Dust
Spotty’s Perspective
Spotty turned her back to Angelus, her movements deliberately casual, as if she were completely unbothered by the vampire’s presence. She let her crystalline blue eyes scan the room as she reached for the pencil on his desk, her fingers curling around it without a sound. Let’s see if the big bad vampire takes the bait, she thought, a smirk tugging at her lips.
"Okay, tough guy," she said over her shoulder, her tone dripping with playful arrogance. "Touch me. I’m not even looking at you, and a fighter as good as you should be able to land at least one hit on me in such a situation."
She felt Ila chuckling behind her and knew her red-haired companion had already guessed what she was planning. Let’s see if he can resist proving me right.
Ila’s Perspective
Ila leaned casually against the wall, her amber eyes sparkling with amusement. Oh, this is going to be good. She watched Spotty’s hand subtly snatch the pencil, a tiny, almost imperceptible movement that betrayed her intent to anyone sharp enough to notice.
"She’s baiting him," Ila thought, struggling to stifle her laughter. "And he’s going to fall for it. He always does."
Her gaze shifted to Angelus, whose entire body had gone rigid with tension. She could practically see the storm of rage and pride swirling in his eyes, his need to prove himself overwhelming any shred of caution he might have had.
"You’re so predictable," she muttered softly, shaking her head.
Angelus’ Perspective
Angelus froze at Spotty’s taunting words, his fists clenching tightly at his sides. How dare she? He could feel his pride twisting into anger, every fiber of his being demanding that he prove her wrong.
"You think I’m slow? Weak?" he growled under his breath, his body tensing as he prepared to strike. I’ll show you. I’ll wipe that smug grin off your face.
He moved in a blur of speed, his vampire strength propelling him toward her back with all the force he could muster. His fist was aimed directly at her spine, a strike meant to incapacitate.
But he missed.
Before he could even register what had happened, he felt a sharp pain in his chest—a wooden pencil piercing his heart. His eyes widened in shock as his strength began to fade, his body crumbling from the inside out.
No. This isn’t possible. I’m... Angelus...
Marcus Hamilton’s Perspective
Hamilton’s jaw tightened as he watched the scene unfold, his sharp eyes catching the subtle shift in Spotty’s stance, the way her fingers closed around the pencil. He knew what was coming, but he also knew there was nothing he could do to stop it.
"Angelus, you fool," he thought, his frustration mounting. "You let her bait you, and now you’re going to pay the price."
As Angelus lunged, Hamilton barely flinched. The vampire’s predictable attack ended as he knew it would—with Spotty’s casual, almost dismissive counterstrike. The sight of the wooden pencil piercing Angelus’ chest was almost anticlimactic.
"Well, that’s one way to handle him," Hamilton muttered under his breath, his tone heavy with exasperation.
The Exchange
Spotty turned, finally facing Angelus as his body began to dissolve into dust. Her crystalline gaze was calm, almost detached, as she studied his crumbling form. "You couldn’t resist, could you?" she said softly, almost as if addressing a petulant child.
Angelus’ eyes burned with fury, his voice a guttural growl as he forced out his final words. "You think you’re better than me..."
Spotty smirked, tilting her head slightly. "No, Angelus. I know I am."
With that, he was gone, reduced to a pile of ash on the floor.
Aftermath
Ila burst into laughter, the sound ringing through the room like a bell. "Most powerful, bravest, craziest—and I have to say, smartest and most beautiful," she teased, her amber eyes gleaming with admiration. "You really can’t help yourself, can you?"
Spotty shrugged, brushing some ash off her sleeve. "He attacked first. I’m just efficient," she replied, her smirk unrepentant.
Hamilton let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he muttered, "This day just keeps getting better and better."
Spotty turned her attention to him, her crystalline gaze sharp. "Now, Marcus," she said with a playful edge, "shall we continue our conversation? Or do you have any other predictable lackeys I should deal with first?"
Hamilton said nothing, his mind racing as he tried to calculate his next move. I can’t underestimate her. Not again.