Page 33 of Wishing Upon a Monster
“What about fighting rings?” Rocio voiced, “They are so vicious, I could see them being pitted against one another for sport.”
“It wouldn't be the first time someone brought something stupid for those fights. We arrested those involved in the last fighting ring months ago, though,” Isla said, tapping her chin.
“Well, for now, we aren't going to worry about the why so much as capturing the little hellions. If you manage to find clues to suggest that or anything else, I want it documented. Catch as many of those things as you can. While you're out, keep an eye out for young Cora O’Shea, the will-o'-wisp. She hasn't been sighted in a few days, and while that's not unusual, her mother is worried she’s taken up with a bad crowd.” Irene looked at a paper on the table in front of her. “And that’s it for tonight. If anything goes awry, radio it in. Y’all are dismissed.”
We filed out of the conference room, making our way out back to the vehicles.
“Aurora, if you'd like, you can ride shotgun,” CJ offered, opening the door for us ladies.
Charmed, I shook my head, “No thanks, CJ, I’m good with the back. And y’all can call me Rorie.”
The woods were quiet.Too quiet. We crept through the foliage with stasis bags on our backs and stun sticks clasped in our hands. The batons were ingenious, really. One tap of the end and a small being would knock right out. Anything larger might lose feeling in the area it was tapped for an hour or two. Ask me how I knew.
I was on edge. Tailypo were the beasts of my childhood. My brother used to tell me the story of how old Joe was eaten alive by one. He would hide outside of my room at night, calling, “Tailypo, tailypo, give me back my tailypo.” He had meso afraid to get out of bed that I developed a UTI from refusing to get up in the night to pee.
As if called by that memory, I heard a mocking, “Tailyyypo.” The branches above shuddered.
“At the ready,” Rocio commanded.
“Readyyyy, readyyyyy.” The branches behind us shook.
“Turn on your infrared function, Rorie, two taps,” CJ whispered.
“Shit,” I murmured, tapping the side of my goggles.
“Twoooo tapppssss!” The high-pitched squeal made my hair stand on end.
Red signatures mottled my vision as I saw what exactly was waiting for us in the trees. “Hells Bells.”
“KREEEEEEEE!”
And then they leapt.
I dodged and swiped, my empathy at an all-time low as I felt small claws try to shred my skin. My teammates and I fought in a circle, our backs towards the tight center, as we blocked and hit the furry demons. The problem was that they had to be hit with the tip of the baton to be stunned, and they were as focused on rending our flesh as we were on staying alive. We blocked, thwacked, and ducked, trying to cut down as many tailypo as we could. They kept coming, all claws and jaws. I endured the cuts and the bites, but there was no time to adjust, no time to regroup. It felt like for every one that we knocked down, two more would spring up. It was endless.
I felt myself drop down into my fighting headspace; my motions smoothed out, and my body flowed with the strikes and parries. The pain was gone, and so was the worry, until finally the assault ended.
The pain I had been ignoring roared to the forefront, and I gasped at the stinging sensation along my legs and side. Itapped my goggles, revealing in the dim moonlight that my uniform had been ripped away in large sections.
“Is everyone okay?” Isla asked, still on alert. Her uniform didn’t look any better than mine, though her scales protected her far more than my human skin, if the lack of blood on her body was any testament.
“I told them these suits needed to be reinforced against physical attacks,” CJ growled, ripping off the last of his dangling pant leg.
“I thought they were?” I asked, carefully sliding the stun stick into my holster.
“Obviously not enough,” Rocio grumbled, bending down to haul up a limp tailypo by the scruff.
“We were misinformed. How many did you think there were?” I groaned, bending down to start shoving tailypo into my sack.
“More than a ‘family,’” Isla chuckled without mirth, “they must’ve invited in their in-laws and extended family.”
“I’ll radio it in. We need more bags and enforcers. The reserves will have to wake up; heaven forbid this was just the welcoming committee.” Rocio grabbed the radio at her hip, turning the sound up just enough to hear Yari.
I filled my bag until I ran out of space. I walked around stunning the remaining bodies one more time for good measure.
“Fucking things,” I mumbled.
What felt like hours later, our backup arrived. Irene, Nash, Mac, Selene, Cece, and a few of the reserves I saw around crested the hill where we waited.
