Saturday, December 2, 2017

BLADE OF INNOCENCE, Highlander the TV series fan fiction

Excerpt from Chapter 7 of the fan novel now available on Wattpad:

            "Somebody's there," Amanda murmured. She tugged on his arm, taking the lead in going around the back of the building instead of going in through the front door.

            He nodded, feeling the flicker of Immortal energy.  After a long, boring, melodramatic movie in Italian and two glasses too many of wine with his vermicelli, that wasn't a particularly pleasant sensation.

            "It's probably Richie," he said, when they reached the back door and he unlocked it.  "You go on upstairs and I'll see what he wants."


            "Hopefully not some advice for his love life, this late at night."  She smiled as she headed up the steps. "Don't be too long."  She swung her little shopping bag enticingly  and hurried into the darkness.  Amanda had been dropping hints about what she had bought all through dinner.

             Duncan nodded and smiled, but his smile faded as he pushed open the stairwell door and walked through the storage room of the dojo.   A breath of air warned him.  He ducked backwards, then threw himself into a forward roll as a blade slashed through the air at the height of his neck.

            Scrambling to his feet, Duncan raced into the dojo, through the stripes of darkness and moonlight coming through the curtainless windows.  He snatched at the lowest of the katanas in the display on the wall and turned to face his attacker.

            Icy pale eyes burned in a dark ski mask.  A wide-shouldered figure dressed in black lunged at Duncan.  Moving on the balls of his feet, wearing soft-soled boots, the man was a literal shadow as he attacked.  Duncan threw off the effects of his wine and headache and long day, and let his own blade become part of his arm.

            The intruder's sword moved quickly, a silver blur in the shadows and the red glare of the emergency exit sign.  Duncan could barely see enough to block and feint, let alone discern the style of blade.

            Six times their blades met and clashed, throwing sparks through the darkness. The other Immortal bared his teeth in a silent snarl and threw himself at Duncan, turning at the last moment for a blow more appropriate for football.  Duncan sidestepped and brought his elbow down into his opponent's face.

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