Nine Lives

[Gildarts]

The next round and it was Cal’s turn to show his “allies” why he was already prepared to be in the finals. He seemed bored, and the air of his attitude wafted with ample levity. And his opponent, a shaking blonde female, appeared to be plagued by distress at seeing who she would be fighting. Gildarts however, could tell this wouldn’t be an easy match.

Cal’s hands already started to crackle. In response, the distant female’s expression hardened. Her eyes slanted to something over her shoulder, before settling on her opponent, who wore dark clothing and caught the eye of everyone as they looked down at the two battling in the pale arena.

The assassin watched his opponent for a moment, studying her quirks, analyzing her motion, noting her level of speed and accuracy. The two muttered something, Cal laughed in response. “You? An assassin?”

“That’s right. And taking down you will be my ticket to the big times.” The girl stated, point blank.

Cal’s jaw hung open for a split second, as that sounded quite familiar to the reason he had joined this tournament in the first place. “Why do you want to take down me? What do you think it will accomplish?” But he already knew the answer, at this point, he was buying a bit of time.

“Don’t you get it? You’re my competition. And if I can smite you from the market, people will see my skill, and I’ll have one less person to steal my business.” She spoke again, he eyes as cold as her words.

Cal nodded for show, “Hah, so this is because you aren’t good enough to get your own business, so you have to steal someone else’s. Listen lady, why don’t you go steal the ninja’s work, I hear they’ve been slacking a bit and-”

Suddenly, the battle took place in lightning speed. Gildarts felt his eyes move to match their movements, which may have even been invisible to the many spectators around the stadium.

A hand blocked a static fist that was aimed for the girl’s chest. A dagger sliced too close to Cal’s throat. Hair clipped and clothing was torn as the two teen assassins strode to have each other’s throats. An immediate jolt brought the two forms back into the audience’s view. The girl now held Cal in a tight grip, with her arm snagged around his neck. They were both wiggling, the hold was imperfect and not permanent. Both her hands were full as they fumbled for the means to kill one another.

The girl readied a knife, still too distant to slice anything but a little skin from his cheek. Meanwhile Cal took his chances at shocking her, but she had neutralized the threat one of his hands had posed by attaching a gross black liquid to it. The other struggled as the blonde grasped his wrist, restraining his touch from reaching any part of her body.
The blonde snarled, “I’m going to kill you! You’re just making this harder on yourself, don’t you want a quick death?”

Cal’s eyes suddenly turned to ice, “You think you can actually kill me?” Immediately he found the strength to free himself of the wretched hold the girl had snagged on him. Before she could protest, her neck had been snapped. Cal growled, as though holding his challenger to a higher standard, and getting a bit disappointed. The goop around his static hand suddenly drooled off, and the teen looked down at his fellow assassin in a moment of ferocious grief. “Tch. Such a shame.”

The crowd began to clap as Cal walked from the stage.