Not sure I'd call Bob 'normal' considering that he's a master of cinema-style Kung-Fu, thinks nothing of walking around with cloth wrappings for shoes, and is agitated but not particularly surprised when howling demons sneak in through his apartment window.
But still...you do have a point...
...and with that, here's the finale of 'Spin the Bottle'. Everyone lemme know what you think.
--------------------------
“Bytor, get down!” I scrambled to my feet and leapt as far as I could. A lance of flame shot upward from the bottle’s neck, pooling in a cloud of flame about ten feet off the ground. I hit the ground, rolled to a stop, and watched as the formless fire swirled, gaining definition and shape. In less than a second it’d taken a vaguely human form. A woman’s form, only flame.
She raised her arms and howled and fire burst out from her in a constant stream. She spun, whipping her fire around like a scythe. The Circle mystics, stunned by the sudden disruption of their ritual, made no attempt to get away. They were gone in an eyeblink, vaporized away with only the rough outline of a shadow seared into the ground.
The howling turned to some kind of language, spoken rapidly, and the fire-woman continued her massacre. A fireball burned through a Circle thug who dropped dead as the fiery projectile ignited the Ninja that'd been creeping up behind him. A group of Hellions ran screaming into the woods, clothes aflame, their panic spreading and sending pretty much everyone in the clearing into a general retreat. Some got away, most didn’t.
“Holy sh*t.” Said Bytor. He was lying on the ground next to me.
The screams were dying away now. Bits of grass and tree limbs flickered and burned along with several dozen bodies. There were no moans or cries for help, only a little wind and the crackling of whatever was still burning.
I looked up. Ahead of me the vaguely female inferno gained shape and substance. Fire smoothed out, died away, leaving not ash but a long-legged, curvy body with skin like polished obsidian. There were no clothes, and her thigh-length flame-colored hair—not the carroty red you might be thinking, more a campfire caught in freeze-frame—cascaded down her back, concealing nothing. Her eyes were warm yellow light, and they locked with mine.
“Howdy.” I said, standing. Bytor did the same. The fire-woman stared. Behind her, the Oriental pulled himself up. She spun, hands glowing angrily. Some of his minions had survived. Singed and hooded, they stood and moved to join their leader.
I don’t remember stepping forward, but the next thing I knew I was beside the fire-woman, cracking my knuckles. Bytor stood opposite of her, eyes flicking from one hooded assasain to another. Lightning arced between his fingers.
“An impasse.” The Oriental declared. There was no defeat in his voice.
“Guess so.” I said.
“There will be another time.” He assured. “Bob, wasn’t it?”
I shook my head. “Commando Bob, to you.”
He smiled slightly and walked away, his thugs preceding him into the woods.
Fire-girl was giving me a speculative stare. There was an odd scent in my nostrils, like good incense.
“Hurriyyah” She muttered, then collapsed.. I blinked.
“Huh.” said Bytor. We looked down at her. She didn't try to get back up. She might've been asleep.
I shrugged. Bytor took off his coat and wrapped the flame-girl up in it.
"Hospital?" He asked.
I didn't really know where to take an unconscious genie, but Jill would.
"Hospital." I agreed.
* * *
"Genie bottle, huh?"
"Yeah." I replied. I was back in my apartment. In front of me was a brand new thirty-two inch television set. Some forensic-themed show was on. "Doctor said she expended too much energy and just passed out, nothing major."
"The doctor knew what to do with a djinni?" Jill asked. She sounded a lot more rested than she had hours before, even over the phone. I'd checked on her when I'd brought the genie-girl in, but she had been sleeping.
"He was a specialist." I said.
"I love this town." Jill chuckled. "Odd that she didn't fade out or something. She manifested."
"The doc said something like that. He thinks it's willful, not permanent, though."
"That's really odd. Most spirits don't like being bound to this plane, it sort of inhibits their freedom of action. Can't wait to get talk to her...she can talk, right?"
"Yeah." I paused for a second. When the ebon-skinned fire spirit had awoke she'd thrown a hissy fit. No one really understood a word of what she'd been screaming. "Not sure she speaks English."
"There's spells for that." Jill said confidently. "Glad she's all right."
"Me too."
"You saved her, Bob. Like a real superhero." I could hear the smile in Jill's voice.
"Don't start."
"Commando Bob, huh?"
"Do not start."
Jill giggled. She doesn't often giggle.
"Think you could give me a ride home when they let me out tomorrow?"
"I can do that."
"Okay." Silence for a moment. "Hey Bob?"
"Yeah?"
"I knew you'd do it. I mean....I knew you'd be able too."
I felt my damned face heat up. I didn't say anything.
"You and whoever left the bottle." I finally replied.
"Yeah...wonder who did that."
"I dunno."
"See you tomorrow."
"Sleep good."
We hung up.
I leaned back on my couch, looked around. I was glad she hadn't razzed me too hard about the superhero thing. I'd had enough of that already. My apartment had been clean and mostly fixed when I'd came home. There'd been a plate of cookies on the counter. Big, fat, double-choclate chip cookies. The note on top had explained how pleased Mrs. Jimenez and the rest of the building were that I'd finally applied for my license. Wincott had come by and told them.
I sighed. I wasn't going to be a superhero, license or no. That silly piece of paper would expire in a year, and I wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. I took a bite out of one of the cookies.
The phone rang. I didn't recognize the number on the caller ID. I let it ring.
"Telemarketers." I growled.
The answering machine picked up.
"Hey Bob, it's Bytor. Working with you rocked, man. Got something I was looking into I thought you might wanna help with. Saving people and kicking butt. Makes me happy. Wanna give me a hand, call me back."
I nibbled my cookie. The unmistakable theme song of 'Magnum P.I.' emanated from the TV. I heard a siren in the distance.
Bytor had helped me out; I probably couldn't have rescued the genie chick without his help. Jill would've been disappointed, and I probably wouldn't be watching my new TV and eating choclate cookies if he hadn't came along for the ride.
I could help him out once. Repay the favor.
I picked up the phone, dialed Bytor's number. Just once, I'd tell him. I'm not a real superhero. Didn't mean I couldn't help him out.
"Yo." Bytor's voice seemed as yellow as his outfit. "This Commando Bob?"
"Yeah." I said. "It's Commando Bob."
End
Topic: Spin the Bottle (Read 14259 times)