"Oh, I'm sorry, of course you dogs wouldn't understand," Axel's voice held more mockery than a five year old's, "You're all too stupid, asslickers."
Angry growls filled the pub, rumbling deep in the throats of the surrounding werewolves. Dressed in denim, leather and corduroy, they were just as menacing in their human form than their canine. The man towering over Axel had a face as red as the drink in Axel's hand. His lips were drawn back to expose sharp-edged teeth. Like the rest of his pack, he was tense and waiting for Axel to strike first. Axel smirked crookedly and gestured to the whole bar, "Who here wants to hump my leg?"
Another werewolf behind Axel had reached his limit. He lunged for him. Axel swerved to the side and broke his bottle on the wolf's back. A pair of burly men grabbed Axel by the arms to hold him in place. More punched him in the gut, knocking the air out of him. His vision began to blur. Muffled voices yelled within the ringing of his ears. It wasn't long before Axel was thrown out of the green swinging doors, kicked in the head a few times, and left on the alley's asphalt utterly and completely alone.
He blew a kiss, "Call me!"
He grunted and propped himself up on an elbow, rubbing his scraped cheek. The redhead stumbled to his feet and looked up. Miniature sparklers vibrated against the indigo sky. A smile touched Axel's lips as he lurched home tripping over things from stray trash to his own feet. Memories sprang up every time he blinked. Blood splashed behind his eyelids. The ringing intensified. Automatically his hands flew to his head, fisting in his spikes. His eyes squeezed shut. Through clenched teeth he gasped, "Stop it."
It only seemed to get worse. He saw faces, friendly and evil alike. Whispers echoed in his head. If it were any other night, he could've blamed the wind. The droning adopted a pattern like a siren. Axel's eyes opened and he cried out, then abruptly stopped . A few blocks away, he saw with clear vision, blue and red lights flashing, all gathered at an intersection. He walked into the open street and got closer. None of the lights were moving. Voices shouted orders over the alarms. Axel approached the scene and saw no demonic activity. Perplexed, he scanned his surroundings. The source of panic was an orange and white plastic gate that cut off a cul de sac. Hanging from it was a sign that read:
"Wet Tar. Wait until 8:35 am to proceed."
Indeed, the street appeared darker than the adjacent one, and apparently wasn't allowed to be touched. Axel didn't see the big deal until he spotted the orange glare at the end of the cul de sac. To his right, firemen whose Sightless eyes looked right through him had rushed past with buckets full of water. They couldn't use the firehose; it wasn't long enough and there was no way to bring it closer. The firetrucks and police cruisers were stuck here. Axel felt a jolt in his chest.
They'll never make it.
Axel withdrew his stele from his jacket and sloppily Marked balance onto his breast, pausing only to retrace the fearless rune over his heart. The icy object hardly grazed his pocket before Axel took off in a full-on sprint. Despite the ringing and other noises forming a headache, it was as if his intoxication had melted away to let his Nephilim instincts take over. His feet hardly made a sound on the sidewalk as he shot by the firemen, already eight houses behind him.
From the mailbox, Axel could feel the scorching heat of the fire, making his eyes water. His face was highlighted in gold, his vibrant hair shining in the flickering blaze. Anything close enough was shaded in a gold hue. The whole second floor was engulfed in an inferno that reached yards into the sky. Fortunately the front door was unharmed. Axel didn't bother to check if it was unlocked or draw an opening rune. His foot connected with the wood and sent the door flying off its hinges into the house.
Axel was greeted by the living room, mundane enough. Against the far wall was a staircase. What used to be an ordinary wooden set of steps was now extraordinarily luminous. He stopped only to don his hood, then brought his sleeve up to his mouth and dove into the fire. Immediately it clung to him and he could feel it eating away his clothes. Sweat covered his skin in a shiny sheen. Axel paid it no mind. He was used to sweat.
On the second floor were four doors. That was the only outstanding feature. Fire had erased any highlighting details. Axel kicked open the first door to find a bathroom, scorched black. He tried the next: a guest bedroom without guests. The door behind him was the master bedroom. There he found two people, entangled with each other in the king sized bed. Their bodies were as still as their pulse. Cursing, Axel left them to burn together in their already fiery deathbed. He slammed through the last door and heard a cry.
The mess in the hallway and other bedrooms was a fire. This was Hell on earth. It burned the strongest and hurt to look at. Axel squinted his eyes and saw in the back of the room two younger teenagers, hiding behind an upturned glass table. They'd taken shelter by the inflammable surface though couldn't escape from the smoke. Axel got closer and froze. The boy of the pair was staring right at Axel. His blue eyes projected fear when they locked gazes. Despite the circumstances, Axel smiled at him. The boy jerked like he'd been slapped.
There was a window on the wall closest to him. He walked through the fire and didn't bother to shake it off. Bending down, he grabbed the boy and carried him to the window. His boots broke the glass with ease. Axel poked his head out and saw an in-ground pool just below them in the backyard. The boy screamed as Axel tossed him out, waiting to see him hit the water before turning to get the other one.
She was slumped against the wall, unconscious. Axel went to lift her and stopped when she yelped in her sleep. Her hands looked like they'd been through a meatgrinder. The skin had been burned off. Some chunks were missing; Axel noticed with a twinge in his stomach that bone was visible. Very gingerly he cradled her head against his chest. Holding on tight, he launched himself out the window and landed on his back in the deep end of the pool. The fire on his clothes hissed as they dissipated. Axel broke the surface in a few lunges, his arm still around the girl. He swam sideways to the ladder where the boy waited on the patio. She was set down like fine China so she wouldn't be disturbed.
"Xion!" he got to his knees beside her, and looked at Axel, "Is she okay? Where are our..."
The look in Axel's eyes cut him off. Curiosity, fury, pain and satisfaction twisted the neon green irises. In his pupils were dancing flames from the house. He went to speak and bit his tongue when Axel swerved away from them and retched. Bile and blood and beer trickled down the sides of his chin. He rasped for breath, "She's fine."
"Where are our parents? We have to go back!"
"No." Axel's body trembled, "You're coming with me."
"What? But-"
He never got to finish. Axel's hand cracked across his face and sent him to the ground. The redhead flinched at the audible thud his head made. Sighing, he used his stele to draw an iratze on Xion's forearms, just above the wrists. As her hands mended before his eyes, Axel observed thin white scars already lining her veins. What he'd thought to be some pet's claw-marks were too even and equal in length. A lance pierced Axel's heart. He paused, then drew her close to him and wrapped his arms around her, his head resting on hers. They sat there like that, Axel shaking and inhaling in short breaths, his mouth set in a grim line. Through the smell of ashes, he could detect a citrusy shampoo. It was a while before he recollected himself and grabbed the boy. Axel's body protested, his head throbbing and limbs aching, as he walked home. The firemen didn't notice any of the three and continued to douse the unoccupied residence.
