I slammed into it like a refrigerator, sending both of us sprawling into a heap. The minute I got my bearings, I was up on my knees, straddling it, my hand around its thin black throat. It made a shrieking noise and raked at me with its claws, but their taloned ends snapped and shattered when they connected with my flesh.
“You little shit,” I hissed through my teeth. “You thought you could get away with all this, didn’t you? You thought you didn’t need me?”
My other hand clenched into a fist and smashed into the thing’s twisted face. The blow sank into its countenance, like the monster was made out of pudding.
“Well, it ain’t gonna happen, and y’know why?”
The thing made a sound, like a rabbit that’s been hit by a car, and writhed beneath my fist.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
This was my fist. My skin, my bone, my sweat. This was
my
victory and also
my
fault.
“BECAUSE,” I said, leaning in and hissing right in its fucking face, “I’M
BLACKLIGHT,
YOU HIGHFALUTIN SON OF A BITCH, AND YOU’LL DO WELL TO FUCKING REMEMBER IT!”
My hand came out of its head with a horrible little plop. I shook the grass and dirt off my shirt, and got to my feet. When I was finally a little less unkempt, I looked down at the beast at my feet, inching away like a wounded animal, claws shielding its eyes.
“C’mon,” I said, hiking my thumb back toward the city, “let’s go back.”
The thing lowered its claws a little bit and blinked at me in puzzlement.
“Are you coming with me or not?”
It tilted its head.
“Well, I’m going,” I said. “Come if you like.”
I turned back to the skyline and began to trot slowly over the grass, basking in the sunlight and the smells of the park, the burning heat of the light off the city’s million windows. After a moment or two, I heard it get up and begin to follow me a few paces behind, just a little scared of what it might have created.