"I don't know." The muscles in her jaw twitch as she grits her teeth. "The sword hurts it. It's the only reason I'm still alive. It would have skewered me the first time I fought it if the light and the blade weren't at least uncomfortable. But I don't even know what it is." She uses the chairs of the theatre to help herself to her feet.
There's a roar and a screech of metal. The mangled catwalk crashes down onto the stage.
"Little mice." The creature's voice is almost painful. "Your holes are too shallow."
The curtains blast away from the stage as it careens through the overhang holding them up, a massive and sick parody of a hawk, feathers too thin, beak too sharp, each claw the size of Murphy's forearm. She holds the blade low, keeping its light to a minimum as it thunders down on them again.
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Date: 2010-01-14 07:57 am (UTC)There's a roar and a screech of metal. The mangled catwalk crashes down onto the stage.
"Little mice." The creature's voice is almost painful. "Your holes are too shallow."
The curtains blast away from the stage as it careens through the overhang holding them up, a massive and sick parody of a hawk, feathers too thin, beak too sharp, each claw the size of Murphy's forearm. She holds the blade low, keeping its light to a minimum as it thunders down on them again.