[ Angel of Mutilation ]
P R O L O G U E ;
Armageddon
xx
Death clung to every particle in the obsidian sky, in the ravaged earth, in the mutilated bodies that were hurled at the ground, clumped like fallen icicles to shattered upon the flat world below. Life was chased away like darkness at the sunrise, like a fox by a bloodhound, and blood flowed freely as a river to an ocean.
The short, cropped screams were filled with the agony of a thousand howling wolves. They lingered in the thick, smoke-filled air for a few moments, as triumphant creatures stood over them, their claws raking the sky in victory. Leaving the innocent victims lying still, eyelids frozen in place forever, never able to close again, they charged their next one with vicious pleasure.
Troops marched into the broken boulevards of the shattered city, their weapons hoisted to their shoulder and aimed to take out the offending monsters with as much effort as a butterfly moving a boulder. Their general stood atop a building, staring with weary eyes at the scene below.
General Marlin could only remember a night before this one, ten or eleven years ago, when such destruction with similar demons had been released. His father had lead the army then, and had died in that wicked battle… to leave his son in his place, scarred with the memories of haunting monsters, deep black with oppressive scarlet tattoos covering their lithe forms.
And, worst of all, he remembered the one in the middle of the army… the one who was no doubt in the middle of it now. Taking his piercing, long, cat-like ice-blue eyes from the sentry guards as they struggled to take down a smaller one of the monsters, he found himself pinpointing a central spot in the city.
His walkman buzzed; lifting it to his ear, he rasped in a voice that was drenched with urgency, he shot out, "Commander, what's happening?"
"General! We've spotted the—" Here his voice was reduced to a screech of horror, and the earpiece General Marlin had lodged near his skull began to vibrate with the shocking violence his commander was being forced to go through.
"Commander? Commander!" He shrieked, but to no avail. The general knew what had befell his young officer, and feeling very cold inside, he departed the scene, realizing that the storming voice of the late commander had delivered very important news.
The perpetrator was near.
"Shadow the Hedgehog," hissed the General, clenching his fists and lifting his weapon, "You're mine."
"Chaos… Control!"
A wave of stillness passed a few kilometers from where a heavily breathing hedgehog stood. Perspiration dripped from his brow, and he felt as though his heart – or whatever the hell was trapped in his chest like a canary in a cage – was going to take out his rib cage completely with all its mad beating.
Taking advantage of the few seconds he had to finish the current match, he leapt forward, putting all the last bit of energy he had into a hefty kick, which sent the demon flying, crumbling in a heap against a brick wall. It actually took the wall out, and thankfully the creature's malformed skull cracked along with it.
Forty down… an entire militia to go.
Swallowing with grudging weariness, he realized how hopeless this one-man battle was… but he had to do it. He had to… because he had caused it, in a way.
Straightening, he examined himself, checking for wounds he simply wasn't feeling, and found nothing serious. His black body was dusted heavily with rubble from now-gone buildings, and the scarlet of his stripes was brilliantly flaring in the darkness, like a beacon signaling to tall of the other monsters.
Three of them lurked from their hiding places, going from their weakling humanoid forms to the true persona Black Doom had made for them – crouched into a pose and body that was truly wolfen, and presented a terrific figure for those who believed in the ancient lore of werewolves.
Shadow thought they looked more like hellhounds than werewolves.
Not sure if he had any more energy within him to release a truly powerful attack, he glanced around for reinforcement. The demonic dance of the new and improved Black Aliens had destroyed the city, slain several of the inhabitants, and taken out most of the human military.
What was left, but a lone warrior fighting his brethren and regretting his every life-ending blow?
He decided his last motive was to remove the thick bands around his wrists and ankles, unleashing a power too strong for even the Ultimate Lifeform to control. Sliding out of the braces, he felt a new energy rise from within him to shroud him in a reddish mist.
The fiendish dog-monsters before him exchanged glances with brilliant yellow eyes, before they all released monstrous snarls and leapt at Shadow. It was uncanny how they matched – their ebony coats, scarlet streaks, narrowed, animalistic eyes with the cold instincts of a true killer.
He wouldn't let the fact that they all shared the same creator, Devil Doom his goddamn self, stop him from annihilating them all. Releasing a powerful ball of red energy from his wrist, shooting it like a gun fires a bullet, he watched with no emotion as the hit blew the dog's skull from its shoulder blades, leaving a lifeless canine body to slump on the ground. The others did not even flinch; they rushed him with the same speed and aggressiveness as the other one had.
"Foolish animals!" Shadow spat, kicking them both under the chins with not enough force to kill them, but enough to send them sprawling before him. Now they knelt like dogs at their master's heels, ready to please and forgive with their eyes.
Their angel of mercy was not in sight.
Instead, Shadow stood like an angel of mutilation, preparing to send them straight to the fiery pit where they'd no doubt been unleashed.
Kicking their heads apart left no pleasure to be enjoyed, but Shadow did glare with grim satisfaction at the undoing of the demonic forces within. Lightly prodding his earpiece, he growled to the only other battlers he knew of, "Rouge! Where the hell are you?"
Nothing answered him, which made him feel empty and cold with a light fear. Had the demons destroyed his only allies in a world that scorned him and was now at his bleeding throat? He tried for the other fighters, "Omega? Sonic?" In a voice that sounded slightly uncertain, and was now positive nothing could be done. Perhaps they were preoccupied… and perhaps something else had happened…
Glancing around to be sure there were no other monsters nearby, he was prepared to find the robot who was his only associate, even if all he found were the empty shells of his old friends. Sighing and kicking the rings into the rubble, he realized he had no longer use for them. It would take every drop of energy to even go halfway through this battle, and he could squeeze that energy out only with the raw power of his instincts.
Preparing to speed away, he felt cold metal on the back of his neck, and froze.
"Don't make any sudden movements, you bastard, or I'll blow your goddamn brains out." This was spoken in a steely whisper, rasping against his delicate ears like sandpaper to silk. He wanted to turn around to see who the hell was at his throat – literally – but decided to obey in order to keep his brain in his head.
"What do you want?" He asked instead, his shoulders tense with the intention to move if things became unbearable and too close to death for him.
"I want only justice. No… I want revenge. You, you damned idiot… you killed my father."
"Huh?" Shadow wanted desperately to turn around, but instead rolled his eyes and scoffed, "I never killed anyone who didn't deserve to be laid to rest. You have no idea how grave the situation is here. If you want your race to survive, I suggest—"
"No, damn you, I said don't move!" The man holding a loaded gun to his neck shrieked, pressing it harder. "You did kill my father. Not directly, I'm sure. But you brought those godforsaken black things here ten years back… and you've brought them back. Why? Damn you, why?"
Shadow was stunned.
"I didn't…" He trailed off, realizing that, in a way, yes, he did bring them here… but this pathetic excuse for a person didn't need to know that. Swallowing guiltily, he went on, "I didn't bring them here, you fool. Devil Doom did… I took the bastard down, and I thought I even killed him. But evidently he's back, and he made these new Black Arms guys. They're stronger and more numerous now… and you're preventing me from taking them down."
"You did bring them here, you liar. You… you're Devil Doom's son in a way, aren't you, you sick bastard?" He went on in a static-filled whisper, pressing the nozzle harder with the emphasis on "son". The black-and-red hedgehog blinked in surprise.
"How did you know…?"
"I'm in the military. We all knew the case… well, maybe not all. But being a general has it's advantages, doesn't it?" He laughed bitterly, feeling a bit deranged now and sounding like it, too.
Revenge was getting to his head.
He couldn't see straight…
Distantly, he heard the hedgehog growl, "So, what, did you take out all of the Mobian race? I haven't heard or seen anyone. Where's Omega? He was—"
"I didn't take out anyone of your interest… well… maybe one. I was given specific orders to get her after she betrayed our president. You may know a certain white-colored Mobian thief…?"
"No…" came the breathy reply, and he whirled around in shock to see the face of his would-be murderer.
The would-be of his title evaporated as he squeezed the trigger with such ferocity, the bullet might actually have taken off Shadow's head with some distance. In his throat, the lead flowed into his blood and leaked it onto the ground, pooling around his feet. He knelt heavily, hand around his neck, trying to grasp reality…
But reality wasn't anywhere in sight.
The General smirked and put a boot on the back of Shadow, driving him into the blood-soaked mud.
"You son. Of. A. Bitch. You basically ended the world… and I'm glad to have done the world a favor."
He laughed arrogantly, sounding deranged again, and Shadow's world blackened… permanently.
