Nostra Cruciatus by Orin Drake
It's... something, alright.
To her credit, she did not look back even once. In fact, she hardly kept her eyes open; all of her energy and strength went into pumping her legs as fast as they would carry her through the wet streets. She had full faith that the spirit of the warrior would guide her.
A growing mob of guards and soldiers trailed behind her. Bigger and stronger, maybe, but they had armor to carry with them. She was a quick, petite, and disturbingly fearless medium for souls--there was simply no slowing her down when she was on a roll.
Of course, the people that guarded the city knew the streets a lot better than either she or the warrior; she'd never been there, and the warrior's days of remembrance were long gone. No matter. She insisted that her reliance was well placed, letting instinct ride and never once slamming into wall nor person. There were a few close calls with large holes in the cobblestone streets, but her eyes were closed too tightly to have seen them. Luckily.
The yelling of the men behind her was almost enough to be distracting as she suddenly skidded around a corner. She knew better than to stop, of course. It wasn't as if they'd simply arrest her. Granted, that was her own fault... but this had to be done. She only hoped that Brandon and Jerico would be waiting for her when the time was right... otherwise she'd make sure to tell the guards all about them. Hey, they deserved to be killed right along with her, now, didn't they? Charming thought as the air in her lungs burned, her legs beginning to ache as though the muscle was being shredded.
Following her instincts and traces of inspiration from the warrior, she immediately ducked into an unseen alley--slamming into a large pile of recently rained-upon cardboard boxes. Instead of a crash, it gave rather a dull thud of a sound; and she rolled with it, hoping her instincts were correct.
Sure enough, not the hair of a breath later, the armored men rushed by with shouts rendered utterly unintelligible between their accents and their rage. Well, she had to give the warrior credit for that one. Though, as she caught her breath and the men's voices began to fade, she couldn't help but think that taking some of them out from behind might not be a bad plan of action...
"No more innocent blood!" flashed to the forefront of her mind. No, she did not think the soldiers were in the least bit innocent... but this was the warrior's desire. She would honor it. He'd spent too long here.
With another gasp, eyes closed again, she was off.
the time she'd spent working with those two, she had never, never
had to run that fast, or that far. Her body was
out, her heart unable to beat any faster... but the warrior pushed her
on. She let him, for all it was worth... she couldn't allow his
had held very well past the first hallway, but down the second, the
blood had begun to make her pant leg heavy--not to mention the
finally having run out. Didn't matter so much at the moment,