Heroes to Hunted

I took one step back, then another, then another. My gut sank low with apprehension at Vincent's warning. He advanced slowly toward me, a rapier in one hand and a hollow cane in the other, with swirling shadows trailing behind.

'Idiot! Don't just stand there!' I griped to myself, then dashed toward my two knives.

The cadence of my heart still pounded with an unwavering determination, a fierce resolve that refused to back down. Yet, its rhythm was met with the piercing stabs of disappointment, slowly chipping away at any glimmer of hope that remained.

I was willing to fight tooth and nail, but any expectation of living was nonexistent.

If I had to compare what I felt at Vincent's survival, it was like desperately searching for the salvation of safety through a dense forest, only to find the sheer drop of a cliff at the end.

My heels ground across the floor as I halted and quickly snatched the knives. Then, I turned around to confront the elephant in the room.

An onyx fog crept out of the cell first. It consumed all the light in its path, devouring every inch of space into its void-like depths.

Vincent appeared a moment later, pacing out of the enclosure with a swagger in his step and his neck straightened confidently. He turned toward me, his eyes falling upon my clutched weapons.

"You'll never cease to impress me," Vincent chuckled as the smoke filled the room. "Do as you will," he grinned before disappearing into the maw of darkness. "Fight until your last breath. Struggle till the very bitter end. Just like 'he' did."

Vincent's molten gaze vanished into the fog, leaving me with the lingering fear his words instilled. I caged my unease, stuffing it deep down into the depths of my subconscious.

When I came to, Vincent's magic had already enshrouded the entirety of the room. 'Can't see a damn thing,' I squinted in futility.

My sight was rendered worthless, and the stench of grime-coated pennies filled the room. Between the littered bodies and blood mist, smelling anything else was an impossible task.

Bumbling through the dark was a surefire way to meet the reaper, so I had one sense left at my disposal: my hearing.

I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing, listening for even the slightest disturbance in the silence.

The tap of a footstep, the shuffling of a corpse, the clinking of a sword on hardwood; I scrutinized the room in apprehension for Vincent's first strike.

A minute passed; nothing.

Another sped by; still nothing.

However, by the third, the faint creak of wood sounded at my back. I tried to evade with a sidestep, but my reactions weren't sufficient. A searing pinch in my side halted my effort.

'Ah...shit!' I inwardly griped. Angling my gaze down, I saw a slick crimson sheen dripping down from a rapier's blade as it jutted outward from my flesh.

In one fluid movement, my assailant ripped the sword out, grinding it against my ribcage and squelching flesh as it left.

My body trembled, begging me to scream in frustration, but I inhaled my profanities and spun around, ready for a counterattack. Yet there was nothing; just a wall of swirling shadows met my challenge.

'So that's the game we're playing?' I scowled and pressured my wound. Vincent appeared to be planning to weaken me through repeated pokes and prods until he could deliver a decisive blow for victory.

"So much for the 'swift death,' huh?" I snarked into the void.

The void answered back.

"I apologize, Sir Sato," Vincent said from within the mist, "but you've proven yourself as quite a capable adversary. Reckless maneuvers against you would only waste energy and time."

"Oh yeah? Thanks for the compliment," my lips curved to smirk in sarcasm.

'What the hell do I do, though?' I internally questioned.

Thanks to the blinding veil, running for cover was futile. Vincent would catch and convert my body into a pin cushion long before I made any progress.

'C'mon. Come at me,' I angled my knives and assumed a wide stance. Ready to react on a moment's notice.

That moment came soon, rather several of them, as Vincent launched a string of vicious strikes.

First, Vincent plunged his sword toward my neck, which I narrowly blocked with my blades. I crossed them in an 'X,' catching his sword. As our weapons made contact, the clash of metal echoed through the room. A high-pitched screech filled my ears as the blades slid against each other with a grinding noise.

Then, I pulled both knives inward, closing their edges in on each other and reflecting Vincent's blade outward in a resounding parry.

"Well done," he calmly praised and retreated into the fog.

'The bastard is playing with me...' I scowled through gritted teeth.

Vincent held a condescending demeanor that only fueled my frustration, sending waves of anger coursing through my body. His seemingly aloof and detached aura made our bout seem as if he were calming an unruly hound, not fighting a trained killer.

Next, he swiped for my opposite side, seemingly teleporting behind me within the mist. Reacting was impossible, leaving me a large laceration wound on my upper back to lament later.

Finally, he slashed his rapier upward toward my right side, attempting to disarm me of a dagger...and my hand. Luckily, I managed a backstep and a retaliatory lunge, sticking the dagger's blade into his arm before ripping it out.

Vincent leaped backward, disappearing again from view. Though I wounded him, I knew it wouldn't be long before it regenerated.

'Me, on the other hand...' I took a moment to focus on the heated swelling scattered across my body, 'I'm stuck with my wounds.'

A growing dread filled my body, fueled by the sting of my cuts and injuries. So I took a slow inhale, then a slow exhale. 'Don't panic; clear yourself. Cast out the unnecessary,' I thought, trying to maintain a sense of calm within the turmoil.

Once again, I closed my eyes, releasing everything that wouldn't increase my chances of survival.

I swept aside my frustrations like dust.

I buried my physical pain deep within myself.

I drowned out my emotions and thoughts, snuffing them out like a flame in a downpour of rain.

By the end, my flesh was an empty husk. I had extracted my consciousness from my body, focusing and projecting it outward in a small radius.

The room was loud with silence once more as I awaited Vincent's second strike. The only noise within was the thrum of my quickened heartbeat against my chest and my hushed breaths.

Then, the clatter of a sword to my left as Vincent nudged it along the floor.

'NOW!' I roused my body into action.

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