Dark Shield
Just the story of a new hero. That's it.
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Pain. That's it. That's all that he felt. Excruciating pain.
The dark haired teenager looked up blearily into the blinding light. A voice said, "That's enough for now. We'll continue the ritual in a couple minutes."
What was going on? Then, pain again. He screamed uncontrollably. Something came over his head. Someone growled, "You! Shut up!" Then something impacted on his head. His stomach burned painfully and ferociously. A voice that was not his own said, "How dare you put me into this unworthy mortal body!" "Keep him in the scanner!", the first voice called. The teenager thrashed and struggled. "Aargh! He's flopping like a fish!" the second voice yelled
The first voice said, "The Fuhrer will not be pleased to wait for another forty years." "I know!" ,the second voice growled, "But couldn't you get some better restraints?!" "No", the first voice said, "It must be done as in the first rite." The second voice mumbled. A silky, dangerous voice said, "If he does escape, it will be on your head. Now continue, and hurry! The hour draws near." Then the teenager felt a blankness. What was going on? He felt helpless, alone, though he was not. He could help his actions. "Yes! He's been wiped! We have success!" The first voice said. He could still feel a burning. "Get ready to summon the Fuhrer", the silky voice said. However, before anyone quite knew what was happening, the teenager broke out of his restraints. Second Lieutenant Kurt Roehm screamed in terror, mainly at what he knew was going to happen to him if the teenager escaped. Dr. Ernst Hausberg's face was white with shock. Scribe Jakob Filius merely stood watching the dark haired boy make his escape. Such a shame about the other two, although the firing squad would have been preferable to their fates. Jakob shuddered inwardly. The teenager looked at his surroundings. It was a stone room with an open roof and black sky. He was lying on an crude stone altar with indecipherable writing carved on the side. A scientist, a soldier, and a bald man with a trench coat looked at him. He ran toward a stone door but the bald man raised his hand and a green barrier appeared in front of the door. The teenager snarled and dashed toward the spellcaster. The man in the lab coat and the soldier scurried out of the way. Raising his arm which suddenly turned into a straight edged soot black blade with smoldering red streaks going through, he sliced horizontally at the Scribe. The Scribe made a transparent green shield between them but the force of it knocked him back on his backside. Frantically, he raised his hand and shot a blast of energy at the charging boy. It hit him full square in the chest and he flew backward. The Scribe got to his feet and stared at the steaming and blackened chest of the boy. The boy's eyes suddenly opened wide and Jakob felt his legs being sliced out from under him. Screaming in pain he fell to the ground as the boy got to his feet. The boy glared at him and then stabbed Jakob through the chest. All the air went out from him and he tried to pull the demonic blade out of him. The boy watched as the spellcaster slowly dropped to his sides and ceased to move. Pulling the sword out, he looked at the scientist and soldier. The problem was, they weren't there anymore.
