Riting 5 - Bete Noir

The shadows moved, that was the second sign that something was there, skulking, lurking, waiting. The first sign had been the hairs on the nape of my neck bristling. Now I stood under the street light and looked like a man hoping against the odds for a taxi. There was no chance of a cab in this neighbourhood, not at this time of night, hell, not even at high noon.

I had two options: number one - walk briskly in the other direction, pretending I knew nothing, and hope I got away with it. Even so, even if I made it home in one piece, someone wouldn't, not tonight.

Option two it was then.

I crossed the street, heading for the building next to the alleyway. Then I walked across the dark opening. As I was about to reach the pool of light at the other side I whirled, and ducked to the side just as it leapt for the spot where my shoulder blades would have been. A thought flashed across my mind, I wished I had my sword, three feet of shining metal would have made me feel a lot more confident. In its absence I drew my dirk from its sheath under my leather jacket, and unholstered my pistol with my left hand.

Its momentum carried it about five metres past me, but it landed lithely on all four paws and whipped around to face me, snarling. As it gathered itself to spring again I quickly put two bullets in its chest and one between the eyes. That slowed it only slightly, but enough to give me time to lunge forward and bury the dirk to the hilt in its chest. The thing took a few seconds to notice the foot of hardened silver alloy piercing its heart, then its eyes glazed, the dull reddish glow faded, and it collapsed, losing bulk and definition as it fell. By the time it hit the ground it was becoming transparent, fading away before my eyes. My blade rang out as it fell to the pavement. I reached down, picked it up and sheathed it. No need to clean it, all traces of the beast it had been embedded in moments before were gone. I pocketed the three silvery slugs that had also dropped from the disappearing corpse - waste not, want not.

I took a deep breath, glanced up at the full moon floating amongst the clouds, and carried on down the street. Looking distracted, apparently hurrying home, actually alert to every sound and movement, I continued on my patrol.