him and the hall before glaring at him with consternation and throwing herself after her prey with a hiss.
It took Morgan a few moments for his brain to finish processing and respond. When he finally did it was to take off down the hallway, without a clue of what he was going to do. He hadn't expected to find anything when he had left the station. When he heard the fighting he had expected hobos or junkies or maybe some cultists in a fist fight. Running into little girls with strange eyes and weapons trying to kill each other wasn't even on the list of things he might have to deal with.
Something smashed down the hall. One thing was clear, if he didn't do something, one or both of those girls were going to get killed. So he tore down the hall with his flashlight in one hand and gun ready in the other.
He leaped broken chairs and glanced into empty class and meeting rooms, casting his flashlight into them to find nothing but frightened shadows and old echoes. He went up two flights of stairs following the sounds of the fight, not even sure how two little girls could have gotten so far so quickly.
Finally he turned into a classroom just in time to blind the purple eyed girl, standing over her opponent, with his flashlight. Her pupils didn't shrink as her head snapped up and murder shone in her alien gaze. The girl she stood over didn't hesitate in taking the advantage and soundlessly swung her smooth mace into the leg of the purple eyed girl, who went down as the leg gave out with a crunch like wood snapping.
Somehow the purple eyed girl managed to knock the mace out of her opponents hand on the way down and only yelled in wordless rage over her broken leg. Then they were wrestling over the sword as the purple eyed girl tried desperately to wrench it from her opponents grasp, who was in turn using both hands to try and hack the blade into purple eyes' face.
Neither of them spared a moment for Morgan's increasingly panicked commands. He shouted for them to stop, to separate, that he would pull them apart if he had to. Striding carefully up to the flailing mass of arms and weapons, the purple eyed girl on top pulled the sword backwards and took a swing at his leg. Falling back he shouted in alarm, pain lancing through his leg. A large cut had been opened from just below his knee to halfway down his shin. It would have been deeper but the girl on bottom with the dangling arm had wrenched the weapon away mid slice and it flew across the floor into the dark of the room.
He had dropped his flashlight in falling and the whole world seemed to roll with the turning light until it finally came to a stop. The light was shining against a nearby wall and it reflected out into the dark just enough to see the purple eyed girl on top finally gain the advantage. Morgan watched in confused horror as this small girl held the other down with one hand and raised the bolas up over her head with the other. Tied weights came down with punishing force and slammed into the pale girls face with a gut wrenching cracking and crunching sound that almost made Morgan throw up right then.
He trained his gun on the girl on top, unsure of what to do and afraid to get close and get hit by the bone snapping bolas this time. “Stop or I will shoot!” He yelled unable to believe he was pointing his gun at a little girl, or that the same girl was beating another to death. The bolas smashed into the girls face again and again as she fought to get a hold of her attacker.
He pulled the gun up and fired off two shots into the ceiling. Finally the girl with the bolas looked up, purple eyes dark and menacing. Then she brought her bolas up and began to spin them, staring at Morgan as she prepared to throw them. She flew, the pale girl on the bottom finally throwing her off and rolling away out of the light. The pale girl emerged from the darkness a moment later with the mace clutched in the hand of her broken arm and the short sword in her good hand.
The girl with the bolas glanced from her opponent to Morgan as she slowly picked herself off the floor, her strange purple eyes filled with anger and blood lust like no child could know. She screamed a wordless scream of rage and threw herself awkwardly with her broken leg into the dark. The sound of glass breaking flooded the room a moment later before silence reigned but for his own ragged breathing.
Morgan glanced at the girl who had been beaten, before grabbing his flashlight and darting toward where the girl had disappeared as fast as his own leg would carry him. There was nothing but some old desks and a broken window that looked out onto the silent, empty grounds.
He turned around to inspect the other girl. She stood quietly, her head bowed, hair obscuring her face. He stepped towards her his mouth opening for a question when she spoke in a small, soft, steady and sure voice. “It would not be wise to go after her.” Something was strange in her voice. The cadence of her words were off and she was far too calm, probably a result of the trauma. “She will not like you interfering here.” And with those words she turned towards the door.
“Are you alright kid? We should take you to the hospital.” He reached for her shoulder as he said it, noting to himself that he sounded much calmer than he felt. She danced out of his range like she had never been there.
“I will be fine. My father will fix me, he is very good at it. I am sorry but I have no time to help you out of the building officer. Good night.” she spoke while walking and her words sounded more an awkward series of short statements than anything else, like instructions. Walking into the dark hallway she disappeared like a ghost. By the time Morgan got to the door there was no sign of the girl in either direction.
Morgan took a moment to examine his leg more closely. He found that the cut wasn't too deep and though he might limp a little, it wasn't serious. It burned in the way fresh cuts tend to, with that skin searing tingle that made it feel like the edges where trying to melt back together, but that was the worst of it.
From there he took a moment to orient himself, having rushed heedlessly around the building trying to find the girls earlier. Eventually he limped out of the building and found his way back to his cruiser. Sitting himself half in the drivers seat he looked back out at the building and grounds. The area was quiet, the building dark and silent, refusing to speak of the madness that had occurred within.
Sighing out his frustration, he picked up the radio and called in the girls descriptions. No mention of fighting with weapons, disappearing into the dark or him nearly shooting one of them. Just two girls too young to be out at night in a scuffle, and running from the police officer. In truth he hoped no one else ran into those girls tonight.
He just sat in his cruiser for a while after that. Bleeding and sorting though what had happened. Had he almost shot that girl? She was beating the other one to death, and she had tried to hack his leg off. He sat there unsure of how he was supposed to respond to, or even to deal with all of it. After a while he pulled himself into the vehicle, started it up and rolled out towards the gates.
The plan he had formed was to circle the area once and then head back to the station, or maybe the hospital. He was in the middle of making excuses for his leg and the shots he fired when, as he rolled out of the gate leading out to the driveway, something heavy landed on the back of his cruiser. The vehicle jostled and bounced with the impact, and the distinctive pop of metal shifting under strain could be heard.
A pair of angry purple eyes glared at him through the rear view mirror. Morgan whipped around to see the rear window crack, shooting tiny slivers of glass into the back seat. The bolas smashed into the glass again making it come away at the corner, causing a sudden snowfall of cracks and making it impossible to see through.
Morgan listened to his instincts, they had served him well over the years. He hit the gas hard and the cruiser jumped forward. A shifting metal pop followed by a loud crack of bone on pavement announced that the move had indeed dislodged his attacker as intended. The car came to a stop only a couple meters later and he gripped the wheel tightly. He had to go out and check on her, no matter what his instincts were saying.
With the parking break on and his gun out he came around wide to look behind his vehicle. There, bathed in the ominous red glow of his tail lights was the small
crumpled form of the girl. It looked grim, she didn't move or make a sound. It didn't even look like she was breathing. The red glow of the lights made the whole scene nightmarish. The red glow. Red. “No blood...” his own voice sounded strange to him as he replayed the night in his head. Something he hadn't even realized was bugging him suddenly leaped out.
The deep realization that something was very wrong with these girls, if that was really what they were, sank in. Her leg stuck out at an odd angle from where the other girl had smashed and broken it earlier, but there was no blood from her leg, or her head were she had fallen. He had seen one girl have her face crushed repeatedly, no blood. He was pretty sure this one had jumped out of a window three stories up with a broken leg! Still the only blood he had seen that night was his own.
He paled as the girl behind the car sat up. The red light made her purple eyes black. Her eyes poured out on him the baleful glare of an angry demon from days of yore. It said that she was angry and he was going to pay the price for it.
Morgan turned as the girl silently rose to her feet and dove back into his vehicle. Laying across the seat he turned to find the little girl already starting to climb into the