Single post in The Little One -- [COMPLETED]

He blinked. A car appeared—“reappeared” would be a more fitting word. Yet, the rest of the world remained black. That was probably a good thing considering the car was upside-down and hovering several feet above the child. “Move!” he shouted for all the good it did. He couldn’t even hear his own voice. Even worse, he couldn’t move a muscle below his neck. “I swear, I’ll save you! I SWEAR!” A fifth beep resonated. The audial world returned. The throbbing between his ears quickly degraded. The black in his vision gave way to the visible world, returning gradually every few seconds. He could see each individual raindrop creeping toward the ground by the millimeter. He could hear the muffled boom of a spark as it began its initial stage of eruption. But more importantly, he could move again. Pushing through the pain and confusion, he scrambled to his feet and ran for the child. The world steadily grew clearer. The drops accelerated toward the ground. The only thing that mattered was the next few steps. Nothing was more important. He knew that while watching the floating car edge closer to the child. Without thinking, he lunged forward while drawing the sword from its sheath. Shouting, he swung the slightly curved blade upward with all the force he could muster in the moment the rain resumed beating down on him. Among the continuous crashes of thunder, a light metallic shing cut through the air for barely an instant. He would have missed it himself if it wasn’t for the weird sensation the nest few moments brought. Even though the world was clear again and ran at its regular speed, his eyes registered every detail as if things were still in slow-motion. He’d just managed to bring the sword up in the time for the tip of its blade to scrape across the roof of the vehicle. But the metallic sound had been more than just the sword against metal. During his swing, the space around the blade became distorted, causing a swift ripple effect along the path the blade traveled. As the car collided with the blade and the distortion, it was essentially ripped apart as if a much bigger and stronger weapon cleaved it in two. Half spiraled off to his left and crashed into a furniture store, collapsing the entire front wall under its weight. The other half barely missed the child as it tumbled past and wedged itself in the alley between the store and a warehouse. As soon as he realized the immediate threat had passed, he turned around and scooped up the bawling child, grunting under the extra pain it inflicted on his shoulder. He still had to get her away from the chaotic conflict that showed no signs of letting up. Through her wails, she latched onto his neck as soon as he lifted her up. Practically shouldering her felt odd since he held the sword in hand. He was several yards up the sidewalk before realizing he’d abandoned the sheath. Other than wondering what made the weapon decide to unlock at that particular moment, he began to worry about his growing—and unintentional—attachment to the thing. Wouldn’t a normal person drop both sheath and sword to rescue the child? Blaring sirens from squad cars and emergency vehicles filled the air as they jammed the intersection ahead. It was as close to the action any of them could get on wheels with all the abandoned vehicles cluttering a stretch of the road. When officers clambered out of their cars, a sense of unease washed over him. A guy carrying both a crying child and sharp weapon with all the commotion behind him would surely raise more than a few questions.