Ice Queen (Part Three)

Kai

The mullet guy decides to be the first. He sprints toward me with the kind of speed and precision I've only seen in anime—yes, I've done my research.

His knife glints in his right hand. "Make this fun for me," he says, his voice low and menacing.

He swings, but I manage to dodge by stepping back just enough. I aim a kick at his ankle, hoping to knock him off balance, but he recovers unnaturally fast, like his body doesn't obey the usual rules.

Before I can react, he punches me below the armpit—a sharp, shocking pain that makes me gasp—and follows it up with a stab aimed straight for my chest.

No chance.

I grab his wrist mid-swing, stopping the blade inches from my body, and counter with a hard punch to his face. His head snaps to the side, but when he looks back at me, I freeze for a moment.

His eyes aren't human.

They're slitted, cold, and unblinking—the unmistakable eyes of a reptile.

Don't tell me you're afraid now. Ha, hi, ah." Even his laugh is strange—broken, almost reptilian.

His colleagues are probably laughing too, but they don't step in. They're just standing there, enjoying the show.

I lose focus for a split second, and he takes full advantage of it. His fist slams into my stomach, hard enough to knock the wind out of me. Before I can recover, he swipes his knife and nicks me—nothing deep, but it's too close for comfort.

I grit my teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing me cry out. He tries to drive the blade deeper into my flesh, but I act fast.

I knee him hard in the family jewels. His growl of pain is as satisfying as it is unsettling.

Luna's training flashes through my mind. Without hesitating, I push his hand—and the knife—away from my chest. Grabbing his wrist firmly, I pivot, pulling his arm over my shoulder and using his own momentum to throw him to the ground.

He lands flat on his back with a loud thud, the knife slipping from his grasp.

I kick the knife away from his reach and take a few steps back. No way I'm getting into a wrestling match with him, especially with five other rats waiting to jump in.

"Ugh," he groans, struggling to get up. Well, get up is a bit of an overstatement—he pushes himself onto all fours, crouching like an animal.

"Whoa, did you lose all common sense?" I ask, but he doesn't respond.

I glance at Mr. Eyepatch—my personal nickname for him. "Hey, does he bite?"

Mr. Eyepatch smirks, but he doesn't say a word or make a move.

"You're dead now," the reptilian guy growls, his voice low and feral.

He lunges at me with alarming speed, faster than any normal human should be able to move. I barely have time to react, throwing myself to the side as his claws—or fingers, I'm not even sure anymore—graze my shoulder.

I roll onto my feet and glare at him. "Alright, you've officially crossed the line into creepy."

He hisses, literally hisses, like some kind of feral beast. His movements are erratic now, as if he's lost the ability to think and is acting purely on instinct.

I can feel the others watching, their quiet laughter prickling the back of my neck. They're treating this like some sick form of entertainment.

"Do you always let him off the leash like this?" I shout, keeping my eyes locked on the reptilian guy.

Mr. Eyepatch smirks again but doesn't answer. The twins exchange glances, one of them shrugging like this is totally normal behavior.

Great.

Reptile-boy charges again, swiping at my legs. I jump back, barely dodging the attack, but the dizziness hits me hard. No, not now. My knees buckle, and I collapse to the ground.

"That would be the effect of my venom," he sneers, smirking like he's already won.

Shit.

He dashes toward me, ready to strike, but stops abruptly. Confused, I glance over my shoulder—and freeze. A massive lion towers behind me, its golden mane shimmering in the dim light. For a split second, fear grips me, but then it clicks. Mirage.

She's awake.

A gunshot rings out, sharp and precise. Reptile-boy's head jerks to the side as blood splatters the ground. A headshot. I turn to see Luna, her revolver steady in her hands, a determined glint in her eyes.

"Nice to have you back," I say, my voice shaky as the dizziness refuses to let up.

"Now would be a great time to run," she says, her voice measured but strained.

"Can you run?" I ask, already knowing her answer.

"I wasn't talking about me, and you know that," she mutters, her tone laced with annoyance.

"Well," I say, forcing myself to my feet despite the spinning in my head and the ache in my chest. "Then I'm staying too."

"Fucking idiot," she says with a soft chuckle, shaking her head.

Ignoring the pain, I lift my arm toward the remaining enemies, motioning with my fingers for them to step forward.

"Next!" I shout, the challenge clear in my voice.