"Good..." I spoke, my gaze never leaving the human who, for some reason I knew was just on the verge of descending into his Shadow.
"Now we all die."
I declared, because there was nothing else to say, and that was the absolute truth.
If not now, then a few moments later.
However, what concerned me the most was the fact that it had been staring at me too, staring in a bizarre, almost accusing manner, its eyes tracing every step of mine while its neck refused to move even an inch.
And just when I thought nothing could get any stranger, something shifted above my head, particularly one of the roofs.
It was one of those faint, almost dismissible movements you only notice because the entire world had gone unnaturally still.
I didn't look up at first, part of me assumed it was just the wind nudging the shutters or some bored bird deciding it wanted premium seats to this spectacle.
But apparently, I was wrong.
Because the next thing I knew, a lone figure launched itself off the rooftop.
Her cloak whipped out behind her in a rough arc, revealing the gleam of a steel forged scythe already drawn back, the blade catching what little sunlight managed to slip through the grey clouds overhead.
She wasn't aiming for the ground. She wasn't aiming for a dramatic entrance.
She was aiming at the pale, uncanny thing standing in the road, with the kind of reckless precision only someone who'd spent weeks hunting it would ever commit to mid air.
The crowd flinched as one organism.
And the best part?
The uncanny human reacted exactly like a guilty child caught mid theft.
It flinched.
Actually flinched.
Its head jerking back so sharply it looked as if the neck might snap.
The thing staggered, its limbs moving with that same unsettling, not quite human stiffness, and in the most pathetic, almost hilarious attempt at survival, it turned to flee.
Not charge.
Not attack.
Just flee from the descending blade. Like someone had accused it of stealing bread and it realized it absolutely looked suspicious enough to blame.
The girl landed hard, knees bending, boots skidding half a step as the scythe slammed into the ground where the creature's throat had been a heartbeat earlier.
Dust and loose gravel spat upward in an unimpressive but earnest burst.
The girl, because "woman" felt too generous for how small and irritated she looked, had a cloak marked with the faint insignia of the Church.
It fluttered for a moment before settling against her boots.
Definitely low rank.
High rank Church hunters didn't miss.
But damn, she had commitment.
"Stop, stop right there!" she barked, breathless and frustrated, swinging the scythe back into a guard stance.
"I said stop, you miserable—"
Unfortunately, the rest of her sentence drowned under the sudden gasps rippling through the crowd, who were most likely busy discussing the absolutely ridiculous combination of a Church member dropping from a roof, an uncanny entity fleeing like a child caught shoplifting, and me still standing in the road like an idiot.
"Oh for the love of the Saints, no, no, no!"
She groaned, pushing herself off the ground and sprinting after it, the scythe's blade dragging a thin, wavering line through the dirt behind her as she ran.
The creature didn't stop.
Of course it didn't.
And mid stride, just as its form stretched forward, its trace vanished entirely, like we'd all been watching a ghost who had only allowed us to see him for a moment, just long enough to regret it.
The moment almost everyone realized the thing had managed to slip away, melting into the crowd of frozen, wide eyed villagers like a stain retreating into shadow, the girl clicked her tongue in unmistakable annoyance.
Loudly. At me.
"Of course," she muttered, pointing a gloved finger directly at my chest, as though she'd found the root of every problem in her life.
Her white hair, still ruffled from the rooftop leap, slipped over one eye, an eye that, now that she was close enough to jab at me, revealed that strange hazel orchid shade that shouldn't have looked as accusing as it did.
"Of course it's you. It just had to stare at you, didn't it?"
I blinked. "…Pardon?"
She scoffed, pacing two steps, then three, then wheeling back toward me with her palm pressed to her forehead like she was trying to contain a migraine that had ambitions of becoming a full blown catastrophe.
Her cloak shifted with the motion, briefly outlining the slim waist typical of church-hunters, who werre used to running more than a fight itself.
"Don't play innocent. Creepers only lock eyes like that with people they've interacted with. Or people they're… connected to. And when I arrive," she gestured vaguely at the spot where the pale creature had vanished, at the crowd still gripping hammers and sacks of grain mid motion, at the cart behind me whose horses looked about ready to mutiny.
"it's looking at you. Great. Just perfect."
Connected? With that thing?
I almost laughed, almost, but her tone had that particular strain that belonged to someone who was already spiraling downhill at an impressive speed.
"That's just plain bullshit," I said flatly.
"And I don't believe it."
She stopped.
Stared at me like I had just calmly confessed to the exact crime she'd been trying to pin on me.
For a brief, surreal moment, she looked between me and the empty patch of road where the uncanny thing had last stood, tilted head, twitching jaw, as if she were trying to solve a puzzle someone had set on fire halfway through and then kicked into a ditch.
Then she stepped forward and jabbed her finger at my chest again.
"Don't go anywhere. Whether you are involved, intentionally or not, I swear, I am dragging you to the Church of the Rebel myself."
I exhaled sharply, desperately trying of letting out the familiar pressure bubbling inside my ribs.
Irritation.
"I really was just trying to reach my destination," I muttered, though I had entirely different ordeal within my mind.
'I must refrain my instincts from reacting, and I must not hit her. She's naive. she's naive. don't hit . don't hit her. She's maive.'
I consoled myself, yet the feeling never vanquished.
Thus, the instincts got the better of me.
----
Drop P.S and few of those G.T guys.