Gina didn't like the look that he wore, so contradictory to his words. Now came the part where the cat toyed with the mouse, prior to killing it-- Gina listened to him, this time, his words swimming as if this were indeed a dream.

>> "See, you could do that, but then that leaves the problem of me not getting paid--"

He flashed his blade at Gina, to which the gargoyle squinted, and kept the shovel tightly grasped in her hands. Oh, so he was getting paid to kill her--? She supposed that made it better than if he were killing another mutant on his own fruition. Pity, though-- it didn't change the fact that he was going to kill her.

>> "--And I highly doubt you have enough money to pay for your life. Besides, even if you did have the money, where would the... "fun" be in that?"

Gina frowned, stepping back as the lion-headed man drew closer. Her brow furrowed. He'd been paid a lot to kill her, more money that Gina had towards her name... or, if she did have the money, what would the sport be in letting her live? So, the compromise was a bust.

"That's a shame," Gina commented. She didn't say what was a shame, for this whole situation was looking pretty grim. If she died, then it would be a shame that she did so, if she lived, then it would be a shame that the lion-headed man wasn't going to get his money. Either way, someone lost.

>> “Don’t worry sweetheart-- I can make it fast. It only hurts for a second…”

"That makes me feel a lot better," Gina grumbled, managing a sarcastic tone despite her slipping focus. She rose her shovel, trying to ignore her hammering heart, her quivering hands. Her body language said anything but surrender. Her tail flicked as if she were the one waiting to pounce, and she sank lower to the ground, lowering her center of gravity. She didn't taunt him or tell him to bring it on, she just looked at the lion-headed man with a steady gaze, which was so intent, she might have almost seemed lucid. Whether she lived or died was irrelevant-- all that mattered was that, if she went, she went out with a fight.

Vicente could be a reassuring. Who said he couldn’t be? He had tried to explain to the gargoyle that her death could be nice and quick. He said it as softly as possible (which ironically meant that his voice probably sounded like gravel), he even revealed to her that none of this was personal. He was hired to kill her, therefore she need not have to wonder what she did wrong. Somebody just wanted her eradicated from existence. It was as simple as that. Considering that the little demon looked to be around her teenage years, he had to remark that she probably had a fulfilling life. After that age, everything goes downhill, after all.

She met his commentary with sarcasm and he smirked. So she still had a little fire in her belly. That was almost impressive. Someone her age would normally beg and scream about the unfairness of the world in the same situation.

It was almost a shame indeed that he had to kill her.

>> "That makes me feel a lot better,"

She had thrown that comment back at him at his saying how quick her death can be. He really did mean it as a comfort, but the sarcasm was evident. He shook his head. She was still angry. Why couldn’t they ever just make it easy?

He advanced…and she took a stance, hefty up her shovel. That was really the cutest thing he ever saw. He doubted that she really had the skill to defend herself from him. But it was cute to watch nonetheless. Even the most quietest and meekest of people tended to lash out when cornered.

But that was enough playing around. He really had a job to do and, of course, time was money.

“Well, as fun as this has been, I really must be going. I do have other clients that I need to meet with and,” he shrugged with a smirk. “Unfortunately I still need to claim that head of yours.”

Flexing his gorilla fist, the Vicente took two or three steps before he suddenly broke out into an all-out charge, teeth bared, fangs glistening, and gorilla first reared back. As he came within striking distance, Vicente suddenly shot his massive, open gorilla hand straight at the girl’s throat…

The lion-headed man continued his advance, slowly at first, but Gina held her ground.

>> "Well, as fun as this has been, I really must be going. I do have other clients that I need to meet with and unfortunately, I still need to claim that head of yours.”

Gina didn't answer any further than tightening her grip on the shovel, her lips forming a hard line. Stop toying with me, just finish this... His steps were slow, at first, but then grew to a thunderous charge. His mutated, gorilla-fist snapped back and, when Gina was within reach, lunged for Gina's throat--

Perhaps it was for the better that she wasn't herself tonight. For, if Gina had all of her wits about her, she might not have had the resolve to do this--

As the lion-headed man grasped for her, Gina's body moved mechanically, wings clasping against her back as she dipped out of reach, sinking low to the ground. As if in slow motion, the lion-headed man stumbled past. In those moments, Gina brought the shovel back, then forward, sharply.

Crunch!

The smooth, metal head of the shovel connected with the man's kneecap, connecting with such force that Gina dropped the shovel. It had jarred her, ears ringing and arms still buzzing as she glanced back. Lion-headed man's knee gave.

Head still humming, Gina simply said, "Damn-- karma," and began running once again. If the lion-headed man gave chase, she would need another shovel. If he didn't, she needed to get out of there. Gina wasn't too sure how hard she had hit him, but she was going to take advantage of however long he was distracted. She might be able to hop the wall before the lion-headed man caught up with her.

(Permission to hit Vicente with a shovel, granted by Jorge!)

Vicente went for it. Nothing was going to get in his way now. His arm lashed out, hand wide open, ready to seize the little demon by her throat and crack that most precious neck of hers. He was getting tired of this night, especially since he did really have other things that needed to get done. The gargoyle had wasted enough of his time, she had managed to showcase her strength, she had that little spark in her belly of defiance, but now was the time to put all pretenses away. She was going to die…and he was going to be the one to end her life.

His massive hand flew out. Fingers arched and ready to wrap around that beast’s thin neck. He so wanted to hear that snap of vertebrae snapping and crushing underneath his hand.

But his confidence turned out to be his downfall.

All Vicente felt for a moment was air. He extended too far, the weight of his flying and massive arm sent him stumbling forward. It was such a novice move that he cursed himself. He certainly knew better than this, but for some reason, his arrogance got the better of him.

And boy did he pay for it.

Stumbling forward, Vicente struggled to right himself up when he turned and noticed that the damned little gargoyle had actually managed to roll away under him. He cursed her short stature and her ability to continue to do all this even with a gunshot wound to distract her. She was sluggish but the little demon prove time and again to find small bursts of clarity and energy that continued to shock him over and over again.

It was only as he was righting himself up that he turned his lion head to face her…when he saw the shovel flying through the air.

>> Crunch!

RRRRWWWWWOOOOOOOOAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR!!![/i]

>> "Damn-- karma,"

Vicente crumbled down onto his knee as he snarled and roared up into the heavens. He felt his kneecap go. It was not broken but it came damn near close to it. He breathed heavily, hissed and growled as balanced on one knee on the ground, nursing the badly injured knee. Tear stung his eyes as finally opened them and turned to see the gargoyle bolting away. Shakily he struggled onto his remaining good leg, breathing heavily as he began to chase after…

“YOU LITTLE *explicative deleted*…!!!” he screamed as he struggled into a much slower limp after the girl, but used his longer gorilla arm to aide in his movement. That did not mean that the distraction of the pain was not present. But he fought through it. He fought through it hard as he roared out again after the feeling demon. “I’LL KILL YOU!! I’LL RIP YOUR *explicative deleted*-ING HEAD OFF!!!”

It worked a little like the cartoons-- big, mean cat, chasing an innocent, "harmless" mouse or bird-- then, out of nowhere, that defenseless creature draws a really big hammer (or, in this case, a shovel), and whacks its hunter in some form or fashion, thereby incapacitating it. The big difference? Well, in cartoons, it was actually funny.

Gina was struggling to find the humor in the matter. She did emit a shrill, nervous laugh at the irony of it all. The lion-headed man was just fine with killing her, sure, but he was creating such a big fuss about a busted kneecap? Hypocrite. Obviously it wasn't totally broken, though-- he was still chasing her.

"I offered you a compromise!" Gina reminded the man, with a winded shout. Not that he cared. The lion-headed man was screaming expletives after her, telling Gina that he would kill het and rip her head off. To which she simply gave a sigh. Hadn't that already been established?

He limped after Gina, hindered by the busted knee, but not crippled. And, he was ticked off-- there wasn't any time for grabbing another shovel. She either got out now, or wasn't going to make it. Her breaths were shallow, now, and rattling within her chest. A darkness was creeping into her peripherals, and Gina knew it to be impending unconsciousness.

Not yet.

The front gate was up ahead, chained shut by a weak chain and a Master lock. It was not a beacon of freedom, but a halfway mark. Cat-Face would have no troubles breaking through.

Not yet.

Rather than squeeze through the gap between the two doors, Gina lept, her wings spreading and catching air, propelling her over the fence's top. She cleared the fence and took a few stumbling steps forward, and risked a glance back.

He was still coming. It was just then that the full force of her terror hit her-- what if she never got away? What if that unconsciousness overcame her, and he did indeed rip her head off? She was too weak to take to the skies, she had to keep running.

Her vision began to tunnel again, as Gina turned and darted into thr darkened, surrounding park, towards where she knew the street to be--

Help me, dear God, don't let me die--

>> "I offered you a compromise!"[/color]

The little demon fiend was so dead! That was the only thought that stampeded through Vicente’s mind as he chased after the fleeing girl. He could still smell the blood clearly in his nose as he dashed on, trying to follow her scent. She had been wounded pretty bad. Judging by how she was reacting earlier, it seemed more and more like she was going to slip into shock. But damn it, it just was not happening fast enough. She still had enough energy and a clear head to continue running from him, gaining distance between them. He could simply wait her wait; watch her until she passes out and then collect his prize like that. But he couldn’t take that chance. The little demon had proved to indeed have Lady Luck on her side while he kept coming up with craps.

Vicente was more than irritated now. He wanted to gargoyle dead at any cost. At this point, he really didn’t care if he was paid at all. All he wanted was to stick her head on a pike. She had proven to be enough of a nuisance and the world would definitely be a better place without the little pest.

Snarling as he charged through, limping and having to support some of his weight on his gorilla arm, the assassin stomped and broke through anything that was in his way. Absolutely nothing was safe from this wrath so long as that gargoyle was still alive.

He tried to think about how he could stop here. She was running, fast, but the faster she ran, mixed with her body already wanting to go into shock, he knew that she was getting closer and closer to completely running out of fuel. So long as he made her run and did not give her a chance to catch her breath, she was sure to succumb to her wounds before long.

But as the assassin ran, he noticed that they were getting closer and closer to the sounds of traffic. He could hear the street up ahead which meant only one thing…

“Damn it!” he snarled as he continued the chase.

She was getting closer and closer to the street which meant she could flag down help. Even though it was night, it was not that late. There were still people out, plenty of which who would have loved to be interlopers and help sniffling, bleeding young gargoyle who desperately needed help. And as much as he had no problem with taking out a bunch of pedestrians who were stupid enough to get in his way, Vicente was also smart enough to know that he was in no condition to fight off many. No, letting her get to help was simply not an option.

Roaring out loud to reveal that he was close, he continued the chase of thrashing and growling at everything in his path. The smell of sweat, blood, and most of all, fear was growing stronger. He was right behind her. He knew it…

The fathomless darkness of the surrounding parkwas enough to disorient anyone, but particularly for someone who was fighting off unconsciousness. How much of this was tunnel-vision, and how much was nighttime? How far was the road, and how close was the lion-headed man? Gina followed her ears, breathing far more raggedly than she should have. Behind her, the man was snarling, and Gina cast him a glance--

Again, her head reeled at the motion. Bad idea. She would just have to trust her ears and her feet. Up ahead, she spied the glimmers of street lights, as if through an unfocused lense. Also, the headlights of passing cars.

Sweet salvation.

Gina stumbled onto the sidewalk, nearly losing her balance. A car drew close, and she rapped frantically on the window.

"Please, help me," she sighed in desperation, tears welling up. The driver leaned on their horn, and Gina stumbled back, disoriented, as they went on. She was so tired and so scared, and she couldn't stop trembling. She went to the next car, running up the side of tge road, and the next. No one stopped, and she was certain that the lion-headed man was on her tail.

She spied a lone pedestrian, a good distance up the street. A man, but with how Gina's head was spinning and how blurry her vision was, it was hard to discern little else.

"H-hey," she began shakily, before yelling, "Hey! Help! Please!" That shout took her breath away. She somehow found the energy to close the distance between her and the stranger, but when she got close enough, one of her legs just gave in exhaustion, and she nearly toppled into him. Tears were flowing freely, and her eyes were losing focus. Gina's now-bloodsoaked scarf may have colored his shirt upon collision.

"'m-'m sorry, p-please, y-y-you gotta help me," Gina pleaded, taloned hands curling into the stranger's shirt. She was trembling so intensely that her voice quivered, "He's trying to kill me. H-he--" her vision tunneled again, her grip loosening, "--S-shot me. P-p-please don't let him-- I d-don't-- please--" Her legs finally gave beneath her, but Gina clung to consciousness. She couldn't run any longer.

God, she hoped that this guy wasn't anti-mutant.

Vicente growled as he ran. He was gaining on her. She was getting tired and the scent of her blood and fear was only continuing to grow more prominent. He would be on her in mere moments! All he had to do was get out of this damn garden, away from the darkness and corner that spry little demon in a corner so the he could finish her off. But even as he continued on in their chase, suddenly Vicente ground to the halt. New scents assaulted his nose. The smell of oil, of exhaust, of a plethora of other people….

“No!” he snarled as he burst out of the last bush just in time…to see the gargoyle run out into the street.

>> "Please, help me,"

She begged for help. But people rarely stopped to help strange looking people on the side of the road. He grinned as he continued his advance. She had nothing left. All he had to do was walk up to now. By the time he got there, she would be passed out and he could—

He paused. Grinding to a halt, Vicente suddenly ducked off to the side, hiding himself in the shadow of a small information booth. From there he watched as the gargoyle ran to someone who happened to be walking by. Narrowing his feline eyes, Vicente focused as he watched on from the darkness. Curse after curse fell from his lips as he watched this. Damn pedestrians! Who walks around at this time of night?

But as he watched from his hiding place, he suddenly paused when he released who it was…

“Cervantes,” he snarled menacingly and slowly embedded himself deeper in the shadows as he watched the police officer brandish his gun protectively. “Damn,” was all Vicente could mutter in response and watch…

Jorge sighed. He could not believe he was actually doing this. Almost two months ago he had given an elderly mutant woman his number because she had been attacked and did not want to be alone. He had figured that she would use it once or twice out of fear before growing accustomed to the life again. What he sincerely did not expect was the barrage of phone he would receive about everything from a possible strange noise outside her window to the last gossip about the feuding and cheating neighbors. And telling her to stop was no good.

Now he was out looking for her cat. Apparently her “very special snookums” but a cat nonetheless. The detective sighed as he wandered down the street and whistled over and over again.

“Here Samson! Come on!” he whispered as he strolled through the streets and shook his head. “Come on, you freak little white ball of fur,” he grumbled as she stuffed his hands into his coat pockets.

The detective used to love working the beat. He still did. He had the endurance and the energy for it. But unfortunately right now, he did not feel it. It was not because he did not like helping people, but there were indeed better ways for him to use his time in helping people than simply looking for lost cats. He shook his head but continued to press on.

“Five more minutes,” he mumbled to himself. “Just five more minutes.”

He pressed on. Rounding the corner, his ears suddenly perked at the sound of distress…

>> "H-hey…Hey! Help! Please!"[/i]

Jorge squinted his eyes as he stared into the darkness. There was a young…something…staggering towards him in clothing that definitely looked worst for the wear. She staggered, her wings limp and weak, her footsteps shaky, but her voice desperate for help. Quickly the detective jogged up to her and immediately took notice of the fact that he was dealing with a harmed mutant.

“Oh my god, Miss,” Jorge said as he ran up to her side. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

>> "'m-'m sorry, p-please, y-y-you gotta help me…He's trying to kill me. H-he--S-shot me. P-p-please don't let him-- I d-don't-- please--"

Her legs gave out and before Jorge knew it she was tumbling down towards him. Quickly his strong arms reached out and snagged up the young lady before she crash unceremoniously onto the concrete. He shook his head as he held her close and slowly knelt down so that there was no risk of dropping her. His arm supported her, cradling her close to his chest. As he did, with his free hand he pulled his gun from the holster and held it up, pointing it at the shadows that seemed like they wanted to enclose and trap him the whole time.

“Don’t worry hunny, I gotcha,” he said as encouragingly as he could. Snapping his head up, the detective eyed the darkness and looked around, seeking anything out of the ordinary. His gun trained forward, he held his breath as he watched. When nothing happened he slowly holstered his gun and pulled a cell phone from his pocket. He smiled encouragingly at the young gargoyle-looking woman. “Stay with me sweetie, don’t fall asleep. Tell me what happened. What’s your name?” he asked.

Holding his cell phone up to his ear, the detective spoke into the receiver and called it in…

The stranger caught Gina before she could crumple to the pavement, pulling her in close as he drew his gun. Thank God, he had a gun. Gina's quiet tears turned to silent, relieved sobs, a smile touching her face. Finally, someone who'd help her-- someone who could defend her from the lion-headed man. She mutedly followed the direction in which the gun was trained, her tired, tearful brown eyes skimming the shadows. She saw nothing. The fearful, irrational part of her was secretly praying that the lion-headed man would stumble out into the street on his unawares, just so that the kind stranger could shoot him. It would pul a finality on this night. She wouldn't always be looking over her shoulder.

But, Gina saw nothing. She returned her attention to the stranger, who had settled her to the ground to prevent further falls. Gina continued to knot her hands in his shirt, clinging close like she was a terrified child. It wasn't really necessary, now that she was planted on the ground, but she couldn't help it. Much like she couldn't help the violent trembling that she was experiencing, or her chills. Her breath hitched slightly.

>> “Don’t worry hunny, I gotcha.”

Nothing came. The kind stranger replaced the gun within its holster, drew a cell phone. A thrill of fear ran through her. Don't put the gun away-- what if he comes and gets us both--?! Gina said nothing, but uttered a small noise of distress. The closest she came to a complaint was, "Nnn--- I got b-blood all over y-your shirt."

The stranger seemed to know what he was doing, so she didn't ask him to take the gun out again. Her complaint was the one that followed the first, in her mind-- she had stopped mentally fussing over her wounds, and was now turning her attention to the stain that they'd left on the man's shirt. It was going to be difficult to get out in the laundry. (She wasn't all there, okay-? She needed something to fuss over.) Her vision darkened again, and her head bobbed. The man's voice snapped her out of it.

>> “Stay with me sweetie, don’t fall asleep. Tell me what happened. What’s your name?”

"--was jus' closing m-my eyes," Gina answered quietly. Not sleeping, but passing out-- get it right. She'd been running and fighting unconsciousness this entire time. Didn't she deserve a little break yet? She was so tired, and so cold-- her hands wouldn't stop shaking and nothing made sense. The world around her was still swimming, and a nausea was still buried at the pit of her stomach. Didn't she earn a nap, yet?

"Gina," she answered simply. Her tongue felt heavy, as if she were sleeptalking, "I jus'-- I went to th-that g-g-garden, and-" she turned her eyes towards the buildings, looking for snipers, "--S-s-someone shot m-me-" Gina broke off, her brain churning with the difficulty of the task. She could remember what happened, but-- it was all jumbled in her head. She couldn't make anything of it, "-Then th-the guy... he ch-chase-d me with a... r-really big knife. A-and-" Gina began to hiccup once again, trying to swallow in more breath. The motion jarred her wound, and hurt, but she couldn't breath-- her panic was finally setting in,"-he had a l-lion's head, a-and I-I hit him w-with a sh-shove-l--"

That was about as good as the relayed tale was going to get until she got medical attention. Gina blacked out, only for a moment, once again. Her head bobbed back up slowly, and she looked towards the shadows. This kind stranger wasn't going to let the lion-headed man get to her. She was safe, she was still alive-- she'd made it thus far. Gina let herself give a small smile as her head lolled back towards the man before her. That in mind, she let the darkness that colored her peripherals seep into the rest of her eyes, so that her eyes slid shut, and she surrendered to the unconsciousness.

A gun was pulled and Vicente immediately snarled.

“Damn you, Cervantes,” he mumbled silently to himself “What the hell are you doing here?”

He met the man once before. He had thought that he was going to be his next great project. A man of a similar background with a warrior’s spirit. Someone who Vicente believed had the drive and power to become far more powerful than he allowed himself to be. Vicente had truly believed that he found a fellow warrior and together they could have bent this world down to its knees.

But…the man had to end up being a cop. And not just any cop, an extremely dangerous and powerful cop that Vicente actually had a little apprehension about. That did not mean that he did not think he could not kill the man if he needed to. But there was the smallest, inkling of doubt that made him believe that maybe, just maybe this man could turn out to be a challenge for him.

And there he was, cradling that injured gargoyle and looking extremely alert.

Judging by how he limped and the energy he already spent trying to kill that little gargoyle, he knew that he was not in the best of positions of taking on someone like Jorge. Not right now, anyways. He would have to take up this fight later, but for now, he needed to simply slip away. The idea of letting that demon go gnawed at his stomach though. And damn it how he wanted to end her life. But…there would be other times…

He wouldn’t get paid for this. But he shrugged it off. That knowledge would only serve to fuel him to hunt her down later. After all…no one could stay hidden away forever.’

A snarly leaving his lips, Vicente slowly and painfully shifted his head and arm back to human form and he turned to exit to the bell tower. It was better that he collect his stuff now and vacate before the rest of the cops and emergency officials came.

There would always be later to deal with the gargoyle…and Jorge Cervantes….

He snapped his phone shut the second he called in to dispatch. With that done, he turned his attentions back onto the bleeding, sobbing girl in his arms that looked be ready to fall into shock. What the hell happened to her?

Jorge had a devil of a time keeping the young woman conscious. He knew that she was tired. Judging from her wounds, he was not surprised in the least. But he did not know the full extent of her wounds. She could have an number of harms, all of which would only be exasperated by the act of sleeping. She needed to be conscious, at least until he saw the flashing lights of the ambulance. So he did his best to keep her talking. So long as she was talking, that was all he needed to know that she was okay.

She grumbled about his spilling blood on his shirt, about just wanting to rest her eyes and he smiled a little sadly. She was fighting like a tiger but she was quickly losing the war.

He kept a careful eye out and waited, watching to see if anything came out of the darkness. So far everything was as quiet as a tomb. A couple of concerned pedestrians came running up to see if everything was okay, but Jorge managed to quell their concerns when he was able to fish out his badge from his wallet to show that he was NYPD. People still stayed, some calling in to 9-1-1 to say that they needed to hurry because the girl was beginning to look bad. Jorge was thankful for the assistance as he held the girl gently.

He urged her to talk more and the mutant finally began to go into what happened…

>> "Gina…I jus'-- I went to th-that g-g-garden, and-S-s-someone shot m-me- Then th-the guy... he ch-chase-d me with a... r-really big knife. A-and-he had a l-lion's head, a-and I-I hit him w-with a sh-shove-l--"

Jorge listened intently. If there was one thing that a man learns how to do being a cop, is learning how to listen. The girl was slipping into shock and exhaustion. Down the street he heard the piercing sound of a siren wailing and sighed a bit in relief. At least the cavalry was here. But as he turned his attention back to Gina, as she so identified herself, he suddenly paused.

“Lion head?” his focus turned intently onto the girl. “With a big knife? Hunny, are you sure?” But she was already slipping away to sleep.

Looking up, past the pedestrians, Jorge turned his attention directly onto the abandoned gardens. Gina’s words immediately flashed him back to months earlier. Reports of a young, snake-haired mutant having been attacked by another man. A man sporting a lion’s head and knives. Jorge couldn’t be sure it was the same person, but something in the back of his tingled. The Lion Man…he surfaced again…

Continued in Aftermath.