Prompt 8 - The Small World We Share

Antony finally meets the man that slayed his entire family. He is filled with a desire for revenge.

“Crazy, isn’t it?” Antony, a seventeen year old male said, rage filling his voice, “That we...would meet again like this.” He smoothed back the loose strands of his short blonde ponytail, and his lake blue eyes glanced at his belt. From a conical pouch, his hand slipped out a long, wooden stake coated in silver scrolls.

“Hmph...what a pathetically small world we share.” His opponent scoffed. He flicked his head back to throw strands of hickory hair from his face. He stood straight, almost arrogantly, in his grey vest and pristine white poet shirt. Oh...what a joy it would be to stain that perfect shirt with red…. His lower half was a blur of grey, from pants to shoes to multitude of belts. Very similar to Antony’s slayer uniform, colored in pure black as to blend with the night, making hunting prey much easier. “I suppose you haven’t forgiven my annihilation of your family.” His voice was deep, smooth. His blood red eyes pierced souls, but not Antony’s, no. He was far stronger than that.

“You b*****d…” He clenched his teeth, “Mordecai...isn’t it? That’s what the others told me. The Binge-Eater.”

“Binge-Eater?” Mordecai emitted a sort of laugh, “I suppose I’d fancy “Binge-Killer”. I much prefer the pleasure of blood dripping down my fingertips than my fangs.”

“Good.” Antony breathed with venom, “Then you can die getting off to being coated in your own.”

“Doesn’t sound particularly fascinating,” Mordecai withdrew his claws, “but we shall see.”

With a crazed glint in his eye, Antony lunged for his opponent, taking erratic, but calculated, swings. Mordecai dodged and parried with ease, unlike the slayer heaving and drenched in sweat. Tired of Antony's futile swipes, Mordecai spun on his heels, ducking down and thrusting his foot into Antony’s stomach, sending him flying back. Antony slammed into a wall with a sickening crack. Stumbling out of it, he took a moment to realign his bones, then began a violent coughing. His hand moved to catch the blood spewing from his mouth, then he glared into the devilish eyes of his enemy. They held a hint of amusement in them, and he was cracking a slight smile at his accomplishment. Typical, disgusting vampire.

“Come now, what good will killing me do? It won’t bring your family back.” Mordecai taunted for his entertainment, “Perhaps you’d be better off joining them in the afterlife of Hell they’ve submitted themselves to.”

Antony coughed once more, clutching his stomach, “My family...they were all good people!” He ran forwards, stake raised above him, “It’s you that will be sent to Hell!”

“What a pitifully self-righteous attitude.” Mordecai muttered, taking a step back, “Such a...typical human.” He slid to the left and missed Antony’s stake by a centimeter. Antony expected this and used the weight he threw forward to bring up his left heel to the vampire’s face. However, he was too slow, and Mordecai was able halt his leg and seize hold of his ankle. Antony was lifted into the air, then harshly thrown in the ground. Despite the hole he was lying in, Antony stood back up and went for a low blow. Mordecai dodged and kneed him in his stomach, causing Antony to curl up into a miserable ball of pain. He then kicked the slayer a few yards and punched him three times to make sure he could no longer fight back. Antony lay still within a pool of his own blood. Finally, the vampire grabbed a firm hold of the slayer’s throat and held his broken body before him. “Goodbye, human.” He reared his free arm back and extended his claws.

SLICE

Antony dropped to the grass as Mordecai’s arm flew behind him, a pair of custom-made sickles reflecting the moonlight into his eyes. Honey orbs met those red as a blood moon, and the vampire growled as he leapt back to retrieve his arm, then disappeared into the night. A beautiful young girl, the age of sixteen, placed her sickles back in their cases. She was adorned in a midriff top and pants that revealed much of her thighs, which she was slightly uncomfortable with, but it was for him anyways. “Thank you, Jeneva.”

Jeneva shook her head, “I’m sorry...” She helped Antony to his feet, “I know you told me to stay back, that you wanted to take care of the vampire yourself, but I didn’t want you to get hurt anymore...”

“Nonsense, sweetheart,” He kissed her auburn hair blowing in a slight breeze, “You just saved my a*s. And that was quite an impressive move.”

She blushed slightly, “...But you were the one that weakened him for me.”

“But you were the one that dealt the finishing blow.” He threw his arm around her and gave her a slight squeeze.

“I...I didn’t want to kill your prey, but he’s gone now…. I guess I should have just done the job right…”

“Nah.” He kissed her lips that tasted of cherry chapstick, “I’ll find him again. We’re bound to meet once more in this satisfyingly small world we share.” Seeing that repulsively white shirt become ruined was more than satisfying for him.

She smiled and snuggled into his chest, “If you say so.” Unfortunately for him, Jeneva had rubbed against him a bit too hard and searing pain ripped through Antony’s chest, but her giggling incited him to keep his cool. Arms around each other, they headed back to the slayers’ headquarters to treat Antony’s wounds. Once he received medical attention, they gave their report on the Mordecai Case.

Author's Note

Written for the "Write me this (Sentences)" contest hosted by Mila ^_^

I forgot to write down the instruction for the contest, and I thought we were supposed to start the story with the sentence, not just include it in the story somewhere. My bad....

So, this is another continuation of "Beneath the Blood Moon" and "A Slayer's Duty", except it now goes even further back into Mordecai and Antony's past history.

Also, it's not really implied in the story here, but Mordecai hasn't met Charlie yet.