The lacerated crimson sunk back to Geoffrey, and he recoiled away from Hector. The shadow retained its grip on Ms. Trent, however, pulling her closer to his body. He started laughing as he looked at Hector. “Well done! But now I have to kill your teacher, of course.”
Ms. Trent let out a muffled scream as the red tightened around her. And then the metal coat was there for her as well. Unlike Hector’s, the spikes around Ms. Trent could not tear the shadow. Instead, they merely pushed it out, like taffy stretched across a bed of needles.
Geoffrey’s brow lowered. “Now that is just unfair.”
Hector had to annihilate his own coating in order to move again, but he kept iron around his chest, shins, and forearms. He put a gloved fist out to his side, and it shook as he concentrated on what he wanted. Around the fist grew fresh metal, but it did not stop with mere coating. It extended out, half a meter, until it reached a sharpened tip, and suddenly, instead of a right hand, he had a thick blade--a full sword with crude, jagged edges. It was heavy, weighing his arm down at first, but adrenaline helped him lift it.
He ran forward, sword held wide, and met the next wave of red with a spiked shield. He tore a path toward Geoffrey, who backed away; and instead of pursuing, Hector diverted toward Ms. Trent and slashed clean through the shadow. Her spiked cage clattered heavily to the floor as the shade retreated to Geoffrey. He freed the teacher from her metal bindings. She rolled over on the floor, gasping for breath.
“Aha, wow! How scary!” And a brief silence fell as the sound of nearby sirens filled the room. Geoffrey’s grin only broadened. “I think we need some more playmates.” He fled into the hallway with Jenny.
Hector freed Sheryl, told her to barricade the door, and then gave chase.
A dark serial novel. Set in a modern fantasy world called Eleg. Mature language. Updates every night at midnight PST by ~400 words.