A Light in the Dark (Post Six)

[B][FONT="Book Antiqua"][COLOR="DarkRed"][JUSTIFY] The smaller of the two in black moved slowly, giving Carter a wide breadth but not as though he were wary. In fact, Vincent saw a strange smile on his face as he ran his hand over his dark brown hair. The larger one moved in front of Carter, raising his hand and winding his fingers in the nest of pale gold hair. He said something, a glare on his face, as though his anger had showed itself. He jerked Carter’s head back, revealing a knife from his pocket. Carter’s face was placid, blank, even when the gleaming blade was passed across his exposed throat light enough not to cut, but hard enough to leave a thin track. Vincent didn’t see anything; it was too dark to make out any details.

The smaller one drew forward, taking Carter by the front of his off-white shirt and throwing him into the door, pinning him there with one hand. Carter shook his hair out of his eyes and focused on the man, raising his hands but not in a threatening manner. He spoke, but it only seemed to enrage them even more. The smaller one pinning him down yanked him forward and threw him to the side, revealing a knife of his own and pointing it at Carter. Vincent had to raise himself up a bit, but could not see Carter’s face as it was turned to the men. He raised his hands and his voice, and for the first time Vincent could hear what words were exchanged:

“… didn’t come here for violence. And I don’t know what your big friend wants of me, but I’m not going to simply roll over and submit.”

“Human.” The smaller one’s voice was loud, but controlled. “You came here for a reason and still are not afraid. Only fools have no fear!”

From the distance, the slight breeze blowing in front of him, Vincent had not noticed that the two men were demons. Their scents would have tipped him off, but they were too far away from each other. They probably wanted Carter’s soul, or something more. Carter didn’t appear to want to give anything up without a fight.

“I have fear.” He said. “I simply won’t show it.”

The small one was pushed forward by the larger one. “If you have fear, you’ll do as told then.” He said.

“No. I’m not a dog.” Carter stepped toward the door. “I just want to leave without confrontation; I knew this was a bad idea…”

The small one leapt forward, barring the only exit. “No! You’ll stay, and you’ll listen to us! We only want one thing. It doesn’t have to be more trouble than it is.”

“These tactics may have worked before,” Carter growled, “but not now. Not with me.”

The large one spoke, but his words were very low. Carter had turned his gaze to him, leaving the smaller one open for an attack, a chance he took. Using the door for leverage, he pushed off with his knife in front of him, but Carter turned and moved aside just in time. He backed away, but drew no weapon of his own, and when the smaller one regained his footing, Carter moved forward and grabbed his wrist. The man struggled, grabbing Carter’s loose hair and pulling it forward, forcing him to look down, but the hand with the knife was still restrained, even as it tried to move. Carter ran him into the wall below where Vincent watched with a slightly-open mouth, nearly unable to believe what was happening.

The larger man moved forward, grabbing Carter around the waist and lifting him away from his companion, throwing him to the floor. Carter rolled, getting onto his knees when the larger of the two bared down on him with his own knife above his head, swiping in vicious patterns that Carter stopped with a swift grab. His thin hand closed around the blade, but no blood was drawn. He bent the blade upward, snapping it off, spinning it in his hand and thrusting forward, burying its tip deep inside the man’s chest to where it was hardly visible in the darkness. He fell forward, spilling blood from the wound and his mouth, and Carter threw him to the side.

Before he could get up, however, the smaller man dragged him backward by the hair, and Carter let out a gasp of surprise. With his hands at his head, stopping the assailant from ripping his hair out, he levered his feet underneath him and spun around, bringing his knee up and connecting with the stranger’s stomach and lower chest. Vincent grimaced, imagining the ribs cracking at the speed and force of the strike, but the man didn’t seem to give any notice to what damage he surely sustained. He repositioned the knife in his hand and pushed Carter back, over one of the only pieces of furniture in the room, and in a moment was on top of him, pinning him with his legs and the weight of his body, stabbing at Carter’s face.

The man was strong, it appeared to Vincent, but Carter had the upper hand; with both arms he blocked the strikes, making his attacker angrier every moment. When he raised his arms over his head, letting out a howl of rage, Carter struck with the swiftness of a serpent, grasping his arms and bringing them down on the seat cushions beside him with such force a snap broke the silence, and the man’s arm. He released the knife with another scream, this time of pain, and Carter scooped it up, winding his arms around the one on top of him and bringing the blade down, digging it into his spine and deeper, twisting it. The smaller man’s body shuddered, his eyes wide, and he fell to the side. Carter dug the knife out of him, tossing it to the floor, and did the same with the blade still jammed into the larger man’s chest.[/JUSTIFY][/COLOR][/FONT][/B]