Angels vs Demons
The night had been a complete mess for Roger.
It was supposed to be a simple guard shift over the shipments. Standard evening making sure no one tried to steal the product, the trucks came on time, etc.
It was supposed to be boring.
It was supposed to be easy.
There was a tiny hitch.
Seraph had arrived.
Roger cursed as he ran between the storage units, hiding in the shadows as he ignored the cries and shouts of his peers to drown out his footsteps. He squeezed his hand to stop the bleeding and numb the pain.
He should have known there would’ve been trouble. This so-called hero bitch had been hitting their operations one by one. Worse, the organization stood at the apex of the criminal underground; any problem that impacted them would reverberate to other factions.
Despite the risks, there was no change in guard detail.
Just a rumor.
The Sins would be on the watch.
“Shit...fuck! Where are they?” He looked around in desperation for those beastly enforcers. No one at his rank ever SAW them; the Sins were far above his pay grade. It doesn’t change the fact that his cohorts getting destroyed in large numbers.
The Boss would not allow this to continue all night!
He heard footsteps coming towards him, his feet pivoting just before the end of a katana stopped short at his neck. He backed up, switching directions before another figure holding two swords landed behind him, trapping the man.
Both figures had white masks that glowed in the dark night, though only the man holding the swords allowed his mouth to show, his lips curling into a slight smirk. “Leaving so soon? We just wanted to ask some questions.”
Roger gulped, looking between the two of them.
Seraph had arrived with ArchAngel.
“Fuck! Look, man, just let me go! I swear I don’t know a goddamn thing.”
“He’s lying.” The sword towards his neck didn’t waver as the chilled proclamation danced in the air. Seraph’s voice was a cold winter's breeze. Her mask hid her face, the embossed wings curling around the cheeks to enhance her eyes. Silver eyes were as bright as the moon and as piercing as the sword in her hand.
“Yeah, that’s not a good idea.” ArchAngel stepped closer, his blue eyes narrowing a little, but his smile didn’t waver. “Look, we know that you’re just small fry, and this is a lot more trouble than it’s worth. You shouldn’t have to deal with crap like this.” He tilted his head, lips widening to a mocking grin as he lifted one sword behind his head, shoulders slouched. “Just tell us what you know about your boss, and you’ll be free to go.”
Roger’s face went pale, cold sweat beading along his brow. “Are you crazy?! They will KILL me. They will KILL my family. No, no way, you guys are going to have to just-”
The ArchAngels’ smile faded, his eyes going cold. In an instant, he was much closer to Roger, holding one of his scimitars to his neck. “We could KILL you instead.” He ignored the glare of his partner, not caring about her disapproval on his bluff. “Give us a name.”
Logically, Roger knew that these two were not the killing type.
He didn’t think so.
However, logic does not go very far with the sharp edge of the blade pressed against his neck. “Okay, okay! I can give you a name.” As ArchAngel backed up, Roger sighed in relief, his hand searching his neck for any cuts, and gulped. “It’s-”
A club slammed down in front of ArchAngel; Seraph's warning gave him only a second to jump away.
The ground crumbled under the power of wood and metal, eviscerating human flesh. Blood gushing out of Rogers’ mouth, his spine and organs crushed and shredded by those metal spikes.
The impact was deafening. Seraph did not falter, not lose balance from the crackling concrete. However, she was on alert; both hands were on her sword; her heart was pounding as she felt the tension, the pressure weighing down on them, threatening to crush them as quickly as it did Roger.
“Well, Well. So these are our pests...” That voice was deep, guttural, a demonic sound matching the mask of the owner of such a devastating weapon. It stood up, casually on the crushed body while lifting the massive club over its shoulders. Red eyes looked over the both of them with and found them...wanting, “I was hoping for better prey.”
ArchAngel held up his swords, showing a brave face. His heart was pounding, sweat down his chin. The sudden horror of what he had witnessed was still on his mind, and he was trying to ignore the crushed body on the ground. “I think we’re more than enough.”
“Oh, really?” The demon mused before suddenly lunging, the weight of the club not slowing it down. ArchAngel gasped, taken by surprise, trying to bring his swords to block the swing of the club. It seemed he would’ve been too slow if not for the katana of Seraph. The sword was sharp enough to hold back the club from crushing her partner. ArchAngel jumped behind Seraph, taking shuddering gasps to recover from that near gruesome death.
Seraph clenched her teeth, holding her ground, silver eyes, gazing into the fiery depths of the demon. “You...must be Wrath...”
“Obviously.” Was the dry response, though a deep chuckle escaped the monstrous opponent, “I’m impressed. Perhaps you make a good meal after all.” Wrath used its other arm to aim a body blow to Seraph, but the woman was faster, barely avoiding it. ArchAngel gathered back his wits and took his chance to flip behind Wrath and slash one of his swords towards its back.
Wrath seemed to sense the attack, instincts more than well-tuned to a fight. It used the club to brace itself as it jumped and kicked ArchAngel away, landing to lift the club over its head to slam down onto him.
ArchAngel rolled away just in time, and as Seraph lunged to cut Wraths’ right side, he tried to take it from the left, slashing with both swords. Wrath gave a deep, growling laugh and blocked them both, using its club against Seraph and its left arm against ArchAngel.
His swords should have rendered cloak and flesh into shreds. Instead, the impact caused one sword to fly from his gloved hand. He held up his remaining weapon, struggling under the arm, pushing him back. How the HELL did it block that?! “What the hell are you made of?!”
Wrath laughed louder and shoved the two heroes away, not bothering to answer a trivial question. “How dull! You two will need to do much better than that against me.”
ArchAngel collided with the storage unit, his back arching against the wall as the wind was knocked out of him.
Seraph held her ground against the impact, readying her sword. Facing the demonic beast, Her voice did not waver. “We are not afraid of you! We will take you down and save this city!”
Wrath tilted its head, its laugh silenced. “Did I give you permission to ‘save’ it?” The amused tone it held throughout the fight suddenly died. In its place, a roar of hatred erupted. “I OWN THIS CITY! I WILL RIP YOU APART!” The thunderous shout cracked through the air as Wrath swung back its club towards the insolent hero.
Seraph felt her heart seize in fear. Something about that sudden anguish, the eruption of hatred, shook her to her core. She steeled herself, lunging to meet the monster, before she had to double back, avoiding a bullet that hit the ground between them.
Wrath cursed softly, looking towards a far off building, steam hissing from the mask. “Not yet...”
A towering figure jumped down to join them, this time wearing the vicious façade of Gluttony. The giant, hidden behind the veil of a boar, stepped in front of Wrath, a wall with arms spread and fists clenched together.
ArchAngel finally stood up, shaking off the pain from his collision with the storage unit, readying himself to continue, before Seraph ran to him, gripping his arm. Her voice was stern as she spoke. “We have to go.” She motioned to the figure with the boar mask. “He is formidable and...” Her eyes look towards a building in the far distance, “...they have a sniper.”
ArchAngel cursed, angry at himself before turning away, sheathing one sword and quickly grabbing the one from the ground as he ran alongside Seraph. “The police should surround them, right?”
Seraph shoved him away slightly, turning to use her sword to cut away another sniper bullet aimed at him, splitting the searing metal in half. She continued to run, her eyes focused forward on escape. “I hope so.”
Her partner didn’t react to the extraordinary feat; He was used to Seraphs’ inhuman skill. What had bothered him most was that there was someone else who can match her; someone just as fast and powerful who was not bound by moral limitations.
Wrath, having no inhibitions to contain its blood lust, shifted forward, seeing the backs of its prey slowly growing small into the night.
Gluttony’s’ hand touched its shoulder, halting its movement. Wrath growled, glaring at its companion. “You better have a good reason to end my fun.”
Before Gluttony could speak, a loud shrill voice shot through the minuscule Bluetooth hidden in their ears, “DID YOU FUCKERS SEE THAT?! THAT CUNT SLICED MY FUCKING SHOT?! HOW THE FUC-”
“... you’re...loud.” A voice, barely above a whisper, added to the choir. “Seraph...moves like...like you, Wrath.”
The shrill voice dripped with venom. “Great, another damn bitch like you!”
Wrath snarled in disappointment. “Which is why I am extraordinarily pissed of! Answer me!”
Gluttony finally took this moment to speak. “Darr- Pride had called in. Police are coming. Apparently, enough noise was made to bring several squads.”
Wrath gave a slight snort. “Fine. My prey ran away anyway.” It walked away, motioning Gluttony to follow. “Envy, meet us back at the manor; I’m sure Greed has a vehicle waiting for you.”
“Whatever, Bitch,” was the response. It was really an affectionate exchange, all things considered. Wrath smirked beneath the mask. “Sloth, we have insurance on this property, correct?”
Wrath chortled under the mask. “Then Greed will forgive me for this." Its voice deepened on the next command. “Blow it up.”