Anger of the Angels

by Thomas Duder

  Catching the desk, Karsiel closed his eyes and clenched his jaw reflexively, having already Foreseen Frank’s next maneuver. Hurling himself over the desk in an empowered leap, Frank roared with sadistic delight as he battered the Angel-gene’s unprotected skull this way and that, dealing damage that would instantly kill a normal mortal.

  Karsiel frowned, the glittering edges of his angel wings beginning to spring to life on either side of him as he took a horrific storm of damage. Frank, roaring, leapt slightly into the air and crushed his skull, landing with magically-assisted power as he smashed it with his knee.

  Reforming and regenerating almost immediately, Karsiel growled as he realized what was wrong with this scene. Flipping the table over with a growl, Karsiel unfurled his wings, forcibly dragging them from their extradimensional prison and bringing them to the fore in this plane.

  Tearing his business suit to tatters, Karsiel blasted the office furnishings away from himself as he unleashed his full power. Frank cackled with laughter as he backflipped away from the table, then brought up a heavy, powerful Mage Shield of purple, eldritch energy. At first digging in his heels as the cascading wave of divine power forced him back, Frank got the bright idea to instead bring them up and set his heels against the Mage Shield, literally riding the wave of force backwards with no apparent damage.

  Catching himself with a chuckle, Frank dispelled the Shield with a wave of his ungloved hands, bring them up with a flourish before thumbing his nose at Karsiel.

  “Hey, that wasn’t very polite of ya’s,” Frank grumbled, delight evident on his brown features, brushing his straight, red bangs back behind his left ear, “No coffee, no blondes, no nothin’! I’m startin’ to think you’re slippin’ there, friendo.”

  “What are you doing here?!” Karsiel growled, Howard’s body halfway shifted to its fully Angelic form, finally opening its eyes to reveal the maddened, violently violet coloration, “You should NOT be here.”

  “What, couldn’t find me on the Overwatch system?” Frank chuckled, “I have my ways-”

  “Stop it, fool,” Karsiel balled up its massive hands and growled harder, the feathers of its wings bristling at its increasing ire, “It’s true you disappeared from mine gaze, God forbid, but I have more than enough power granted unto me to see you.

  Puck, what in the name of the Heavens are you doing here?!”

  The Fae godlet blinked then laughed, his voice his own as his body slowly morphed from toe to head: fair-skinned and lithely-muscled, small of stature but promising power and pleasure, Frank’s black afro gave way to long waves of red hair, matching his long bangs, the ends done up in braids with precious, enchanted metals.

  His smile never touching the promised malice in his violet eyes, Puck presented himself and saluted smartly with a flourish, still wearing Frank’s signature “Black Flag” clothing, “What gave it away? My bubbly personality, perhaps?”

  Karsiel snarled, “The gloves.”

  Puck clucked his tongue, “Damn, I owe him five dollars now. Indeed, even with the permission of the Shop, I cannot recreate his Artifact gloves - they ARE of the higher tiers, after all.”

  Something buzzed in Karsiel’s ear, causing it to shake its head for a moment, its raven locks moving about on their own, “Higher…tiers?”

  Puck frowned for the first time as he stood, arms akimbo, hands at his waist, “Damn, now I owe him five more dollars. Why is it that my Luck doesn’t work with the Shop? Thrice damn.”

  Karsiel shook its head again, dislodging the buzzing sound as madness once again raged through its gaze clearly. Pointing at the Fae godlet, it growled, “The Fae side with me. You cannot be her-’

  “The Unseelie Sidhe side with you, foolish Angel,” Puck slipped his hands into his pockets and began to walk slowly towards Karsiel, his clothes changing to his more comfortable, simple trousers and cotton shirt, a necklace appearing out of his flesh, bearing the golden medallion of his station, radiating with the chaotic Fae energy that was at his beck and call, “And I can be here, for I am not Unseelie Sidhe. Yet. Nay, The Shop hath granted me sanctuary, and are beholden unto Oberon. You may have half of we Fae, but certainly…certainly The Shop has the other half.”

  Noting how Puck was slowly drawing closer, marking his slow, steady tread across the expansive office, Karsiel reigned in its wild, maddened emotions and calmly asked, “So. What is your position here, then? You are, certainly, not of a sufficient strength to take on one such as I, powered by the Lord Himself as I am.”

  “Me? Why, I’m the vanguard!” Puck laughed, drawing closer, his hands once again visible as he shrugged, several stones dropping to the ground, “And a message. And a warning.

  Mostly, a joke.”

  “Joke?” Karsiel asked, noting the stones but keeping its eyes on the Fae. Laughing, Puck drew closer and poked Karsiel in its massive chest.

  “Indeed, a joke!” Puck grinned, “And THIS is the punchline!”

  With that he slipped his fingers up higher, slapping Karsiel’s chin. For a moment Karsiel’s eyes widened in a rush of absolute rage before it cried out, under vicious assault as Puck kicked it square in its crotch, smashing its dual parts hard.

  Not wasting any time, Karsiel dropped to one knee and drew its arms up to protect its face, unable to draw its wings closed due to Puck’s positioning. The Fae had done well in bringing the battle ultra-close quarters as he bounced from one foot to the other, peppering Karsiel’s form with close range side-kicks. Swaying from side to side from the force of his swift attacks, Karsiel grit its teeth and bore the pain as best as it could as Puck kept up his barrage of blows, suddenly breaking pattern as he thrust-kicked Karsiel’s face, breaking through his guard suddenly.

  Dropping the Angel-gene to the ground and completing his step, gaining stability again as he stood on one of Karsiel’s wings, Puck cackled with cruel delight as he dropped one knee viciously, seeking to crush Karsiel’s head again.

  Under vicious assault and without time to regenerate completely, Karsiel knew instinctively that if it were to shift its energies at all that Puck would be able to wriggle himself within Karsiel, the Angel, itself at this range. Though Karsiel itself could not explain how it knew of this, it knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was what made the Fae so dangerous, ethereal creatures with vampiric capabilities whose powers only grew in the face of other energy-users. Now that Karsiel was well within Puck’s range, each time it utilized the divine power it had been granted was a chance to infiltrate and destroy the Angel-gene from within.

  Karsiel, instead, focused on physical defense, shifted its head to the side and brought up an arm to parry Puck’s follow-up strikes. Ignoring both Foreflex and Foresight, Karsiel instead kept its head pinned to Puck’s knee, utilizing the angle to decrease some of Puck’s brutal strength.

  Growling at the positioning but not willing to give up his advantage, Puck immediately bent over in an unnatural manner, gripping at Karsiel’s shoulder with one hand while he began to hammer at Karsiel’s head with his free elbow.

  Keeping one massive arm curled by its head, feeling that arm begin to weaken and falter from Puck’s continuous attacks, Karsiel flailed its free arm, trapped as it was at an awkward angle. Despite Puck’s slim frame, the creature weighed heavier than expected, his strikes unbelievably heavy.

  In a burst of maddened strength, Karsiel roared and broke its own pinned wing, rolling over and smashing the pinions of its free wing into Puck, sending the Fae godlet hurtling into the wall. Rolling up into a ball and cackling despite having the wind driven from him, Puck landed on all fours as he immediately transformed into his Cait Sith mode.

  Noting the tiny black cat, Karsiel got to its feet quickly. In a haze of pain, it sent its wings away and shifted back to its heroic, mortal form, standing in the ruins of his office in Howard’s body once again.

  “So, it’s true, it’s true!” Puck crowed with laughter, wincing despite his own busted ribs, “You, yon fool! You can’t see EVERY
THING then!”

  Gritting his teeth, Karsiel began to limp slowly towards Puck, “And YOU have taken quite a bit of damage for a so-called creature of energy.”

  “It’s your filthy aura that’s messing with me, maddened chicken bones,” Puck began to slowly edge his way towards the bay windows that looked out over Neo Los Angeles, “You have yet to use anything other than your modified energy, lest you awaken to your truly insane nature.”

  Karsiel, his Foresight once again kicking in, noted with interest Puck’s death in every single possible future, “So. This was the joke?”

  “No,” Puck crowed with laughter, “THIS is!”

  With that several explosions erupted behind Karsiel, the force of the blasts blocked by Karsiel’s one operational wing, locked away as it was in storage yet still usable. No, what caught Karsiel’s interest was how the Fae godlet laughed while rushing towards the explosion and, transforming into a silver needle, pierced the window before once again taking the form of a small sparrow and flying away.

  Karsiel frowned as cracks began to flow out of the piercing, flowing ever and further outward. Chuckling to himself, Karsiel turned and spoke aloud to the computer, ever listening for his orders as behind him the cracks formed the message Puck had delivered for The Shop.

  NO GODS

  NO MASTERS

  SEE YOU IN TWO HOURS FRIENDO

  “On. Double up security downstairs, have a fresh change of clothes brought up to me, and have new office furnishings brought in. These did not meet my standards.”

  Ignoring the computer’s affirming chime, Karsiel sat down on his office chair, taking small comfort in how at least that had survived the freak, unforeseen melee.

  Unforeseen and unaccounted for.

  ****

  The Party raged on.

  Tordek, wild and empowered, led the charge as a wave of Tordekians in a variety of clothing and station followed in his wake. Riding atop a Neo Los Angeles PD car armored and empowered against attacks of all types, they had nevertheless never considered the compulsions of Tordek’s personal beer flying through the air as he whirled his grand battle axe about.

  Block after block fell to the compulsion of the revelers as their combined aura flowed over the land, increasing their power exponentially to the point where they began to call out to the citizens locked safely within their homes.

  Some answered, having been waiting for this very thing to happen, coming out in a variety of prepared party clothes and dishabille. Others, still, prayed to whatever gods they followed and ignored the Tordekian orgy of alcohol, dancing, chanting, and music.

  In all of his twenty years on the force, Sergeant Millers had only ever heard of the Tordekian rave and the growing dangers it could present. Tall in stature and with a complete cop’s mustache, Millers had never grown as complacent as some with the coming of The Shop.

  Though he had heard that a local rave had been planned and granted license to operate, he had never thought his own men would have fallen as they did, especially since they had been reinforced for magical attacks and charms. Having only recently guessed, correctly, that this was spiritual in nature and not magical, he had immediately called for the Catholic Church and several others from the American Federation’s Theistic Council only to hear that in no certain terms could any other religion jump in to stop something that was allowed by one side or the other within the Walpurgisnacht Jam.

  “Street battles and armies,” Millers growled as he walked through his precinct offices, ignoring the men and women who even now continued to gear up and rush about, preparing for the coming wave that was heading directly for them, “Magic and gods, the whole lot of them. Fuckin’…fuck!”

  A muscular street cop shoved a stun spear into his hand as he joined the front lines preparing by the wide double doors of the precinct, her biceps bulging impressively as she spoke, “Coming to do some real work for once, Sergeant Millers?”

  ”Shut up, Tracy, and lemme get in on this,” Millers noted, for the first time in his long and tiring career, how clean the checkerboard marble of the floor was. Since things had changed after the Havoc of 2012, he had never noticed that before.

  For a moment, he was caught between the absolute terror of his own mortality and the thrill of what could happen next, facing down the unknown and the known alike.

  Sucking on his teeth lightly, Millers noted his hands for the first time. He was well going on into his fifties but being a beat cop was all he had ever wanted it to be. Ever since the changes had hit, it was only all the better at times.

  Grinning at his fellow sergeant and taking the stun spear from her hands, he nodded to her and tried not to notice her impressive array of female muscle, choosing instead to focus on the fight to come.

  As tall as Sgt. Millers and almost thrice his width in pure muscle, Sergeant Tracy Escalardo began to make her own plans regarding her battle buddy once her beloved god, Tordek, arrived to take the precinct.

  ****

  Dash smiled as he flexed first one then the other wrist, testing the limits of the strange armors he had been brought. Having gotten reacquainted with his notes, kept in a backup storage since Control was still mostly down for repairs, as was the current excuse, Dash once again felt fully like Dash again.

  Grinning wickedly to himself, he noted that perhaps he was a bit more himself than usual.

  “Frank, you devious sonofabitch,” Dash chuckled, “You didn’t even need to tell me. I see what you’re doing. Reckon we’re gonna have us some fun, eh?”

  Grimcan looked over to the Ungrimm Troll from where he was eating, having talked Andrew into firing up the grill. Jimmy, taking note of the grumbling Troll, looked over and asked, “Hey hey, what was that? You ain’t Evil Dash, are ya?”

  Andy, in the kitchen partition of the van, quietly laid a hand on one of his enchanted kitchen knives.

  Laughing and waving them off, Dash responded, “Naw, naw, I’m me. Just noticed something in the notes for tonight.”

  Grimcan, satisfied with that answer, went back to devouring his treated steaks hungrily. Jimmy chuckled and went back to reading his newspaper, as Andy, ever wary, continued to glare at Dash from the shadows, taking up another enchanted kitchen knife in his free hand.

  Seeing this, Dash offered his nicest grin and held both gauntleted hands up, “I just remembered, and naw, bro - I’m me. Honest. For reals this time.”

  Gazing into Dash’s humongous green eyes, the shadows that trembled about Andy’s aura suddenly solidified again as he barked with nervous laughter, setting his knives down.

  Dash pointed at him suddenly, his voice dipping down a degree, “Or AM I?!”

  Jimmy laughed as Andy tripped over his own feet to rush out of the kitchen segment, both knives in his hands as he snarled curses at “Evil Dash.” Andy, seeing his reaction, began to curse at him as well.

  “Hey HEY, you’re not the one he fucking basketball gigadunked the last time he went bad guy on us, man!”

  “Hey, hey,” Dash laughed, slapping a knee as he leaned over and wheezed for breath, “It was a megadunk, not a gigadunk, and naw…naw, I’m sorry, bro. Seriously, honestly. Here, check my shadow and see.”

  Andy, both knives brandished, slowly edged his way towards Dash as he exited the van, his footing sure and professional. Sniffing at the outstretched hand, he glared at Dash then grumbled as the knives disappeared from his hands, “Fuckin’ with the wrong guy tonight, man, just…fucking…gah.”

  Grimcan, having ignored them all, belched happily and eagerly, “That, THAT was necessary! Whatever herbs, however you cooked this, it was…amazing. I feel refreshed and strengthened already!”

  Jimmy patted the horse’s head gently with a big hand, “Heeeeey, ancient family recipes. Y’know that Andy there’s kind of something of a blood-born magus, right? Ancient family secrets, including what we cook this stuff with.”

  “Ginger,” Andy answered simply as he stomped through the van back into his makeshift kitchen, �
�And mandrake root, some other stuff.”

  “Alchemy is kind of a thing in his family,” Jimmy chuckled, both wickedly and knowingly, “And it shows in our particular style of cooking.”

  “MY style of cooking,” Andy grumbled, “You can’t cook for shit.”

  “Heeeeey,” Jimmy responded suddenly, offense livid on his features, “I can cook PRETTY good, buddy! I just never cook good for YOU because you don’t provide the proper motivation!”

  “Right, riiiight, meaning I’m not pretty enough,” Andy responded, muttering to himself about how he WAS pretty enough.

  Ignoring his partner, Jimmy turned back to Dash and nodded, “Hey, you sure you don’t wanna eat anything? I mean, gettin’ liquified like that-”

  ”Naw, naw,” Dash waved him off as he interrupted smoothly, “I actually feel pretty good, like I got a reset or somethin’. Hell, I don’t even need yer cooking, though that iiiiis makin’ me drool over here! That’s a great smell, that is!”

  Andy grinned and wafted savory-smelling smoke his way, “Hey hey, bro. You smellin’ this? I got teriyaki on these strips, and - oh! Look, everyone here has eaten except for you!”

  Dash gave him a mock frown, grumbling in an exaggerated voice, “You playin’ dirty motherfucker-”

  Ignoring the long litany of expletives, Andy laughed and knowingly made a plate for him only to come to a complete stop. Jimmy, noting Andy’s sudden reaction, cracked his knuckles together and became serious for once.

  “Hey, Dash-”

  Grimcan whickered, shaking his head, “I think we all can sense the approach. We’ve been discovered!”

  Turning to Dash quickly, Jimmy held up three fingers, “You need us to buy time, right? That’s on top of the usual. Gratis and lagniappe not included.”

  Dash waved him off, looking towards the north as the shadows about Andy began to grow far more solid and sentient, blending with his normally human aura. Drawing his kitchen knives out and strapping them to hidden sheathes about his form, Andy ignored them as Dash and Jimmy began to negotiate.