The demon was so weakened that it took an effort to even lift the full canteen. He sat and stared into the concrete ground and rubble as though in a sort of trance. The demon was the only survivor, as well as the initiator of the disaster. He sat and remembered his father figure’s words to him, mere moments before his passing. That, along with a thousand other separate voices echoed throughout his subconscious. Even his own voice could be heard within his own mind as he stared at the ground. Each moment of listening had scorched yet another image into his mind of the things he had done and the people he had befriended or made new enemies of. The last words of the man that he had killed rang like a siren in the background of his mental tirade. It all lead to one single image in his mind. The image of a child the day it all occurred. A young soldier was holding a small boy tight as though he were his own son.
The soldier was crouched down on both knees and held the child tight from the danger around them. The demon’s face contorted to frustration and threw the now empty vessel onto the rubble. He stood and gazed around him. He saw the ashen cocoons that littered the ground; some even blanketed by the cocoons of the giants and were stacked by other remains. The demon observed the carnage that he had rained upon the unsuspecting men and women. He had already known the true extent of his own abilities for years after that day of infamy. However, he was kept at bay by his adopted father, teaching him never to fully unleash his fury and intensity. The day would come that he would take his own life for a vain cause if he had done so. He raised his hand and gazed into it like a crystal ball. He had seen only the tip of the iceberg that day, a taste of his true potential.
If he had so wished, he could have decimated an entire civilization just simply for his own pleasure. It was his father, however, that taught him never to do such things. Such things would take him off track of what was important in his life. The people he loved would leave him. Innocent people would die. The demon detested those very days. Those were the days that he tapped into that long awaited temptation. He sauntered over the corpse of the twin giants and leaned forward against it with both hands. He recounted the events where he had done the most damage. The first thought was the boy, Alex.
He tried to have him murdered in private. However, his adopted father gave his final bout of wisdom, and when the demon allowed the boy to live, he brutalized him in distraught. A single loud crash was then heard off in the distance. The sound had caught his attention and he flew up to the nearest building that was still intact. He looked out into the distance and could see not where the sound had come from, but a single rising cloud of smoke and sulfur. He reunited the top of his head with his skull cap and his mouth fell open in disbelief. He knew where the cloud had been emitted from, and the people that had been suffocating in it.
Small pops were heard from the demon’s cherished place and a single scream that had been undecipherable from his vantage. Christ no…, he thought to himself as he raised a hand and covered one of his eyes in shock. Perspiration had emitted from him, not of consequence to ability, but to grief. He knew exactly as to why what he witnessed had occurred… he left. The people he had cherished and grown up with, the woman he loved, everything he had known was being suffocated by the fumes of death. It was all because he had left them. He left to seek vengeance for his father.
He began to realize the ultimate truth could no longer be ignored. He never truly cared for them. He might as well have considering them mere peons in his life. He wanted to make certain that his goals were met, that he could live the life that authority had stolen from him. That was why he killed. He had nothing but hatred in his heart for the healthy. The soldier was right, people like him needed to be locked up and away from others. He thought nothing of his duty back home. He left for a selfish pursuit. Something then came over him; a cocktail of grief and rage had teemed within him and cleared his heart and mind. Fine, I put them through this. But this is my home. Those twinkle toes will never be welcome here.
He clenched both fists and looked away from the cloud off to his left. He stared out into the horizon. He could no longer do the same chaos that befell the single post. He flew in a cloud of flame toward the horizon to the larger cloud ascending to the grey oblivion that was the precipitating sky. The small drizzle had grown to a proper downpour. As he flew he steamed with every drop that touched down on his flame and skin.
He was a single small cloud of combustion in the grey sky advancing as though to relieve its payload of water upon his target. He flew for, what to him, felt like hours away from his home until he stopped and slammed to the pavement. Flame coated the ground in a single shock wave, then imploded and reformed the demon. He sprinted between the legs of giants until he had found a small, single clearing in and alleyway. It was a polygonal plaza that had been crowded with bodies of men and very few women. They were screaming in joy and excitement as they encircled their event. The demon had wandered and forced his way through the pond of fellow infected. He then realized that as one sector of the crowd began their bout of ecstatic shouts, another grew ever silent. He could see that the façade of unity was a lie, the pond was divided into territories. He shoved his way to the front, and finally witnessed the source of the commotion.
Inside of the ring of partisan spectators lay a single rusted vehicle that had been damaged beyond restoration. By the car were two men, a single black man and a tall Asian man, both had bare chests. The demon was only shown the backs of the two men. The black man had brought the Asian man, who towered over him, down to his level. He was bashing his head into the window of the car. With a loud crash, his head shattered what was left of the glass. The black man reeled him away from his torment and bashed his eyes into the rim of the door and onto the remaining fragments of cut-glass. The Asian man elbowed him across the side of his face, gaining his freedom whilst shielding his eyeballs in pain.
The demon witnessed a feat that once amazed him but now he had come to expect. The Asian man’s eye sockets had bled out and steam had poured out from them into the air. He then calmed himself and uncovered his eyes and what was remaining of them was healed to perfection. The demon looked down and noticed that he had sacrificed the muscle in his hands to regain his sight. Such is the cost of regeneration. His hands were now thinner and appeared weak. Backing away, the black man had finally faced the demon, revealing a tattoo upon his bald head. The man sighted the demon out of the corner of his eye and his expression changed to that of further excitement.
“Ha, well if it isn’t Danny-boy, last I heard you were busing crying because your babysitter kicked the bucket.” The black man turned toward him completely oblivious of the task at hand. Danny replied.
“How did you know?” the Asian man took advantage of his enemies distraction and swooped his hand underneath the wrecked car and with a mighty yelp, flung the vehicle at him.
“Pardon me,” The black man said to Danny. He turned to face the vehicle and in an instant, his whole right hand had separated and his arm had become as solid as bone. The whole of the right side of his torso had been enveloped in bone and along his right arm was a large and wide mutilated blade. He raised his bone arm sword and with a single slice, the vehicle separated down the middle and the two remaining pieces flew into the middle of the crowd, killing a few spectators, yet cheers erupted.
The black man was the Skelton of other Skeletons in the zones, known as the Grim Reaper. The reaper dashed at the Asian man at high speed. The Asian man attempted to move away but with another single move, the reaper sliced both his left arm and leg away. He fell but quickly regenerated them at the expense of his torso. He delved his hand into the pavement and drew forth a large stone. The weight, although he was strong, overwhelmed his hand and his fingers broke and crumbled from his hands. There was no blood, as he had used it for the regeneration, but there was crunching of whatever bones he had left as they fell onto the ground.
“Sayonara,” The reaper said and buried his right blade arm into the man’s throat. He lift
ed his struggling body into the air like a rag doll. His regenerating had made him lighter. Then without hesitation, the reaper smiled, withdrew his blade, and sliced once more across the throat. His head fell from the rest of him and the crowds cheered and praised the Reaper, whereas others exchanged valuables such as food and other sustenance.
The Reaper turned again to face Danny and continue asking. “So, you here to get some quick meals? You saw me waste the other guy.”
Danny struggled at hiding his urgency with a collective leer. He looked at the tattoo that had started on the top of his head and ended at the side of his face. Up close the markings became clear. It was a black ink then skin diamond pattern of three, alternating a different symbol. The top was black with a symbol of hope and life formed from his bare flesh whereas the bottom was black and forged with the star symbol of tyranny and maleficence. The very center bore bare skin that surrounded a pitch dark scythe. Danny knew that he wouldn’t help him out of the kindness of his heart; he needed to make a bargain.
“How would you like to double your winnings?” Danny said. The Reaper raised his hand and covered his mouth in thought.
“Hmm…what’s the catch?”
“No catch.”
“And what’s to stop me and my boys from killing you and just taking it?”
Danny stopped himself in hesitation before he made his excuse. He knew what he was going to say would make him hate himself for years to come. “Having more men.”
“Pardon me?” the Reaper laughed as though he had told him a joke. His gang had begun to laugh subtly at Danny. Danny needed to convince him that he was serious. He knew who he was, everyone did, and he didn’t want to have him around his people. He had no choice. He was trying tirelessly to gain his allegiance, at least for that one night.
“If you and your boys help mine just for tonight, we’ll merge. We’ll have more people and more food. Judging from the looks of things, it seems you and everyone else could use some,” Danny said arrogantly. He was not wrong and the Reaper knew it, his small group was dying or starving every day and the Immortals had food. The Reaper lowered his hand back down to his side and replied in a now serious tone.
“Does that mean tonight you can finally introduce me to that girl of yours?” He said cynically. Danny became defensive and stepped closer into his face.
“If you so much as lay a single finger on her – “
“You’ll kill me?” The Reaper said expectantly. Danny then backed away from him as he remembered what Ashley had always said to him. She always told him that he didn’t need to kill people to get the point across. Tonight he could see that neither he nor she had that choice. Nonetheless, her voice rang in his mind. He looked at the ground silent with a scowl.
“I guess that means I get to finally meet your bitch.” Danny’s eyes widened with a sudden burst of anger and he clenched his smoldering and steaming fist. He looked up as though to pounce, but stayed silent as the risk of his family’s lives were in his hands. They needed a leader. He still felt that he cannot fill that seat, perhaps Ashley. Merrick was dead, and he was still a boy, and here he was taking a boyish action and pleading for the help of a criminal, instead of giving his people courage.
“Get your things boys! Firebug over here is taking us to a party!” The rest of his group cheered in excitement as they grabbed for their weapons of knives and firearms. Danny merely scowled at them and at the reaper and without warning, he transformed to flame once again. Fire wrapped around them in a gigantic cylinder. The flame traveled faster and faster until the hot air had become too much for them and the party had finally ascended…and flew with the fire. Danny didn’t know how much longer he could keep on using his abilities, he was exhausted and severely dehydrated, he didn’t even know if he was going to make it home.
The Reaper floated casually in the flame traveling in the skies with a smile. He was delighted of his deal. To him, he had found the treasure he had long sought since the beginning of the zones. He could finally take it easy, as with the amount of people in his new group could withstand anything. He relaxed in the flame until he could see that it had finally begun dissipating. He took his left hand and watched pleasurably as he witnessed his own fingers elongate, tear and mold into hard, tan bone. His right arm had then formed back into his massive blade, and he was ready for indulgence. The heat was gone and the Reaper and his men fell from the grey sky and into the fray.
The Reaper skewered a soldier on the way down with his demonic bone claw as the people fell from Danny’s vortex the higher he rose from the loss of weight. Danny had formed back into a solid form again after everyone had left his embrace. He fell into the ashen cloud that had now coated the earth, until he hit the concrete hard enough for the very ground to crumble into debris. He then stood, unscathed from the fall…and looked around him in awe at the shells that littered the ground through the grey sulfur fog.
The thunderous sound of gunfire filled the air as he stood yet to be noticed by either party at the battle. He saw soldiers and his own people advance from the cloud he stood in. The soldiers assaulted him, only for the bullets to be stopped and only leave mere contusions and scratches upon his battle worn flesh. He had been growing weaker by the minute. The soldiers advanced further only to be cut down and eviscerated by the Reaper and his men. Danny watched the Reaper smile in glee as he had torn mere cocoons to cherry red ribbons. His men were no different, they loved the high that they experienced when enforcing their new and unnatural authority over the weak.
Danny understood why people loved to hurt others. They believe they can be so much better. They can improve their own lives and not a single man could stand in their way. They could rule them; whole armies would crumble before them. Danny watched the Reaper smile as he slaughtered another man, he was powerful compared to him. Danny returned from his state of reflection and focused on one single objective: find Ashley and anyone else who could be alive. He sprinted along the soot covered ground littered with bodies and limbs. He scooped up a small pistol and as he advanced through the grey, a single soldier was caught off guard by him.
Danny stopped and shot twice, both shots impacting him in the chest followed by a swift kick, knocking him to the ground static. Danny could not use his flame. If he did there was a chance he would faint in the middle of the field. Another soldier fired and the impact of the bullet made Danny fall to the ground in shock. He caught himself with both hands as he fell to his knees. He turned immediately to fire at his oppressor, only to be struck by another shot from an automatic rifle. Danny was knocked on his back from a series of blasts to his face, neck, and chest. He could not stay up much longer, he needed to get to cover, but he could not fly there on account of his weakness. He struggled to get to his feet as the impact of each alloy grew stronger and he could feel almost the full brunt of the impact.
Before long, he would not be able to withstand the punishment. Each shot fired had impacted him, even when he was on the ground. He had begun to feel pain, something he had not felt in some time. He stared up at the grey as the water from the sky flooded his eyes through the nimbus cloud that had surrounded him. His head leaned up and he cringed, waiting for one last shot to finish him. Then he heard the gag of the soldier and opened his eyes. There were four tan spikes that had impaled him from behind. They retracted and his gut overflowed with crimson, followed by a single prong to his throat. The final prong retracted and the cocoon fell, his metamorphosis had finally come for him.
The soldier fell, Danny knew in his mind who it was that had saved him, at least for another day. He waited for the Reaper’s psychotic smile to loom around the shell and grab him by the collar and throw him to his feet. He was wrong…it was none other than the one he hoped he would find, Ashley. She was carrying a small child on her back, as well as a sub machine gun in her left hand while her right bone hand remained free. Danny struggled to his feet to greet Ashley. He finally stumbled over as quickly as his battered and exhausted body would al
low. “Ashely!” Danny shouted stumbling over to her.
“Thank God you’re okay!” Ashley exclaimed as she ran toward him to close the distance. Danny could then see with clarity that the child was little Elizabeth. Ashley closed in on him and in that instant, back-handed her boyfriend with her deboned free hand.
“Where the hell were you?!” She screamed harshly.
“Now’s not the time!” Danny replied over gunfire as they both made their way to a safer location for the child. They ran until Danny had begun to limp and Ashley assisted him. They sought shelter in the factory where they had first brought their recruits. Going back only reminded Danny that they were more than likely all dead. They died before they had even left their mark in his family. He didn’t know a single one of them, other than Elizabeth or her late mother. Danny slammed the door shut after Ashely and Elizabeth had run through. They both searched for a single object that could restrict the door until they had found a conveyor belt still in the machinery. Ashley sprinted for it and tore it from the old device and tied it around the double door entrance.
“That won’t hold,” Danny warned, gasping for air. And they ran further across the concrete floor, toward basement that housed their equipment. Then there was a crash…and the ceiling begun to fall upon them. Danny grabbed the two of them and they huddled low to the ground beneath Danny until the ceiling impacted. They were buried underneath the rubble, submerged by the results of chaos. Danny’s vision was blurred and, with the last of his strength, he dug straight out for them. He lay on the ground exhausted, blanketed in white dust. Ashley knelt over him, allowing little Elizabeth to climb down and look down on him as well.
“Get up!” Ashley shouted in distress, shaking his limp body furiously. Elizabeth assisted in forcing him to his feet with equal worry.
“It doesn’t appear that’s going to happen,” A voice rang out from above them. Ashley instantly looked. Danny leered up through the grey and the water had flooded in along with the sound of thunder and a flash of white. Through the gaping hole looking down onto them with a god-like disposition, was a man known best to the entire state. On each side of him stood two others much like him. They wore the same bulky bar exoskeleton of the cloud dancer’s superiors. They were known as the Arxággelos’. They each carried one single two-handed blade. They both bore helmets that shrouded their face from view. One’s blade had an eerie vibration while the other’s had a searing red glow for a blade. In the center stood the man they both knew as the executioner. The one that murdered their kind relentlessly in the name of peace. His blade sparked with voltage as he took his free hand and finally reared his face around it. Ashley looked up bearing a face of ferocity and Danny looked from his reclined position through his blur. At last, a long awaited counter-attack…by none other than Colonel Marcus Huntington.
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