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 Posted: Sat Jun 26, 2021 7:30 pm
Just as Lev feared, the strange monster used its sharp claws to rip through Misha’s arm, and his cry of pain had what was left of the blood in Lev’s face draining in horror. He did not want to see his little brother getting hurt, and now thanks to his inaction there was no telling what this monster would end up doing to his brother.
He was aware that Misha managed to injure it as well, but it was only enough to anger it. Even though Misha tried pushing him down to the open streets, Lev couldn’t run. He couldn’t just leave Misha again. Not after leaving him in Russia.
The pain slowed his reactions, and while he tried putting up his fists to stop the monster in its tracks, razor sharp claws cut right through his already bloodied abdomen. The air felt like it was torn from his lungs, and when he coughed, blood came up.
He hadn’t expected to die like this, in the streets, from some horrific monster. But maybe Misha would be smart and use the distraction of the monster finishing him off to run away, instead.
When the youma withdrew its claws, Lev collapsed onto the ground.
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Posted: Sat Jun 26, 2021 7:48 pm
If Lev ran, Cymophane would run, but if Lev stayed, Cymophane had no choice but to protect him.
For most of his life, Lev was all he had.
Cymophane could thank their parents for one thing and one thing only: he didn’t fall apart yet, even though it was obvious to him that Lev was gravely wounded. While the youma attacked Lev, Cymophane used his magic again, carving broad strokes out of the youma’s flesh. Its screams grew more piercing, but it turned back to him, limping as it came for him again.
He had one more burst of magic left, and Cymophane used it wisely, waiting until the youma was close enough to feel the full effects.
Blood soaked the street. Lev’s. His own. The youma smeared dark tracks of liquid over everything, beginning to falter, but carrying on.
Magic exhausted, Cymophane grabbed anything within reach and hurled it at the youma. A trash can lid flew into the youma’s chest, knocking it back. A bottle smashed against its head, raining drops of alcohol onto its torn flesh. A crate took its feet out from under it, sending it crashing to the ground in a heap of flailing limbs. Slowly tiring, it struggled to right itself.
Cymophane took advantage of the moment, approached, and brought the heel of his boot down hard against its head.
The youma screeched one final time and burst into dust.
Breathing ragged, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, Cymophane rushed over to his fallen brother.
“Lev!” he gasped out his brother’s name, dropping to his knees beside him, hands hovering above him, too scared to touch.
There was so much blood.
“Lev, you ******** idiot,” he swore.
Lev needed a hospital. Not in the time it would take an ambulance to get here. Now, before he bled out in the street.
“It’ll be okay,” Cymophane said, summoning his missing communication device to attempt that distress call again. “This is Cymophane, in need of emergency teleport. Please, if anyone’s nearby…”
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Posted: Sat Jun 26, 2021 7:57 pm
The shock must have stalled some of the pain. It was agonizing, of course, but he was able to not focus on it. He could feel his lungs filling, but not with air. The monster’s sharp claws had cut right through him.
But he didn’t want Misha to worry. Even if he was going to die there, he didn’t want his little brother thinking it was anything but Lev’s own fault.
“When did--... you grow up?” he asked, barely able to lift a hand to wipe the blood from his mouth. It was disgusting, and he didn’t want Misha to see that. It was bad enough that he couldn’t move much more than that.
“You should be wearing jacket over that,” he nodded, his voice weak, but he wanted Misha to know that if he was going to be running around in leopard print, that other people didn’t need to be staring at him for inappropriate reasons.
“... wearing a jacket…” he corrected himself. He was just going to rest his eyes a little.
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Posted: Sat Jun 26, 2021 8:08 pm
Cymophane ignored the burning in his eyes. Now wasn’t the time for it. Lev needed help, and Cymophane could get him help if someone would just <******** answer.
“This is Cymophane requesting emergency teleport,” he said again, then, voice rising louder, he tried, “General Jet! Kamacite!”
Where the <********> was everyone when he needed them?!
His hands were shaking. There was blood everywhere. His shoulder hurt, but he couldn’t pay attention to that right now.
If no one responded, what was he supposed to do? Should he power down? Call an ambulance? Teleporting would be faster. Maybe Lev could be saved, if someone would just…
“Why the ******** won’t anyone answer?!” he screamed at the stupid silver pen topped with a stupid purple crystal.
Cymophane put a hand against Lev’s face, pushing some of his hair out of his eyes, watching them go dim.
“Wake up,” he whispered. “Lyova… wake up!”
High above them, another meteor streaked through the night sky.
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