Clement was on his feet, drawing his curved sword before the door handle turned even a quarter of the way. By the time the handle had finished turning, Clement had crossed the room. He hefted his sword in both hands and brought it down without hesitation the moment the door opened.
Anyone intruding on their room without so much as the courtesy of a knock was either an enemy or rude to the point of deserving death.
The door slammed shut. The massive sword caught on the wood of the wall, sending splinters and debris exploding outwards.
Before he had a chance to dislodge his sword, the door swung wide open.
A flash of red slipped in and made it under his guard before he could react.
Clement pulled his hands back, just in time to avoid an elbow coming down onto his wrist.
Despite only avoiding the elbow an instant before, there was already one hand on the back of his helmet and another gripping his wrist.
He didn’t have the time to react before his faceplate smashed into the wall, breaking through drywall and a wooden beam. His arm bent backwards, saved from breaking thanks only to the rigid limitations of his armor.
A pressure on his ankle culminated in his feet being kicked out from under him.
Clement’s helmet dragged through the wall under the pull of gravity. Drywall ground to dust. Enchantments on his helmet kept his breathing clear, but did nothing to help his occluded vision.
He placed his free hand against the wall and shoved.
His red-haired assailant released his arm and simply sidestepped as his massive bulk flew through the room.
Landing on his feet, Clement pulled himself to his full height. He unlatched his face plate to get a view of the room.
The sight caused a prompt frown to settle on his face.
“We’re going to have to pay for that.”
His sword hung embedded in the wall parallel to the floor. Its emerald encrusted hilt stuck out, pointing towards him. The less said about the hole his helmet had made, the better.
Gertrude’s sole green eye danced with mirth. “Hmm. Don’t care. A little sloppy aren’t we?”
Clement shrugged. There wasn’t much else he could do. He had never once beaten Gertrude in a spar. “Back already?” he asked after a moment.
“I just had the strangest encounter,” Gertrude said, spinning in a wide circle. Droplets of blood flew from one hand, speckling a still-intact wall with tiny red spots.
Clement glanced back to the kitchen and his bowl of cereal. It was far enough away to avoid the blood and most of the drywall dust in the air. Most.
It would probably be fine.
Still, his frown deepened as he glanced back to Gertrude.
“You didn’t get the milk.”
“I just had the strangest encounter,” she repeated in
Clement just sighed. He allowed the bulk of his armor to sink into the apartment’s couch.
The couch groaned out protests against the weight.
Clement never much liked protesters.
“Alright,” he said, “tell me about your encounter.”
“There was a little girl blocking the doorway–rude,” her snarl turned thoughtful. “And a fire hazard. Anyway, cleared my throat. She turned around, giving me a glimpse of her eyes. Black sclera, red iris, slit pupil. Sound familiar?”
“A demon? What happened to research first?”
“Well, I didn’t know she would be there,” Gertrude said as she skipped across the room. With a hop, she landed right on Clement’s lap. “But her hands and legs were made out of some hard exoskeleton. The hands were particularly sharp.” She waved her cut hand around as she wiggled around on his greaves.
Probably not the most comfortable thing. His armor was not as soft as the couch. Gertrude didn’t show any signs of discomfort. She simply angled herself to the side and stretched herself out with her head and feet on either armrest.
Throughout it all, the couch protested more.
It would have to go.
“But here’s the thing,” she said. “The girl said that she was human.”
“A lie. Incomplete disguise or natural form. Bad at hiding herself or unable to?”
“Neither. I believe her.”
Clement glanced down at Gertrude with his perpetual frown deepening further. “You believe her,” he said when she failed to elaborate.
“Her hands had obvious graft points. I couldn’t see graft points for her legs or eyes, but I’m sure they existed. She claimed to have been experimented on by a necromancer. Given her age, she probably mistook some diabolist.”
“The Elysium Sister did mention that they had originally come here to exterminate a necromancer.”
Gertrude waved her bloody hand around. “Details.”
“So? Course of action?”
“Eradication, of course.”
“Simple as that? No pity for an experimented upon human?”
Gertrude let out a melodious laugh. “Pity? And here I thought we knew each other after twenty years.”
Clement shrugged. There wasn’t much else he wanted to do. If she desired eradication, she would have it. He would dive head first into Hell if Gertrude asked.
