Issue # 5- A Shattered Clasp

A Shattered Clasp
*~~~~~*

Thrash metal roars from the open door of the Rover straddling the snow-packed sidewalk, screams of death blend with wailing guitars. The Guardian`s breath clouds before him as he stares down the sight of the Glock.

All sounds filter out as Mikel studies the large beast ripping the vagrant in half. He had to drop the thing NOW before more humans could see it. The monstrosity resembled a canine in form. Thick bony spines protrude from the between its pointed ears to run down its spine, its tail barbed with thin razor sharp clusters. Its fur cobalt and its body whippet thin it was built for speed kills like a cheetah. He bolsters his right hand with his left, waiting until it stops shaking its heads like a puppy with an old sock in its teeth.

Mikel ignores the warm blood splattering across his face as he waits for his shot. It would have to sever the spinal cord at the base of the brain for the cleanest, fastest kill. A millimeter error and it would only be injured. And pissed. With little warning the hell hound swallows then bolts to the right, Mikel`s first shot missing it`s mark to explode into the beasts shoulder blade.

Another round cycles into the barrel as the animal howls out in agony. Spinning left wildly its long thin tail slams into the gunman`s ribs, razor sharp protuberances slicing through leather easily, shredding flesh and muscle to the bone still he touches the trigger. One side of the demonic greyhound`s head detonates as Mikel drops to his knees, blood warming his leg.

Shouts come up behind him as the dark realms escapee hurtles itself backwards, death not coming easily or prettily it seems. Mikel pushes his coat into his gaping wounds as other denizens of the underpass begin to gather. A cloud of ash replaces the beast to dance on frigid winds.

“Did you see that?” he hears a woman asking, her words becoming garbled.

“See it? Shit woman it ran past me!”

“What the hell was that?”

“Some sort of mutated dog?”

“Damn government experiments just like I said!”

He attempts to stand, to make his way through the mob of the homeless and junkies chattering around him, but his vision blurs wickedly as red froth leaks from the corner of his mouth. He must seal the gate before more enter this realm. He forces himself to his feet.

The unwanted dregs of society shuffle some allowing the imposing armed male to stagger towards the off ramp. Mikel gets to within forty feet of the gate when his knees buckle. He collapses to his face in the trampled dirty snow, mouth filling with coppery liquid. As dark spots dance behind his closed lids he hears a female voice chanting softly in a tongue of times past.

“Ephra…..the gate…..."

“Is sealed temporarily. Mikel?”

Her words catch on the icy zephyrs as darkness engulfs him.