Editing Character Vignettes (section)

=='''A Moonlit Night in Birmingham'''==

It was a strange night under the full moon in Birmingham. That is to say, it was a strange night for two people in Birmingham. I don't mean to imply that every single inhabitant of Birmingham was finding themselves in bizarre circumstances. Most people were sleeping peacefully in their beds, and even those that were awake were not aware of the strange scene being played out in a dark and quiet alley. Of course, it is only strange in a relative sense. It was not necessarily unusual or strange for the beast itself to be attacking someone. It was probably quite natural and matter of course for the monster to attack people with little to no provocation. On the other hand, it was certainly strange, unusual, and atypical for Mary Kirk to be assaulted by an inhuman monster on her way home, but then Mary was a very typical, normal, and ordinary girl.

The astute observer might have noticed that I said it was a strange night for two people, but have only indicated the presence of two beings, the monster and Mary, and might be wondering if I intend to grant the monster the status of "person". Sadly, I'm not quite that charitable; perhaps I'd been a more decent chap if I could find the empathy to attribute human status to such a being, but usually the most I can do with a monster is to hit it until it turns into dust. Forgive me if that makes me seem uncouth; I assure you that in my day to day affairs I'm much more gentle.

Anyway, we're on a bit of a tangent here, so let's refocus. We have the alley, with Mary backed up against the wall and looking quite afraid, and the monster approaching at a leisurely pace, apparently savoring her fear and in no hurry to make this quick. To satisfy the earlier quota of 2 people having an oddball night, I suppose I had better mention that I was there. Of course, I wasn't exactly in my normal attire. You see, it was a strange night for me, but it was a strangeness that's novelty was beginning to decay a bit. Oh, alright, I won't pretend that I'm at ease with the idea or actuality of running around cities at night dressed up like the Great Gatsby fighting monsters with a walking stick, but I was beginning to adjust to the concept. A bit.

The observer might also note that I have a tendency to try to be funny or witty. I beg the observer's forgiveness, as it seems to be a habit I can't quite shake.

Alright, I'll stop neglecting the narrative. Mary was up against one wall, backed up and desperately looking for a way out. I knew Mary from school; she was a nice enough girl, certainly amiable enough. The monster was approaching her; like most of the things I fought during my night ventures in Birmingham, it was a confusing creature. In general form it seemed to resemble a greyhound, but there was quite a bit off with it. The skin was loose, saggy, and yellowish in color; instead of a snout it had a beak made of some bony material that looked slick and slimy. The throat was adorned with a beard of hanging tendrils that twisted and writhed, glistening with the same slime that marked the beak. Instead of paws, it seemed to have fleshy pads that slapped as it moved along the ground. All and all, it was quite repulsive and ghastly.

In comparison, Mary was quite lovely. Dirty blond hair, vivid blue eyes... I suppose the audience will forgive me if this seems a bit lecherous to mention, but the girl had a wonderful figure. Such a slim waist. I have to admit, I was a bit jealous of my friend Nick, whom Mary was sweet on. Still am, come to think of it, but the audience is probably tired of this line of thought, so I'll just get on with it.

Now, most people's response to seeing a pretty girl threatened by some kind of aberrant horror would probably be between paralyzed with fear and running to get the police. Maybe a few would pick a bat or a rake or something and tried to fend the thing off, so really, my response of jumping right in between Mary and the thing isn't that odd, is it?

I'll admit that my attire might have added an element of surreality to me that might cause one to question my sanity. If the monster was a thing out of a nightmare, then I was... well, I was the product of a different kind of altered state of mind, which I will allude to only out of a motive of politeness. My point is, despite my dress, I was only doing what any decent fellow would have done. What kind of person wouldn't try to protect a someone in danger, especially someone as endearing as Mary?

The astute observer might counter that I doth protest too much, and that I'm attempting to make myself seem humble to heighten the heroism of my action. To counter, I'll neatly dodge the question and just continue telling my story.

So, I'd had the good fortune to arrive on the scene just as the thing was coming at Mary. It was giving off a sort of low hooting as it came on, head low and feet smacking against the pavement. Alice was against the wall, probably doubting her sanity. I was standing in between the two, cane in one hand, hat in the other, tensed and waiting.

People familiar with me and my capabilities as in my suit wearing iteration might be surprised when I say I lashed out at the thing with my cane as it came close. They might ask why I didn't use the sword sheathed inside the cane to cut the thing apart, to which I make this reply: Why does everyone seem to think that the sword part is the only dangerous bit of the stick? Have you lifted this thing? It's surprisingly heavy, and that knob that forms the sword hilt is solid metal. Add my augmented strength in my spiffed up guise, and I'm quite easily just as dangerous hitting people with the stick as I am cutting them with the sword.

Sorry, that's a pet peeve of mine. I mean, I've been given this power for a reason, right? I honestly can't say why me in particular, or for what reason. It's just, whenever someone needs someone else to look out for them, someone to watch their back, help them up, and hey, if needed, save them, I like to be that guy. And now, whenever I feel like some thing precious to me is in danger, or someone needs me to protect them, I end up in spats and a three piece suit with the power to protect that which I hold dear. And not only the power, but the knowledge and the skills necessary to use that power. I may not know how to throw a punch in my normal form, but whenever I'm putting on the Ritz, I just know. So, really, I don't think I can get much better taking pointers from someone else, particularly an audience without any experience in these matters.

That clear? Good. Anyway, I hit the thing with my cane. It was a pretty good hit, in my estimation at least, and the thing kind of tripped up, crashed into the ground, and immediately began to turn to dust.

If you're thinking that that was a bit anti-climatic, then yeah, I'd agree. I was a bit perplexed myself. Most of the time, the things were tougher than that. I'd fought monsters before, and while most seemed to buy the farm after 2 or 3 good hits, I'd never one hit KO'ed one before.

I'll freely admit that my pride was a bit stoked at my evident prowess, and I turned to the still freaking out Mary in a rather cheeky mood. I forget what I said exactly, and whatever it was it wasn't that clever anyway, but I had no sooner finished than I felt a sharp pain in my back. A glance over my right shoulder yielded a most disconcerting sight. Two long, barbed hooks of slime covered bone were lodged in my left shoulder. They were connected to two taut ropes of bunched muscle, twitching sinew, and red flesh that led into a corner of darkness I hadn't seen before. Two great big yellow eyes were glowing, set at about a height of 6 feet.

The audience should be able to appreciate and understand the fact that I was more than bit frightened to find myself caught off guard. Before I could react, the muscles in the flesh ropes flexed, tearing me off my feet and jerking me back into the darkness.

The thing, whatever it was, was huge. The eyes were apparently set in the chest, as its overall height was easily a story tall. It had multiple sets of arms, most ending in pincers or pointed stingers. The largest set of limbs was a pair of great scythe bladed talons. It's exterior was like the hardened carapace or exoskeleton of an insect, segmented in many places. Its head, set low in the chest, was a knobby protrusion of unarmored flesh with practically no neck. A massive beard of twisting feelers hung from the chin, slapping against my face as the pincers held me in vice like grip.

So, yeah, I was more than a little freaked out. The scything talons tensed for what I instinctively knew was a decapitating strike and I finally pulled myself together. I managed to get my foot up and give the thing a solid enough kick that I could wrench myself free of the pincers.  I'd lost my hat in the abrupt flight to the creature's waiting grapsers, but had managed to keep my cane. The scythe limbs swept downward, the bony edges of the blades whipping up a wind that rustled my hair as they missed my scalp by inches. I drew my sword and stabbed for the thing's head.

Now, the audience might ask why I wasn't trying to get out of the reach of the thing's scythe talons or why I was still fighting it. In the first place, I'm a better fighter up close than I am far away. In the second, If I backed up it would just hook me again and drag me back to it. In the third, if I backed off, it might have gone after Mary. The power that I've been given seems to have made me strangely resistant to harm, but those hooks could have seriously injured a normal person, and the rest of that thing's arsenal would tear them to pieces.

Now, you might not believe me, but that last reason was the only real important one. Even if I could have gained a significant advantage by backing off, I could never do so if it exposed someone to harm like that. I'm being serious here. I wasn't given these powers so that I could save my own hide. I was given them so that I could stand unwavering in the defense of others. That's honestly what I think, and that's how I'm going to play it from here till the day I fall.

So I stood there and tried to give as good as I got. I won't bore you with all the details of the fight; I think it went on for a minute or two before I finally got the better of the thing.

With a sweep of my sword, I severed both of its fighting talons. It actually let out a strange hoot similar to the first creature - maybe they were related, somehow? - and then I drove my sword through the soft head and into the thing's body. It gave up the ghost and turned to dust as I staggered out of the alley and looked for my hat.

Mary was still there, which honestly surprised me. I wasn't worried about her recognizing me; no one seems to when I'm transformed. I remember her thanking me profusely, and my replying with the same old "it was nothing" responses that are so typical of such a scene. I told her to get on home and be careful from now on, and she finally left after hugging me, actually. I followed her a bit, just to make sure she got home safe, and then turned back towards my own home. A quite swipe of my handy dandy magic handkerchief, and the worst and most obvious of the injuries were gone. Just a couple bruises left, and easy enough to explain away as the result of messing around with the guys.

So yeah, that's a night in the life of Simon Hunt. It's not the best way to live.

Well, I've got to admit, it's getting better.