The Coming From the Shadows Series
Previous Instalments:
- The Newcastle Conspiracy: Part 1 – Norina’s Encounter: Cults and Danger in Newcastle
- T.I.C: The Mystery Fighter of Leeds – The Imperium Chronicles: The Mystery Fighter of Leeds
- In the Shadow of the Reaper – The Chronicles of the Imperium: In the Shadow of the Reaper
- T.I.C: The Newcastle Conspiracy Part 2 – Norina and Erin: A Tale of Courage and Discovery
The Imperium Chronicles: Confrontation in Whickham
Back-Ground:
Since ancient times; the Imperium has sat within the darkness, established as unifying voice of competing Cultist factions, each that represented their own interests which served a greater goal – the return of their Ancient Celestial Master – since the master was locked away, the Cult’s sought the very prison he was within, though the Ancient Temple’s they tried to find were protected by the ‘Guardians’ a mysterious group that ensured the protection of the very temples the Imperium tried to gain entry, though as time slowly marched on, despite growing influence – the Imperium’s goal became diluted; the goals shifted, seeking knowledge and power became the central goal as memories of their great Master faded – it wouldn’t be until the 17th century; were Alfred Smythe a relatively unknown Cultist within an even smaller influential circle committing acts of Piracy would discover the first piece of evidence that drew his attention to the long-forgotten history of the Imperium’s original mission.
With new knowledge, Alfred uncovered a defenceless temple within Malta; the Artefacts and Knowledge he uncovered brought him to a realisation – the Ancient Prison was within reach, seizing the opportunity he took power of the small English Cult – reorganising it into the Cult of the Minotaur, using wealth and the outbreak of the English Civil War – Alfred built his power base.
Forwards to the 1870’s; George Smythe – Alfred’s descendant now led the Cult of the Minotaur – using his position as a powerful Businessman, he organised and intertwined the Cult with his Empire, it enabled him to begin influencing the Imperium itself and various smaller Cultist group ranging from the newly united Italy to Egypt, from the Indian Subcontinent to Siam – until his near collapse in power in 1905 after a rebellion by his son in response to George’s callous suggestion of using his daughter Lydia as a sacrificial lamb.
Now; the Imperium is faced by both internal and external threats; desperate attempts to strike at its enemies are made to regain control of its crumbling foundations; the Cult of the Minotaur, in a state of vulnerability finds its under threat within the very land it originated; Britain as George’s estranged wife; Cathryn and his twin daughters; Elizabeth and Lydia seek to build on their growing Anti-Cultist movement to challenge the Cult’s influence in the British Empire.
Introduction:
Organising a regrouping in Carlisle; Cathryn brought her twin daughters; Elizabeth and Lydia, her adopted daughter; Norina and met with three of her longest allies; a Manchurian; Xian, a former Serbian-Soldier; Damir and her long time mentor who also trained her daughter Lydia, an enigmatic figure simply known as ‘The Monk’ and two new additional allies; British soldiers; Thomas and Miquel to a small safehouse to organise a renewed effort against her estranged husband influence – delegating assignments; while Elizabeth and Miquel would travel to East Kilbride to find an old contact Elizabeth once knew, her daughter younger daughter; Lydia went to Glasgow alongside the British soldier; Thomas.
The Monk – He chose to travel to Edinburgh, while Xian and Damir would travel to Leeds.
Cathryn and her adopted daughter; Norina, would travel to a safehouse in Whickham to organise movements to counter the influence of the Cult of the Minotaur within Newcastle.
These plans led to differing outcomes; Elizabeth’s success was achieved in East Kilbride, though the informant Lydia went to meet turned to be a trap; a Cultist named Jack nearly succeeded in killing her after a brutal fight.
While in Leeds; Xian and Damir encountered a stranger with skill they have never encountered; forcing their retreat from Leeds.
Meanwhile in Whickham; the arrival of a former American Cultist; Erin, who had been developing a friendship with Lydia and Norina due to her previous obsessive fascination would arrive to protect Norina after she got into difficult – the interactions preceding her rescue from four predatory men would lead to a heart-to-heart between Erin and Norina while they performed a stakeout at the Port of Tyne, revealing Norina’s developing feelings of attraction to Erin.
Chapter 1:
16th of March 1910 A.D.
Harrogate, England
Arriving into the early hours; Xian and Damir stepped off onto the platform; they still wore the shame of their defeat by a lone individual that had defeated them in hand-to-hand combat, Xian, the wiry Manchurian was barely containing his frustration as the stench of coalsmoke wafted around them, Xian spat at the ground, the taste bitter from their defeat “So fast” he stated as the two of them began moving to reach the next platform
Damir grunted in agreement “He used some of our own methods though; that powder, we’re lucky he hadn’t used crushed glass when you fought against him; you’d have potentially suffered far worse than a little irritation” Damir glanced as he heard the screaming of a train rushing past beneath them as they crossed towards the next platform “It was like fighting some kind of ghost”
The memory of the fight repeated within Xian’s mind as he slowly nodded; the ‘Stranger’ had moved with uncanny grace despite wearing what looked like bulky and heavy clothing, his ability to anticipate and the sheer lethality of – neither of them were remotely prepared for such an encounter “We have to reach Cathryn; she needs to know about this”
Damir nodded his head “Well…, we need to reach the safehouse near Newcastle…, or is it in Whickham?”
“Whickham, I believe” Xian said, his gaze drifting over to Damir as they began to make their way down a set of stairs to the next platform “I am unsure if Cathryn has ever encountered anything like that before; this is concerning…”
Connecting Train Between Glasgow to Tanfield
The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels provided a monotonous soundtrack to their journey as they travelled from Glasgow; Lydia – the younger twin of Elizabeth, stirred in her sleep, her head lolling against Thomas’ shoulder.
Thomas shifted slightly, trying not to disturb her, his eyes were fixed on her; concern furrowed his brow – the bloodstains marring her shirt beneath her ruined jacket and a bandage wrapped around the palm of her hand from her recent fight during her ambush in Glasgow.
Miquel: a Kenyan born soldier sat with his eyes drifting between Lydia and her older twin, he still struggled to grasp their relation; Lydia was like a miniature-version of her mother, her long Raven-Dark Hair and silvery eyes were so different to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth – she was the miniature-female version of her father, she shared his blonde hair, which she had tied back behind her hair into a neat bun; and her icy-blue eyes were fierce and very much like pools of glacial ice.
Elizabeth watched her sister with a detached expression “Honestly; she’s like a magnet for blood trouble” she said, her voice betraying irritation “Every single time; she always ends up needing to be patched up like a porcelain doll”
Thomas shifted his gaze as he remained in place, while he wanted to avoid disturbing Lydia, he also wanted to make sure she remained comfortable; he spoke with a thick Lancastrian accent “She doesn’t back down” he said, he was clearly proud of the young woman he had grown an attachment too since their first interaction back in 1907 after encounter her in the Himalayan mountains “I think it is rather endearing”
“Bravery and recklessness are two sides of the same coin soldier” Elizabeth narrowed her eyes towards him; she recognised the growing bond, even if her sister didn’t truly understand her own feelings, Elizabeth recognised it, unlike Lydia who had spent so long outside of normal society due to constantly travelling and needing to escape Cultist threats since her escape from their father in 1905 – Elizabeth, she had remained loyal to their father until 1908 – but, it allowed her to move amongst normal society, allowed her to adapt to both the higher echelons of class society and the working classes, unlike Lydia who adopted their mothers more working class accent similar to Thomas; though it blended with the sounds of cockney Londoner accent, creating a rather unique sounding voice – Elizabeth retained her more ‘posh’ accent, from her time still living amongst privilege, often speaking with a ‘clipped tone’ – often being more brisk and clear compared to her sisters more ‘rough’ tones, at least when Lydia speaks that is
Miquel listened to them a moment before his dark eyes, reflecting his thoughtfulness shifted towards Elizabeth, then towards Thomas “These Cultists really are becoming a problem” he said; his accent thick with his blending his English adopted accent from his military service with his native Swahili “Maybe it would be better to get Wilson and our old regiment more involved” he suggested
“While I agree; I doubt he could Miquel; this isn’t exactly public knowledge is it mate, they operate in secrecy; influence things from the shadows” Thomas pointed out “It could put us, Wilson and our comrades in a lot of danger”
Miquel thought a moment before leaning back; nodding in acknowledgement – the conversation lulled as they fell into a shared silence, each lost in deep thought as they train continued on its journey.
Chapter 2:
16th of March 1910 A.D.
Whickham, England
At the safehouse nestled within Whickham; Cathryn Langdon sat at a table littered with maps, reports and faded photographs – her silvery eyes, reflecting the years of her activity hunting Cultists for so long, scanned through the documents with a hawk-like intensity.
She was piercing together fragmented intelligence, searching for patterns, for weaknesses but also, she was trying to find information on new groups that were opposing the Imperium like she was, the recent attack observed by Erin and Norina at the Port of Tyne was both alarming and intriguing.
Across the room; Erin; a former American Cultist sat quietly – for those unuse to her presence, she could be quite unnerving; her Black hair cascaded down her back like a silken waterfall.
It contrasted starkly with her pale, almost ghostly complexion – her emerald green eyes, usually sharp and intimidating had adopted a soften look as she pretended to read, in truth though, she was actually more focused on Norina’s sleeping form on the bed seat they were both sharing, Norina’s head was gently resting against Erin’s thigh.
Norina shared a twin-like similarity to Lydia – it was what had originally drew Erin’s attention – her long Raven-Dark hair was currently messy, sprawling about her sleeping form; her closed eyes hid away her innocent silvery-grey eyes – Erin’s upbringing within the Cult had led to a rather twisted perspective giving her a morbid fascination with death; though her developing bond with Norina, her innocence and unwavering kindness – that gentle spirit, it had become an unexpected anchor for Erin.
Slowly, almost reverently; Erin gently traced her fingers against Norina’s hair – Cathryn glanced in their direction for a moment, her expression softening as she observed the tender moment between them, a ghost of a smile touching her lips before returning her focus to the grim task at hand.
Leeds, England
Within the grimy heart of the industrial district; the aftermath of a mass-workers riot was felt, a cruel crack down had followed and Charles; a man of perpetually greasy hair, a condescending smirk was sat behind his desk, he watched as some younger workers had begun cleaning his opulent-looking office, he had already just sacked many of those involved with a riot, anger was at a boiling point amongst workers – another riot was close to occurring, Charles however, he didn’t care – he was the foreman representing George’s Smythe himself, Charles himself had ties to the very Cult of the Minotaur which was what secured him his job within the factory.
Astor; an anomaly within not just the factory – but Leeds itself, he was a figure that was simply a mystery, dressed with his modernised-pants, his sturdy boots and the multi-layered robes; over his chest he wore a strange experimental body-armour – his weapon’s; a Kodachi Japanese Short-Sword rested on his back, a Kukri Knife peeked from the back of his waist – then, there was the Mauser C96 holstered to his hip – Astor radiated an unnerving energy that simply filled the room.
Despite his success in surviving the riot and even the attempted attack by Xian and Damir – he was still unnerved by Astor’s presence, regardless of how hard he tried to maintain an image of strength – Astor stood impassive “It’s impressive work Astor; I have a report here stating there is no sign of those two rabble-rousers within the city”
Astor’s continued silence as he stood in the shadow like an impassive sentinel continued to unnerve, it was overwhelming how much of a presence he held “Is there…, anything you require” he questioned, his voice laced with a forced cheerfulness
Astor merely inclined his head; it was a gesture that could be interpreted as anything; without a word, he simply left – he left Charles confused, Astor had allowed Xian and Damir to escape; claimed he knew where they were going and how it would be beneficial – he didn’t understand Astor’s intentions, but, he was rather glad he decided to leave.
The Port of Tyne
Back in the north, the bustling Port of Tyne was a chaotic mess; flames licked the sky as police and firemen battled to contain the recent chaos that had unfolded during the previous night.
A chaotic firefight had broken out after a strange, organised group launched an attack, though police were unsure what the target was, it had been specifically targeted against one warehouse, leaving a trail of devastation, shattered crates and bodies within its wake.
Observing from the shadows; a figure stood still, eyes locked on the local authorities trying to reestablish order to the chaos; his strange chest armour made him stand out from ordinary workers, despite it though; he had managed to evade police, keeping out of sight – his gaze swept across the carnage, absorbing every detail, analysing the aftermath of the attack with a cold, analytical precision before fading from sight entirely.
The police investigation would find nothing but conflicting accounts, blames cast onto gangs or accidental explosions; the truth though, that was far more sinister – far more complex.
Chapter 3:
Edinburgh, Scotland
Far away from the chaos of Newcastle and the Port of Tyne; a different battle had just unfolded within the a claustrophobic-inducing alleyway with dim-lighting – a man, dressed that looked like some kind of Tibetan Monk with his face obscured by a hood moved with speed that made him a blur of motion; ‘The Monk’ as he was known was a whirlwind of speed and power, striking with seemingly light strikes against a Cultist he had been tracking.
Each of his movements made him almost like water; his movements fluid and graceful as he struck with devasting strikes – the Cultist; a large man was reduced to little more than a shaking mess as he crashed against the ground – the Monk rested his hands casually behind his back as he stood over the fallen Cultist “So…, tell me what I would like to know” his tone, while polite carried his threat of further violence
Tanfield Station, England
The scent of coal and steam filled the air as a train came screeching into the station; Xian and Damir arrived just moments before the train carrying Elizabeth, her sister Lydia and the two British Soldiers; Thomas and Miquel – the two groups converged with faces mixed with relief and apprehension.
Xian raised his eyebrow as he saw Lydia and her injuries “Again?” he questioned “Your meant to have been trained, how are you this banged up, again!” he snapped
Lydia barely responded to him, her face a mask that made her unreadable “She was ambushed” Thomas said quickly; his eyes fixed on Xian, though he was irritated by Xian’s outburst
“The informant Lydia went to meet turned out to be a trap” Miquel added
“An informant tried to gut her; that was a hell of a misunderstanding” Xian commented
“No; a trap” Elizabeth stated firmly “A Cultist named Jack; he organised a trap to try killing her, she escaped, but not without the typical injury”
Lydia’s eyes drifted to her older twin; then simply started walking forwards as Thomas remained with her “Hey, Xian; we can’t say anything, we got our head kicked in by a lone fighter” Damir said, Xian quickly shot him a glare, but Damir remained unrepentant, the sting of their defeat was still fresh and Damir did not intend to let Xian forget
Whickham, England
The group would eventually arrive to the safehouse; upon entering though, they were greeted by a much stranger atmosphere than they had expected; instead of a tense environment – it was warm and inviting, they discovered that Erin had now joined at the safehouse and was at present, telling jokes that were causing Norina to giggle – the scene was so gentle, so intimate it paused their arrival.
Eliabeth though; unlike the others cared little to disturb the happy scene, her eyes landing onto Norina and her interaction with Erin – as she observed them, her eyes narrowed on the way they were holding hands; before she could speak though, Cathryn emerged from the back room, her face one moment lost in thought, the next; as her eyes landed on her daughter were now an expression of concern as she moved towards her quickly “Lydia; what happened” her voice laced with worry
“That informant she went to meet; it was a trap” Elizabeth said, her tone suddenly sharp, her expression hardened and then she pointed “First; what is the American Cultist doing here; and why are they so close together like that” she questioned, her voice growing harsher “What is wrong with them?”
Lydia’s eyes narrowed as she looked towards Elizabeth; Thomas, who was watching Lydia could see the almost imperceptible movement in her stance, she had become tense all of a sudden, sensing her growing anger towards Elizabeth outbursts, he looked towards Miquel a moment; the two exchanging looks
Norina’s happy expression seemed to vanish as she looked towards Elizabeth; Erin also turned her attention towards the new arrivals.
“What do you mean; ‘What is wrong with them’?” Cathryn questioned, her voice tightening as she looked at her eldest daughter with a raised eyebrow
“This…, domestic bliss here…, what is going on?” Elizabeth snapped “What’s wrong with them; they should be ashamed of themselves!”
“Elizabeth; enough!” Cathryn snapped, her voice sharp
“No; not enough! they are being intimate, you’re allowing that?” Elizabeth narrowed her eyes as she looked towards her mother – she would take things further with a critical comment and it would have a severe reaction
That statement changed the entire atmosphere; Lydia; moving her hand towards her bag that hung down along her side; the strap crossed towards her opposite shoulder; tied to her bag was her Jian Sword; her slender fingers wrapped around the hilt and she moved; she stepped forwards drawing the sword free within a flash of movement – the polished steel glinted in the light as it came to a halt in front of her sisters throat “Apologies; now!” Lydia hissed, her voice icy
Elizabeth’s eyes drifted to the sword in front of her throat; her breath catching – She believed that this sort of action would have long since passed, they’d begun working together, now though; it was just like how Elizabeth had first reunited with her mother and sister in Greece after being cast aside by her father “You wouldn’t…” Elizabeth whispered, her voice trembling
Lydia’s eyes narrowed; they fixed on Elizabeth’s with fierce intensity “Try me” she said, her voice low “I will not allow you to speak to our sister like that”
Elizabeth swallowed; her stance clearly nervous; her defiance faltering; but pride was a stubborn beat “I won’t apologies; she isn’t even our real sister”
Chapter 4:
The tension in the room was palpable; Lydia grew visibly angered, she moved, the blade pressed forwards forcing Elizabeth to edge back; the group stood frozen at the dangerous situation developing “Excuse me?” Lydia questioned
“Elizabeth” Cathryn said with shock
Elizabeth realised what she had said, immediately regretting her choice of words as she edged back “No, No…, I…”
“Enough!” Xian shouted; his Manchurian accent – he knew though how delicate things had just become, he could see Cathryn’s horrified expression at her daughters’ words, sensed the emotions bubbling within Norina, and the dangerous anger boiling over for Lydia
Thomas also sensed what was a potential disaster unfolding as he gently moved his hand up, he placed his hand against Lydia’s arm – he expected her to shrug him off, but, his gently touch acted as a balance for Lydia – her focus was fixed, but faltered upon Thomas’ contact “She’s already regretting her choice of words” Thomas said softly, slowly easing her arm down
“We have more important things to discuss” Xian stated, moving slowly forwards – with Lydia’s sword being lowered, he moved between the two twins carefully; his eyes moved directly to Cathryn “We need to talk” he told her “It’s important”
Sensing the shift in momentum and eager to escape her sister – Elizabeth quickly followed Xian as he went with Cathryn to the back room, but Elizabeth now fell silent as she listened to Xian and Cathryn discuss things – though, her mind was elsewhere, she was regretting her choice of words as she sat down, she heard the conversation but nothing registered for her, leaning forwards as she placed her hand against her forehead.
Early Evening
Marley Hill, England
A chill wind had begun to pick up as Astor arrives; his multi-layered robe tugging around him as he walked purposely towards a building directly ahead of him, when he finally came to a stop by its door, he stood sideways to it, glancing about before banging his fist against the wooden door; his eyes scanning his surroundings carefully – when the door finally opened, a man welcomed him in, leading him deeper inside the non-assuming building.
“Welcome Astor” a man with a gruff voice said as Astor entered into a room; slowly, the individual stepped forwards, he was broad-shouldered – and while Astor’s very presence just seemed overwhelming, this man who greeted also radiated an air of ruthlessness
“James” Astor acknowledged; his voice low and even as he walked past him “Report?”
“Our operation at the Port of Tyne went well…, though we did suffer one loss” James said “Got himself shot”
“I told you already; it isn’t designed for bullets” he said, tapping his fist against James’ experimental armour he was wearing over his chest
“In the age of guns and we’re still unprotected” James chuckled “Anyway; we have caused massive chaos at the port, destroyed quite a lot of the crates that the Cultists were bringing into the country, so, we’ll have set them back a considerable amount”
“Any Artefacts?” Astor questions: crossing his arms as he came to a stop in front of the planning table, his gaze slowly moving over the maps and reports scattered around in a jungled mess
“No” James answered
“Astor nodded his head slowly “And what of the Anti-Cultists?”
James glanced to another man nearby, before returning his attention to Astor “They have set up a safehouse in Whickham” he picked a report up, passing it towards Astor
As Astor took it; his eyes roamed over its words carefully; he identified the names; Xian and Damir as the two he encountered in Leeds, they had been a disappointment in his eyes, barely a challenge for him, the names he next set his sights on was the names of the British soldiers; Thomas and Miquel, then the names of the twins; Elizabeth and Lydia – then, Cathryn “Hmm” he then noticed beneath the name of Norina; ‘Erin’ he tilted his head towards the side for a brief moment “Hmm…, the American” he commented
Returning his attention back to ‘Lydia’ he thought for a moment “Begin the next phase” Astor said, handing the report back “Let’s put them to the test”
Chapter 5:
17th of March 1910 A.D. – The Early Hours
Whickham, England
A chill crisp air bit at the exposed skin of Lydia’s face as she and Thomas wandered near the vicinity of the safehouse; Thomas believed a walk would be helpful to ease her still simmering anger as they discussed things that had happened; the walked beneath the bruised indigo sky, the ground crunching beneath them “She didn’t mean it Lydia” he said carefully “I think things have just built up and she let it out at the wrong person”
Lydia thought for a moment; he wasn’t exactly wrong; everything was becoming increasingly dangerous, incredibly stressful – so much was going on, so much danger and pressure; she could see her mother was struggling and that was a rare thing to see; slowly, Lydia nodded “Norina is our sister” she said quietly
“And she regretted that choice of words almost immediately after they left her mouth; I saw it in her eyes” Thomas said, he kept close as he watched Lydia’s expression carefully, he could see, despite the unreadable expression she was thinking – he had spent so much time trying to work her emotions out, it was beginning to become more and more noticeable to him despite how unreadable she was to other people, almost like he could sense what she thought
“She needs to apologies; and besides, so what if Norina likes Erin, what is wrong with her choice?” Lydia questions after some silence between them, her eyes drifting upwards towards Thomas; she hadn’t really paid that much attention before to their differing heights, it was only recently she had begun noticing, like so many other things about him, she couldn’t help but look at him closer than she realised she was doing
Thomas shrugged “I don’t think people like things that are different, that’s about it; to have the courage to be true may simply just be fear-inducing to people, things will change one day; but there will always be problems, it takes time” he said softly “It’s ridiculous notion that we can’t just accept people’s choices”
As they kept walking, something drew their attention; a movement, as they turned their attention towards a figure that emerged from the darkness.
Astor.
He stepped out directly in front of them; the gentle wind billowed his robes causing the bottoms to flutter around his legs; Lydia eyed him with an immediate sensation of feeling threatened – his presence simply overwhelmed the senses.
Lydia and Thomas were immediately on guard – Astor hadn’t spoken, he simply observed them carefully “Who are you; what do you want?” Thomas demanded, his voice tight
Astor remained silent; didn’t acknowledge the questions, he just stepped forwards – his steps deliberate and unnervingly quiet; Thomas quickly moved in front of Lydia “Stay back!” he warned
Astor ignored him though; he suddenly moved forwards before Thomas could react, moving faster than what should have been possible for someone wearing such bulky clothing; he had closed the distance in a heartbeat – before Thomas could react, Astor landed a swift, precise blow to his stomach – the air rushed from Thomas’ lungs; it made him drop down to his knee’s gasping for breath.
Lydia’s eyes widened as she felt a sudden urge to cry out “Thomas” was all she could say, and it escaped only as a whisper; her hand flew across towards the handle of the Jian sword as it hung from its tied position on her bag; her slender fingers wrapped around the hilt and she drew it – it whispered through the air sharply as she pulled it free from the scabbard – despite still recovering from her wounds, despite the pain she could feel – she wasn’t going to be backing down now.
Astor turned his attention to her; his eyes hidden by his hood – he assessed her carefully, taking note of subtle indicators in her movement, he could see the bandage on her hand, but her slight stagger indicated her injury to her ribs – but, he noted her determination, that resolve she was displaying, casually, he moved his hands behind his back – a gesture that seemed dismissive and threatening as he stepped forwards
Lydia’s fear took root as adrenaline surged; she swung the sword without hesitation.
Astor moved with an impossible grace as the Jian sword whistled passed him; he didn’t flinch; didn’t break his stride; his movements were economical, precise almost…, dance-like – Lydia, despite her increase panic and desperation managed to retain her calmness, she made quick jabs using the sword like a spear in moments while others she maintained more graceful and fluid movements despite edging backwards constantly – but Astor simply kept weaving, evading – testing her.
But Lydia’s exertion began to pull at her injury, she felt the wetness as her movements had reopened her wound, her face flinched; an indicator of pain becoming more noticeable; as she made yet another twisting movement, she felt a sharp pain fire up her side, she stumbled – her grip loosened.
That was all that was needed for Astor,
He struck swiftly; it was almost imperceptible – sidestepping her as he entered into her guard, his hand flashed out, he didn’t strike with force, but with precision, he struck a pressure point near her shoulder.
Chapter 6
Lydia gasped; her muscles seized; she dropped the Jian sword as she collapsed back, twisting slightly causing her to land hard on her side – a scream tore from her throat, a primal sound of pain and fear; it echoed out, cutting through the morning silence like a knife, a sound that instantly galvanised the occupants of the safehouse.
Cathryn was first to react – the sound of her daughter in pain propelled her into action, she came across the scene, assessing the situation quickly; Thomas on the ground clutching his stomach and Lydia lying prone and in clear agony with Astor standing over her – there was no hesitation as Cathryn shot forwards drawing her Kukri knife free and she flew straight into the fight.
Her movements were fast, swift and each swing Astor could hear the whisp of the blade cut through the air as he manoeuvred around; weaving easily to evade her movements; it was clear Cathryn was aiming for a killing strike.
Astor maintained his same calm composure; his movement remained fluid; fast – he evaded each strike with grace, sidestepping or repositioning where needed; though he was eventually forced to draw his own Kukri knife free, intercepting a strike – the blades clashing with a sharp, ringing sound – this was the first someone had managed to nearly land a strike on him, the tip of Cathryn’s kukri knife grazed Astor cheek, it had drawn blood.
Astor responded with a subtle but decisive shift in pressure; forcing Cathryn back; he disengaged as he returned his Kukri knife back to its sheath behind his waist, his gaze fixed on Cathryn, but he remained silent.
In the meantime, Xian had tried to find an opening – believing one had just come, he moved with practised stealth and made an attempt to grab Astor from behind, aiming to incapacitate him.
But Astor it seemed, had eyes in the back of his head; without turning, he kicked his leg backwards with lightning speed and accuracy, his heel connected with Xian, catching him squarely on the chest – it sent Xian tumbling as he grunted in pain, his face contorted in pain.
Astor’s eyes never once left Cathryn through the entire exchange; he had maintained eye contact, not once had he even glanced towards Xian – a deliberate display of dominance, a clear message that he was considering Cathryn as his primary opponent.
The air just crackled with increasing tension; Cathryn felt her chest heaving as she clutched her Kukri knife tightly in her hand, she stared at Astor trying to decipher his motives; what did he want, why was he attacking them.
Behind her, Elizabeth and Damir were emerging from the safehouse, weapon’s drawn as they came towards the escalating situation.
Written By: Westley H.
Leave a Reply