Rhydian ran back out of the lift, the shop assistant from earlier was lying unconscious behind the counter. He ran out into the street, looking frantically for somewhere to go. One thought bulleted through his head, he had to get to the sanctuary. But how? It was never mentioned where it was in the books, and he had no way of attracting a mage. Something smashed into his mind. Book one; magical communities are usually hidden in bad looking areas and can sometimes be the safest places to be. But he was on quite a well kept high street somewhere in central London, he was hardly near anywhere like that. In the end he just decided to turn left and run.
Rhydian was on the tube. It had made sense at first, he had money, and it was the fastest way to escape Cutler, but now he had doubts. First, he was trying to get to the sanctuary, and going to the end of the northern line didn’t really seem like the smartest way to get there. And second, he was leaving Missy to die. Of course, all these thoughts disappeared when the front of the train contorted into a monstrosity of tortured metal and body parts with a cry of tortured metal and hellish screams of agony. All the lights blinked out, and suddenly Rhydian’s brain reverted to animal survival instincts. He got up, the lights of a few fires flickered against the tunnel walls, the crying, the screaming, the loss. It tortured his mind as he and a few others just recovering from paralyzing shock ran over to the door and wrenched it open. Some of them turned around to help others, but he just ran. Left, of course. Smoke was already gathering, it curled up his nostrils, burned his throat. Soon he had left the train behind, looking for an access door or a station or something. He stumbled through the dark, the stench of burning flesh was still notable from here. Suddenly he realized that there was a small alleyway beside him. It had a dim strip light that gave off less light than a glow stick and an emergency phone. His heart leapt, he was saved. He ran up to it and picked up the receiver. He realised the line was dead, but before he could even put it down, he saw Cutler standing in the mouth of the alley. Rhydian brandished the phone like a club, and fell into the sort of fighting stance one would expect of someone using a phone attached to a cable as a weapon. “You call that an improvised weapon?” Cutler asked, grinning. “This, Is an improvised weapon.” (OVER 9000 house points if you get the reference. :)) Said Cutler, pulling out a phone box. Just kidding! He pulled out a crowbar. “D-Did you do that? With th-the t-t-train?” Rhydian was on the verge of tears, how did he expect to fight off this giant who had beaten a mage with actual weapons, and he was a mortal with a telephone. “Does it matter Mystery boy?” Asked Cutler, walking slowly and threateningly towards him. “Mystery boy? What?” Replied Rhydian. “The question without an answer, the boy who makes no sense. Surely you know?” He replied, the aggression in his tone almost replaced by curiosity. “No! I don’t know!” Rhydian was disoriented and scared, and now his would be assailant knew more about him than he did. “No matter, all I know is, you’re trouble. Kiss your life goodbye.” Said Cutler, as he leapt forward. He swung the crowbar over his head, and Rhydian tried to block it with the phone. The crowbar pushed the phone into his face. He stumbled back and dropped the phone. Cutler stepped forward, about to finish the job. Suddenly a slither of dark purple snaked around Cutler’s neck and slammed him into the floor. Trip Castalan walked down the alley, energy snaking back into his palm. “Need a hand?”
Cutler rolled onto his side and grinned. “Not one more step, Castalan.” He said through gritted teeth. Trip kept walking. A Vampire lept from the shadows, it’s white skin glowed against the dim light of the strip. Trip merely held out his palm and kept walking. The vampire’s neck twisted to an unnatural position and it landed abruptly and awkwardly, sliding across the floor, dead. A rod of energy appeared in his hand and he smashed it across Cutler’s face, then up. He took a step back and splayed his hand. Energy coated Cutler’s entire body, and he jerked his hand to the side. Cutler flew off into the shadows, and did not return.
Trip grinned. “Need a hand?” He asked. “I need seven.” Replied Rhydian shakily. Trip made five more hands of energy and offered his hand to Rhydian to help him up. Rhydian recoiled, his eyes full of fear and dread. “Who are you? How can I trust you?” He asked. “Trip Castalan, scottish sanctuary spotter.”
“But how can I trust you?”
“I guess you’ll have to take my word for it. I can get you out of here, away from the dark. The screams.”
“Fine.” Rhydian got up, and started following Trip.