other side of a pillar, zipping his fly. They were three now.
“Another one?” the man asked while moving the belt of his trousers around.
“This one’s mine,” one of the smoking men said, grinning and biting the cigarette butt.
“Sure, if it’s a dude.” The other two cackled.
“Fuck off,” he said and crouched by the table. “Hey missy, come out. We won't hurt you.” He blew the smoke to the side and reached for her. The young woman screamed and backed off, but the wall behind blocked her. She rattled her head and pleaded in a mosquito voice.
Frost, take them out.
The timing was good, she’d grabbed their attention. Frost walked out from where they hid and bolted towards the men. By the time they reacted and turned around, they were already in his range. He waved his hand and ice spikes jerked out from the ground. The spikes sieved the three, mangling their bodies. They died with a grunt, their limbs and necks hung lifeless. Blood streamed down the ice spikes, turning them red. Soon the trickling blood drips froze and turned into long red crystals.
The woman screeched and crawled away from the scene. Ewan went to help her up, but she shrieked again and backed away from him.
“No!!” she yelled and bawled.
Ewan frowned and stood back. He didn’t understand what scared her so much. Was it his Astylinds? Was it him killing the men? Or was it because he used her as bait? Even if he did so, he still saved her life. That was the most efficient plan he could think of at that moment; the bait was necessary. He could take the three out with his spells, but it had higher risks and would shorten the precious activation period of his
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He shook his head and walked away. “Ungrateful bitch,” he muttered. He didn’t want to help her anymore. She would become a burden anyway.
That one act drained Frost of his Anima, so Ewan handed him a small white Anima-Crystal and searched the floor, leaving the woman alone. The blob of blood floated ahead of him; his mind ready to mold it if a threat emerged. Yet only the cold corpses greeted him again. Nothing new on this floor either. It was becoming rather monotonous, so he moved down to the next floor.
…..
Six muzzles belched fireballs as the bombardment of bullets rained down on Ewan’s shield. Sparks crackled all around him, the shield held itself against the attack. The bright display of fire from the six men shooting in a crescent moon formation made for a dazzling and beautiful scene, but Ewan couldn’t appreciate it, being on the receiving end. He didn’t even have the time to check out the floor before these six spotted him coming down the stairs and opened fire. Unlike the first three he met, these six alternated. One fired while the other reloaded, the salvo never stopped. How many fucking bullets did they lug anyway?
Ewan didn’t wait for their ammo to run out; it was too risky. He commanded Frost while preparing his blood blob to finish them off. He couldn’t see his targets from behind the tower shield, so he had to take a roundabout route.
Frost, also hiding behind the shield, touched the ground with pools of blood all around. After a moment, he pushed all his Anima into the spell and chilled the floor. And the blood red pools froze. The ice sprinted from Frost’s hand and fanned out in a circle, cracking and popping. Ewan shivered from the drop in temperature, his heaves steamed.
“What the fuck!!”
“Shit!”
The men yelled and cursed and stopped firing. They twisted and snapped their frozen shoes from the ground and backed off. But they all lost their footing on the slippery surface. Some fired while they thumped on their asses, creating a trail of bullet holes up to the ceiling.
While they groaned and writhed on the floor, Ewan sent several pointy thin vines from his blood blob up to the ceiling and had them zip down at random. The vines plunged, and deathly grunts of men followed. Ewan peeked at the small bamboo forest of red vines ahead and checked if they were all dead. Two were still alive and wriggling, so he controlled a couple of vines and stabbed them again. Since he could see them, his target was spot on, and the floor fell silent. The remaining two also died.
The continuous firing left Ewan’s ears buzzing, his forearm ached, and his skin had reddened. He snapped his frozen boots off the ground and sat on the side leaning on the wall, massaging his temples and his arm.
Frost enjoyed the buffet of souls; one by one he stuffed them in his mouth. After he digested them all, he once again approached the boundary of the next level, Level-3. Ewan smiled when he sensed it.
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Status: Injured | Hypovolemia
Step-0 [2nd Awakening]
Name: Ewan Ayres
Species: Human
Vitality: 1.3
Spirit: 4.0
Anima: [Fire – 4.0 | Ice – 4.0 | Blood – 4.0]
Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [2nd Awakening]
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Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-1] [Grade-D]
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Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-2] [Grade-D]
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Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-1] [Grade-C]
Equipment: Common Clothes.
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.
Novas: 70
Sol: 25