The cloud jumped from walls to floor to ceiling, slamming at Ikram faster than he could dodge them. It slammed to Ikram's chest, sending the young man flying across the room and crashing into the concrete wall.
Red warm blood spat on the floor. Ikram got back to his feet, his heart burned with anger. He called whatever strength he has and rushed at the black cloud, only to have it slammed against his back and sends him sprawling to the floor. Metal pots and candle sticks clattered as Ikram slammed through them. Ikram pushed himself back up and noticed a small pot filled with white dusts. Knowing he would not be able to beat the cloud, whatever it was, he grabbed the pot, pulled out some of the white dusts inside it and threw it towards the cloud.
The cloud dodged the attack and slammed at Ikram's chest again. Harder this time.
The attack sends Ikram flying through the window and out into the open sky. Gritting his teeth, Ikram let loose the last of his strength and creates a golden strand of thin line that latched to the wall of the apartment. His shoulder felt like it was seared with fire when the line tugged at him, breaking his fall, just before he hits his bike. Ikram released the energy and watched it disappeared into thin air. He glanced at the window where he had fallen from and saw the smoke stood there, with bright red eyes, looking at him, unmoved. He clenched his teeth and made for his bike. This one was clearly not his fight, he thought. But at least he managed to grab the pot he held in his hand. HIs bike roared to life and soon, it left the vicinity of the apartment.
Ikram stopped underneath a bridge and sat on the grass across where a group of bikers stood talking to each other. He groaned and clenched his chest. He could still feel the aching the cloud had left him. That was not a normal shadow, he thought. Once he had most of his energy back, he went back to his bike and heads to the one person who could help him. His teacher.