Avatara

In my advert on the big screen, I lied. There was no cash prize. The money was only an incentive to get people to try Avatara and join the fight.

"Let's get him," one of them said. The man with the club swung at Knightmare-Grimm and missed but hundreds more were coming. In all shapes and sizes. I could see some motionless bodies lying on the street and pavement from those who'd made the conversion. I had not thought about their bodies being on the side of the road. Of course they were not dead but their spirits were in avatara form.

Knightmare-Grimm dodged the club swung at his face but got hit by the native american lookalike and the lion man. He was swarmed by others more and a sumo wrestler avatara wrapped his arms around his legs and a snake-like avatara itself wrapped around his body.

"Aargh what's this! Grace come here…," screamed Knightmare-Grimm.

I did not hesitate and took my chance to leave. I flew over the crowd and escaped to try and find Walker. The police officers were helpless and did not know what to do with all the avatara flying and running around them. I noticed some police bodies on the ground and realised some of them had turned into avatara as well. I tried not to draw attention to myself hoping that none of them would be interested in me. But they were all preoccupied. Many were drawn towards Grimm and others were playing amongst themselves or just flying for fun. Unfortunately, others panicked, after realising they'd left their real bodies. One man cried while trying to drag his body to place it against a wall. It made me nervous. Had I made a big mistake by releasing Avatara to the general public like this!?

"Grace."

I heard Walker through the melee. He stood up at ground level but from the way he clutched his right shoulder, still feeling the effects of his battle with Knightmare-Grimm.

"Are you okay Walker?" I said.

"Yeah thanks," said Walker. "But what have you done?! You've opened Pandora's box!!"

"It's called a distraction!" I said emphatically, to drown the feelings of guilt already developing. "Look, I've got an idea! Where's your body right now?"

"At home. Why?" said Walker.

"Let's meet there. I know how to stop that monster and make all these avatara disappear right now."

***

Walker lived in a huge new apartment block. 32 West View Apartments in the Canary Wharf area of London was a futuristic styled building, with a sleek design upwards that rose to a point at the top, very much like The Shard building near London Bridge. However, somehow it looked like it belonged more to midtown, Manhattan New York than London.

With two heavy, customised doors, made of stainless steel with a satin finish, Grace was surprised that she did not have to punch a code to enter the building but she was met in the large lobby by the concierge. A typical man in a navy suit and tie, of about five feet ten inches in height with carefully combed hair and a side parting greeted her.

"Good afternoon," he said.

"Hi," said Grace.

"Who are you here to see?"

It was at that point she realised that she did not know Walker's real name. She blushed for a moment and felt beads of sweat on her forehead. Walker had not told her. He had only given the number of his apartment. Grace did not want to embarrass herself by getting his name wrong and having to walk out of the building in shame. It would be a long walk to the stainless doors at the front.

"I'm here to see Walker at number 128."

The man checked the screen of his computer. "Hmm ok." His eyes moved from the screen back to Grace with furrowed brows above them.

"What is your name?" he continued.

Grace hesitated.

"Skyclad," Grace said.

"Thank you." Now, the concierge also looked like he blushed. "Yes, Tom Walker at number 128."

Now she was embarrassed, she thought the concierge must think something is weird or that she is a call girl, going to see one of her clients under a fake name. There's no way he would come to any other conclusion. Grace also realised that wearing a crop top and yoga pants did not make her seem any less s.e.x.u.a.lised. But she tried to defuse the tension by adding some clarification. "I'm his yoga instructor by the way."

"Very good," said the concierge in a brisk tone as he walked out from behind his desk. Now he could not look at Grace in the eye it seemed.

"The lifts are over here," he said. He walked exactly to where the lifts were on the left. "You will need to go to the eighth floor, then when you come out turn left and walk to the end of the corridor."

"Thank you," said Grace.

"Thank you madam," said the concierge, who looked at Grace for a split second and then looked at the floor as he walked away.

Grace criticised herself for how she handled the interaction. "Yoga instructor." That hardly made it less suspect. If she ever came here again, the concierge would judge her immediately. At least that was her thinking. But her thoughts in the lift quickly shifted to Walker's name. Tom Walker? Was that his real name? In the buildup to the first meeting, she, Knightmare and Walker, had agreed to using aliases, to protect themselves as they could not trust each other. She entered the lift on her own. Why did he use his real name? She thought. Why?