Single post in The Little One -- [COMPLETED]

One of the squad car drivers ran straight for him, his right hand already tense on his holster. When his mouth opened, an explosion rocked the entire street. The girl squealed and tightened her arms around the young man's neck. Cowering at first, the officer soon reached for him and the child, shouting, “Move! Move!” Useless command though. The young man's stride barely slowed the entire way. If anything, the explosion kicked his pace up a notch. The officer hustled them toward the paramedics while subsequent thunderclaps boomed behind them. The ground still trembled, but at least the girl was relatively safer now. He tried telling her that while carrying her to the male-female pair opening the rear doors of the ambulance. “She got knocked down back there!” he told the medics. “I don’t know if she’s hurt!” “We’ll take it from here,” the woman said. He tried handing the girl over, but she held on with a vice grip. “You’re safe now,” he reassured in the calmest voice his labored breathing could manage. “They’ll help you get back to your parents.” Though still crying, the girl lessened her grip enough for him to wiggle free. It was the first time he managed to get a clear look at her. Despite the tears, a cute, round and wet face stared back at him. Hope filled the sea green eyes locked on him from behind red, messy strands that had been pulled into ponytails on either side of her head. Wrinkles filled her yellow flower-patterned dress, and when she pushed back the hair from her eyes, he noticed a bracelet made of red and gold yarn around her small wrist. Tears still rolled down her cheeks while the medics checked for abrasions or worse. What unnerved him, however, was the girl’s steely gaze. No… It was deeper than that. Something about her eyes stirred a familiar sensation deep within him, even more so than the logo on the truck. Thunder crashed. Loud as it was, it came from above this time. It distracted him for a moment, just long enough to break eye contact. His gaze happened on the sword first. The thing was still gripped tightly in his right hand, its blade streaming rainwater to the ground from its tip. He wondered exactly what happened back there with the thunderous light show and seeming lag of time. Events like these had to be difficult for anyone to forget, even an amnesiac. Absolutely nothing about this city—this world—rang a clear bell, and it was beginning to frustrate him even more. But what now? He didn’t have a clue where to turn. The sword shook. The male medic noticed before the young man could turn away. He tried loosening his fingers from the hilt, but they remained tightly curled. “C’mon,” he muttered, gripping his wrist and shaking it fiercely. “What the--?” “Sir?” the lady medic started. “I can’t open my hand,” he blurted out while noticing the growing intensity of the shaking. The little girl hopped down from the ambulance and grabbed his free hand, tugging as hard as her small fingers could manage. Not wanting her to get pulled into any more weirdness, he tried breaking away from her. Strangely, his hand wouldn’t swat her fingers away like he wanted, allowing her to fight for another chance to grab hold. The more the sword shook, the more he felt himself losing control of his body. Suddenly, his feet edged away from them. More frightening, they shuffled back in the direction of the explosions.