Inside of the library bathroom, Aubrey grabbed the trashcan and launched it across the room at the hooded figure. It soared through the air, smashing into the urban legend, as Aubrey kicked off the ground, stabbing directly into the figure's heart.
The force of his propulsion slammed the monster into the wall, the scissors pushing in deeper. Aubrey let go, grabbing the figure by the waist and lifting it off the ground, immediately slamming it down.
He would not wait.
His foot wound back and he unleashed a soccer kick to the skull, sending it sliding down the bathroom.
Aubrey was not a fighter. He had no martial arts experience in the slightest, not even one class. Yet, even he, as a human being, understood the importance of grappling.
In a certain sense, even if it's a stretch, isn't grappling the way a serial killer should fight in terms of unarmed combat? After all, unlike striking, where the goal is to debilitate or harm with punches, kicks, elbows and knees, grappling is all about putting the other person in a disadvantageous state.
If they can escape an armbar, it's not a good armbar. If they can escape a rear naked choke, you're doing it wrong.
Grappling, in its essence, was all about having as much advantage as possible in order to mangle or strangle your opponent.
Regardless, Aubrey rushed across the bathroom, raising his foot and stomping with all his weight on the killer, digging his heel into the back of their neck.
The monster, in spite of their damage, sprung up and wrapped their arms around Aubrey's waist. In a flash, he was lifted up and slammed down, his back smashing into the tiled floor.
"URGH, fu—ghk!"
The monster took out a knife, embedding it into Aubrey's stomach. It was ripped from him, and Aubrey kicked upwards, knocking the monster back before getting to his feet and creating distance, ending up near the mirrors.
He looked at his outfit of a white t-shirt, seeing no blood from his wound.
Right. Is that one of this thing's abilities then?
In order to create as little evidence as possible, one of this monster's abilities was to completely hide blood loss. In its victims, this took the form of stab wounds which would not bleed on the outside, yet still be lethal.
And as Aubrey looked at the still-standing monster before him, he clicked his tongue.
Then I'm assuming it can use the ability to make it impossible to die of blood loss. I hit it in the heart, and since the heart pumps blood, I'm assuming death via heart-puncture is the result of both immediate blood loss and disruption of blood across the body.
Because the monster was still fighting, it likely completely removed the first option as a viable method of killing it.
But as long as I can crush this thing's skull or rip it apart, it doesn't exactly matter, now does it?
Resummoning the Slit-Mouth-Scissors, Aubrey stared dead-pan at the monster before him.
He's not moving. Is he sizing me up? Or waiting for an opportunity to strike?
"Y'know, if you don't do anything, someone will walk in. And guess what? You'll be caught."
This man—thing—monster, whatever it is, likely has an extreme distaste towards being caught. Can't say I'm any different though. But if it means getting to live another day, then I'm fine with appearing a bit bloodied up in a bathroom.
"..."
The monster ran towards Aubrey, knife in hand, swinging wildly. Aubrey tried to move around, but due to having no experience in martial arts, had bad footwork. He was eventually pushed against the wall, unable to counter due to an endless series of slashes and stabs.
Backed against the wall, Aubrey experienced the absolute trouble of dealing with an opponent with a knife whilst pretty much unarmed. After all, unless one had an unnaturally large reach, or a longer weapon like a spear or even a gun, all it really took was them running at you and slashing wildly.
It was unpredictable, uncontrollable, and even if you manage to land a hit that will incapacitate them, assuming one's unarmed then that likely means your arm got slashed with the knife. A price well worth paying if it means surviving, but ultimately still with a cost.
He had been unable to counter, and as such—
"Hk."
Shit.
Going into his shell, blocking with his arms, Aubrey was decorated with lashes and bloody wounds. After just a few seconds of taking the blows, he put his right foot on the wall and covered up his head, pushing off and shoulder-checking the legend, sending it falling back to the ground.
Aubrey mounted the urban legend, one hand wrapped around its throat and pinning it to the ground as he lifted the scissors up into a reverse grip.
The throat would be a sensible target. The chest would be a sensible target.
And yet, he opted to stab the figure in the face.
"Let's peel off that hood of yours!"
A twisted grin curved across his cheeks, Aubrey repeatedly jammed the knife into the creature's facial features. Blood from inside the wounds ended up on the blade, as he licked it and obtained the Trait of this monster.
He ripped the hoodie off, revealing a blacked-out face obscured in darkness. It was entirely featureless, with no nose, lips, eyes or ears. Yet, regardless, Aubrey continued to plunge the blades into that figure, pulling it out and taking bite after bite from it.
The urban legend eventually grabbed Aubrey by his hair, pulling his head down and kicking him off, crawling backwards. Aubrey quickly grabbed the sleeves of the figure's pants, bunching the clothes in his grip.
With explosive effort, Aubrey violently heaved the legend back into the fight.
He would not let it escape.
Aubrey stabbed into its legs, breaking apart the shins and eventually going for one final impalement through the leg. Twisting the scissors, attempting to open them with both hands, Aubrey earnestly tried to completely dismember the monster.
Yet, it continued kicking up at him, jamming its heel into his nose repeatedly. The first few kicks meant nothing to Aubrey. The fourth broke his nose, leaking his blood onto the ground and causing his eyes to water. The fifth sent his head flying back into the door of a stall, as Aubrey collapsed to the ground.
"Kgh, hah."
Aubrey laughed once, as the all-black monster crawled backwards, slowly getting to its feet with great difficulty; its right leg was nearly removed entirely, forcing it to hobble.
Aubrey used the stall to stabilize himself, climbing to his feet as he kept snickering as if something was absolutely hilarious, panting and breathing heavily.
"I… hah, haha, I'm gonna win~!"
After all, Aubrey was healed of his wounds. The hooded figure was not.
Aubrey was not the kind of person who enjoyed fights. Far from it, as he himself said, he hated fighting. But even he couldn't help but smile, as he sensed victory was on the arrival.
Each fight had been with his life on the line; overcoming meant surviving. And as long as he survived, he was happy.
Aubrey's dark hair covering his eyes, all that was visible was his thin smile and his jaw.
"How marvelous…! Me and my friend both get wonderful victories tonight! He gets a girlfriend, and I get a new Monster Trait! I love, lovelovelove getting new Traits!
A mixture of endorphins and adrenaline making him incredibly joyful, Aubrey proclaimed his victory. Momentarily forgetting his newly adopted way of combat, Aubrey rushed in with the scissors as though he were an animal.
He was stabbed in the chest with a knife, yet he pushed through, sinking his teeth into the monster's neck and shanking it in the guts repeatedly. He pressed it against the wall, grunting loudly through his clenched teeth as he eviscerated the monster's insides.
He chewed and swallowed the flesh, grabbing the monster's wrist and forcing the knife from his chest. Aubrey stuck the scissors into the heart once more, grabbing the waist and lifting it into the air, slamming it down onto the tiled floor with a great thud.
Covered in blood, the amped up Black Wraith raised its boot, stomping repeatedly on its victim's spinal cord.
It was runner's high. When undergoing sustained, moderate-to-intense exercise, endorphins can help boost pain threshold, improve mood and elicit a feeling of euphoria. Aubrey, who after receiving several slashes in a situation where he earnestly fought without despair, had undergone such a wonderful experience, feeling extremely blissful.
Far from his usual self, Aubrey felt incredibly powerful. He was strong. Not just strong, but strong-er. He was stronger than even this monster. He could completely crush it beneath his feet, and he would not release it.
He once more got on top, resting his hips on the monster's stomach as he raised the bloody blade into the air.
"Kghhh, hahaha… oh. Ohh!"
His voice high-pitched and squealy, Aubrey drove the knife into the chest. Blood did not spray onto his hands. The effect of violence had been mostly muted, with no pronounced signs of damage.
As Aubrey looked into that utterly blank face, he still received the impression of fear. Perhaps he was just seeing things, but he really, truly did feel as though he was having a profound impression of fear upon the monster.
"...Are you… afraid of me?" Aubrey whispered, his voice laced with raspy superiority.
The knife was torn from the chest, as Aubrey screamed and continued his visceral assault, now an artist of brutality.
Ten, twenty, thirty, fifty, one-hundred—he did not know how many times he stabbed. Time was irrelevant, the individual wounds and count of attacks was all so irrelevant.
To Aubrey, all that mattered was the process. Not the number. Only the sensations he felt in his wrist and palm, that tingling from gripping the knife so tight; the sensation of his nails bending slightly as his fingers laced around the throat, pinning it down so there would be no exit; the grinding of his teeth with each grunt spat out from the skewering of flesh.
Lost in his thoughts, Aubrey felt such security.
I am absolutely going to kill you.
It was undoubtable, certain, and inevitable. Aubrey, no matter what, was going to kil—
"...Aubrey?"
A voice as sweet as a bell rang through the bathroom. Aubrey turned around, instinctively recognizing that the sound of the door's opening was likely obscured by his vicious attack.
Yet, Aubrey also instinctively understood that this situation was one which was overwhelmingly bad.
Covered in blood, his body resting on top of another as he repeatedly plunged a knife into a soon-to-be corpse.
Truly,
—This is really bad.