CC Round Two Pg.5

Molotov's ears perked up as a great crashing of wood and stone echoed through the hall. Vully panicked and toppled over, landing squarely on the dog's left head.

"Sorry," he sputtered, flapping his wings aimlessly. "Did you hear that?"
"Sure did. Might be something important. Go take a look. I'll stay here to keep watch."

The bat flitted off into the darkened hallway, narrowly averting an untimely collision with the walls for the umpteenth time. He returned a brief minute later.

"There's a huge mess in one of the rooms. I ran into a big cloud of dust. Looks like a table fell down and shattered or something. It's weird."

Tables don't break themselves.
Sounds like our foe, then. Trying to sneak up on us from above, I'll bet. Hah, no chance. We're on our own ground in here!

Molotov burst from the jumbled pile of chairs, sending them careening every which way. An awful clanging of metal rang out.

Oh blast it.

~~~~

Erx flinched at the sound of metal grating against metal. He hurriedly backed out of the exposed room, retreating from the misty embrace of the rain. Darkness quickly enveloped him once more, slowing his pace to a crawl for fear off tripping himself up and further revealing himself. A quick glance confirmed that his foe had broken cover and had begun searching for him.

Here we are, two tricksters playing the most deadly of games.

He nosed about for some way leading to the barren roof, where he could hide and formulate his next move. From what he could recall of the school's design, a large platform- easily thirty feet square- hung over his head. The designers of the place, naturally, wished to keep people from reaching the perilous precipice, so the stairwell in question did not appear as readily as did the others. Working inwards from the outside, he poked about before coming across a steep flight of steps.

Satisfied, he began the strenuous climb, which taxed his aching muscles greatly. Before long, he stood under the shelter of a small awning, looking out across the rain-beaten rooftop. Explosive flashes of lightning lit up the sky with the light of a thousand fires as howling winds drove the standing rainwater over the edge to the ground far below.

So perhaps this strategy has some holes in it.

Indeed, his plans were nearly as flawed as the roof itself. From where Erx lay, he could count dozens- nay, hundreds- of small fissures in its rough surface. They did not appear large enough to collapse under stress, but they certainly threatened to snag the paw of any who attempted to dash across. He had nowhere to run, should the two-face trap him.

Such a sorry state for a place that was once so fine.

So fine and so awfully familiar.

Distant voices drifted from below. The other pair was at it again, creating a chaotic racket. In Erx's ears, however, their cries came across far differently.

They echoed with the shouts of children.

His eyes perceived the cracked, musty ruin no longer. In their place stood neat, orderly walls with flowery wallpaper and smooth lines of light blue paint. The scents of peanut butter and dusty chalk filled the stale air as he grasped at a fleeting image.

An image of the past.

This is how it was once before. A school, yes- a school where children learned and children played. One of those children was my friend, then. She brought me to school one day. Not this school, that's impossible. Someplace like this, though. I saw so many things. It was wonderful.

Yet all was lost.

Lost to something.

Something.

~~~~

Molotov browsed through the dimly lit floor, guided by the bat's keen perception of the darkened space. He made a wide lap around the maze, finding paw prints in the dust that led from an exposed room towards some obscure destination.

We can track him with by his prints, although it's awfully hard to see in this darkness.
The storm can give us light, through, right? We'll just have to wait for it to show the way.

With each piercing flicker of blue-white lightning, the vague trail became clear for a tauntingly brief split second. He advanced with the tempo of the tempest, moving slowly, surely, teetering on the brink of panic as he focused upon the booming echoes that followed each flash. The tracks eventually led to a staircase, which he ascended with great caution. His own instincts suggested he might lay an ambush there; he could only assume his foe felt the same.

Rather than meeting danger, however, he found opportunity. Erx lay silently on the floor but five feet away, staring aimlessly into the distance.

"Got you!" cried Molotov triumphantly.

Not again.

Erx remained where he lay.

"You can't outsmart me, you know!"
"G-get away," muttered Erx. "You're treadhing on unsteadhy ground."
"I'm no clumsy fool!"
"That'sh nothing t' do with it. You- you  can't step around th' burden of th' past."
"You're just playing games now. C'mon, I'll best you!"
"This place- can't you feel its bygone days? Th' emptiness, th' quiet. Ish' all- it's all so very familiar."

Erx shakily rose up.

"Please. Just- jus' get away. Get away. Get away."

He shivered violently and looked Molotov in the eye.

"Get away."