The Girl With Metal Claws

Moonlit

ELLIOTT

Elliott felt like he was being wronged by not being told what he should feel. As he stared at the unmoving silhouette of someone he unfortunately knew, he was too conflicted to think straight.

He involuntarily snatched up the kitchen knife, even if he doubted that it'd help, and he left his apartment. He ran down the stairs, shivering with a heaved head.

The next thing he realised was that he had left his building behind and he was charging into the building he had seen her in. The building had recently come into being and it was under construction. The building had the framework but nothing of the interior was made yet. The vague outlet of the stairs led Elliott up.

The knife he had kept clutched in his hands felt powerless as he stood at the doorway, staring into the large room. The room had no furniture nor window panes and was roughly made. But even in the darkness, he could see her outline as the moonlight illuminated her presence.

Elliott realised that he wasn't trembling at the mere sight of her, but he was just uncertain of what she might do.

"I was watching you," she said. He couldn't see her face but he could tell that she was smiling. Her smiles meant nothing. It just felt like a mockery of his helplessness.

"I don't know if you're crazy or just a psychopathic. I try to think and think again about how to get you out of my head, but I don't know how." Elliott said, even though it sounded more like a pitiful confession. "But now I'm looking at you, and I know why. Because you're doing it purposely. You're treating my wounds, saving my life even if you're the reason for all of my near-death experiences. You're carving your name in my head."

Silence.

"Why.. just, why?" Elliott felt his voice shake as he stared at her silver face. He could see her eyes staring somewhere over his shoulder. She had no intention to answer.

"Do you want to stab me again?" She said, looking at the knife he had. Her voice sounded bland. "Are you afraid that I'd hurt you?"

Elliott said nothing, suddenly embarrassed that she had noticed it.

"Come here," she said with a low voice as she held her hand out. For a moment, Elliott looked at her frail ashed hands and he could feel an urge inside him telling him to hold it.

He believed the voices in his head were hers too. She was controlling him in ways from which he couldn't redeem himself.

Elliott walked up and stood in front of her, trying to keep a bold face. She smiled and put her hand back, turned down. He raised an eyebrow at her even if he was secretly nibbling the hem of his shirt to not lose his mind to her control.

Asami took her time as her unsettled eyes travelled everywhere but him.

"If you touch me with the knife, I'll leave." She said. Her voice held composure but something heavier underneath.

If Asami was being truthful and Elliott could let her out of his head, he would do anything.

He took no time as he raised the knife and swung it at her. Just as it was about to touch her skin, she disappeared. He looked to his side to spot her standing at a distance.

Elliott ran up to her and jabbed the knife near her abdomen but she had moved, again. Bewildered, he started swinging the knife everywhere she stood.

"Elliott Walters, 17, a student in the Ellesmore School." Her voice echoed from every corner of the room as he continued to chase after her and hurt her. Only, to get her to leave.

"Average, a poor underground detective and an orphan," she kept on speaking, never letting Elliott come near.

"Don't..", Elliott muttered as he kept charging for her, jabbing and swinging the knife recklessly. His legs were tired, his whole body felt condensed. But he kept trying.

"Lara and David Walter, such honourable people," she said. Elliott could hear the smirk in her voice, making his blood boil. He hated how the names sounded in her mouth.

"Died pitifully. Isn't it, Elliott?" Asami said, testing his limit, infuriating him.

"I told you to stop," Elliott raised his voice. He swivelled the knife, stumbling but getting back up each time she disappeared. But her voice never faltered.

"Shot to death. The people never got caught," she let out a disdainful laugh. "I don't know what's more pathetic. Their sorry selves or their worthless existence in your life."

Elliott had built up resentment, pretending to be oblivious to everything around him like it'd be easier if it didn't matter. Never in his life had someone dragged out every wound he had and started scraping at them so that it'd burn a hole inside him.

He realised that he was shaking with anger, his hands unable to work how he wanted. He thrust the knife at her shadow one more time but she moved again.

But this time, she had come closer to him. Her face resided a few inches away from him and she stared at his eyes. He froze. His hand clutching the knife was held out and in one swift move, he could hurt her.

"Don't you think so too?" She said, in her weak shrill voice.

"No," he said.

"You didn't even love your parents, not enough," Asami said, her smile evergrowing. She took another step closer to him. "Do you not find it unfair?"

Elliott stared at the pale whiteness of her face and the dead colour in her eyes. She tells him that he doesn't love the only two people he had. She tells him that it wasn't enough. He shuts his eyes for a couple of seconds and then opens them. His tenacious gaze held her in his eyes.

"Are you insecure?" He said, the words coming out as a whisper. Elliott saw her smile fade.

He slowly moved the knife and pressed it against her back. The tip of the knife touched her back, against her blue clothes. He watched her face falter as she realised that she was trapped and.. defeated.

They were standing too close, Elliott realised. Her cold breath seemed to pierce through his skin. A crooked smile crawled up her face again and Elliott backed away. He broke away from her manipulative gaze.

"You have to own up to what you said before," Elliott said as he held up the knife, indicating that he had defeated her.

"If you want me to, I'll go," she said. She moved closer to the window sill, her chest rising and falling.

"Go ahead, then," he said. But somehow, it didn't feel right.

"I still want you to join me," she said, with her back turned to him.

"You can't say that when I asked you to leave," Elliott's voice was cold and inferred.

She turned around and quietly walked to him. Asami stood in front of Elliott, staring at him.

"You won't know till you get a taste of it." She raised her hands and in the slightest move, her fingers touched his face, trailing down to his cheeks. Elliott flinched as his eyes widened. Her fingers felt too cold against his skin and he felt his face numbing.

She pulled herself back and started walking past Elliott. Then she stopped and turned her face in his direction.

"I'll wait for you. 8 am. Then I'll take you places.. with me," her smirk said something different than what she was speaking of. But Elliott was rather intimidated.

"What do I gain from it?" He asked.

"A lot. But you'll only know if you come to me," she said.

"I know this is a bait."

"It is. But you won't regret falling for it."

He turned to look at her and for the first time, he saw her eyes gleam silver. Her lips were crooked and white hair blew behind her. The rain had stopped but the wind didn't. And for a moment, he felt even that was her doing.

"Where?" He said. Even if he dreaded the thought of meeting her again, he found himself trying to know the place she'd be at.

"You already know..", she said.

And then, just like the thin air, she disappeared. She left behind no traces besides her cold touch on Elliott's skin.

He turned around and stood at the window frame, looking up. The clouds had dissipated but the smell of rain didn't.

Elliott clutched the sill and breathed out steam.

~

Morning, 7 am.

"39 policemen found dead in the Westwood Central Police Station along with some officials and prisoners. The other prisoners have fled which is another rising threat to the city's safety. Wellspring is in a state of alert...", the TV channel announced over and over again.

They kept showing blurred pictures of the ash-skinned, rotten corpses in police uniforms. They looked worse than what Elliott had seen them like.

He kept staring at the wall in front of him, hours rolling by. The news kept repeating itself again and again. He felt lost.

~

Morning, 10 am.

Elliott was aware. He was well aware of what he had missed. But he knew better than to believe she waited for him.

Even if he had no choice, he'd refrain from deliberately falling for her manipulative words. Even if it meant that those voices would chew up his brain, screaming at him to go to her and let himself go. He wanted to rein over the little control he had over himself.

~

Afternoon, 2 am.

Elliott picked up his bag pack and phone and rushed out of his apartment. He had received a message that school was reopening the next day and everyone had to be there for investigation.

He was quick on his feet as he almost ran his way to the Spring Market. He slowed down, hiding under his overcoat as he slipped into the alley.

Elliott reached the basement and entered it. He was hoping to find Meraki, Isis and Nish. He wanted to plan everything out with them in case they got caught in suspicion for what happened in school several days ago. The fire, the destroyed library and the captives in the canteen.

If not anyone else, Elliott was sure about himself getting into trouble.

But, to his surprise, he found no one. The basement was left empty and desolate.

So, he sat at the table and waited for anyone to show up. He left numerous texts to everyone but no one seemed to respond. It felt like they had disappeared altogether.

~

Long, tiring hours passed. No sign of anyone. Neither Fred who almost lived in the basement.

He got up as the clock hit 11 at night. He had done nothing and the next day, he was probably going to be rusticated from school. He had nothing to defend himself with.

Elliott left the basement and walked away with his hands tucked in his pockets. He realised he didn't feel like going home. He looked up at the clear night sky with stars that were only visible if he looked close enough. He lowered his head and let out a sigh.

The next thing he knew, he was walking to 43 Joseph Street with the monotonous thing in his mind.

Her.