Laundry Day

Another morning caught Grey completely by surprise. He sat up suddenly, in a cold sweat, as if from a nightmare. <No ghosts, no ghouls, no demons, no angels, no witches.> Just his apartment. Plain, off-white walls, barred windows, floor cluttered with clothes up to a week old, <What day is it? Maybe it's laundry day.>
He rummaged through his drawers for a clean shirt. The only thing left was the Hawaiian shirt he wore last laundry day. Grabbing it and the least bloody pair of jeans on the floor, <Just a few drops, it's not mine, not too bad,> he made his way to the bathroom.
<I'm getting old fast.> As he looked and the weather beaten face in the mirror. The stress of battling demons for the past four years had weighed heavily upon his features. <Would anyone ever believe I'm only thirty years old?>
He splashed water on his face and, getting a whiff of himself, decided that deodorant would be a good idea. After Putting on his clothes, he walked to the kitchen for some coffee.
<Something's not right.> Gray took a quick inventory of his kitchen, <Stove, coffee maker, knives, fridge, table, window, fire escape, painting...fire escape!...ceiling... Move!>
He lunged forward landing hard on his hands and chest narrowly avoiding the blow-dart from the masked man above him. He was wrapped in close fitting black cloth from head to toe. The only exposed parts of his skin were around his eyes, hands and reptilian tail.
<Demon-ninjas!? This is getting ridiculous.> In one movement, both fluid and brutish, Gray lifted himself to a crouch, pulled the flatware drawer from it's slot and heaved it at the black-clad man. Losing the concentration required to stay affixed to the ceiling, the demonic assassin fell with an anticlimactic thump. The thump was followed immediately by the demon's miserable cry when it realized how many knives and forks it had landed on.
There was a time, many years ago, when Gray wouldn't even consider kicking a prone opponent. Five years ago, he would have hesitated to do so. At that moment however, he didn't leave a spare second between the moment he heard the cry and the delivery of the first kick to the ninja's ribs.
He caught sight of the ninja's sword and decided to go in for a closer look. Dropping his knee hard onto the demon's head he pulled the sword from it's sheath for closer inspection.
"I wonder how sharp this is?" He got to his feet, raised the sword over his head and brought it down again across his would be assassin's neck.
`<What was that?> Gray rushed to the window just in time to see a second demon rushing down the fire escape. With out thinking twice he climbed out the window onto the fire escape. Gray heard a small tinkling sound, like loosened bolts coming undone. <Clever bastard.>
The ageing wrought iron screamed as it began to fall.
Gray, liberated ninja sword in hand, jumped. Time was when a man jumped form a falling fire escape three stories high, he would die, that or at very least end up in a body cast. Gray, however, had a way of beating the odds. <Has this dumpster always been here?> he though as he pulled himself out of the steel trash receptacle.
The chase was on again when Gray saw the second demon-ninja hobbling away from the ruins of the fire escape. <He's limping and I'm not gaining on him. How fast are these guys normally?> The ninja jumped into on old black convertible and started the engine.
Gray spotted a biker about to mount his bike and yelled, "LAPD! I'm commandeering your vehicle!" <I can't believe I never did this while on the force.> Without waiting for a response from the biker, Gray snatched his keys and took off on the Harley.
The ninja wove through traffic without regard for the lives of the other drivers. Not having to avoid other cars, Gray began to gain on the fleeing assassin. Bike handle in one hand, sword in the other, he pulled even with the convertible. Without warning, the demon jerked the steering wheel harshly to the left.
Gray found himself hanging onto the back left door of the demon-ninja's car trying desperately to grab the sword that had fallen onto the floor partially under the front passenger seat.
When he finally managed to get himself into the car, the ninja was swinging his sword randomly at Gray while still trying to drive. As he grabbed the sword he was reaching for, the assassin's blade took on a life of it's own, freeing up the ninja to drive.
Gray sat up, sword readied, wishing for a better chance to position himself better and waiting for the floating sword to strike. When it finally did, rather than block the blow, he struck the demon's head with the pommel of his sword.
Pain ripped through Gray's side as the once floating sword fell and bit into his ribs.
There are a few things that come naturally to most humans. Specifically, the knowledge that running a red light at seventy miles per hour is dangerous. Especially when a tanker truck marked "Chevron" is crossing. This being the case, Gray opened the door and flung himself onto the unyielding pavement. He heard and felt the distinct sound of ribs breaking. Adrenaline replacing blood, Gray scrambled into an alleyway and collapsed in a corner.
The explosion that followed shook the pavement under Gray's broken ribs. In the aftermath, Gray pulled himself up and walked out to the street to wait for an ambulance.<Damn, I still don't have any clean clothes.>
By: Malken


Author's Note:
If you'd like to read more about William Gray, read: "Invalid Item"