in their tracks and turns, their jaws dropping at my response. Sadly, I think I am more surprised than any of them are because it is so unlike me to outrageously snap, but seriously, how much tearing down of your spirit can you take before you flat out explode?
“Excuse me?” Peter removes his arm from Belle.
“All you do is ride me about everything you think I do wrong!” I scream, approaching his face. “Newsflash, Peter, you’re not perfect! You’re the farthest thing in the group from it! And I understand you think you’re head honcho, and you just might be in this group, but that doesn’t give you the right to drag me through the mud over every ... single ... move ... I ... make.”
Peter opens his mouth to respond, but he’s cut off immediately when I tackle him to the ground, allowing the arrow that was aimed for us to zoom past.
“You can rag on me for this move later,” I scramble to get up as Justin tosses a dagger from his pocket through the heart of one of the Dark Watchers rushing toward us.
My eyes assess the situation through the quickly dissipating smoke that was the first attacker, noticing two Dark Watchers further back shooting arrows, while four more are headed at us, daggers, swords, and knives drawn. To no surprise, they aim straight for us, while Justin makes his way toward the ones shooting arrows.
The Dark Watcher who comes to attack me is gripping a knife, something easier to handle as it only has one sharp edge to potentially kill me. He swings quickly, sharply, and jabs me right in the ribs with a closed fist. Staggering from the pain, I do my best to swing my leg around, knocking him off his feet and onto his back. Unfortunately for me, he retaliates by kicking me in my calf, knocking me down to the ground. The Dark Watcher rolls on top of me and begins struggling to slice my throat with the blade. I struggle to fight back, punching him in his side, wiggling my body away, moving my head side to side, and grabbing his arm to keep it away my from neck. Something that should be mentioned when fighting Dark Watchers is that they are unrealistically strong, especially with death on the line. When he notices that going for my neck isn’t working, he lowers the knife to my side, pulls back, and stabs the sharp point in my ribs. I cry out in pain as his body unexpectedly poofs into smoke.
Growling in pain, I continue to cry out as I feel my own blood drip from my side onto my hand until it becomes too much to bare. My eyes shut—I hope not for good.
A few deep breaths fill my lungs as a cool air touches my chin, indicating that I didn’t die and that I also wasn’t taken to the hospital to receive proper medical treatment, something I am beginning to imagine probably won’t ever happen again.
I open my eyes to see Justin hovering over me, one hand stroking my hair, the other resting on my ribs where the knife sliced me. Relieved, he smiles tentatively, the light returning to his eyes as he whispers, “Hi.”
“Hi.”
Within the first few blinks, Peter’s face appears over me. He smirks as well, “I’m going to need you to get injured less.”
“I second that,” Justin sighs, using his hand to prop me up into a sitting position.
Peter pats him casually on the back, “Told you not to worry too much.”
“Yeah,” he nods in return. In a very genuine voice, he sighs, “Thanks, Peter.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Justin turns his attention back to me and asks, “You all right?”
I take a long, deep breath.
“Excuse me?” Peter removes his arm from Belle.
“All you do is ride me about everything you think I do wrong!” I scream, approaching his face. “Newsflash, Peter, you’re not perfect! You’re the farthest thing in the group from it! And I understand you think you’re head honcho, and you just might be in this group, but that doesn’t give you the right to drag me through the mud over every ... single ... move ... I ... make.”
Peter opens his mouth to respond, but he’s cut off immediately when I tackle him to the ground, allowing the arrow that was aimed for us to zoom past.
“You can rag on me for this move later,” I scramble to get up as Justin tosses a dagger from his pocket through the heart of one of the Dark Watchers rushing toward us.
My eyes assess the situation through the quickly dissipating smoke that was the first attacker, noticing two Dark Watchers further back shooting arrows, while four more are headed at us, daggers, swords, and knives drawn. To no surprise, they aim straight for us, while Justin makes his way toward the ones shooting arrows.
The Dark Watcher who comes to attack me is gripping a knife, something easier to handle as it only has one sharp edge to potentially kill me. He swings quickly, sharply, and jabs me right in the ribs with a closed fist. Staggering from the pain, I do my best to swing my leg around, knocking him off his feet and onto his back. Unfortunately for me, he retaliates by kicking me in my calf, knocking me down to the ground. The Dark Watcher rolls on top of me and begins struggling to slice my throat with the blade. I struggle to fight back, punching him in his side, wiggling my body away, moving my head side to side, and grabbing his arm to keep it away my from neck. Something that should be mentioned when fighting Dark Watchers is that they are unrealistically strong, especially with death on the line. When he notices that going for my neck isn’t working, he lowers the knife to my side, pulls back, and stabs the sharp point in my ribs. I cry out in pain as his body unexpectedly poofs into smoke.
Growling in pain, I continue to cry out as I feel my own blood drip from my side onto my hand until it becomes too much to bare. My eyes shut—I hope not for good.
A few deep breaths fill my lungs as a cool air touches my chin, indicating that I didn’t die and that I also wasn’t taken to the hospital to receive proper medical treatment, something I am beginning to imagine probably won’t ever happen again.
I open my eyes to see Justin hovering over me, one hand stroking my hair, the other resting on my ribs where the knife sliced me. Relieved, he smiles tentatively, the light returning to his eyes as he whispers, “Hi.”
“Hi.”
Within the first few blinks, Peter’s face appears over me. He smirks as well, “I’m going to need you to get injured less.”
“I second that,” Justin sighs, using his hand to prop me up into a sitting position.
Peter pats him casually on the back, “Told you not to worry too much.”
“Yeah,” he nods in return. In a very genuine voice, he sighs, “Thanks, Peter.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Justin turns his attention back to me and asks, “You all right?”
I take a long, deep breath.
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