The natures of his assignments never ceased to amaze him. One target could be a man who flunked out on his protection payments, another could be about some teacher who failed the bosses son in geometry. But this one, yeah, this one definitely took the cake. Soloman Carmeli was Falcone’s right had man and also his most religious. He was the one that brought the grace of God to the family and taught the whole family that no matter what “wicked” things they did, they were still God’s children and could be forgiven. Sweet thought. But the problem also was that this was also extremely fanatic.

That was why Vicente sat up in this abandoned bell tower in the darkness of night. That was why he had a sniper rifle resting comfortably across his lap as he peered out into the sky with binoculars.

He was out hunting a “demon”.

Carmeli ran to him one evening, sweating and fearful. He swore to everything holy that he spied an actual demon fluttering about in his neighborhood and he did not want such a harbinger around his home, his family, or his city. Vicente would have normally laughed off such a request but the hefty wad of cash that the man slapped down onto the table in front of him changed his mind.

All he asked for was a description and in what part of the neighborhood it was seen. That is what started this seemingly wild goose chase. Vicente scoured the city, following every lead until he finally got a pattern out of this winged succubus. The path seemed pretty random at first, but Vicente soon was able to predict her next flight pattern.

Glancing out of the abandoned bell tower, Vicente looked down to the long ago abandoned hedge maze that was below him. This used to be part of a biotanical garden called “Aphrodite’s Garden”, a fairly decent one but due to the city’s economic issues, it was quickly closed down. Now all that was left was an overgrown garden and maze that looked practically impossible to pass. Such is the way of the modern world…

Grumbling, Vicente reached down and grabbed his steaming cup of coffee. He silently took a sip as his eyes carefully watched the skies.

“Come on, you little beast,” he muttered to him and patted the sniper rifle. “Time to put you out of your misery.”

One of the perks of being able to fly was that you could get into places that were typically or technically shut off at night. Gina wasn't any sort of rebel or criminal, though-- she didn't sneak in to do anything bad. She just liked looking around. There was simply this magic about places in the middle of the night, when nobody else was around. She had to be strategic about these escapades, though-- only Fridays and Saturdays, so that it didn't interfere with her school schedule in any form or fashion. And, if she went to places that were still open to the public, she had to watch out for the nighttime security guards.

All of Gina's haunts tended to be open-air-- a smattering of zoos, some gardens, that sort of thing. She generally didn't stay for very long because, well, her attention span. These escapades served the purpose of wandering about and getting acquainted with the city's night-scape. Generally speaking, she did not return to the same place twice.

So, perhaps it was a strike of misfortune-- or fortune, whomever's perspective determining-- that she returned to "Aphrodite's Garden". Gina liked it more than she liked the others, largely because it had been abandoned, for some reason or another, and there weren't any night-guards to watch out for. Plants that were previously beaten back into submission were now reclaiming the botanical garden as their own. It was simply ethereal, and the silence within the garden was deafening. (A true feat for a garden within the heart of the city.)

As was customary with her approach, Gina began from her high-altitude, where the buildings were easier to navigate, and fewer wandering eyes could spy her. Sure, everyone should have been sleeping, but you'd be surprised-- this was the city that never slept, after all. She spied the garden and began her descent, folding her wings slightly and rocketing through the air as she descended towards the garden. She got within two-hundred feet, banked momentarily, and, following a brief semi-circle, glided into the heart of the garden.

Gina was dressed for the weather, which was cool and crisp, the sort of chill that cut straight to the bone-- she wore a knitted sweater beneath a semi-fitted coat (which bore decorative buttons on its front), jeans, a scarf (which was currently, artfully wrapped over her nose), and a knit cap. She even wore a pair of fingerless gloves. Gina pulled the scarf down with a smile and a sigh, her breath coming out in a puff. It was a beautiful night. And, as always, the garden was beautiful, too. The moon was at such brilliance tonight that it bathed the garden in its pale light. Simply beautiful.

"Mother Nature, you never cease to amaze," Gina said, to nobody in particular. She delicately picked her way over the overflowing flowerbeds, and tilted her gaze reverently towards weeping willows and bushes, once well-manicured, that were now blemished with free-growing branches.

Gina had been to the park twice, now, this visit being her third. In the two visits prior, she'd gotten a lay of the land, and knew her way about the garden. The only unknown was the hedge maze, which Gina had been avoiding because of its high walls and overall claustrophobic feeling. The hedge maze was tonight's only endeavor. Once she was done with that, she'd go back to Xavier's.

Vicente mused silently to himself as he took another sip of the steaming hot coffee. The sensation of the warm liquid as it coursed down his throat and expanded out to the rest of his body make him sigh a bit in relief. The bell tower was a bit colder than he thought it would be but the chill never before bothered him. Yes, it was slightly irritating, but it was all in the name of the job. Vicente was always professional and he took whatever came at him with a grin and a smirk. That was why the man, though chilly, did not grumble or complain about it. Instead, he only took another sip of coffee, put his binoculars to his eyes and scanned the scene.

Twice that little demon showed herself here. It would only be so long before she reappeared again. No matter how people fought it, they were creatures of habit. Even if they did not like to think they were, people loved to return to their favorite haunts.

So far from his tracking of this creature, he discovered that she was a wandering. She pretty much has traveled most of the city at random, but she had already flown over this particular garden twice. She was falling into a habit. A habit which the assassin was only too happy to exploit.

A cold breeze fluttered through his hair and Vicente continued to scan the horizon. The dark clouds swept lazily across the night sky, illuminated by a low hanging moon. The towering buildings sparkled, their windows shining in a mish-mashed checkerboard of lit and darkened windows. Below him the rustling of the overgrown bushes and trees gave the illusion that there was still vibrant life in the garden, though Vicente knew that was not true. There was an overabundance of life. The trees clawed at the air with high reaching branches while tall hedges, flowerbeds, and grass overtook the once concrete ground.

It was nature on the revolt.

He was about to continue his thoughts when he saw the swift moving creature flying through the air. He almost missed it but as he turned his binocular, he followed the beast. The wingspan, the clothing, yup, it matched the description had was given time and time again. As he watched he soon realized that the demon was little more than mutant. At least that was the most logical explanation.

He glanced at his gun. Back to the flying creature that divebombed the garden a couple times. Then shrugged.

“A job’s a job.” he mumbled as he hefted up his sniper rifle. Resting it on its stand, he lowered his gaze to look through the crosshairs and followed the flying mutant. He led the creature on, getting her flight pattern down before he waited for exactly the right moment and…

…

…

…

…fired.

KRAA-KOOM!

Gina stretched from her head to her toe, fanning her wings as she soaked in the silence. Nights like these were so--

>> KRAA-KOOM!

Gina hardly had time to wonder what the Hell that noise had been when a burning pain grazed her left shoulder and tore through the membrane of her outstretched wing. Gina let out an alarmed, pained yelp, crumpling to her knees dizzily. Numb hands fumbled towards the burnt gash on her shoulder, her dark-eyed gaze following the trail that led to the perfect hole that had been punched in her wing. What was that? Was that a bullet hole? Was that what bullet holes looked like?

Bile rose in Gina's throat, her head swimming. Someone was shooting at her. She looked at the pavement behind her, where the smouldering bullet lay. That was all she needed to see. That's it, she was out of here-- this whole train of though lasted only seconds in time before the gargoyle stumbled into action, quivering so incredibly that she nearly stumbled as went into motion. Her mind was racing in a flurry of frigtened thoughts, most irrational wonderings as to why someone was shooting her in the first place.

But, in amongst her panicked static of thoughts, something dawned on her... it had hit her shoulder first, then her wing, and went slightly downward in its trajectory. Thank you, gargoyle capacity to think three-dimensionally. Gina's gaze flickered towards the skyline momentarily, which, little did she know, was where the shooter was actually hiding.

Whoever was shooting at her was shooting from above.

Gina bee-lined towards what had once been an information kiosk, a cyllindrical little outcrop from a smattering of other buildings, and the maze... now the maze wasn't feeling as appealing any longer. Something more solid was in order.

From the protection of the kiosk, Gina inspected her wounds more thoroughly, her back pressed to the wall contrary to the stinging. The wound in her shoulder cut clear to the bone... it looked gross, worse then the tear in her wing. She tested her range of motion with the shoulder, moving her arm up and down, contrary to the bolts of pain. It would be manageable, but geebus, did it hurt!

Tears were already in her eyes, and she sucked air in through her teeth, hesitantly peeking around the edge of the kiosk, towards the skyline in the direction from which the bullet had come. There were too many buildings to pick out one vantage point. She shrank back behind the kiosk, swallowing down her panic, but the trembling that limned her body betrayed her.

If they were shooting from above, flying wasn't an option. She'd have to go on foot, first, to get back to Xavier's, then fly when she was far off enough not to get shot when taking-off. Gina breathed shakily, mopping at her eyes with her gloved hands, and slouched against the wall, on her uninjured shoulder. Maybe the bullet hadn't even been meant for her? Maybe it was just some psychopath, shooting blind, at anything that stirred? She hoped so and hoped not all at once... for, if the bullet had been meant for her, then obviously they'd have to finish the job. But, if it hadn't, that meant there was a psychopath on the loose.

Gina caught her mind snowballing into irrelevant shots-- whether or not the bullet was for her didn't change the fact that she'd been shot. No matter what, she had to get out of there alive, and tell someone-

God, she should have never snuck out.

His shot landed. He heard the sound of the bullet thudding against the concrete and he had to grin to himself. He continued to watch the mutant through the scope of his gun, wanting to watch her keel over lifelessly…but she never did. Eyes narrowed, a sharp hiss flew from between his teeth. She ran and hid behind a hedge, completely out of his line of site. A string of curses flew from his mouth as he discharged the casing and slipped another bullet into the chamber. He knew he should have brought on of the more high powered rifles!

Looking out through his scope again, he watched as the mutant ran, this time into the much sturdier safety of the old information booth. A snarl felt from his lips as he watched through the scope. She was not moving, nor was she taking to the skies. Maybe he got her wing? If so that should at least keep her grounded for a little bit.

Normally Vicente could wait here all day but the night was pressing on and despite how abandoned this area was that gunshot was pretty loud. It was bound to draw some kind of unwarranted attention. He knew he should have gone with a bigger caliber. Would have tore the bone straight from her body on impact.

Spitting on the ground, he cracked his neck to the side as he set his scope on the information booth. He could make it down there pretty quick, but he needed her scared stiff. Enough for her not to want to leave that information booth until he got there.

Couple of warning shots ought to do the job…

Taking aim, Vicente fired once, KRAA-KOOOM!. Then twice…KRA-KOOOM![/b] Both round struck the information booth, fairly close to where he suspected that she cringing against.

“That should keep the little bugger still,” Vicente snarled as he stood up from his seat and began to charge down the winding staircase. He would retrieve his gun and his coffee and all the incriminating evidence later. After he had dispatched her. For now…

SHIIING!

He pulled his bowie knife from the back of his belt and continued to climb down the stairs while he counted the seconds in the back of the head. One minute. He could make it to that booth in one minute…

A hole in the wing was not enough to ground Gina-- not nearly enough to make her want to wait around for something else to happen. Gina glanced to the sides, weighing her options. There was another shot, and another-- the first bullet ricochetted of the rounded edge of the building, where Gina had been peeking out only moments earlier. Another bolt of fear. The second one must have hit the building and stuck clear on the other side, for Gina didn't see it spark as it hit anything.

Yeah, those bullets were meant for her.

A rational creature might have remained up against the wall, trembling with fear, and waited it out. Gina was not, however, a rational creature-- she was a hormonal teenage girl, and someone was trying to kill her. There was no way she was going to wait around for them to do so. Gina didn't feel safe on the ground, but didn't feel safe to take to the skies, either-- she needed to at least get to higher ground, and the only solid high ground around here were the roofs. So, she wasn't being totally rational (high ground really only did some good in floods, not shootings), but Gina was scared to nearly her wit's end.

With another thrill of icy adrenaline, Gina took off again, heading for the buildings near the information booth. This cluster of buildings consisted of a small, ramshackle gift shop, offices for former employees, and a groundskeeping shed. The walls were a simple off-white stucco, and the roofs were steep and crafted of this teal-green metal, and accented to look dignified yet romantic. It stood over any and all of the other features in the garden. It would be a fantastic vantage point.

Gina sprinted for the backside of this building, little legs flying faster than she'd ever run before. She crouched down and leapt, fluttering to the roof with a short wingbeat. Her wing stung in protest, and her shoulder throbbed, but she could still fly. Good. Gina slipped momentarily, claws scratching against the metal, but she quickly regained her footing, propping herself up on two, intersecting sections of the roof. She took off her gloves, for better traction, and used the soles of her feet and the palms of her hands to scurry up the roof. She climbed almost to the top, peeking over it to get a better grasp on the surrounding areas and avenues. She only did so shortly, quickly ducking back own lest the shooter spy her and shoot once again. There weren't any shots. Gina hesitantly peeked over the rooftop once again, and spied something most out-of-place.

A guy-- or, at least, Gina assumed it to be a guy, if his stature or his gait was anything to go by, was stealing quietly into the botanical garden. Since when did abandoned, run-down botanical gardens have security guards? Maybe he'd help her-- Gina began to slide down, casting another glance back at the man, and spied something metallic within his grasp as it caught the moonlight and refracted it.

Security guards have Mag Lights, not big-*** knifes. Gina's stomach dropped, and ceased her descent, pressing herself to the roof. At least it wasn't a gun. She couldn't outrun a bullet. Gina scarcely breathed, watching the man's approach-- with as scary as this guy looked, she began to wonder if she'd be able to outrun his blade.

Vicente made it to the bottom level of the bell tower in record time. Bowie knife in hand, the assassin stepped out through the excessively squeaky door and into the night air. It was not as cold down here, the breeze that fluttered across his skin, as it was up at the top of the bell tower. As a matter of fact the weather was quite pleasant. It almost made the assassin wish he were more going on a stroll than out to kill some mutant that was misidentified as being a demon. But the thought was only momentary and Vicente quickly shooed it away.

He had a job to do.

Marching straight towards the information booth, the killer snarled and bared his white teeth as he slashed and cutting away over hanging branches and vines that dared to attempt to get into his way. He was still a little peeved. He still could not believe he missed that shot. Vicente was a one of the best snipers, but some sort of providence must have been looking over that girl.

Thankfully if there was one thing that Vicente knew about those interloping “higher powers,” they only carried their worshippers so far. The girl would be his before the night was through…

Creeping up to the information booth, the assassin grinned to himself as he held up his knife. It gleamed momentarily in the moonlight, sending a flash of light across the abandoned garden. Even if the girl saw it from the tiny and cramped booth, she was not getting away.

Step…Step…Step…

He crept closer and closer until finally he pressed his back against the booth and followed its wall to the front. There was absolutely no noise coming from the structure so it made him imagine the small, demon-looking creature cringing into such unbelievable fear that he had to grin wide. He whispered to himself that he was doing her a favor. At least if he killed her it would be quick. Anyone else, well, they would probably make her experiences with them far worse.

Near the entrance to the booth, Vicente held his breath…counted to three…and stepped inside…

He found nothing.

Eyes wide, he looked left and right but there was absolutely no way to escape. The girl was gone! She did not stay cowering in fear like he had anticipated. The thought that he miscalculated yet again simply make the man’s anger raise…raise…and raise…

“ARRGH!!” he growled as he slammed his massive fists against the wall, shaking the entire structure. The man was pissed.

Nostril’s flaring, Vicente looking for something to smash when he looked down and saw a few splatterings of blood. Slowly he began to recompose himself as he eyed the droplets. They were fresh. That…could work.

Closing his eyes, the assassin snarled as his face began to twitch and quiver. Suddenly the bones sickeningly cracked and reshaped themselves underneath his skin. The assassin snarled and snapped at the air as pain wracked across his face. Within nearly a minute, his head had taken on the golden fur and fluffy mane of a lion. But on top of that, his face itself also changed, elongating into a large mouth with rows of sharp and deadly teeth. Predatory eyes darted around the small enclosure before he tilted his head and eyed the blood spots again. Leaning down, his pressed his black nose against the blood and inhaled.

Within a moment…he had the scent.

Snapping his head back around, the assassin stepped out of the information booth and began to track, following the nearly invisible (yet very scented) drops of blood. When he got a good lock on the direction…Vicente suddenly reared back and…

RRRWWWOOOOOOOOAAAAAAARRRRRRR!!!![/b]

His lion’s call echoed out and nearly shook every leaf in the garden. The man meant business. Knife in his and rough pink tongue brushing across his fangs, he immediately started the chase, following the scent directly towards a grouping of buildings that were none too far from the booth.

Gina's heart hammered so loudly that the pumping of her blood was all that she could hear rushing in her ears, and it filled her entirety. Gina shivered against the cold, metal roof. She scarcely breathed, only watched as the man hacked his way through the jungle of overgrown plants towards the information booth where Gina had been hiding moments earlier.

He wore a devilish little grin as he drew closer, before he slipped out of view, sandwiching himself to the kiosk. Gina shrank lower on the roof as the man slipped back into view, drawing closer to the entrance of the kiosk.

A pause, then an angry yell. Gina blanched, her shoulder spasming painfully. Silence fell again, then there was a fantastic rustling. The silence that followed was crushing. What was going on?

A figure exited, which from the waist-down, still seemed human. The face and neck, however, were contorted from that of the man who had entered the booth... what was that? It tilted its head back and--

RRRWWWOOOOOOOOAAAAAAARRRRRRR!!!![/i]

A lion head? But... an ugly old man had walked in there... what the heck was with the anthropomorphic lion? There was only one logical answer--

Mutant.

And, he was tracking her, sights set on the building. If Gina weren't so terrified, she'd be indignant with injustice. She'd had her fair share of run-ins with mutant-haters, but to be hunted by one of your own kind? Unheard of.

Gina was frozen, her wounded shoulder still spasming, as the lion-headed man closed in quickly. She couldn't go down, or if she did, not without a fight. How many people were hunting her? One, two? More? Fear of getting shot kept her from taking to the skies, and in the moments that had passed, the man reached the building.

Good God, Cat-Face, don't look up. Please, Gina prayed, small form immobile, yet tensed and ready to bolt. She didn't breath, didn't move-- even her tears had frozen in fear. Go away, don't look up.

The scent of blood was easy to follow, especially when someone had the nose of the king of the jungle. Vicente sniffed the air, caught a good whiff of the injured mutant's blood drops and darted to each and every single spot that it had fallen to. Leaning close to the droplets, he inhaled deep to refresh and gain a better hold on the scent. At one point he even got the drop on his nose and felt it clinging to his black nostrils. Reaching up, he wiped the blood off and smirked (odd to see a lion smirk, isn’t it?), and rubbed it into his ends of his fingers. He had a pretty good catch on her scent now.

Darting across the abandoned garden, the assassin stalked on until finally he reached the row of small buildings that laid none too far from the information kiosk. The blood splatters stopped there. But he lifted his head and sniffed the air.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” he said in a gravelly and predatory voice. His posture turning just slightly more casual, the man held out his bowie knife and dragged the point of it across the wall of one of the buildings. It chipped and still screeched as it did so. “Come on out, hunny,” he said with a grin.

Vicente was still tracking the mutant. He knew that she was somewhere nearby but he needed to keep her scared enough to paralyze her so he could lock on. With his voice taking on such a creepy and terrifying tone, it should have proven to be an effective strategy to keep her still.

At least that’s what he hoped. She had the disturbing ability of proving him wrong.

“Come out, come out,” he muttered as he strolled on. “Dying isn’t all that bad, little demon. Besides, the sooner you get it over with…the better.” he said as if he were a friend giving her the best piece of advice. “The longer you drag this out…the less patient I become. And trust me…you don’t…”

He paused.

Sniff…

Sniff…

So was so close by he could taste her. A glance to his side and he saw the small building. And he grinned. Slowly he looked up and spied that, indeed, there was a smattering of blood on the wall, much taller than she obviously was. The roof.

Vicente smirked as a snarl emitted from his throat and then…looked up.

“Gotcha…”

Gina closed her eyes tightly, trying to shut it all out—the sight of her own blood, which was flowering nicely from the tear in her shoulder, the pain that went with it, the fear that racked her body, and the lion-headed man who was behind it all. If she just stayed still, if she was as quiet as a mouse, he’d leave, and she’d be free to run.

And then, he started talking—he had such an awful, frightening voice. Ominously and sickeningly sweet like, a peach left too long in the sun. He taunted her, haunted her, with his tones.

>> “You’re close, aren’t you? Come on out, hunny.”

Gina tried not to listen, tried to ignore him. He was just toying with her head, trying to get her psyched out. Gina choked on a sob, gritting her teeth against it and stifling it with her scarf. He had already gotten to her, and it wasn’t even the fact that he’d called her a “demon”. It was the fact that he was painting his killing her to be a merciful thing, as if she deserved to die.

Even in her terror, Gina disagreed. Her life had been pretty good thus far, and she intended to keep on living it.

A dark silence fell once again, as he paused at the roof’s edge, gaze trained on a blood stain. His eyes then lifted, and their gazes locked.

>> “Gotcha.”

It took every fibre of Gina’s person not to get sick right then. She felt like the mouse in a game of cat-and-mouse, cornered against a wall. The lion’s grinning face only served to solidify the mental image.

“No—you stay away from ME!” Gina yelled. There was no point in being quiet, now that she’d been spotted. Her voice was raw with fear, and sorrow, and rage. Yes, rage—through the fearful film of tears, the flecks of amber within her eyes smoldered like a fire—how dare he even contemplate stealing the life that was her own! Though she was frightened, and wounded, the fire in her eyes made one point blatantly obvious—she wasn’t going down without a fight. Gina was determined to get out of this alive, “You stay away from me, you traitor!”

It was an immature insult, insinuating that by killing another mutant, the lion-headed man was betraying his very own genetic predisposition. By trying to kill Gina, he was breaking some unspoken loyalty to his own kind.

That being said, Gina literally sprung into action, vaulting over the crest of the roof and onto the other side of the rooftop. In doing so, Gina bought herself time—Cat-Face would have to circle the entire building, she would only have to descend down from the roof. Rather than scoot down slowly, Gina slid, claws out, down the metal surfacing. And, when she reached the edge, she leapt, breaking into a run when her feet hit the ground. She had to be quick, because she had another mutant on her tail, whose stride was definitely longer, and quite possibly a sniper still setting his sights on her (as far as she still knew).

Gina sprinted into the garden, carefully picking over overgrown plants, her little legs flying in an all-out sprint. She realized that, if she couldn’t outrun the man, she’d have to take him on—a face-off that would be most unfair if she didn’t have some sort of weapon of her own.

But, this was nothing but a rundown botanical garden, not an armory—the only things here were overgrown plants and gardening tools, from cutting the plants back and digging them up, not weapons…

An idea donned on Gina, and she quickly altered courses, not only towards the front gate, but towards an area of the garden that she knew to be in the process of being unearthed. The chances that any of her harebrained ideas would work? Still slim. But, she’d been a pretty lucky lady thus far, so Gina figured that there wasn’t any harm in pressing her luck once again.

>> “No—you stay away from ME!... You stay away from me, you traitor!”

The assassin smirk. How cute. How cute for her to actually think that he was being a traitor by seeking her out. What was he a traitor of, exactly? That was the question that bounced around in his head as he watched the young girl back away from the edge of the roof. He smirked as he watched her scurry away. Traitor? A traitor against men? Living creatures? Mutants? Freaks? Maybe she thought that he too was of the underworld or some hellish place where only the creatures such as they looked lived in.

But her words fell on deaf ears. He was not in the least affected. Over the years the assassin had become very good at turning a blind eye to his actions. He knew he was taking lives, sometimes innocent lives, but that was the nature of the business that he was inducted into very early in life. Over the years killing became easier and easier and easier, to the point that he did not blink twice to assignments that would make less hitmen cringe.

Code of ethics? Heh. His code of ethics was to complete whatever job he accepted.

And today was not going to be the day that he changed that.

He grinned as he heard her claws scurrying across the roof. “Now, now, little demon,” he called out. “You keep delaying my night and I’m going to make your end much, MUCH slower. You don’t want to know the atrocities I can do!!”

As he screamed the last part of the word, Vicente attempted to turn the corner and found himself staring at the wall brick wall that continued down the structure. He growled to himself as he cursed his luck. He had hoped to circle around the building and catch the little gargoyle on the other side. Now he was going to have to dart all the way in the other direction to make it around to the, just giving the little beast more time. Time was definitely not a commodity that he liked to hand out freely.

Running back around from the way he came, the growling, lion-headed man began to shift again. His arm cracked and popped as the muscles grew and elongated. Soon he bore a huge, black haired, gorilla arm in place of his human arm. It swung naturally with his gait as he turned the next corner and dashed around the building that the gargoyle had just been on.

Bowie knife in his remaining human hand, Vicente found himself behind the building and began to curiously sniff the air. That scent of blood was still in the air. No matter how hard she tried to get away from it, it was going to be plastered onto her body. She could be easy enough to track. But he needed to disable those wings, somehow. They were going to prove an irritation. As a matter of fact, he didn’t know why she had not taken to the air yet. Was she afraid? Maybe he clipped her wing worse than he thought? It didn’t matter. He needed them disabled, even if he had to break them off her very back!

The scent of blood struck his nose and the feline turned and sniffed. Getting a clear sense of the direction, Vicente continued the hunt. He wanted her terrified as seeing as she was heading back into the gardens, that should be an easy enough task.

RRWWWWWOOOOOOAAAAARRRRRR!!!![/b]

SMAAASH!!! CRAAACK!!![/b]

Running and following her scent, Vicente let out another roar as his gorilla arm smashed and crushed any bushes, tiny trees, and sculptures that lay in his back. The sound of his crashing, like a earthquake giving chase, should have been enough to keep her scared. It would pump her heart faster, cause her to run faster, and keep that wound she got from healing too fast.

Fear…it was a great ally…

His shout went unheard, for Gina was too busy trying to flee from him.

A wheelbarrow stood not too far off, against which, a variety of tools were propped. Gina grabbed the first gardening tool that she could get a hold of, a long-handeled shovel, and her shoulder twinged at the sudden effort. She sucked air in through her breath, and kept running. What she would do with the shovel, Gina wasn’t too sure—but, anything was better than being unarmed against a lion-headed guy with a massive knife.

Behind her, garden features were decimated by the stampeding man, the sounds of wood splintering and statues fracturing growing closer and closer-- he was gaining, but how quickly? Gina glanced over her shoulder to see, and her head swam with the sudden motion. She couldn't see him, but boy, could she hear him-- he sounded like a freight train. When she glanced over her shoulder, she spied the bloodstain, and had the dull realization that that was a lot of blood... too much, really.

With that thought in mind, Gina leapt, flying a few, short wingbeats into the top of a willow tree. It had been sheared of its cascading branches, leaving its ugly, bald branches grasping skywards. These made for perfect perches. Gina paused there, trapping the shovel between her clawed foot and the naked tree branch, while her hands numbly undid the scarf around her neck. Biting past the pain, she looped it around her arm and then pulled it up to where her arm connected with her torso. Using her teeth and her opposite hand, she tightened a knot there. And, for safe measure, looped it around and tied another knot. Gina wasn’t very knowledgeable in first aid, but her makeshift bandage would have to suffice. By now, she could see the lion-headed man on his approach, and Gina once again took the shovel up in her hand.

Rather than go down to the ground, Gina opted to fly, but kept below the tree-line, at about twenty feet off of the ground. She was still convinced that the sniper was up in the buildings, waiting for her, and that the lion-headed man was just trying to drive her out into the open, so that the shooter could line up a better shot that did the job. Thus, Gina flew low, her flight-path pointed towards the gate.

The lion-headed man was too close now, only a good 200 yards off and steadily gaining, so it wouldn't have be the wisest idea to attempt running once again.

Gina caught herself wishing that this were just some big, elaborate joke, or perhaps a nasty dream. Even now, her head began swimming and she felt disoriented, just as one in a waking dream might. But, unlike in a dream, her wounds actually hurt. Gina was cold, her whole body quivering restlessly from the frigid adrenaline that ran through her veins. Sickness simmered in her stomach, and she found her mind struggling to form coherent thoughts. She most certainly was not asleep, nor was she dreaming this, however appealing the idea seemed.

Had she been more cognizant, or even mildly knowledgeable of First Aid, she might have realized that she was steadily going into shock from the blood loss, and that her clock was ticking until she passed out. Gina didn’t realize any of this. She only knew that she felt awful, and had to get out of the park fast, if she wanted to get to safety. And, she had to get away from the lion-headed man.

She looked down at the lion-headed man below, who was now only a good one hundred yards behind her, and sporting a disproportionately large gorilla arm. In her stupor, she gave a short, unbalanced chuckle—fancy that, a man with a lion’s head and a gorilla arm! Boy, was he certainly a confused character—

Gina’s grip tightened on the shovel, her laugh quickly forming a hard frown when she realized that he was still coming closer to her. The lion-headed man couldn’t get her up here, right? Or could he sprout wings, too? The dread that washed over her with that thought urged Gina upward, wings mechanically taking in more air. Her gaze dropped again, the motion once again disorienting her. The pain had become familiar, now, so she tried to muscle through it.

“Go home!” she urged the lion-faced man, her words coming out in a bit of a slur because of her jumbled thoughts, “No lion… gorilla… people allowed!” What she really meant was to say her mantra for the evening, which was, ‘Stay away from me.’ But, when Gina realized that she hadn’t actually said that, she simply gave one of her unbalanced chuckles, and kept flying.

It was the hunt that Vicente loved. Maybe it was because of the types of animal blood he had coursing through his system, but whatever the case, it truly made filled his head with a sense of euphoria. Vicente was a smart man, he knew to keep his feelings out of a kill. But personally attaching himself to a kill and enjoying the euphoria of it were two different things. The man would not take pleasure in killing this little demon. No. But that did not mean he could not enjoy the idea of hunting the creature that tried so desperately to get away.

The hunt. That was why the man lived for. That is what the girl would die from…

Eyeing the trees, Vicente continued sniffing the air. He was getting closer. He could practically taste the gargoyle’s blood in his mouth. He began to take a slower stride as his golden, predatory eyes turned and gazed at every full treetop. The scent had climbed higher and it was enough to draw his attention and make him believe that she had ascended to the trees.

He cursed himself at that revelation. It just meant that he had not clipped her wing as well as he thought he did. That just angered him. He knew he was a better shot and yet he had trouble taking down one fluttering gargoyle? That was just insane…

But as he neared closer to one of the trees, Vicente was startled by the sudden sound of rustling. Looking up he watched as the little demon suddenly burst out of the tree-line and took off flying, keeping low but still just out of reach. But as he snarled and began to follow, he noticed that she was flying…just slightly off. It did not look as if it were on account of the gunshot through her wing, though. Instead she looked as if she were reacting differently...almost in a weak-like manner…

>> “Go home! No lion… gorilla… people allowed!”

He arched a brow as she growled. He could barely make out those slurred words. The thought made him grin. She was getting tired. Thankfully…he was far from it. As he chased after her, Vicente leapt over a flower bed but reached down with his massive gorilla hand. In doing so, he scooped up several large, smooth, and heavy rocks that were used to decoratively line the gardens. As he ran, catching up to her slowing speed, he grinned as he reared his massively muscular gorilla arm back, skid to a stop, then roared with all his might as he threw his arm in her direction.

“ARRGHHH!!!” he screamed, baring his yellowed fangs.

A barrage of smooth and heavy rocks of various sizes and colors suddenly flew through the air in the gargoyle’s direction. It looked almost as if it were a medieval scene of knights using catapults against a winged dragon. The rocks flew hard, flew fast, and were aimed with deadly accuracy at their intended target…

Given the situation, she dodged the rocks rather well-- she was woozy from blood loss, in pain, scared, and going into shock. Now, if anyone could have flied as well as she did while having all of that going against them, then they deserved to be nominated for an award. But even the best essentially-drunk flying was blatantly sub-standard to flying when all of your wits were about you.

Even so, that didn't help the fact that there were a lot of rocks, of about the cobble-size, that were being heaved in Gina's direction. Thankfully, Gina was watching the lion-headed man while she taunted him, so she saw the attack coming. The lion-headed man scooped the rocks up in his gorilla arm and slung them at Gina. He yelled, bared his fangs, and snapped the throw.

That put a little more pep in Gina's flying, her drowsy eyes going wide. She tilted to the side, in an attempt to dodge, but she wasn't faster than the fastest rocks. One well-sized stone clipped her wing, another hit her knee, and she lost her balance. A lot of balance was required in flight, and if it were interrupted, it was easy to fall. Gina wobbled, her wings reflexively pulling inward against the blows. The new pain was enough to snap her out of it, for a moment, but none too soon. She came to an uneasy stop on the ground, turning to face the lion-headed man.

He was too close, now-- too close for Gina to take off again and clear the ground, without him getting a hold of her tail and jerking her back down. She didn't take off that quickly. And, the blood loss was wearing her out-- she wouldn't last much longer if she was going to flee from him on foot. Gina was really glad that she'd grabbed the shovel, now. She still didn't know what exactly she'd do with it, but she'd think of something. Gina heaved a shaky sigh, shifting her grip on the shovel slightly. Maybe she could hit him in his feline face with it? That'd distract him. Or, it would just piss him off more... what if he grabbed the shovel and she didn't lay a blow on him at all? What then?

"I don't s'pose you'll want a compromise, would you?" Gina inquired, raising her voice as she addressed the lion-faced man. Her options weren't looking very favorable, so it was to propose compromises, "I could, y'know, 'Run away and never come back'?" Yes, she was still out of it. And now, she was quoting Lion King at the lion-faced man. Even in her stupor, she didn't expect him to agree, but as always, it was worth a shot.

The rocks soared through the air like asteroids flying up from the ground and heading into space. Vicente had put a lot of strength behind that throw because he was aiming to hurt. He needed to bring that gargoyle down. He was a little pissed off that he did not bring any handgun with him, hell, even his sniper rifle would have granted him the distance that he needed. But the rocks proved to be just as effective in the long run. The little demon was agile enough to dodge the first few but the rest managed to hit their mark.

CRUNCH!![/b]

THUD!![/b]

A few of the rocks managed to slip past the gargoyles swift flying speed and struck her hard and fast across her wing and knee. It was a good enough hit to knock her off balance and that was all he needed. She screeched out, spun in mid-air and came to a grudging stop as she flexed her wing, as if trying to regain her composure.

He smirked large and wide, his fangs glistening in the limited light as he stormed forward, gradually drawing out the suspense by slowing to a stroll. The lion licked his black lined chops as he stood before the groggy looking gargoyle. His gorilla hand curled into a massive fist as he stood before her, tilting his head. The little beast looked like she had something to say…

>> "I don't s'pose you'll want a compromise, would you? I could, y'know, 'Run away and never come back'?"

He paused, considered for a moment while his still human hand twirled the deadly looking bowie knife. For had a second it looked like maybe, just maybe it might have worked. That the words had gotten through to him.

But it was only for a second.

The lion smirked wide, his eyes glistening with a disturbing amount of bloodlust.

“See, you could do that,” he responded with a nod. “But then that leaves the problem of me not getting paid.” he shook his head as he raised his blade, letting the moonlight reflect off of it, shining its reflection into the gargoyles eyes momentarily just to continue to toy with her. “And I highly doubt you have enough money to pay for your life.” Shoulders shrugged briefly as he cracked his neck to the side. “Besides, even if you did have the money, where would the…”fun”[/b] be in that?”[/color]

He sighed as he shook his head and very slowly began to advance on her. At this range, if she tried to fly, he knew he could throw his knife and severe her spine with ease. He hoped she was not that stupid. Then again…maybe he did…

A sadistic grin swept across his lips as he held the knife up menacingly.

“Don’t worry sweetheart,” he smiled almost soothingly. “I can make it fast. It only hurts for a second…”