His heightened speed was a very handy ability. It was the one Elmer was most grateful for out of the few he had, if he was asked to mention. And it had assisted in completing his mysterious appearance in the eyes of Lev, like it had now helped him to travel all the way to Berk Way on foot via short bursts restricted to twenty feet.
He couldn’t deny though, because of the ability’s limitations of only being able to advance him for a very short span per its use, he was now almost completely worn-out. Physically and spiritually.
Elmer guessed that the distance from the Northeast Borough to the Foreign District was no less than three hundred and fifty meters, approximately 0.35 kilometers. This notion he based on the data he’d collected while having counted his steps to acquire a little over a thousand and hundred feet. And because of that, he could understand the exhaustion he felt.
But—understandable or not—he was still a human who craved rest. He wanted to take a break. He only wished that was possible.
Although, all that he quickly shoved behind himself as soon as he cropped up before a small bungalow encircled by a white picket fence. An uncannily silent landmark standing privately on its own in the midst of shrubbery and mature trees, unlike the rest of the closely packed buildings he had seen while navigating toward his current location.
Elmer glanced at the small wooden board which had the structure of a house engraved on it with the number ‘14’ implanted in its center, and huffed out an exhale.
Here we are…
There was a sort of unnerving tension that kept creeping upon him; one he couldn’t shake off. Though, he quickly comprehended the reason for that.
Hanky was not like Lev; he’d realized that since the first day they’d met. Exhausted or not, he had to be prepared to encounter danger—most especially with the way he was dressed.
And with that thought solidly fixed in his head, along with a well steeled resolution backed up by a sigh, Elmer ventured into the vicinity of House 14, one cautious step after another, the hem of his ragged trench coat swaying dramatically behind him.
###
As expected of winter’s night; the further into it a person went, the colder and the more sinister the howls of its winds were. It was now even to the point that it threatened to freeze the approaching man in all black right where he was walking on the gravel path which led to Hanky’s porch. But Elmer had experienced far worse nights already; heck, even his nightmares was of a more heart wrenching scenery than this.
His mind constantly trying to discern any possible dangers was not because he feared his capabilities to effectively handle one unscathed, but because he disliked being caught off guard. And it was due to this train of thought that he’d decided not to sneak into Hanky’s home, but instead, like a gentleman, walk in through the front door.
If I can get them to offer me café au lait and listen to my words, it’ll be even better. Hmm… It’s probably tea they would offer instead. I doubt anyone who didn’t own a mansion would have such a kind of coffee sitting at home. It seemed quite expensive, after all. Maybe I should have requested its cost from Polly that day.
Elmer was on the porch now, his arm outstretched toward the front door’s knob. And he had almost been on the verge of smiling beneath his pale mask with the words his mind had conjured. But all of a sudden that became impossible.
His senses had been abruptly triggered.
Instinctively, he backed one step away, and at the same time, with tensed muscles and a rapid pulse, he activated his heightened hearing.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
A couple of subdued, deep breathing that occasionally caught briefly immediately whirled into his ears. Discerning their number, it came from four people. Two very close to him, and the other two equally shared some ways down to the left and right.
His gut was right. He would not be getting served either coffee or tea as a respectable guest tonight.
Understanding the situation, Elmer deactivated his heightened hearing before it could plunge him into sleep, and acted like a rabbit. He pounced backwards, throwing himself from the porch and a few steps away from the whole frame of the bungalow in one swift move.
And because of that singular act of instinct, his bowels had been kept intact.
Down on one knee while steadying himself with his right hand, Elmer gazed at the door he had been at before with a clean diagonal cut across it. There was only a moment more before it came crumbling down in its totality.
Blimey. That would have been my midriff…
The sheer sharpness of whatever had delivered such a cut left Elmer dumbfounded that it was almost laughable. And as he straightened up from the crouch he had been in, so did his inquisitiveness for what had administered such a preemptive and precise strike rise.
“Who are you?”
As though obliged to put Elmer’s curiosity to bed, the one who had delivered the strike began to make their grand appearance.
First had come their feminine voice bearing a question of interest in who Elmer was, then their silhouette blanketed in the darkness of Hanky’s bungalow, and finally, in the silvery grace of the moonlit night, their well-crafted lithe figure.
Garbed in a flowing white petticoat that even covered her feet, the young woman who had appeared onto the porch reminded Elmer of the weeping curse he had defeated for Lev. Only difference between them both was that this woman was not a curse, for one, was fair—not snow-like white—had a look of indifference—like his weird outfit didn’t bother her one bit—and her hair was a cascading beauty of black that fell over her shoulders.
It was obvious who she was. He recalled who she was.
Hanky’s wife…
Elmer let his eyes wander to the slender, single-edged sword that was held in her right hand. It looked light but deadly. Small but ferocious. Graceful but hateful. It was beauty made steel.
And the one who held it had the gait of a sword master—a sword lady.
He scoffed discreetly next.
“Is that any way to welcome a guest?” Elmer began, his voice already altered into that which was befitting of his alias ‘the Reaper’.
“You were uninvited. Did no one teach you manners?” the sword lady replied.
“That is a hurtful question to ask. But I won’t fret you on it. So, if you will, let me pose mine instead. What are you—? No…”
He shifted his eyes to the sword lady’s left, and there stood, almost unnoticeably, one half of the Ted and Ned twins.
Elmer was not sure which of them both was beside their mother, and which was peeking at him from the window to the left of the bungalow. And as such he did not dwell on it too much. But instead turned his gaze toward the last of the four cooped up at the right of the bungalow, window raised, and a threatening shotgun in hand. Aimed at him, no doubt. That person was the man of the house.
“…What are all of you?”
“You needn’t worry about that,” Hanky boomed, his rough pitched voice familiarizing itself with Elmer’s ears once more. “You’ll be dead soon enough.”
Elmer tilted his head softly. “Dead, huh?” Then he nodded. “Understandable that you would say that. I trespassed after all. And my appearance isn’t quite helping either. But is it right to judge someone’s strength so quickly?”
“We’ve never misjudged,” It was Hanky’s wife who had answered. Elmer shrugged in response.
He had no battle plan to fight them; furthermore, he was exhausted quite considerably. But for some reason, his chest felt extremely light. His breaths were easy. And his muscles were relaxed.
He knew what it was. It was confidence.
His unique ability was one that didn’t need any battle plan to be effective. With it, he could create a decisive battle plan on the spot with the result of already transpired events. It was the ultimate card to have. And he had found a way to bypass its limitation.
This is good, I guess.
“Then…” Elmer said as he brought out a piece of pen and paper from his right pocket, causing Hanky and his family to frown in unison. “Shall I find out how good your instincts are?”