Author's Note: This fic now actually has a plot of sorts, before it was pure comedy value. Hope you few who have me on Author Alert, and thereby the only ones likely to ever read this, enjoy it.
Scrooge sniffed the air. Smell wasn't a particularly powerful sense for humans but there was no mistaking the electrifying smell of ozone, thick and acrid on the air.
He got up from his chair, drawing a dagger from a sheath at his hip. While the majority of his armoury was elsewhere he did still have a few weapons about the house, even immortality hadn't managed to blunt the adventurer's fighting edge completely.
He'd been around magicians long enough to know the smell of a portal, not a teleport rift, quickly opened and just as quickly closed, a stable rip in the dimensions.
As he took a step towards the door he felt the faintest touch on both sides of his neck.
Shadow opened the door as silently as possible, cursing to himself. The intel had been sketchy at best, not that Scrooge could be blamed of course but still, he would have preferred something better than 'It was really quiet and really fast.', admittedly Scrooge was being a lot more informative than the other corpses the creature had accumulated. Fifteen drained of blood in broad daylight, including two werewolves and a vampire. Which ruled out a vampire killing spree, no vampire Shadow knew of would drink werewolf blood without another option, apparently the taste was repulsive.
As the door swung open swiftly and noiselessly, Shadow having spent the last minute carefully oiling the hinges.
Behind him came his squad, each hand-picked, veteran fighters reforged under Shadow's training to be some of the most efficient killers on the planet. Shadow's own reply to the remaining Reapers still seeking to realise The Rose's dream.
Scrooge followed up at the rear, the adventurer slow and clumsy when contrasted against the killers he was amongst. He didn't understand any of the hand signals that were quietly passing back and forth the squad and simply didn't comprehend how anything could constitute a threat to them. They had weapons he'd never even dreamed of before he'd walked through the portal, they could move quieter than a dying breather, fight at speeds almost too fast for him too follow.
Shadow on the other hand wasn't quite so confident, something deep in his gut was screaming at him that he was in mortal peril, carefully he unsheathed his katana's, activating his exoskeletal armour – the mechanical suit would enhance his already formidable speed and strength, at least until it ran out of power.
He saw it out of the corner of his eye. Even as he dived aside, yelling.
"Contact!" And then there wasn't even time for thought.
Shadow backed slowly down the hallway, seeking the more open space of the living room, his blades a blur of steel in front of him as he blocked strikes he was barely even able to see, fighting on almost pure reflex, his body reacting to slight movements faster than his mind could.
Behind him Scrooge was reloading his crossbow, not his trusty bone-adamant cross, a gift from Zanik from way back in his past, and with more than a couple of modifications to it. This crossbow was a runite frame on magic wood. Nothing special, nor were the bolts. So far the steel had done nothing but irritate the humanoid figure they were fighting, the creature moving too quickly to get a good look at it.
When it had struck in the study two of their number had been killed before they'd had time to draw weapons. Three of the squad had moved automatically to take the creature on, head-to-head. The creature had crushed the chest of one of them before the first sword had descended towards it, unfortunately the human wasn't biologically capable of surviving such an injury, nor was the vampire able to survive having it's head plucked from it's shoulders by a strong punch.
The third retreated as Shadow had moved to engage it, the former assassin's katana rebounded off rock like skin. From then on he'd been on the defensive, retreating as his squad did likewise. The fearsome ten – now six – not quite routed but certainly demoralised as their leader held the creature at bay.
Finally Shadow reached the living room. His squad behind him, assorted firepower aimed at the doorway, just waiting for him to move aside.
Shadow blocked one last punch, his katanas visibly warped by the fight, he dived aside, blocking a kick with his blades even as he went for the floor.
Gunfire erupted, the dull snap of Scrooge's crossbow lost in the din. The creature lurched back, the kinetic force of the gunfire pinning it to the wall.
For the first time they got a good look at it and nearly forgot to keep firing. It looked like just an ordinary teenage girl. A bit pale perhaps but that was all.
And it wasn't dying, all the gunfire was doing was preventing it reaching them, despite the teflon coating on the steel rounds the bullets were barely scratching her.
One dropped the M4 and brought up a shotgun, this particular model was an automatic with thirty shells. He emptied the entire magazine into it. All he got for his efforts was a snarl.
Shadow could visibly see his nerve go as he turned to run. There was nothing for it. "Retreat!"
The fear was a hard knot in his stomach, the squad leaving one at a time as their primary firearms ran dry, still managing to maintain some discipline. A fleeing witch handed him both their secondaries, a pair of P90s, along with a handful of magazines.
Shadow signed a thankyou as he went down on one knee to join the three (plus Scrooge) that were left. He put one of the guns on the floor, then fired into the creature, three shot bursts to conserve his ammo. As another fled, the force against it reduced that little bit more, the creature took a step forwards. Outwardly displaying a calm he certainly wasn't feeling, Shadow picked up the second P90.
"Just go!" He ordered the other two. They didn't need telling twice.
As the last of his Blades fled the room, Shadow pulled the triggers of the two guns, his exoskeletal armour giving his arms the strength cope with the recoil.
The creature advanced slowly, the two weapons enough to force it slightly backwards with each step it took. There was a dull click as one gun ran dry. The girl advanced mercilessly, the promise of slow death in her blood red eyes.
Shadow met her gaze, his fear gone now that he knew he was going to die. All that remained was to sell his life as dearly as possible.
There was a sound like silk ripping. The girl's head rolled off her shoulders where Scrooge's longsword had cleaved straight through her neck.
The body collapsed slowly.
Shadow picked his swords back up before throwing them down in disgust. The two blades, which had served him well for almost a decade, were ruined beyond repair.
"Thank you." He said absently to Scrooge, staring at the corpse. "What do you think it was?"
Scrooge opened his mouth to answer when a movement caught his eye. With a quick kick he punted the head to the other side of the room. "Not dead yet." He stated blankly.
Author's Note: Please R&R