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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1942875-The-Slayer-and-the-Sphinx
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Fantasy · #1942875
A Slayer and a sphinx must work together if they wish to survive.
Chapter One
The Slayer

The building stood dark and foreboding against the colors of the setting sun. It had been abandoned for almost twenty years. Formerly a hotel, it had been closed due to a fire. The walls were a dull gray, with long streaks of black around the windows, now nothing more than memories of where the flames had escaped their confines. The whole premises still smelled of smoke. It truly was an eyesore, and the city officials had tried, time and time again, to obtain permission to demolish it, but had never succeeded. Due to its past, rumors and ghost stories abounded. To the boy walking up to the main entrance, though, all these things were meaningless. He had a reason to come here, and he would not leave until he was successful.
Entering the building, the boy slowly scanned the main room from one side to the other, not missing a single detail. Though there seemed to be nothing worth looking at, the gloomy sight spoke to the boy’s trained eye like the open pages of a book. A small layer of the dust covering the floor was thinner than the rest. Following the unassuming trail to the nearest stairway, he began to climb. The boy was only sixteen, but his early matured body made him look at least eighteen. He wore a pair of faded jeans and a dark blue t-shirt. He looked just like a normal teenager.
Reaching the third floor, the boy walked down the hallway until he came to a certain room. Here the dust seemed to have been swept away the slightest amount, showing that the door had been opened recently. The boy tested the doorknob, found it unlocked, and went inside. A girl was there, lying on the floor, fast asleep. She was wearing faded blue jeans and a white t-shirt that had turned gray over time. Her hair was a bright, fiery red. The boy crept over to her and, kneeling down, gently nudged her shoulder. Groaning, the girl slowly opened her eyes and sat up. If she was surprised to see the boy, she didn’t show it.
“Whaddya want?” she asked, her words slurred from sleepiness.
“I was just looking around,” the boy answered, “Who are you?”
“Reya Rukario, who’re you?”
“I’m Porter Collins. Why are you here?”
“I live here. What are you doing here?”
“I’m just looking around,” Porter answered, “Wanted to see if any of the stories were true.”
“You find anything?” A subtle smirk played on Reya’s lips.
“Just you. You wouldn’t happen to be a ghost, would you?”
“Not that I know of.”
“You live here, huh?” Porter asked, casting his gaze around the dilapidated, dusty room.
“Yeah. It’s not that bad, once you get used to it.”
“Why?”
A frown crossed Reya’s face, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Porter looked at her, concerned. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing you need to worry about. It’s just that I- I’m being chased by someone.”
“Who?”
“Some very bad people. That’s all you need to know.”
“But you’re safe here?”
“I think so. They haven’t found me yet.”
For a moment, Porter was silent. “Reya?” he asked.
“Yes?”
“I don’t think you need to worry about those people finding you here.”
“Why not?”
“Because I already have!” Porter yelled, whirling around, arm extended, effectively backhanding Reya in the face. Instead of knocking her to the ground, though, Reya was sent flying through the air. She did a backflip and landed on her feet, facing him. Porter reached into his front right pocket and began to pull something out. It was a sword.
“I knew it!” Reya spat.
“I figured you did,” Porter answered, casually.
“Why didn’t you kill me before? Why did you even bother waking me up?”
“Unlike you, I actually have a code of honor that I fight by. I don’t kill things while they’re asleep, no matter how despicable they are.”
“I’m despicable? I’m not the one murdering innocent creatures!”
“Innocent? You’re delusional. But you know what? I’m done talking. It’s not like it’s going to do you any good.”
“We’ll see about that!” Reya shouted, leaping at him. Before she even reached him, the girl Reya was gone, and in her place was a large, bright red fox with three tails, teeth bared, and claws unsheathed. Not alarmed in the least, Porter sidestepped her and swung his sword, leaving a light cut on her front, right shoulder. The fox growled in anger, then spun around and lunged at him again. Porter simply swung his sword a second time, leaving a gash in the side of Reya’s face.
“You really are pathetic, you know that?” Porter taunted her.
“Slayer dog!” Reya shouted.
“Kitsune scum,” Porter shot back.
Reya leapt at him again, but Porter already had the scene planned out in his mind. He stepped to the right, turned left to face Reya, and swung his sword downwards. Reya’s body thudded to the floor, and her head rolled a few feet before coming to rest.
“Too easy,” the Slayer chuckled, pulling a rag from his pocket to wipe the blood off of his sword. Putting the sword back where it came from, he pulled a cloth sack out of his pocket, reached down and grabbed Reya’s head, and dropped it inside. A song began to play from his left pocket. He reached in and pulled out a cell phone.
“Yeah?” he asked, answering it.
“The magic levels in the building have just gone down,” the voice on the other side said. It was an old man’s voice, but it spoke with strength and authority usually only found in younger people. “I take it your mission was successful?”
“Affirmative,” Porter answered.
“Excellent. Now bag the head and get back to base.”
“Yes, sir,” Porter answered, hanging up. Looking at his prize one last time, Porter smiled and began the walk out of the hotel.
© Copyright 2013 Adam Bolander (slayersphinx at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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