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.

Cross posting

Below is a post I made on a thread at Public Address System. I wouldn't normally stick it up here, but I think it could bear development, and maybe turn into something useful. Plus its longer than than my usual posts, so I might as well get some mileage from all that typing...

I'd also note that "Chinese" as we use it in New Zealand is an umbrella term, referring to one or more of nationality, culture, language and ethnicity
Which has changed and is changing with more exposure to Chinese and Asian people and culture.
As far as my mother-in law is concerned, anyone from Mongolia to Indonesia and across to Myanmar is "Chinee". She's old school. Kiwis of my generation are more likely to be able to distinguish Korean from Chinese, from Malaysian, from Thai, etc. If only by the food.
My kids will be even more globalised, their school has more Korean kids than Maori, my youngest's best mates are boy from Pakistan, one from somewhere middle-eastern (I'm guessing northern middle-east, but I don't know - but we now know more about halal food than we used to - McD's ice-cream bad, but Wendy's is OK), a french kid and I think a kiwi lad as well.
We inherit a lot of baggage from our parents' generation as kids, then as we grow up, we either settle into the same ruts, or we compare that knowledge with what we find in the world, and build ourselves a new set of baggage to pass onto our kids. Hopefully a lighter set of luggage.
When I was at primary school 'Arab' was an abstract concept involving deserts & camels. 'Jew' was a derogatory term for someone who kept wanting a bit of your lunch. 'Chinese' was very exotic, and referred to sweet & sour wontons and chop suey.Over time I worked out that Arabia hasn't been a country for a long time, but the region has a much longer history of civilisation than anywhere my ancestors have called home. I had several friends who after a while turned out to be Jewish, and bore no resemblance at all to Shylock or whatsisname from Oliver Twist. I met plenty of Chinese students at high school and Uni, both fresh off the plane and first gen (spent a nice few days canoeing down the Wanganui River with one, which his parents didn't quite see the point of when he should have been studying, of course I couldn't see the point of all that studying when he was already dux).

Long story short, kids are dumb, but they can learn.