The Non-Human Society

Chapter 149: Chapter One Hundred and Forty Eight – Vim – Stalkers, Predators, Hunters, and Vim

Finally.

Coming to a stop before the stairwell, I stared up the dark staircase at the door to the roof. The lamps within the stairwell, and around it, were unlit. This area wasn't frequented often, especially not by humans. It was the same door Renn and I used often to lead to the roof, where we sparred.

I studied the iron door at the top of the stairwell. It was dark and dim, thanks to the iron it was made of... but also because of its age. It wasn't as heavy as the ones that sealed the houses the society members lived within, but it was still not something a normal human could easily mess with.

It also only opened outward, and couldn't be opened right now... since there was a metal bar latched firmly across it. It was locked and sealed, with the bar sliding into steel support beams on either side of the door's frame.

The thing clunked again, as whoever was outside tugged a little firmer on it. I could hear her. Just beyond the door. She was mumbling to herself, and her feet were scraping the rooftop tiles, likely because she was trying to find her footing as to force the door open.

Only reason she hadn't popped it open yet was because she was trying to not make much noise. She was trying to break in quietly, without being noticed. Likely might have accomplished it, had she been a little more...

I stepped forward, quietly stepping onto the first stair step. Before I took another step upward, I hesitated.

If she had been more than she was... no one would have heard her break in.

Yet we had. Merit had too. Though she might have only noticed because I had done so, and thus alerted her to pay attention.

Whoever it was... was definitely a predator... so...

So why were they seemingly so clumsy? And why was she trying to break in so quietly too?

Predators who hunted were rarely this careful. They were usually too proud, too confident in their own prowess.

Taking a small breath, to smell her... I realized I smelled someone else.

Liina. She was nearby. Not in the hallway, but close. Maybe she was coming here, because she had heard something.

Not good.

Discarding all of my worry, and confusion, I rushed forward.

Leaping up the stairs, I bounded up the steps and didn't stop. In fact, right before I reached the door... I increased my momentum. I leapt forward, with even more force, and rammed the door.

Slouching forward a bit, I rammed the door with my shoulder. I hit the door, and the metal bar that held it firmly in place, and then I heard the entire door pop off its hinges and door frame.

The door shot outward, out into the afternoon day. It flew outward with such force; it cracked and slammed into the wall it had been attached to. It made loud sounds as it bounced off the wall, and broke off the rest of the way and skidded away onto the ceiling nearby.

I ignored the door though, as I stared at the one flying backward.

The door hadn't hit just the wall and floor. It had hit her too.

A loud scream of pain and shock filled the air, and my ears, as I watched a bundle of cloth flap wildly as it rolled along the rooftop. Arms and legs sprawled outward in all directions as the bundle thumped and skidded, all the way to the other side of the roof... impacting one of the larger planters. One that housed a tall skinny tree. Probably some kind of mangrove.

The woman released a weird sound as her helpless flailing body impacted the planter. It broke, which was a slight surprise. That thing hadn't been made of wood, but brick. It crumbled around her, as both brick dust and the soil poured onto her...

Then she went still.

Stepping out onto the roof, I surveyed the rooftop real quick. I glanced left and right, above me and behind.

There was no one else here. The garden was empty. The roof, empty... the door I had just come from was now several feet away, and a part of the wall and doorframe had broken off.

I flinched at the sight of the now missing door. I'll need to fix that, and soon. Leaving that door so open while there were enemies nearby wasn't the best thing to do.

A tiny mistake.

One I'd rectify shortly.

Looking back to the woman who I had slammed the door into; I was a little surprised to find her still lying there.

I had honestly expected her to at least get to her feet while I had looked around, for others... yet she hadn't moved at all.

Frowning at her, I wondered if she was still in shock. I had indeed put some oomph into that impact... and being hit by that iron door probably hadn't felt good at all. Plus she had rolled quite a ways and...

"Did I kill her?" I whispered at myself, and almost thought I had... until she let loose a very tiny groan.

A groan of pure pain. One that told me her lungs were struggling to inhale properly. She wheezed more than anything else.

Seems I'd done more damage than I had thought I would have.

Stepping towards her slowly, I studied the bundle of mess wrapped around her. She had many layers of old, rotted and worn, jackets and cloaks... but even beneath those was a mess. She looked like she had fur, and a thicker body than a woman should have. Not just a matter of fat, either. Her hips and waist was...

Yes. She had several non-human features. Her feet were far too big. Her legs thin, but her waist and hips were wide. It looked like her top half was more human, and her bottom half more inhuman. I could see clumps of mangled hair and fur too, mostly on an exposed forearm.

Taking a deep breath, I smelled the stink of the one who had hunted Renn.

She didn't just stink like a predator, but something else. Dirt. Grime. Gunk. Did she roll around in a cistern before coming here? Smelled like it. Though the stink might be from her clothes. She had wrapped her entire body in those rags, as if to hide her non-human features from sight. It was ineffective though, the extra layers only made her large feet and other parts more noticeable. Those rags were probably found in the trash, thus the smell.

"You have some nerve hunting those I protect," I told her as I approached.

Her exposed forearm shifted, and I noticed her feet tuck into herself. She was trying to gather enough strength as to get up. Yet was failing.

As she moved, clumps of dirt from the planter she had broken shifted... and then so too did the tree that had been planted within it. It made a small cracking noise, and then promptly fell upon her.

I focused my attention on her as the plant landed upon her. When the thin stalk and leaves hit her, she barely registered it. She twitched just a bit, but not by much. Not enough to concern me.

She wasn't faking it. She was injured. Hurt. Out of it, maybe even.

If that door's impact had done as much damage as it seemed, then she was likely similar to Renn and Brandy in terms of strength.

Though maybe not Renn. I knew her physical strength, but not how well she handled damage just yet.

Merit would not have been knocked out, but Brandy would have been.

"Gwuhh..." she groaned, and I nodded as I stepped up to her. I stepped close enough that some of the dirt that had collapsed onto her crunched under my feet, thanks to it having rolled off her earlier.

Her head shifted a little, and I waited a few moments... expecting a sudden attack.

Yet none came.

Bending down, I grabbed a hand-full of the slimy cloaks and jackets. Around the section of her shoulders. She shifted, but not by much... I hefted her upward, raising her to my eye level.

The tree rolled off her. As did the dirt. A few scraps of cloth and a half torn jacket also slid off her shoulder, and with as I raised her up... her hood fell off her head.

As I squeezed her clothes tighter upon seeing her face, she blinked and realized what has happening. Her orange eyes went wide, and then she screamed at the sight of me.

Her first instinct was to smack me. More a slap than anything else, she whacked me upside the head with what had felt like a thick fur paw. Her pupils narrowed, once she realized her blow had not fazed me.

She screamed at me, and her two paw-like hands grabbed my forearm. I felt her try to squeeze and gouge me with her nails, but I ignored that attempt too.

The moment she realized that wasn't going to work either, she sent out one of her huge feet.

Her kick landed squarely in the center of my chest. And it had been quite a kick too. My whole body jolted from the blow, and some of the cloth and cloaks I held in my grip tore as she tried to jump off and away from me, using the kick to do so.

I held her firm all the same.

For a tiny moment she fought with all her strength. Making noises and growls as she tried to free herself from my grip, most likely thinking that her kick would have been enough to get me to release her... but...

After a few solid seconds she hesitated, and her eyes became even wider as she looked down at me.

"I'm not one to flinch," I told her.

Her human face, adorned by fur all around her head, snarled at me as she then screamed and tried to kick me again. This time she sent out a flurry of kicks, one after another. Some hit my chest, others my face, but they all had one goal in mind.

To free herself.

Holding her firm, I paid keen attention to the way the clothes and scraps of leather held her in my grip. They were tearing and ripping... but she wasn't intentionally trying to make them do so. In fact she seemed to be in just as much a panic over her clothes ripping as she did my hold on her.

She could free herself from me, if she just slipped out of her jackets and coats. Yet she didn't.

Was she incapable of thinking that far ahead, or was there a reason behind it?

As she flailed around, trying to free herself, I studied Renn's stalker.

She was likely some kind of badger. She had rounded short ears on top of her head. Bear looking ones, not human. Her left hand was more human than her right, but both had fur and pads on her palms. She had thick and sharp nails, which were cutting my shirt but not my skin. Her huge feet were wrapped tightly in cloth, but I could see the paws there all the same. She had claws, but they weren't extended. Either she couldn't force out her claws, or wasn't really trying to hurt me.

"Why are you hunting her?" I asked the stalker.

This stalker was definitely a predator. And even more so a genuine non-human. There weren't many alive like her anymore, though it was odd how she seemed a little deformed. To have some parts human, and others not was normal... but such a thing was usually synced with the rest. Why was one hand human and the other not? That was an oddity.

She ignored my question as she continued to struggle.

"You'll answer me," I told her. I needed to find out what I could, before I killed her.

"No!" she screamed a real word finally, and the sound of it almost made me release her.

I didn't, though, and instead sent out my own blow.

Hitting her with my free fist, I felt my balled up fist connect with her stomach. One that felt oddly thin and small, although hard of muscle.

Her eyes bugged out a little, and she let loose a weird sounding cough, and went limp. Suddenly her grip on my forearm became negligible, barely noticeable, and she became heavier. Her clothes that had been ripping and falling off thanks to her thrashing became taught thanks to her going limp.

Shaking her a little, I stared into the now blank expression of the girl. She was about to throw up, but I ignored it as I studied her closer. She had a human face, but fangs and thick teeth. She had an under-bite thanks to her fangs, and she had fur all around her face and head, mixing with her human hair. It was black and brown, and spotted with white lines.

I didn't recognize her colors or face. If I did know one of her ancestors, I couldn't think of it off the top of my head.

It was moments like this that I wished for Renn's memory. Even if it meant I'd have to remember the bad stuff in such perfect detail.

Yet...

She wasn't old at all.

Probably younger than Renn. Maybe even by more than half.

"Let her go!"

Shifting, I quickly turned to look at the young voice that had just screamed at me.

Finding a small girl, who I also didn't recognize, I frowned at her.

She too was covered in those mismatched dirty clothes. Scraps. Where were they getting those old clothes? Some of those colors and designs were dozens of years old.

Yet her clothes weren't what bothered me.

Another.

More.

More danger. More enemies. More hunters.

More threats to those who I cherished and protected.

The small girl stepped forward, likely to say something else... but I didn't wait to hear it.

With a step towards her, I hefted the girl I still held who was now slobbering up blood and tossed her.

"Wha!" the smaller girl screamed in shock, and shuffled for a few seconds as she tried to comprehend what was happening. Before she could wrap her head around the situation, she was hit by the bundle of rags I had just thrown.

The two went rolling along the roof, and for a few moments the young girl cried out in pain and shock.

She sounded young. Too young. Even for our kind.

Either they were as young as they looked, or they were like Merit.

But...

Taking a small breath, I stopped myself from starting to care. I forced my own interest and worry for these predators down, since I couldn't allow such emotions and thoughts to enter my head.

They were enemies right now. Nothing more. Their appearance. Their traits... their truths, meant nothing.

They were the enemies of the Society. My enemies.

And enemies were meant to be eliminated, no matter the cost.

I stepped towards the bundle of dirty clothes, as the girl tried to unravel herself. Seemed the one I had tossed had gone completely still, but the one who had caught her with her whole body was fine. She was incoherently yelling for the other to get up, to wake up and...

Motion drew my eyes to the left. Back towards the door. At first my heart thumped, since it had looked like someone had rushed into the stairwell into the Society... but it had been the opposite.

Merit hurried out onto the roof, and with a huff looked around. She took in the surroundings, with her small but keen eyes.

Good. With her in front of that door, I'd not need to worry about anyone sneaking past me. Plus her running up that stairwell and onto the roof told me no one had done so already.

"Pulti! Pulti please wake up!" the girl screamed hopelessly, and it took a lot for me to not hesitate because of her screams.

She was screaming from the soul. From the heart. She wasn't just panicking, she was genuinely concerned.

That was not the scream of an enemy.

The young girl was crying, heaving even, as she shook the one I had thrown upon her. She was still somewhat stuck beneath her, by the looks of it. Her right leg was still under the other.

And...

I slowed my approach towards her, and realized she had feathers.

Her face was more human than the other had been. This one even had human ears... but behind those ears, and all over her head where her hair should be... were feathers.

Dull reds, mixed with light browns and tipped white. Feathers in abundance.

A bird. Like Lilly. Like Rapti, and Gerald. Like Crane.

"How rare," I whispered. Birds were so fragile. So delicate. That throw I had just done, that impact upon he catching her friend, could have killed her.

"Run away with her Fly!"

Turning my head, I frowned as my hand shot upward, open palmed. But not to grab the neck of the man rushing me, but instead to grab the sword he had swung down onto my head.

Catching the sword, the man's eyes went wide as I took in a deep breath.

I'd remember this man's smell. The smell of blood and organs. He had killed recently. He was lucky that I didn't recognize the smell of death upon him.

"What...!" the man groaned as he tried to pull free the sword I had just caught. I held it firmly in my grip, keeping it still. I held it by the middle of the blade, and held it firmly enough that it only wavered and shook a little as he tried to pull it free.

The sword was cheap. Made of bronze... yet it wasn't just sharp, it had been used. Some of the scent of blood came from it, not him.

Yet still I held it.

He groaned and his face quickly turned to one of absolute terror... as he realized he simply did not have the strength to pry the sword free of my grip.

Which was the truth. He was weak. Too weak for a predator... yet he smelled of death, which made no sense.

"What are you!" he shouted in fear.

To answer him, I squeezed my grip tighter... and tighter... Until the blade cracked. Until he released it in shock, and stepped away.

Keeping hold of the sword while he gaped in alarm, I squeezed the sword even harder.

Then it shattered.

As the cheap bronze sword shattered into dozens of pieces I held the man's gaze.

"I'm the protector."