The Day of Wrath pt. 1 | Teen Ink

The Day of Wrath pt. 1

February 17, 2015
By logant77 BRONZE, Hartland, Wisconsin
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logant77 BRONZE, Hartland, Wisconsin
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Favorite Quote:
"Almost doesn't count"


New York, 1561

Each man is breathing heavily with the weight of battle upon us. Each man’s heart is beating to the steady rhythm of boots walking across the sun dried ground. They will call this the battle of the century, the war has been alive for three months now and we are to vanquish the enemy. It will be easy to destroy them for they are small in numbers compared to us. We wait on the battlefield for the enemy to engage. The waiting is terrible, the smell of cooking fires wafts over the entire battlefield, rumbling stomachs and wetting mouths. My comrade leans over and says
“When do you think those flesh-mongers will start? I’m sick of the damned waiting.”
“Patience, do not wish battle upon us for it could be bloody.” I reply.
Swords at the ready and men fueled by adrenaline nobody sleeps. Then suddenly, the time has come, a war horn echoing across the battlefield, not knowing what side it came from I frantically look around to see a man a mere ten feet from me run into battle then get speared by a volley of arrows then roll over with eyes that do not see.
Then a deafening sound of hundreds of thousands of men fighting at once. Open field battle is engaged and people all around me drop, my heart quickens and I am shooting as fast as I can. I can only manage about five arrows a minute, and as I am nocking an arrow behind a tree I see an enemy come towards me with a sword. Fight or flight mode clicked in my brain and I attack, only thinking of survival. I run through the man with my dagger strapped to my thigh and watch as his face of shock quickly changes as the life leaves his eyes. As he dies another comes at me and I try to rip free my dagger but am unsuccessful. As the battle rages around me I think “this is it. I am going to die right here.” I pray to whatever gods are out there, praying to live, praying to somehow overcome these foes and ensure our victory and end the war. When he swing. Pain ruptures across my chest and it feels like I’m on fire, blood burning down my body and as the last drip leaves my chest my vision is blurred and I see the enemy beginning to win, I see what I once called comrades and friends laying dead on the ground with mutilated bodies and missing limbs. When my vision goes black. I awaken to see a black figure hunched over me with angelic-like wings and a onyx halo floating above her head almost glowing with darkness. She begins to speak with a voice so powerful I am not sure if it is in my head or if she is speaking aloud. “You wished to see your comrades win and you wished to go home to see your family, no matter; I can see to that as long as you give yourself to me in the form of a curse on all of your kin. For when they turns sixteen they will gain amazing abilities at a terrible price. They will serve me in life and death. I will give you the ability that enhances your prowess in battle and your skin will be as hard as diamonds.” Desperately wanting to win and to see my family again, I accept the terms. My mind was clouded with longing for my wife and children. “I agree to your terms, Lady..?”
“You may call me Lady Maledict. The dark angel, remember my name for it will run in your blood forever. You will have the Maledict curse. Or gift, if you will.” With that she turned a wicked looking black blade with a thin scratch down the middle. Fitting, for someone like her. Beautiful and dark. She turns the blade on her self and stabs herself through the chest, piercing the heart. The dark angel produced a terrible inhuman scream that pierced my ears and seeped into my bones. She then stabbed me in the same spot then drew me close, mixing our blood wounds. Whispering the words “Dies iræ, dies illa solvet sæclum in favilla: teste David cum Sibylla.” Her blood was darker than the deepest pits of hell and burned like acid to the touch. Before she melted into a pile of ashes she said, you need not food or drink but blood to fuel your body. Then she was gone.
Waking up in the midst of battle was like waking up to a mammoth in your room, the clatter of iron ringing in my ears and the groans of the injured and dying carried across the battlefield. The battle had carried on into the night and everyone was tired and wanting to finish, but not daring abandon their army. Feeling a surge of strength and gratitude towards Lady Maledict, the dark angel, I sense an arrow hurtling towards me and the weirdest thing happened, I see the arrow, going as slow as molasses and easily sidestep it. Feral Instinct took over, I was in a blood frenzy. A look of utter bewilderment crosses the face of the owner of the arrow before I cross fifty yards in a matter of a few seconds. Ripping him apart with my bare hands. My body had taken over and limb by limb leaves his body in the excitement of the chase. My mind was in autopilot and there was nothing I could do, it was like I was watching from someone else’s eyes. Predator against prey. I walk a lion among sheep. I drink his blood and feel refreshed as nothing else has made me feel. I sense another and feel pinpricks in my upper lip and in a grimace of pain curl my top lip revealing fangs sharper than a knife. I lunge at the terrified man witnessing a comrade being ripped apart by a mere man, well no longer just a man. I sink my teeth into his neck and suck every drop of blood from his mortal body. I will walk a lion among sheep. I will change this war forevermore. I will rule.

Flying up and frantically clutching the bedsheets Erik has the same nightmare as the past three weeks. A dark being with onyx eyes and an onyx halo reciting the words “Dies iræ, dies illa solvet sæclum in favilla: teste David cum Sibylla.” over and over, getting louder and louder until she is screaming with what sounds like tens of thousands of voices saying the same thing. Then everything goes silent and she carves into the ground XVI. Then she lunges with large fangs and a grotesque figure. The adrenaline in his system is kicking so he decides to get up and get a glass of water to calm his nerves and quench his thirst. Looking at his dog Mollie he gets up and invites her on his journey to the kitchen, carefully stepping to avoid waking up his parents in the bedroom across the hall. As he is filling up his glass he looks outside and thinks he sees a figure in the shadows, but it is gone just as fast as it had come. Thinking nothing of it he tops off his water and finishes it in three giant gulps and returns to sleep.
When his alarm blared him awake he groans and slightly opens his eyes to go to another dreaded day at school. The only reason he goes to school is for art class. Erik expresses himself through anything he can do with his hands. His most famous piece of work is a slender figure with black hair and very pale skin standing atop a building looking over the city traffic at night. Wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt with a sanguine dagger at his hip. The image keeps flashing in his head since he turned fourteen so he decided to do what he always does with his problems, draw it out and try to make what he can of it. He worked relentlessly for hours upon hours for days on it. Hardly stopping to eat or sleep he furiously drew and painted this, each line a frustration, each paint stroke a solution. A few weeks ago when he finally finished it, the owner of the Museum of Modern Art happens to wander by and sees this painting. He gives Erik his card and says if he is ever interested in showing his work he would be more than happy to give him a slot right away as his painting had astonished him for a fifteen year old.
Later that night Erik sat on the edge of his bed wondering if he should call. The phone number dialed and his thumb hovering over the send button he forces himself to press it down. The same hoarse voice of the old man picks up after three rings.
“Hello, who is this?” he spits
“Hi, this is Erik Vanguard, I am the one who painted the man upon the ledge in all black. I thought it over and it only seems right that I give it a shot and see how the public reacts to this painting. I was wondering if you had any slots open right now?”
“Hmm, yes I remember you, a remarkable painting I say, the way you contrasted the pale pallor of the skin with the darkness of the clothes and the surroundings but make it a little more complex with the lights and colors of New York. Simply amazing.”
“Well thank you very much sir, but do I have to be present to start off the show-case?”
“No Mr. Vanguard you do not, in fact if you would like to deliver the painting tomorrow we can have everything set up within two weeks.”
“Okay thank you sir, I will have it to you tomorrow by about 4 o’clock.”
“Sounds good kid, see you then.”
The phone clicked then the line went dead. Erik was filled with excitement and he could not believe his art was going to be shown at the Museum of Modern Art.
Grudgingly Erik gets up and quickly showers and throws on a pullover hoodie with some jeans and heads out the door to leave for school. The vibrant colors of fall surround him in the oranges and reds and browns of the leaves that wither off the trees. Getting on his bike he heads to school, dodging people and cars as he hurries to school he smells the ever-changing scents of New York. Garbage then italian food, garbage, then chinese food, garbage then mexican food. After the usual 10 minute commute to school he sees the familiar brickwork of his daily torment.
Putting his bike in the bike rack and locking it up, he is stopped the bully that messes with him everyday.
“Hey Vanweenie, are you going to go home to your mommy and tell her that you painted her a pretty butterfly?” Roaring laughter from him and his buddies boom across the courtyard each one looking brutish and standing over six feet tall.
“Actually no, I was working on a family picture of you and your family, but for some reason I have trouble drawing disgusting pigs.”
The change of emotion in Larry and his friends would have been humourous if Erik wasn’t about to get beaten up.
“What did you say about me you little punk?” Anger straining every syllable.
Against better judgment Erik shoots back, “You heard me, or are you deaf and ugly?”
The next thing Erik sees is a fist and then black.

Waking up in the nurses office he feels a terrible pain across his face and red dances across his vision, the contents of his stomach threatening to come up.
“Woah honey slow down, you took quite a thrashing there, slowly now, stand up and have a look in the mirror. I did the best I could, but you will need to go to the hospital, I just called your mom now.
Standing up Erik muttered something that sounded like “Shanks mish zanther.”
Ms. Xander, the school nurse, always took care of Erik. He was in fact her nephew. Erik got up and when he looked in the mirror he sees what he always sees. A tall and lanky boy with olive skin and shaggy dark brown hair with normally gray eyes and glasses and a short slightly pointed nose, but now what he sees is swollen, bloodshot eyes, a big gash in his now crooked nose, and a cheek that looks the size of a melon. “Damn that kid.” Erik mutters, “He always makes fun of me and beats me up. What can I do Aunt Cindy?”
“It’s Ms. Zander here at school Erik, and in regards to the boy? I’m proud you stood up to him, next time just don’t do it in such an insulting way. He knocked you out in the first punch and continued to beat on your unconscious body.” She looked sad, “Oh, here’s your glasses.”
She handed him a pair of what could have passed for glasses if they didn’t look like they got run over by a car. “Looks like your mom is here, say hi to her for me would you? I haven’t seen her since Labor day.”
“Yeah sure thing, see you tomorrow. Thank you again.” Erik pushed his way out the door and into his moms car.
Looking at his mom, her eyes began to well with tears when she looked at his face.
“I don’t want to talk about it right now okay mom?” He spat at her then looked out the window.
“Look, I’m sorry that the dumbass keeps hurting you, but we can’t move. Steve is making good money where he is at and we can’t afford to move. Not after I lost my job.”
Last year, Erik’s mom had lost her job and they were kicked out of their house and were forced to live on the streets. One day a man named Stephen came by and gave them $200 to eat and stay at a motel for a couple nights. A stranger out of the blue. It reminded Erik that not all people are bad. But anyway, Steve and Clara, Erik’s mom, found themselves going on dates and soon enough they moved in together and they moved from North Carolina to New York where Steve works for a private jet company and makes better money here.
Erik’s actual dad disappeared when he was a baby, leaving all expenses to Clara.
At a new school, in a new state, with new people, Erik had a hard time adjusting, until one day a red, frizzy haired girl with green eyes scooted up to him while he was eating at lunch, and said,    “Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to come over later to study for literature.”
Erik looked around to see if she was talking to him, he realizes she is.
“Me? I don’t even know your name.” Erik replied
Slightly flushed she extended her hand and said “Hi, I’m Grace, you are Erik, am I correct?”
Imitating her gesture, Erik says “I’m Erik, yes, how do you know me?”
“I sit next to you in literature, occasionally I look over to copy notes and I noticed that you are an amazing artist.” Grace said.
“Oh why thank you.” Erik slightly embarrassed by this. “Well considering you’re the first person who has even acknowledged my existence, why not?”
“Cool, meet me by the gym doors after school, if you get lost, just call me.” With that she took his hand and wrote her number on it. She rushed away with her red-orange hair swinging wildly.
After school they met up at the gym doors and walked to her house, on the way they talked mostly about Erik, what he likes to do, his life before coming here, things of the sort.
When they finally get to Grace’s house Erik noticed that her little apartment her and her aunt shared was nice a homey, dark green walls and carefully aligned furniture and an elaborate glass coffee table in the middle. They head up to Grace’s room and it is as different as can be, black painted walls and movie posters everywhere. A heap of papers on the desk and a garbage can over-full of crumpled up papers. They snack on sandwiches and it’s now Erik’s turn to ask the questions.
“What do you like to do?”
“Well when I’m bored I like to read or watch movies, typically of the fantasy sort. Its easier to get away from the regular world.” Grace says.
“I can relate to that, that’s kind of why I draw, to focus my inner creativity into something I can visually see, but I am in control, not the author or the director.” Erik replied.
In between bites of her sandwich she continues on,
“My mom died when I was three. Her, my dad and I were in the car on our way back from the grocery store back in our hometown of rural New York, when a patch of black ice formed on a corner, beyond that was trees. I bet you can figure out the rest..” She didn’t seem too bothered by anything but the fact that she didn’t know her mom, “My dad died two years later, overcome with grief he turned to the booze and stumbled out of a bar after beating someone and slipped on some snow on the way out and hit his head on the corner of a step, poor guy didn’t even know what happened. After that my aunt took me in and here I am now. Not much more to me.”
Erik didn’t know what to say.
“I’m sorry that you have experienced so much death in such early years of your life. It must be hard. I know ‘sorries’ can seem empty. People don’t know what it’s like. But my dad disappeared when I was born, so I know what it is like to be missing a parent.”
“Well it can be, but I never knew too much about them. It’s hard to miss someone you hardly knew.”
An awkward silence followed. It was almost heavy. Grace continued with her homework and Erik took the time to study her. Reddish-orange slightly frizzy hair, pulled back in a yellow ponytail. Slight amount of freckles and green eyes that popped against the colors of her skin and hair. She was beautiful he thought.

The following months were the best of Erik’s life, everyday him and Grace would hang out and study or go to random bakeries, as they both loved sweets, or talked about movies. They grew almost inseparable. As the leaves changed colors and eventually were swept away under a blanket of snow Erik finds himself trying to learn how to ice skate at the central park ice rink.
“Okay Erik, stand on the ice and just stand straight up, you can do it!” Grace cheered.
“I just can’t! I keep falling, I’m no good at thi-” Erik slipped and fell again.
Grace laughed and Erik couldn’t help but smiling, he loved her laugh, it was like gold. One last time he tried and he stood.
“See, you did it!” Grace exclaimed.
“Yeah I guess I did, only took fifteen times to just stand up.” Erik muttered.
Standing in the middle of the ice rink Grace is showing him how to move his feet in order to glide. He keeps slipping and having to hold on to Grace for support. Eventually they just stop and stare at eachother. The cold biting into their faces turned Grace’s cheeks more rosy than normal and her breath clouds bouncing off of Erik. They were clutching each other’s forearms for balance just standing there, nothing else mattered to them, two best friends ready to take on the world. They have had many many sleepovers and were as close as can be. Of course Erik didn’t tell Grace that he secretly loved her, he did not want to ruin their amazing friendship. It is the only thing from keeping him sane. His nightmares have become more frequent and he keeps thinking that people are watching him in the shadows. He is worried about passing his drivers test as his sixteenth birthday is in two days and there are just things that he could not do without her; including life.
“Do you want to take a break?” Grace asked
“Yeah why not, let’s go get some hot chocolate and warm up for a bit.”
As they hunted for a nearby cafe there seemed to be more noise than usual Erik noticed, his head was pounding with the amount of noise and a scent of salt seemed to stick to everyone. The weird thing was the scent made him hungry. Almost wanting to bite somebody, shaking himself out of his trance he failed to notice that Grace had stopped a little further back.
“What are you doing, stupid?” In a teasing, mocking voice.
“I didn’t see you stopped I’m sorry.” He replied.
“You okay?” they moved into the shop. “You seem a little off. It’s been like that for the past two weeks or so. Something bothering you?”
“Yeah I’m fine, I don’t know, I just feel a little weird is all. Probably coming down with a cold or something.”
They ordered their drinks and sat in silence, watching the usual bustle of tourists walk around cluelessly. The aroma of coffee wafting through the shop was dancing through their nostrils.
After about five minutes Grace said to Erik, “Come on, I want to show you something.”
Erik nodded and said “Yeah sure, where are we going?” 
“A place I used to go as a kid, when I wanted to get away and sort through my thoughts, it looks like you could use that.” She laced her fingers through Erik’s and his face suddenly felt hot. Trying to blame it on the cold after Grace had noticed he thought he could see a trace of a smirk on her face.
After walking about three blocks Erik found himself back in Grace’s neighborhood but when they would usually go left up to her apartment they went right, down an alley.
“Hey, I wanna show you something, there is this secret hideout I used to hide in as a kid, it’s part of an old building. It can be our little secret.” She said.
On their way down they hear a gruff voice behind them saying “Well, well, well. What do we have here boys? A couple of skinny little children away from the eyes of other people.” He whipped out a switchblade. “Hard to find these days, without their parents.” With a nasty snarl he finishes with, “Less mess to clean up.”
Next thing they know is two rough hands the size of baseball mitts seize both Erik and Grace and then a cloth is put on their heads, blinding them, then their hands are bound and they are tossed into what Erik assumed was the back of a van and all they hear is the door slamming and the van squealing off.
“S***, Grace are you okay?” Erik was frantic.
“Yes. Where are they taking us?” She managed through choked sobs.
“I don’t know. But when they open the door. I am going to cause a distraction and you are going to run and get help. Don’t stop for me, just keep going until you find somebody.”
“You know I can’t do that. I can’t leave you behind to these monsters. What do you think they are going to do to us? I’m scared.” Grace started to cry. Erik crawled to the sound of her sobs and tried to comfort her as much as possible.
The drivers were not very careful of the cargo in the back. Erik and Grace had a hard time keeping together because what seemed like every two seconds they went over a bump large enough to send them flying away from each other, or whipping around corners causing them to slam into the sides of the van. After what was roughly an hour in the van they came to a halt and the engine died.
“Remember what I said, run and don’t stop until you find someone.” Erik commanded.
“Okay. Only because I might be more of use not being held captive.” Grace replied.
Erik managed a weak smile that Grace couldn’t see. The doors opened and they were thrust out of the van. Their blindfolds were taken off and Grace and Erik looked at each other. They were in an abandoned warehouse with about fifty other kids. They all looked tired and hungry. Like they hadn’t eaten or slept in days. Some were bleeding in parts that should be left unnamed and others just looked so malnourished they could be blown over by the wind. Erik held their gaze and did a slight nod. He then fell down screaming and wriggling as if in pain. Falsifying a lack of breath.
“Oh my god! He’s having an asthma attack! Let me get his inhaler!”
She reached down and pretended to dig in his pockets when the thugs bent over to see what was taking place, she flew up and formed a hammer with her fists and knocked one of the thugs in the jaw then sprinted away. Faster than she had ever run in her entire life. Erik stopped wriggling to see what was happening. Before she got even 30 yards she was tackled to the ground by the same man she punched. She broke his nose, a sick sense of satisfaction washed over Erik before he realized they were being taken to an elevator. The tang of blood was everywhere. All of the kids and the thugs piled into the service elevator and the leader, it seemed, pressed the down button. The screech of gears turning clawed at everybody’s ears. The descent was silent except for the gears bearing all of their weight. When they reached the bottom Erik found himself in a cavern with cells back to back. He could see that there were two people per cell, they all looked frightened and backed away when a thug came near. In pairs the kids ranging from no more than 6 years old all the way to at least 17 years old were thrown into each cell. As Erik and Grace were next to each other they were fortunate enough to be thrown into a cell together. They hit the sandy gravel with a thud and the sound of the door closing behind them, encasing them into even more darkness. Grace and Erik looked at one another and just hugged like they had jumped out of an airplane and they were each others savior. The night went on with the occasional scream of a kid when a thug came and got him or her. The sounds were terrible, a helpless kid being forced into who-knows-what. The rest of the night creeped by followed by the next day without anything happening. Grace and Erik were starving, they hadn’t had anything save for the hot chocolate they had a couple days ago. Looking sickly with mascara everywhere, Grace looked at Erik and just sobbed into his shoulder. When a rough voice behind the cell door said “Enjoy, runts.” with the clatter of a metal tray, stale bread and moldy cheese was launched through the door. along with a water pitcher, spilling half of it.  The stroke of the grandfather clock came from somewhere marking midnight. Grace had a crudely drawn cupcake carved into the gravel and said
“Happy birthday. I know it’s a shitty way to spend your birthday. Not knowing what’s going to happen to us, dehydrated, and halfway starving.” A tear rolled down her cheek.
“Thank you, and whether we were in your apartment, my apartment, this cell, or hell. I’m happy to spend my birthday with you.” Erik replied, wiping the tear off her face.
Erik slid his finger down the middle of the cupcake and said, “Here, half for you and me.” Then wiped his hand across his half then finished, “Yum that was delicious. Thank you chef Grace Allen.”
A laughed bubbled out of her. “Damn you and your ways of making me laugh. We are in a cell, who knows where doing who knows what, and you made me laugh.”
The last stroke of midnight occurred with a final chong. Then suddenly Erik moved to the darkest corner of the room with such speed it startled her.
“What-- how did you get over there so fast?” Grace was concerned now.
“Stay away!” Said a demonic voice that did most definitely not belong to Erik.
Grace rushed towards Erik, crying, “Erik! What’s happening to you, please tell me what’s wrong!” Erik was shielding his face from everything, it was tucked into his body, he was stumbling around screaming in that terribly voice. When it got so loud Grace had to cover her ears and dust began to rain down from the cavern above, a huge thunderous yell unleashed from Erik, and a red aura of energy knocked Grace on her back, knocking the wind out of her. Trying to get her breath back and see straight she look at Erik, his eyes were solid black. Erik stood there with no emotion, even as Grace watched, his normally brown hair turned to the deepest shade of black and all color drained out of him, leaving him with a pale pallor. His eyes returned to the sapphire blue they were before. Protruding from his mouth were razor sharp fangs that were whiter than snow.
“Come on.” He said, “We’re getting out of here.”
In Grace’s shock she managed to mumble a few unintelligible words, staring in disbelief at what just happened. With feline grace, Erik bounded across the entire cell and stared outside.
“Erik. Stop. What the hell just happened?!” Grace cried.
“I don’t know what happened. I just need to get out of here. I’m starving.” Erik replied.
There were dark veins under his pale skin showing like ink.
Erik yelled for the guards, yelling for food. He was starving. In a hunger frenzy. When a guard finally came over he stopped and peered into the cell.
“My my, what a wonderful looking girl. Perfect to add to my collection.” He slowly advanced, undoing his belt. Grace and Erik were backed against the wall.
“Stay there or I cut your little friend’s throat out.” The guard pressed Grace against the cold, hard, stone wall. Running his hands up her shirt, then sliding down and unbuttoning her pants. Grace’s pulse quickened and Erik could watch no longer. Suddenly Erik was on top of the guard punching him until his face was no longer recognizable. He finished by plunging his razor sharp teeth into the guards neck, flooding his mouth with the salty-sweet taste of blood, sucking every last drip of blood out of the guard’s body. Erik’s veins were no longer visible under his skin when he got up. He looked more in control of himself. Grace didn’t know what to do, or say. She had to swallow the awful taste of bile rising in her throat.
“Come on.” Erik said, "this way."
As Grace got up, her knees wobbling and body shaking, her and Erik walked out of the cell only to be faced with six guards. Hand in hand they started to back up, but in an instant they were all armed with guns and bats and anything they could get their hands on.
“Hey! What the hell, how did you guys get out? Get back in your cell or we will kill you.” Shouted the burliest of men. Erik and Grace did a 180 and ran as fast as they could, the clatter of bullets against metal could be heard behind them as the men shot off rounds. Flying around a labyrinth of corners and tunnels they eventually stopped, out of breath. The guards’ footsteps could be heard getting quieter and quieter until no more. While Grace was desperate for air, Erik didn’t seem to need to breathe anymore, and all that running did not seem to bother him. Not wanting to stop for any longer, he hefted Grace unto his shoulders, surprised by how light she was, and continued to run. Trying to retrace their steps they found themselves looking up at the open doors of the lift that took them down here. Almost yelping with delight, Grace looked at Erik with a grin that was a mile wide. All they needed to do was cross the opening and press the up button and they were out of there. It seemed too easy. In fact, it was not. Right when Erik and Grace were about to cross they were faced with the man who took them in the first place.
“Well, well, well.” He began, again, “Where do you kiddies think you’re going?” He boomed.
Erik found the courage to yell back. “I’m taking my friend and we are leaving, you can’t do anything about it.” He took a step forward.
The man mirrored Erik and said, “I don’t think so. You guys are probably worth a thousand each.”
Anger boiled inside of Erik. With a burst of rage Erik sprinted towards the man ready to pound his face in like he did with the other guard. But the man sidestepped Erik’s punch just as easily as if he were a child. Infuriated he swung again and again. The man dodging each punch with a maniacal grin carved into his face. What surprised Erik the most was he was punching as fast as he could, whatever happened to him allowed him to punch faster and harder, yet the man kept dodging his punches. Surely not a regular man could do this. Suddenly the man boomed “Enough!” and punched Erik square in the chest, causing him to fly across the opening. Landing on his back and grimacing in pain. The man loomed over said, “Surely you didn’t think you were the only one with prowess you possess, with powers fit for an Angel. No, not at all. In fact there is a whole family of us, son.”



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