Word of the Day: Enmity


Enmity (n.)- a feeling or condition of hostility; hatred; animosity

The hate in Lindsey’s eyes corrugated my eyebrows so hard that it felt as if the muscles may have been a sheet of concrete. The enmity between us has been building for sometime now and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t ready to extinguish it. She looks super hard at me. As if she is ready to use her power again. The way I see it, she is just another stupid, blonde bitch in my way. I tried loving her. She didn’t like that. She didn’t like me showing up at her car wash to tell her there are better things in life than washing cars in plunging, neckline shirts with no bra and flirting with no life guys for a living. Looking at her now I can tell there are devilish thoughts going on in that head of hers. Those green eyes hits like no other and before I know it she lunges at me at sonic speed.

I see her leading with her right. Predictable. I shift to shadow form in the nick of time. As Lindsey goes through, her presence causes my shadow to follow her because of the speed she is traveling. I use the momentum to gain an advantage behind her and materialize back with her in a chokehold.

“Get the fuck off of me,” Lindsey says.

“Better not do that shit again. You hear me?!” I holler in her ear. I can practically feel the enmity coursing in her body, vibrating against me, making me want to do nothing more than to break her fucking neck. Next thing I know she is driving her elbow into my stomach. I hunch over and she escapes my grip.

Now I’m angry. I want her dead.

“Learned that working at the your lame ass nightclub,” Lindsey says. I look up the L.A. street and notice there is a crowd of people gathering to watch us.

“We are supposed to be keeping our powers a secret,” I say.

“Fuck that,” Lindsey says. I startle. “I’m so tired of you thinking you’re the only one in the world for me. You’re obsessed with me.”

I flush.

There is some truth behind what she says. Sharing her is never on my to-do-list. And I find it leads to fights like these. However, this time is different. This time, her eyes are ready to kill.

“I’m not obsessed,” I say. “I…”

“I don’t care anymore,” Lindsey explodes. “I’m gonna kill you.” She lunges at me again. This time, I waste no time. I manifest a wakizashi using the shadows. When Lindsey tries to punch me, I dodge the blow and make a horizontal slash across her abdomen as she hurtles by with her super speed. I feel the steel cut easy. I look back and Lindsey is already on her knees with her hands over her lethal wound. She collapses the rest of the way to the ground and breathes her last breath.

“Rest in peace,” I say. A tear falls down my cheek. I look at the crowd that formed around us. They are staring in horror. I must go before someone attempts something heroic.

So without another word, I just walk away.




Word of the Day: Sedulous


Sedulous (adj.)- (of a person or action) showing dedication or diligence


She lets out a grunt and delivers another jab to the punching bag. Better.

“Care to stop hiding behind that thing and spar with me like a man?” she says with sedulous eyes, her chin still tucked beneath her gloves the way I showed her.

“Only if you promise to start hitting like one,” I say. Another punch. Harder too. I must admit Jessica had me fooled when we met at Starbucks. The way she smiled as she ordered her coffee and the frivolity behind her words as she bantered with the barista. It was enough to save my world the time to know not every beautiful woman hated what the world had become. But now, watching her from behind this punching bag after asking her out on a date, one could only wonder how could I have been so oblivious as to think this woman was in anyway vulnerable to the universe around her. She is a fucking animal.

“Just because you showed me how to protect my button doesn’t mean I can’t push yours. Did you think me to be a helpless girl? A damsel in distress?” I scoff. Yeah.

“Of all things, a damsel in distress was the last thing I thought of.” A white lie. “As for thinking you of being incapable of taking care for yourself, don’t be so naive. Everybody, even me, knows the best thing for a woman to love is her own heart. However, I’m surprised to find you aren’t afraid to get your hands dirty. These aren’t amateur punches you’re throwing. Care to come clean?” She scoffs this time.

“Everybody doesn’t know that,” she says. She punches the bag once more and puts her hands down. “I know who you are. You aren’t fooling me. Did you really think you could get away with taking advantage of women with your slick words and pretty face? I’ve come here to fight, not flirt. Put on some gloves pretty boy.”

My brows arch. Her words do more damage than her punches could ever do. Usually, I take great pride in choosing my victims, but I’ve read this one all wrong. Yet, she has piqued my competitive nature in such a way that I would feel foolish to skip over her challenge. If all of my world is what she wants, that’s exactly what she is going to get.

I walk from behind the punching bag over to the shelf where the gloves are.

When she suggested we go to the boxing gym for our first date, I just thought we were going to hit on each other playfully, figuring she wanted to learn how to protect herself. But now I see this was all a charade. She isn’t vulnerable. She isn’t weak. And now, she really wants a piece of me.

So be it.

If she really knows who I am, then she knows I’m a fighter at heart. She knows I’m not going to go easy on her. I have a reputation to uphold.

The gloves are firmly on my hands as we make our way to the ring.

I hope she is ready.