Straining to hear anything from his vantage point proved difficult because of all of the commotion filtering in from outside. There were footsteps clomping up and down the hallways overhead and the steady, howling wail of police cars outside the perimeter of the school cast the entire area in a skin-prickling unease. And here he was, hunched down at the top of the stairs like a burglar, waiting for any sign that these schoolkids were exactly who he believed them to be. If they were anything else, he'd have no choice but to strike them down—monsters hardly deserved to breathe the same air as humans did. He had seen enough of those black things to know that they could take other forms.
Or else, make you believe that you were seeing something or someone familiar. How could you fight something that wore different faces? Things that could cast shadows across the world you believed was real, only to drop you into darkness. He stifled his shaking hands, gripping his wrist briefly before leaning forward.
So intent on the kids below that he hadn't realized someone had stalked behind him. Quiet as dormouse, or something equally silent. He might've been impressed if it wasn't for the fact that he couldn't afford being caught. A coolness shivered across his wrist. Slender fingers wound themselves as quick and strong as a snake—the analogy held up, because he only had time to react as soon as the person whispered in his ear, almost as if it had been the wind slipping in from the door he'd left ajar. Icarus flinched against the iron railings, eyes wild behind the mask. Who? Initially, he thought a cop might have come through, having seen him slink in while he had his back turned. But he was wrong. This was no cop. He exhaled in disbelief. Thin, feminine; female. Why couldn't he pull his arm away? He tried jerking his arm from her, but it proved ineffective. Child, she'd said. Who was she to call him a child? A teacher, maybe.
No.
“Escape?” His voice lowered to keep from being discovered by anyone else, though his eyes narrowed to slits. The remnants of fear bubbled just below the surface of his voice; a fight-or-flight response he understood well enough. It kept him alive, and supplied him with enough energy to run when he needed to. Now, it only made him feel as if he were overflowing with paranoid, unspent energy; and since he couldn't move, his options were slim.
“I'm supposed to be here.” His fingers tightened around the handle of his weapon, growing white at the knuckles. Instead of trying to pull away from her, he leaned forward until his mask was inches from her face and grinned, even though she couldn't see it, even though he found nothing amusing. “Let go, lady. I'm trying to save people here.” Muffled, and ringing with intentions, untruths. He might've been there to keep people from suffering the same fate his parents had, but he would've been lying if he denied wanting to make himself feel better.
Icarus pursed his lips when he heard footsteps drawing closer, coming from below. In vain, he pulled again. Too many people now. People or monsters, he wasn't sure. And if he wasn't sure, he wasn't safe. From what he'd seen so far—none of those dark things were around, or else, not in this direct vicinity. He figured they were holing themselves up in the classrooms, or the gymnasium; whichever space was large enough to hold the most students. He supposed he could be wrong. He'd never considered them smart, just cruel. If he was right, then two directions were available, and he had to choose one; quickly.
His thoughts whirred like a broken record, aching on one desperate sentence: let go let go let go, and he tried to clench his teeth hard enough to keep them from chattering out of his mouth. Being stuck here felt as terrible as teetering on the edge of a windowsill, because they could be watching and waiting and slavering like hounds, ready and willing to tear them apart. Couldn't she understand that? Of course not. Of course, who else could see the things he'd seen? They had their eyes closed to an entire world he wished he'd never seen. Adults, teachers, random ladies who followed him through open doorways. Unnaturally strong ladies.
He tsked and dropped his axe, arching his eyebrows, as if to say fine you win, let go. And then, he saw them. From his peripherals, slinking on the ceiling like slimy denizens of the dark. Arching and crawling until the two students fell out of sight. It was enough for him to bristle like a kicked cat and recoil towards the lady, fingers twitching. It all but consumed him, threatening to steal away the nerve he'd built up after so long. After hunting them this far, and now, they were here. Just down the stairs: beasts, quiet as the dead. His voice dropped; acidic and ripe with fear. He had no time. No time left to play around—
“Let go, or I'll kill you.”