Dirty Little Animals

Above the black buffs shrouding half their faces, the four pairs of fierce eyes glowered at him menacingly. "Who the fuck are you?" a female voice demanded.

You've got to be fucking kidding me. I came home to avoid trouble, but trouble has broken in to find me. Scowling, Cardin took a step forward. "That's my ques–"

There was a whirring sound, and then a dull thud at Cardin's feet. Starting back, Cardin looked down to see a small throwing knife embedded into the floor just in front of him.

"Stay where you are." One of them, a male with short-cropped dark curls and pale green eyes, had his arm outstretched towards him. He had moved so quickly that Cardin had barely registered the gesture before the knife had struck.

So they were armed, and hostile. He grimaced.

The wisest thing to do would have been to quickly exit the house, run to safety and contact Keary. But, too pissed off from the events of the day, Cardin didn't even pause to consider this. Swiftly, he bent to retrieve the knife, and from that moment, there was no more time to think, simply to move, to fight, and to survive.

Before he could rise, there came a shout, and found one of them upon him, short neon-blue hair brandishing a long metal staff. Instinctively, he rolled away, right before the staff landed with a resounding thwack on the spot he had been just a moment ago.

He saw the curly-haired figure fling his arm out toward him again, and rolled aside once more, barely avoiding the second throwing knife that hit the wall behind him. Quickly grabbing the new knife, Cardin spun around just in time to parry a series of attacks from the third stranger, who twirled what looked like two metal fans.

As the stranger advanced towards him, the fans spinning and slashing through the air, he managed to find a gap in the attack. Moving aside at the last moment as the stranger dashed in toward him, he went low, swinging his foot in a sweeping arc to trip his attacker, who fell with a loud thud and an exclamation of shock, long black locks splayed around her.

Cardin raised a hand, intending to pin the attacker's shoulder to the ground with one of the throwing knives, when a loud crack ripped through the air and something stung his hand. The throwing knife flew and clattered in the far corner of the room, but he barely had time to wince before something rope-like wrapped itself around his wrist and yanked so that he stumbled. Twisting, he saw that the cord on his arm now connected him to the fourth black-clad intruder, a tall, slim figure with a long braid of platinum-blonde hair.

He ducked to avoid a third throwing knife before he heard another shout. The blue-haired punk was charging toward him once more with her staff, which seemed to have lengthened. Gritting his teeth, Cardin seized the cord on his wrist, jerking it out of the tall intruder's grasp as he spun inward and away from the oncoming staff attack.

Just as the staff was about to meet the ground, he stamped down on it with one foot, and kicked the blue-haired girl with the other, so that she released the weapon with a yelp as she flew backward. Deftly, he kicked the abandoned shaft up into his hands, just in time to deflect the fourth knife flying toward him before turning to the black-haired girl with the fans as she rushed in.

The intensity of the fight heightened. Cardin, now armed with the staff, was better able to block, parry and attack, even as the four intruders rushed at him in turn. Even weaponless, the blue-haired girl continued to set upon him with rapid kicks and punches.

Hyper-alert to every movement from the four intruders, Cardin seemed to see everything at once, and as the battle went on, he felt as if the four of them were slowing. In reality, he was the one who was reading their movements and intentions more and more quickly, anticipating and responding intuitively, as if he had been dancing with danger all his life. However, because he defended too speedily and the four were too well-coordinated and relentless, neither side was able to land a decisive strike.

"Cyclone, find me an opening!" the green-eyed boy hissed.

"What the hell do you think I've been trying to do?" the blue-haired girl snapped, before launching herself at Cardin. She tried to wrench her weapon from him, but he easily made her fall back once more before he paused to lean just out of reach of the spinning fans. "He's just too fucking fast!" she screamed in frustration.

"Just hold him back a little longer," the tall figure murmured. "Steel and Joker will be here soon."

Reinforcements? Cardin thought. As if on cue, he heard footsteps coming up to the front door as he dodged and knocked away the pieces of furniture that they were hurling at him. In that case…

He threw some extra strength into fending off the flurry of fans coming towards him, then whipped towards the door right behind him as it began to open, but stopped suddenly when he caught a familiar flash of reddish-brown hair.

"Don't come in!" he shouted in alarm, as he saw the curly-haired intruder wind back his arm. "It's dangero–"

A loud ping rang out in the middle of the air. Cardin flinched back, holding the staff in front of himself in a defensive gesture, but the throwing dagger spun to the ground with a thud, and what looked like a poker card fluttered down beside it as Nigel entered, amber eyes burning in the darkened room as he stood between Cardin and the intruders.

"What the fuck is going on here?" he shouted.

It was the first time Cardin had seen him angry. He opened his mouth to explain, but another voice cut him off.

"Blondie here barged in out of nowhere!"

Cardin spun towards the girl with the blue hair who had spoken, but Nigel barked, "Cardin is here as Keary's guest! Are you prepared to answer for any injury you inflict on him?"

Wait, Nigel knows these guys? Bewildered, Cardin turned to Nigel. Looking at him now, the blue-eyed boy only just realised that his friend was dressed in the same black suits that the other four were wearing. Is he in charge of them? What's going on?

But he wasn't the only one confused. "Cardin? Cardin Rasheville??" The girl's hazel eyes widened and she pointed an indignant finger. "Wait, that's him?? The guy Keary asked me to search up???"

"Uh oh. Did you just let us attack Steel's new pet, Cyclone?" the tall braided figure drawled.

Pet?? Cardin scowled, but before he could retort, Nigel yelled, "Stop fucking around and let's go!"

"But we're still waiting for St–"

"If you'd answered your fucking phones you'd know, Keary got spotted while he was scouting the location," Nigel growled. "We need to move out, now!"

There was a scramble for the door. Nigel turned to Cardin, his hand outstretched.

"May I have that?"

Cardin gripped the staff. "Keary's in trouble?"

Nigel hesitated. "He's been leading them around the city in a chase, but there's just one of him and they've been closing in, so we need to back him up quickly. Can I have the staff?"

"I'll go with you."

"No." Nigel's tone was brusque. "Stay here. Lock all the doors and windows. We'll take care of this. The staff, please."

Reluctantly, Cardin relinquished the weapon. Nigel tossed it to Cyclone, who caught it and deftly retracted it before tucking it into her suit.

"Nice fighting, kiddo. I won't show any mercy next time!" she chirped as she rushed out of the house. With a last look back at Cardin that clearly warned him to stay put, Nigel closed the door behind him, and Cardin found himself alone in the ringing silence.

...