Tayte stared wide-eyed at the twin werehyenas.

When she looked back down to Chris he was already pelting them with more bullets. The flurry of bullets only managed to hit one and afterwards, it happened again.

And with that, Chris drew back his gun as the werehyenas got a new ally.

The street leveled and the speed slowed a bit. Ayo decelerated and rode behind the three hungry, cackling werehyenas, proud and feeling invincible.

A spark of inspiration kindled in Tayte, prompting her to swing the shaft to her side, spinning Chris back to his initial position.

“Whoa! Careful!” He screamed.

“Stand up! I’m going to pull you back in.”

Chris asked no further questions and wrapped his other hand around the shaft. He slowly rose to his feet, now using the shield like a board.

Tayte watched Chris ski across the blacktop, smiling for a moment, as he looked back at her. She wondered how long it would take for him to notice that she wasn’t looking at him, but instead ogling at the sputtering shield. An intense leer harbouring a ravenous will. It wasn’t just her eyes, but the desire was noticeable on her mouth, too. Once again, she was in a fight against a maddening grin that wanted to play across her lips.

A werehyena lunged toward Chris from behind and clawed him.

It made a choked cry come out of Chris and he almost lost his footing as the werehyena rolled across the asphalt and recovered immediately. Chris hunched over, clenching his jaw, and screaming with his mouth closed. He pulled back and made a single leap, reentering the van.

The shield slid back and flipped onto a werehyena. Upon hit, the werehyena shook off the damage and produced another clone.

“They split with every hit they take?” Tayte said, analyzing the quadruple werehyenas.

Chris dropped and began to writhe. Deep claw marks were sprawled on his back, his blood shimmering under the ceiling light through the fissures on his sweatshirt.

While trying keep herself from looking back at the hyenas, Tayte put down the scythe and kneeled to Chris.

“Chris, you alive?” Ryder asked, swaying to the grooves.

“Unfortunately, yeah,” he answered.

“I don’t know how long I can get up with this speed. I’m running out of nitrous tanks here. Can’t you do something about the hyenas so that they don’t kill us before we reach my secret getaway spot?”

Chris groaned and pushed himself up. As soon as he turned around, he fell to his haunches. “Damn it,” he hissed. He pulled out his gun and aimed through the gap.

During so, Tayte looked over at Ayo slowed down and he started to weave slightly.

Chris fired.

A beast leapt in front of Ayo and caught the bullet. It plummeted, rolled back onto all fours, and then it split.

Chris threw his hands into the air. “Ah, come on!”

Still eyeing the beastly quintuplets and their master through the gap, Tayte noticed Ayo easing up—increasing the distance between them. She reached for Chris. “Can I see your gun for a moment?”

“What, you think you’re a better shot than me?”

“It’s possible!” Ryder shouted over the music.

Chris shook his head and right when he turned back to respond, Tayte snatched the firearm from him.

“Whoa, hey!”

“I just want to see…”

Tayte observed Ayo via the scope. His excellent handling had been downgraded. Not only was he slower, his steering seemed erratic. As the van took another swerve, the hyenas followed accordingly, but Ayo turned with poor timing, coming into close contact with the wall of a building.

A werehyena pounced toward the gap. Chris took Tayte’s wrists in his own, turning her aim to the monster, and projected a bullet into its snout. It made another clone before hitting the ground.

Chris retrieved his gun from Tayte, glowering at her. She paid no mind to it and returned her focus to the gap.

“Great, now we have six after us!” Chris gave out a scream of pain and reached for his wound, stopping himself midway.

“You have to keep shooting at the hyenas.” Tayte said.

“Are you crazy? You’re seeing what I’m seeing. Every time they get hit, they make another, and if I aim for Ayo then they—”

“I think that the more there are, the more difficult it is for him to control.”

Chris went straight-faced. An expression that had Tayte believe the idea made sense to him, but he had to doubt it anyway.

“How do you know that?” He asked.

“His driving is getting worse.”

Chris turned to the gap and looked through his scope. He lowered his gun and said, “We don’t know how many he can handle, though.”

“Let’s find out.”

“What if it’s in the thousands?”

“Do you have a better plan, Christopher?” Ryder butted in.

“Stay out of this!”

Tayte removed a shoe and hurled it through the opening. It connected with a hyena’s eye. A new clone spawned.

“If I don’t do it. You will, huh?” Chris said.

She turned to him smiling and nodded.

The exhausted young sharpshooter sighed, ejected the magazine from the gun, and pulled out a new one from his holster. He reloaded and raised his gun. “This is definitely going to kill us,” he said despondently.

Tayte put her trembling hand over his shoulder and said, “It wouldn’t be such a bad way to die now, would it?”

Something kept Chris from looking back into her manic eyes and he remained focused. He discharged at one of the seven werehyenas at random.

Eight now.

He got another successful hit.

Nine now.

He fired again.

Ten now.

Another shot.

One number away from a dozen.

Another bullet.

Now a dozen.

Chris stopped, shaking at the sight of a dozen werehyenas. A staccato of cackles rising from them. “Is this still a good idea?”

“Keep going.” Tayte said. “Like I said to you that night, ‘You can’t let the fear of death take control of your life.’”

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Well… wait!” Chris shot a look at her.

“Yes, I know that it was you who robbed our home. Now shoot.”

Chris’s lips pursed.“I’m sorry, I have a good reason for it. I didn’t mean to hurt anybody. I just—”

“Just shoot, Chris!”

“But, wait, you need to understand that—”

“For the love of Freddie Mercury’s beautiful, immortal soul just shoot!” Ryder shouted.

“Ah, screw it.”

Another song started playing. Ryder became ecstatic and hit another button on the dashboard. The van got even faster.

“Ya-hooooooooooo!” Ryder shouted.

Chris unleashed an onslaught of bullets with good precision. The number of werehyenas multiplied.

“Keep going,” Tayte ordered, ecstatic.

Chris switched for a new magazine and resumed spraying the horde with lead, letting out his best war cry.

Under the chaotic cacophony of laughing hyenas, Chris’s screaming, Ryder’s music, and burning engines; Tayte tittered.

Ryder made the final turn and they were now speeding through a clearing. “Almost there,” he announced. “ How are we doing—?” He looked at the side mirror and froze. “Holy shit!”

The terrifying sight excited Tayte.

The pack was an army at this point — just rows and rows of spotted werehyenas charging in unison, and Ayo was nowhere in sight. The green area started to look more like a dusty savanna. Some jumped upwards and never came back down and never came back down, possibly managing to clutch onto the top of the van.

Chris kept any from entering through the gap by blasting their faces, increasing the already overwhelming number of werehyenas.

Tayte checked both windows on either side. Dozens of werehyenas were now sandwiching the van.

She looked over at the windshield and a storm drain came into view.

“We’re here.” Ryder said.

###

Ayo, riding at a moderate speed, stared at the rears of a multitude of hyenas. He took in their mulchy stench as he piloted with motor skills that were no longer collaborating. His mind was cloudy and overexerting its multitasking capabilities.

His vision narrowed and everything became fuzzy. The hinds of the werehyenas running in front of him mashed together turning into a hazy blob. It stopped moving. I can’t run into that. I’ll crash. He thought.

He pressed on the down brake and squeezed the ones in front at once, all while his hands decided to steer to the left.

Shooting himself in the air.

Ayo glided through the winds, his mind clearing, making for a peaceful flight right before a devastating tumble on the greenery. His decorated sports bike flipped behind him. They had a near miss with each other and then skidded across the grass.

###

Chris’s gun clicked empty. He checked his holsters, his backup holsters, and his backup-backup holsters. No dice. He was all out.

Tayte watched her fighting partner tag himself out and fall onto his side, bringing his knees to his chest and hugging them, letting hopelessness take over. “Welp, I hope I get to see my uncle again,” he said.

An itch made Tayte’s eyes dart to the scythe on the floor. Its scintillating, devilish blade mesmerized her. She frowned. A frown of missed opportunity.

She turned back to Ryder and he drove headstrong toward the canal, then, a werehyena dropped onto the windshield.

Ryder panicked, losing control of the wheel, the van skewed to the left, and he hit the brakes. Chris flew face first into the side door and Tayte was shot out through the missing door space.

Like a amusement park ride gone wrong, Tayte zipped through a shower of werehyenas lunging after the van as it nosedived into the canal. She was hit all over, but it slowed down her fall. She tumbled mildly onto the ground. On her stomach she watched the remainder of werehyenas diving into the canal, most of them dissipating into dust.

Tayte rose, a bit too quickly, and gave out a scream. She probed her aching body from top to bottom. After concluding that nothing was broken she hobbled her way towards the canal. She peered down the concrete slopes leading to the wide canal, and the busted van was on its side, its wheels still rolling and surrounded by piles of dust.

She looked over at the large drainage tunnel at the end of the storm drain and wondered if the escape plan could still work out.

A crunch of dry grass came from behind.

Tayte spun back and Ayo’s battered frame dawdled up to her.

He held out his hand. “The Kamaitachi. Give it. Now.”

“I can’t. It’s in the van,” Tayte said, casually.

“That doesn’t matter. Forfeit it. Forfeit your ownership over the Kamaitachi and give it to me. It’s as easy as thinking and saying it.”

“Is your…” Tayte took a moment to think back, “Relic not enough to help you beat the Trials on your own?”

Ayo halted with his crooked body. “There’s a better chance of me beating Adisa with both Relics than you with just one, understand?”

“And what if I refuse to forfeit it?”

“I’ll kill you.”

The threat failed to unnerve Tayte. Her stolid demeanor remained as fixed as gum on hair.

“Oh, you think I’m joking,” Ayo said, fuming. “No. It’s not that. I see what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to throw me off. Domingos mentioned that you could be a spy or something.” He marched towards Tayte and balled a fist. “Mind games won’t work with me, dumbass. Let me show you what happens when someone tries to get into my head.”

Tayte stood still and goggled at the gloved fist thrusting into her vision. The world flashed black and she staggered backwards, everything around her distorting and becoming blurry. The sharp pain shot up her nose and spread through her forehead. She doubled over and looked at the ground waiting for her sight to stabilize, her sinuses feeling like they were going to burst, her breathing became more laborous, but her ears were working fine and she could hear Ayo’s angry ramblings.

“Oh, you think I wouldn’t hit you ‘cuz you’re some small girl?” Ayo jeered. “Please. I’ve done worse in this field of work. Now, forfeit the Relic. I can make things much worse for you.”

Tayte mumbled something under her breath.

“Huh? Speak up, I can’t hear you,” Ayo said. “Or are you just crying?”

Tayte straightened herself quickly and said, “Hit me again.”

Ayo stiffened all over, staring back without saying a word.

“Hit me again,” she repeated.

Ayo raised his fist, looked down on it, and chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s not going to work on me.” He swung a swift right hook at Tayte.

She staggered to the side and then regained her balance.

Ayo moved over to her and froze once he was met with a sanguine smile.

“Hit me again.”

“This plan of yours isn’t going to work—”

“Do it!” Tayte demanded.

“Okay, then!” Ayo launched a quick succession of blows to her face.

Tayte stumbled backwards, but managed to stay on her feet. As she weaved from side-to-side her smile lengthened, pushing her swollen cheeks into her eyes that were welling up and reddening; becoming almost the same color as the blood that trickled out of her contorted nose. Her disheveled hair dangled in front of her face.

Ayo dropped his bloody fists and undid his fighting stance. He slowly walked back, eyeing Tayte as she swayed and giggled as if she were in a drugged stupor. “What the hell are you?” he had to ask.

With a look of ecstasy, she leered at him and said, “A mortician apprentice.”

“That’s it...” Ayo said, fed up. He produced a handgun and pointed it at Tayte. “Stop messing around or you’ll get shot.”

Tayte didn’t respond and continued to sway and hum to imaginary music.

“Dammit! Don’t make me kill you. I need your Relic.”

Tayte halted, freezing in a strange tilted position, like a piece of art. “Oh, is my relic really that special? I wish I had the chance to try it out,” Tayte said. “The Kamaitachi.”

She jerked back and the gray light circled on her chest. “Oh, yes!” She exclaimed. With a gust of wind, the scythe lurched out of the light. Tayte caught the weapon and her face lit up. She brushed her cheek up and down against the shaft, making pleasurable coos, and ignoring Ayo.

“Forfeit the Relic. Final warning.”

Tayte tightened her grip on the scythe and pointed it at Ayo.

Ayo let out a snicker. “You’re going to cut your head off with that thing.”

Tayte turned the scythe horizontally and held it in one hand. She placed the other on top with an open palm and spun the scythe clockwise.

Ayo was entranced by the sight, seeing her spin the scythe in one hand at a time, switching between them masterfully. At one point it didn’t even look like the shaft was in either of her hands. Just a staff spinning wildly in front of her as her hands did a dance.

She caught it by the middle with both hands, sucked in a large breath, and then let out a loud exhale. “Like riding a bike.”

By the time Ayo remembered he had a gun in his hand Tayte had already moved on to a new kind of spin. She was performing two-handed spins, alternating between left and right. She twirled forward without losing momentum of the technique, a gale of wind collected by her feet and the spiral heel of the blade turned.

Ayo’s gun flew out of his hand, his jacket flapping behind him, he crouched to dig his fingertips into the ground to maintain. But it was no use.

“Kazakama-hakai!” Tayte cited madly and swung her scythe downward, hurling a wind sickle at Ayo. It lacerated him clean in the chest, but she wasn’t done. Taking another step forward, Tayte swung the weapon upwards, launching another sickle-shaped air current that cut through the side of his visor. Ayo staggered back with every hit he took and Tayte’s mad laughter grew louder as she went after him, swinging the scythe rapidly, sending a barrage of windy slashes that tore through his clothes and skin from his forehead all the way down to his ankles.

With one final swing, the sideways wind sickle hauled Ayo many feet away. He flipped over and crashed onto the ground.

Tayte, ecstatic and dazy, peered at her opponent’s motionless, slashed body from afar and then back at the enchanted blade of her now beloved scythe.

Her face turned gray, her eyelids became heavy, and her expression twisted in confusion. She stopped to mouth the words she had just cited and her confusion grew. She let go of the scythe and stepped back with her hands raised. Once her hands started to tremble, she crossed her arms, shoving her hands under them.

She cursed under her breath.