Leda’s Log. A behind-the-scenes, slice-of-life look into the Legion of Angels, hosted by Leda Pandora, the Angel of Chaos.

Warning: may include abnormally-large cats and adorable baby angels.

Cornered, threatened, left without magic or allies, Leda has to go back to basics. And for Leda, you know that means some creative dirty fighting.

Leda’s Log

Part 12: Dirty Fighting

Once again, I was that weak human I used to be—in everything but my memories. Those memories smashed together inside my frail body, like popcorn popping inside a delicate paper bag, threatening to burst out.

But it didn’t matter what I remembered. It didn’t matter who I’d been. This was who I was now: fragile and feeble, but not helpless.

I’d never been helpless.

“I lost eighteen months of my life because of you, bitch,” Masher snarled, his grip tightening on my throat.

“Not because…of me,” I choked out. “You assaulted someone…learn from your mistake…or you’ll lose…another eighteen months.”

“I’m not going back to that jail. Never,” he growled. “Don’t worry, sunshine.” His hard, scarred lips cut into a smile, like a dagger thrusting up into a victim’s chest. “No one will ever know I was the one who killed you.” He gave me a conspiring wink. “They’ll never even find your body.”

He was even crazier than I remembered.

“Admit it,” Masher said, his eyes lit up with a fiery, manic glee. “I won.”

He certainly won in the psycho category.

“Say it.” He pulled my head off the garbage dumpster lid, then smacked it back down again.

Ouch. Black splotches stained my vision, swirling and burning.

“I want to hear you say I won.” He licked his lips. “I want to hear you beg for mercy.”

“Can’t…” I clawed at his hands, trying to pry them off my throat. “…speak.”

“Oh, right,” Masher said with a stupid chuckle. His grip loosened. “Go ahead then, pumpkin. Tell me what I want to hear.”

I opened my mouth. A scratchy croak came out.

“I must have damaged your windpipe,” he laughed. “Oops.”

A strange, persistent ringing hummed in my ears.

“Say it, nice and quiet.” Masher leaned in closer to hear me better. “Now beg.”

I blinked.

He leaned in even closer. I watched him. My eyes could barely focus right now, so I kind of had to wing it as best I could. I waited until his ear was nearly pressed to my mouth…

Then I screamed as loudly as I could.

Masher stumbled back, disoriented, clutching his head with both hands. I sat up slowly, carefully, and slid off the garbage dumpster. I got a sudden, brutal blood-rush to the head as soon as my feet touched down. It was like the whole world had tipped over. I blinked a few times, but it only sort of helped. I still felt like I was caught in a whirlpool that just wouldn’t stop spinning.

Masher was already righting himself. He glared at me. “You crazy b—”

I thrust out my hand, poking him hard in the eye.

He hunched forward, roaring in pain. While he was blindly fumbling around, I pounded him hard on the sides of his head with the heels of my hands. He dropped to the ground, unconscious.

“Nice going, genius.” I stared down at his limp body. “You obviously didn’t learn anything from your incarceration.” I massaged my sore throat with my hand. “All you did was level up from assault to attempted murder.”

My head still swimming in dizziness, I staggered away from him. Masher, insane as he was, was only a mildly inconvenient symptom of a much larger problem. I had to figure out what was going on. What had happened to me. How I’d gotten here. And how to get back home.

But first of all, I needed to find Nero. The whole world had gone totally sideways, and I had to know that he was ok.

To be continued…

Cats can fight dirty too. He often bites his sister’s back leg when play-fighting.

Where do you think Nero is? How will Leda find him? What other foes and challenges stand in Leda’s way? The story continues in the next entry of Leda’s Log, coming next week!