| [Jun. 3rd, 2009|06:40 pm] |
The pain was less horrifying than the way the thick arrow shaft stuck out from Ginta's left thigh at a sixty-degree angle. It hurt, but not in any meaningful way at first. Like many wounds sustained in battle, the severity was obscured by adrenaline and shock--until he tried to slide into another narrow and defensible space. The protruding arrow caught on the edge of the passageway he was trying to get into, and tore a savage rent through stoutly resisting muscle. The wooden shaft bent and splintered, but didn't break. The noise it ripped from Ginta's throat was almost inhuman.
There were shouts and the clatter of feet on echoing steel walkways. The turning machines ground to a halt as someone threw an emergency switch. Protesting metal screeched and popped, and a cloud of acrid powder rose from one of the mixer's maws.
Ninja were already swarming down into the concrete-edged pit holding the machines. Holding Ginta.
He didn't dare risk a ninjutsu, but genjutsu... His hands flashed through seals: horse, rabbit, snake, bird... twenty-eight separate seals, and suddenly the room was plunged into dim emergency lighting. Klaxons sounded. "Evacuate! Evacuate! Fire!" And no-one but Ginta could move. Thick syrup enveloped the limbs of the ninja and workers, trapping them in a pantomime of slow motion.
Ginta grabbed a metal bar and swung himself up into the loading arm of the mixer. Two ninja followed. Two! Two had already dispelled his illusion and freed themselves. One lunged towards Ginta, who dove for his legs and managed to shove him backwards off the narrow bar. He plummeted into the seething chemical brew with an agonizing scream. As he fell, he grabbed for Ginta's leg with a clawed hand, raking long furrows down to bone. |
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