The Girl With Metal Claws

Silhouettes

ELLIOTT

"Where are the others?" Meraki asked. She looked relieved.

"They ran the moment they were out of the building. The cops completely ignored us." Garry said. He supported himself against a wall and shut his eyes.

"You're pretty beat up," Jack said, observing him. He did look a little guilty for wanting to leave Garry behind.

"You should be the last one to tell me that," Garry chuckled lightly, squinting his eyes. Elliott looked at Jack. He was bleeding again and rain was washing it off.

"Let's go look for the car," he said. He took the lead as he walked towards the alley his car was parked in. They followed him, a little worried.

The moment they entered the lane, they saw the car standing intact and unharmed. Elliott stood as the others rushed towards it. Meraki helped Jack inside because he felt dizzy and Garry sat beside him. They smelled peculiar, of mud, injuries and drizzle.

"Meraki, take them back," Elliott said.

"Come in, Elliott," Jack muttered, not ready to send him alone to another one of his expeditions.

"I can't... I've unfinished business," Elliott said as he let himself smile. The three of them stared back at him like he was speaking in a different language.

"Come in before I drag you inside," Jack spewed more threats before giving up. He knew better than to stop Elliott because he wouldn't.

Elliott dug through his thin bag pack and fished out a book. He held it up and waved it at them. Their eyes shifted to the book and they realised that it was one of Gabrielle's tasks. She was the only person who could lead them so they dared not disobey her.

"Go," Elliott said. He wanted to go home as well. He wanted to feel safe. But, he stayed back as he watched Meraki and the others drive away till they were out of reach.

He felt the wind on his skin as it rained over him. He breathed in deep and turned around but no one looked back at him except the destructed and devastated empty street. He felt dazed.

~

The small house he stood before looked underwhelming. The house had just cement for its walls and a ceiling for its roof. He checked several times if he was at the right place, dripping wet.

Elliott walked up to and knocked on the door with his knuckles. He found himself shivering as the cold and harsh winds rose. It took a minute before the door flung open aggressively. A short and skinny man, wearing a tank t-shirt showed up.

"Hello, I'm here to meet Mrs Meredith Lin Taylor," Elliott said, strangely panting as he held onto the doorframe.

"You can't come in," the man said, giving him a look of disapproval.

"Sir... I came from a long way..", he said, trying to convince him but the man had no intention to give him a chance.

"You're damp and greasy. I'm not allowing someone like you in my house," the man said putting up an act of superiority.

Elliott frowned and looked over the man's shoulder. The floor of his house was muddier than the street itself and the clothes and utensils peeked out from every corner of the ground.

"It's really urgent," Elliott said, giving him a forced but pleading smile. The man was too stubborn and his gaze seemed too calculative.

"No, you can't-", the man was about to speak some more when a booming voice thundered from inside. It was the voice of a woman in fury.

"YOU PIG, HOW MANY TIMES DID I TELL YOU TO NOT CHASE OFF PEOPLE?" The woman, her hoarse voice like the devil, came up to the door and caught the poor skinny man by his neck. He struggled to get her to let him go.

The woman, Meredith Lin Taylor, looked at Elliott and his aghast expression. She gave him an eerily polite smile.

"I.. was just calling him inside..", the man said trying to get back to the house.

"I heard everything, you useless brat. Go inside and pull out the couch," Meredith said. Then she tossed him aside and he ran inside. Meredith was rather on the larger side in contrast to the man. "That was my husband, Van. Ignore him."

Meredith turned around and walked inside, Elliott deliberately followed her in. He felt speechless.

The interior of the house was like that of a travel van. Everything was clustered and there was very little space to stand. The walls had little windows and they had a folded couch attached to the wall.

"What brings you here?" She said, sitting on the plastic chair while he sat on the rock-hard couch. He didn't say anything except to pass on the book to her.

She put on her glasses which had one lens and the other was broken. She flipped through the pages and found the paper that Gabrielle had put inside. Elliott saw her frown and then a smile covered that up.

"Gabrielle sent you..", she trailed off. Then, she shut the book and got up. "Hey Van, be useful for once and open up the basement."

Meredith looked at Elliott and signalled him to follow her. That was the thing about the city of Wellspring. The people might live in the worst possible conditions but everyone had secrets buried under their houses. Everyone had something to hide.

The city was fed on the dark alleys and the secrets underneath. Elliott knew these were things that made Wellspring, the origin of all evils.

Van opened the basement door and left immediately. Meredith led Elliott inside. The dim yellow light and brown closed walls made him feel dizzy. But as he looked around, he saw shelves and numerous books. Little jars, enclosed boxes and strange artefacts filled the room. It didn't look particularly well-kept.

"You.. are a shaman?" Elliott said with disbelief.

"Do I not look like one?" She asked, c*****g an eyebrow at him.

"I thought shamans are-", he started.

"Polite and pious?" Meredith asked and Elliott nodded. "Bullshit. Don't stereotype me into that category."

She referred to the paper Gabrielle sent her as she dug through her dusty shelves. Elliott looked at the ancient things around him. Was all their courage going to pay off?

Just then, Meredith walked to him and handed him a black book with a rotten bind because the papers kept falling out of it.

"Give it to Gabrielle and she'll understand," she said, taking a moment before she let Elliott have the book.

"What is it?" He asked.

"Gabrielle would know," she said, turning away from him.

"I want to know. I've worked hard enough to reach you. You have to tell me," Elliott said, acting up. Meredith glared at him but she let out a sigh.

"It's... about her and her origin." She closed her eyes for a split second.

"Her?" Elliott asked.

"I can't spell her name," she stared dead-eyed at him till he nodded. He wanted her to say Asami's name because he wanted to know what was there to be terrified of.

Elliott had spelt her name in his thought, out loud and in front of her but nothing had changed. No.. he shook his head, realising.

Everything had changed.

Meredith turned away once again and looked at the clock placed over one of the piles of books. She gasped a little.

"Van? Go to the shop and buy the eggs already! Do you want me to die screaming?" She yelled at the top of her voice. Elliott heard Van's panicked footsteps like he was immediately ready to go.

Suddenly, a rough thunder blazed, making the house buzz. The rain was getting worse. Meredith turned a little restless as she called out again.

"Don't leave the house! I don't need you fried. Funerals cost a lot." She said. The women loved the concept of dying, Elliott thought to himself. But she cared for her husband.

After a moment of him looking around and Meredith scanning him in secret, she walked up to him.

"You should leave," she said. Elliott was a little taken aback.

"The rain... I don't have an umbrella or a car..", he said, hoping she would let her stay. But considering that he was in his wet clothes all that while without the woman asking him for anything, he didn't expect much.

"You can't stay here. You'll be safer outside than here," she said with a grim look on her face. He scowled a little even if he understood that she was being serious. He had no choice.

As soon as Elliott left the house, the door cautiously shut behind him. The sky was darker than it was, the night had already arrived and the rain only grew. He was cold and shuddering. Now, he just had to get home.

He started walking back.

~

Elliott sat on his bed after putting on some clean clothes. His throat felt sore, hinting at a cold. But in the back of his head, he was jittery.

He looked down at his hands, unscathed. Not a mark could be seen. Nothing hurt, nothing proved that he had taken risks. He shook his head thinking of the predicament he was in.

Suddenly, something crossed his mind. His hands ruled themselves as they slipped into his bedside table's drawer. Then, he took out a kitchen knife. He had kept it there because he did have no kitchen in his small insignificant apartment.

He held the knife over his left arm and slowly squinted his eyes shut. He wasn't reckoning, not anymore.

Elliott lowered the knife and set it on the skin of his arm. He pushed it against his membrane and winced as soon as he felt the sting. Then he moved it further down, creating a scar. He opened his eyes as his arm felt numb. The pain felt alive.

He put aside the knife and clutched at the wound. Deep down, he believed that the pain would stay for a couple of minutes and then it would evaporate like his other injuries. He just wanted to know if it was real. He wanted to see it for himself.

He laid down on his bed, waiting. He wouldn't get diverted. But as his head hit the pillow, his head felt heavy and his legs felt numb. He was tired was the only thing he knew.

And even after fighting to stay awake, he unconsciously drifted off to sleep.

~

A siren blaring. The noise of ambulances and police cars merging into one another. Shattered glass, broken barricades and people spilling out of everywhere to see the view.

What a view it was!

Police take the people, shoving them into the ambulances and driving away. The wailing and cries of people for a little empathy and him.

He watched the only two people he had, being taken away. He could only stand and watch. And wave and pray.

~

Elliott's eyes snapped open, staring wildly around. He was exasperated but relieved to wake up from that nightmare. He had seen that dream after a long time. He dreaded it.

He felt his arms itch, making him look down. His eyes widened as he saw his wound stitching up on its own. Soon, the scar faded and it was his unharmed arm again.

Bewildered, he looked around the room, feeling his skin creep up.

He turned to the window and rushed to push it wide open. He stared outside at the darkness and rain. Peering about, his eyes fell straight ahead.

Across his building, stood another building. The window just opposite his was wide open. And then he saw the dark silhouette on the window, gazing right at him.

He knew what he had to do.