Max flung the door open and stepped through it. His weapon was already leveled at the face of the warlock, mostly obscured by Alex between them. Max already knew the position of each figure in the room, knew exactly what angle he wanted, and he squeezed the trigger without hesitation.
The bullet took the warlock above the eyes, snapping his head back. The withered hands clutching at the boy jerked spasmodically, then relaxed as the body fell away. As it hit the floor the body erupted into a puff of dust that scattered across the floor.
He used magic to stay alive long past the time when that body would have died of age, Max thought. He glanced at the vacant expression on the young man still sitting on the floor. Until he could find a suitable replacement.
The young man blinked rapidly, seeming to return to himself. He looked around and started to rise, freezing in place when Max thrust his pistol close to his face.
“I don’t want to hurt you, kid. But I will.” He gestured down with the pistol. “Sit.”
As the young man subsided back to the floor, Max turned to the woman. She had produced a piece of cloth from somewhere and was rapidly winding it around the medallion while chanting something too low for Max to hear.
Ah, shit. He brought up the weapon again, turning towards her. She had a triumphant look on her face as the chain flew away from her. Too late.
As the pistol came up, the woman blurred forward, both hands outstretched. Max stepped back with her movement, avoiding the powerful shove that would have sent him sprawling. She had come underneath the gun in his right hand, but he brought his left around in a hook at her temple.
She dropped her weight even further, and Max’s fist whooshed harmlessly over her head. She grabbed his belt with one hand, swinging her legs up at his chest, and kicking off with both feet. He flew backwards, slamming into the wall with force enough to crack the plaster from floor to ceiling.
The woman was sent flying in the opposite direction. She rolled through her shoulder back to her feet. The benefit of centuries of experience, Max thought as he forced pull air back into his lungs. And blood magic. She lowered herself to spring forward again, but Max raised his hand towards her.
Despite the violence of her kick, he hadn’t let go of the pistol, and had locked his aim on even before he'd straightened from the cracked wall. I just shoot and that's it. The girl dies, and so does the thing inside her. They stared at each other for the span of a breath which neither took.
Rapid footsteps from the stairs startled them both. The young woman leapt backwards, curling her limbs in front of her, as she went straight through the closed window in a shower of glass.
“I got the two that came outside,” Lance said as he entered, panting slightly. He paused, glancing at his phone. “But that girl is ridiculous. She moves as fast as you do, and seems to know I had guys around, because we couldn't get a clear shot.”
Max took a deep breath, steadying himself. “I’ll get her. Can you take care of the kid?”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“Yeah. And I'm putting out that small fire downstairs. You’re welcome.”
Max grinned ruefully. I'd forgotten the broken oil lamp. “Yeah, thanks.” Then he was through the broken window, into the darkness outside.
----------------------------------------
Lance watched his partner disappear into the night and repressed a sigh. I have a bad feeling about this. Boss told me to stick close to him. He shook his head, pushing aside the feeling that trouble wasn't over for the evening.
He glanced at the young man, who still seemed cowed from the exchange between Max and the woman. Then he pulled out his phone, opening a conversation that had only messages from his own account in it. He typed out “#3 stay w Max”. A moment later another message popped in, also from Lance, which read “Yeah right. I'll try.”
He glanced at the young man as the latter scraped his shoe on the wooden floor, moving as if to rise. Lance scratched his beard as his scrutiny stopped the boy again. I guess we stopped the possession, but that doesn't mean this guy is 100% not a warlock.
The young man's eyes were fixed on Lance's hand as he reached into his jacket to pull out another talisman. “You wanted to see some magic,” Lance said, trying to seem friendly. “And you're going to get to.”
The young man's expression tightened in renewed fear. “Who are you? What the fuck is going on?” he demanded.
“Better to explain after, I think. Just relax,” Lance said, gently tapping the talisman against the other's chest. The paper stuck instantly, and the Alex's body tensed and then slumped back to the floorboards. Lance lifted one of the young man's arms a few inches and then dropped it, satisfied with the light thud as it hit the floor.
Placing the first three fingers of his left hand on the paper talisman, Lance raised his other hand before his face, palm to the left, and intoned a short phrase. He concentrated on the formula inscribed on the paper, picturing each symbol in his mind and the effect it would have in the world. In seconds the young man’s shoulders dropped as his body relaxed fully.
Lance reached into the satchel at his hip and drew out a ceramic disc, inscribed with a five-pointed star surrounded by a circle. Within each point were the symbols of the five Chinese elements. Around the circle were four of the eight trigrams, and between the points of the star were traditional Chinese characters containing the instructions for an exorcism. He scrutinized it carefully for a moment, since the formula was untested. Then he shrugged. “At least,” he said, with what he hoped was a reassuring smile, “it shouldn't hurt you.”
He laid the disc on the young man’s chest, just below the paper talisman, and then rose to his feet with a piece of chalk in his hand. Then he began to chant softly, walking around the boy to mark a circle on the floor. He stopped to check his work, guessing it was about 7 feet in diameter and almost perfectly round. At various points he quickly drew symbols similar to those on the disc resting in the center, adding the four elemental watchtowers at the correct points of the compass. I'm still not sure about this design. Exorcism is pretty far from a sure thing the hundredth time you've done it. Probably shouldn't mention this is my first.
Completing the design took almost fifteen minutes, and he had to concentrate to ignore the smell of blood and smoke still drifting up from the floor below. Lance looked over his homemade combination of psuedo-Confucian spellcraft and Western Alchemy, and had a burst of confidence.
The young man’s fingers twitched and his jaw slowly worked, but he was unable to speak in the grip of Lance's paralysis talisman. “Well,” Lance said in an appreciative tone, “you must have some talent. Most people would have trouble blinking. And you were holding out against a pretty powerful warlock there, at least for a moment. If it had just been this dust bag, you might have even gotten away. The old ones don't move very fast.” The boy’s head raised a bit off the floor, and Lance gently pushed it back down with a finger. “But if we hadn't showed up, you would've stopped being you in a minute or so.”
Lance clapped his hands together, fingertips up, then spread them and slapped his palms down onto the edge of the chalk circle. A shock like thunder, without sound, burst the dust up and outward from the floorboards, and then all was still.