“Hey, people, maybe we should mov…” Isaac turned around but found Aster had moved up close to him without him noticing. She shoved him hard with both hands. There was a surprising amount of strength in her arms. Isaac teetered backwards off-balance and stumbled into Ronan. Something hard cracked against the back of his head. Ronan grunted. Isaac’s eyes flashed white and stars blinked on and off against his retina like LED lamps in a computer.
Aster erupted in an explosion of feathers that shot out like arrows in all directions. Grunts and screams echoed. Isaac saw the four-armed guy across from him bellow as he clutched his eye, a feather sticking out between his fingers. Among Isaac’s periphery his brain registered streaks of red. Isaac knew that meant something important but his brain struggled to keep up and failed to provide him the exact details.
A large boulder burst out from left field and hit the ground with what could only be described as a splash of dirt as it poured out from the impact like liquified. But the girl was not there to be crushed by it, she was high up in the air, defying physics by refusing to come down. The boulder continued on its trajectory for several meters before coming to a stop, leaving behind a deep groove in the earth. The four armed guy let out a roar of his own and large spikes of metal just grew out from the very skin of his palms. Isaac’s stomach made some tumbles, but the four armed guy seemed unconcerned with common courtesy for public displays of bodily functions and simply snapped the spikes off. He hefted one spike in each hand, drew back and threw.
Isaac groaned. Fourarms must’ve not gotten the memo on birds and their more common behaviors because he threw his spikes aimed at the last known birdgirl location, which was also coincidentally aimed right at Isaac. Isaac tried to scoot lower but didn’t get far as his body refused to commit to any amount of strenuous labour at this current point in time. Isaac winced for impact but as he did so the spikes hit something in the air and fell down, skewering ground instead of detective. Ronan shouted out something in a foreign language. Isaac could not see what the spikes had hit, as far as he could determine there’d been nothing there at all, just air.
A second volley of feathered arrows shot down from above, more concentrated, and a second wave of groans and meaty thuds followed, though not nearly as many as before. The four armed guy became a minced meat version of a porcupine. Isaac closed his eyes. What is she putting in those feathers? He thought. They just went right through people like needles. Ronan cursed, or at least it sounded something like a curse, Isaac couldn’t tell for sure.
Isaac looked up but regretted doing so as he saw still more feathers raining down towards him. Isaac had always thought it would be better to die without realizing beforehand, he had never enjoyed the thought of facing the abyss head on. Maybe that was why he’d failed to kill himself. The thought came unbidden and Isaac chased it away by reflex. What did it matter, he would die in this strange place anyways. He would never see Finn again. Isaac had failed his brother, their parents and, perhaps most of all, he had failed himself.
Isaac looked on and felt his ability to care slip away, but the feathered arrows froze yet again. They hit nothing in their path but stopped nonetheless. The feathers lost all their momentum at the same time, then slowly spiraled down in a sort of whimsical dance before they picked up speed again. Isaac cried out and brought his arm up. Searing hot pain laced through his body from his arm. The dull thump of arrows hitting dirt sounded all around him. Isaac grunted and brought his arm down. Three feathers stuck out from his forearm, blood dribbled from his sleeve.
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Isaac hefted one feather in his hand, sucked in some air, bit down on his teeth, and drew the feather out with a sudden motion. The feather felt heavy in his hand. The girl dropped down from her bombing run behind what remained of fourarms. Growing curious, Isaac thumbed at the tip to brush his blood away. Something silver glimmered between the specks of blood.
His arm forgotten, Isaac brought the tip to his mouth and drew the blood away with his lips. He held it up again against the dimming sky and the metal tip gleamed in the fading light. That strange feathered girl could somehow grow metal tipped feathers out of her body on command, in seconds, and throw them at people like darts.
Aster spoke, “having fun?” Her voice was sharp and rough, drenched in glee.
“You will die, Aster!” Ronan said. Ronan clenched his fist, but still held his other stretched out, palm spread, his silver key hanging from the thick strings tightly wound around his hand. He stood balanced, as if about to take off in every direction at a moments notice. A feather stuck out from his shoulder but he ignored it.
Isaac looked around. Only half of the people in the circle surrounding them were still standing. When had that happened? The girl had fought them all alone, and won, not only that but it had barely been a contest, it had been just one step away from a slaughter.
Aster faced Ronan, looking him over with discerning eyes. “Tell the bitch I will have the keys, I just need more time,” she said. Isaac looked to Ronan. He stood poised for action, he reminded Isaac of a cornered animal, it seemed Aster had the upper hand. If that was so, why didn’t she go ahead and kill him?
“No time!” Ronan shouted, his face rigid and impassive, but a slight scowl and the red color to his skin betrayed him. “No more time! No more nothing!” Ronan's voice rose in volume and distortion until he was screaming. “You give us keys, NOW!”
Aster ignored him. She turned to Isaac. “Thanks for your help, newcomer.”
“My name is Isaac.” He cringed inside even before he said it. She had startled him. That was all there was to it.
Aster chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t care.”
A shockwave burst from underneath her feet and she flew high up in the air and landed atop a pillar farther away from the harangued group. “Give the bitch my love, and don’t follow Ronan, or I will pick your crew off one by one while you’re not there to stop me.” She smiled, batted her eyes a few times and jumped onto the next tall rubble within her reach.
Isaac felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. He called out to Aster. “Hey! Wait! Hold on a second!” He didn’t really know whether it was the right move, just about next to nothing made any sliver of sense in this godforsaken place. But something in his intuition told him this was the right choice.
Aster hesitated for a brief moment. Isaac saw his chance and took it. “Hey! You can’t leave me here with these guys. I mean look at them!” He waved, indicating Ronan and his gang. He adopted an empathetic tone. “Listen, I’m new here, I haven’t got the faintest clue what is going on! Help me.” His forehead wrinkled and he looked up at her with pleading eyes. “I helped you, remember?” Isaac’s voice died down as a frightening expression fell over Asters face. She looked at him as if he was a pile of manure she’d stepped on by accident.
Isaac found it hard to face her stare. Was he really pleading with a murderer for help? How had he thought this would work? “Alright,” she said, “I’ll help you. I’ll teach you your first lesson.” She turned her back on him. “Welcome to the Endpoint, Isaac.” She jumped, once, twice, three times from the column to a garbage heap to a building. Then she ducked down, jumped over an edge and vanished.