Disclaimer: I don't own WITCH; it's the property of the mighty Disney Company.
Welcome, my dear readers, to the second chapter of the Riddle Arc of "A different story"; A Gust of Hate. I hope that every one of you enjoyed the previous chapter; because this one starts exactly where the previous one left. Also, this chapter will be introducing to the plot one of the OCs that I have designed for this fanfic, and also one of the characters from the WITCH universe that I always thought of having potential but (in my opinion) not being used correctly. I hope that you all like my use of them.
PD: Thanks to Silberbullet for adding this story to her/his favorite list.
Also; like always I desire you all a pleasant read; and I ask for you to leave a review. Pretty please? *Cute wink*
WITCH
A different story
Chapter six
Riddle Arc. Part Two
A Gust of Hate
"Kill, destroy, ravage, tear, murder…"
The voice echoed in the walls of the room. Matt Olsen was now in a darkened, small room. Without windows and only one, locked and chained door, the space in it only big enough for him to fit in. it had to be small, really small; like one of those cells destined to solitary confinement. Yes, a cell. That room had been a cell, hadn't it? For something, someone, that Matt locked up there. But… but he didn't remember. He had locked someone, but then he had let that someone out. He had opened that door; and that someone had got out and put him in the small cell. It wasn't a good cell.
"Kill, destroy, ravage, tear, murder…"
The mantra didn't stop. It was as if the walls of the cell were emitting the mantra. Or maybe they were composed of the mantra. Anyway, the words repeated themselves without pause. Why were these words there; why they sounded? Someone had made Matt upset, someone had hurt him; Matt knew at least that. Who hurt him? What did that person do? Matt tried to remember, but doing it, the mantra only intensified, not letting him think.
"Kill, destroy, ravage, tear, murder…"
Yes; the mantra was distracting, but… also comforting. Matt sat in the ground of the small cell, and folding his legs and embracing them with his arms, he assumed a fetal position. Matt's body shrank and become the one of a child. The child-Matt stayed there, in his fetal position, and closed his eyes. He let the mantra to become a furious and hateful lullaby; and started to sleep. Yes… hate, that was the word. He hated someone. Who did he hate? Why did he hate? Unimportant, overrated. He had not liked hate once, hadn't he? Why? Now hate seemed… good. It seemed like the right decision. It seemed… beautiful.
"Kill, destroy, ravage, tear, murder… Hate"
Out of Matt's inner world, Shagon stretched his and Matt's body. It felt good to be in control once more; to be the one directing the movement of their arms, legs and torso. The Angel of Malice flapped his wings. They were his wings, weren't they? Nerissa had given them to him, not to Matt. Shagon chuckled, knowing that the boy had been put out of business. Now he would be the one to know what it's like being trapped inside that ridiculous room, unable to move, unable to think. Unable to see anything but the residual pieces of the thoughts of the boy that he shared a body with. In those dark times, Shagon thought that he was better when he was just an unanimated emotion. At least, some of the residuals that he caught were part of thoughts that revolved themselves around Will. And speaking of Will…
"How are you here?!" shouted to the Angel of Malice the Keeper of the Hearth. "Matt destroyed you!"
Shagon kept silence for a little moment, and then chuckled again. "Yes, good luck destroying one of the basic emotions of a human being. I cannot be destroyed; Will, my dear. I'm as part of Matt as are his selflessness and goodness. He just weakened me, crippled me. But now I'm back, I'm rested, and I'm prepared to give all of you" Shagon eyed the Guardians, not only his eyes, but his whole figure flashing in green lighting "the beatdown of your lives for HELPING THAT LITTLE WIMP INTO PUTTING ME OUT OF CHARGE OF THIS BODY!"
"You know, sometimes I forget how incredibly cheesy this guy was" said Irma sarcastically, unleashing a torrent of water towards Shagon. The Angel of Malice shot one of his greenish eye beams at it; evaporating the water before a single drop touched him. Irma stared dumbfounded at the winged figure; that had now his arms folded above his chest.
"Is that all you got? I'm disappointed" mocked Shagon; and fired another eye beam in the direction of the girls; who, not been able to block it, just evaded it.
"Try to not forget that he was pretty strong too" retorted Cornelia to the Water Guardian, receiving a raspberry as an answer.
"Try to leave that for later, you two!" shouted Will "focus in Shagon, we have to do something to free Matt!"
Taranee, knowing that Shagon was quite more resistant that any human being and thus no worried anymore for burning him to death; conjured an enormous ball of fire that was almost bigger than herself and threw it in the corrupted Earth Regent's direction. Instead of doing what the girls did and try to avoid the attack; or trying to block it with his beam eyes like he did with Irma's blast of water; Shagon raised his hands and, imbuing them with power he blocked the giant flame sphere with them. Shagon struggled a little, but using not only in the power that Matt's hate was providing, but also the power that was bestowed upon him as Regent of Earth; the Angel of Malice ended shattering the giant fire ball into tiny flames that faded away in the wind. "Interesting…" whispered the winged demon.
Shagon looked at his hands, and making fists of them, he channeled the whole capability of his power; mixing hate and the power of light that was inside him; and with a scream, he sent a wave of greenish energy across the sky.
"Oh crap" said Will as the wave of energy smashed with her and the other four girls; pushing them backwards in the sky, and severally hurting them all. "Augh… everyone is okay?" asked the leader of the team.
"I have been better…" said Taranee between her teeth. She then looked at Shagon that was still floating in the air.
"One thing is being strong; but I don't recall him being able to tank one of your best moves like that!" said to her Irma.
"Shagon gets stronger if you hate him, hasn't he Will? Maybe someone hates him?" asked Hay Lin to the redhead.
Will snapped to this information. Did someone hate the monster at that moment? She had very good reasons to do so, but… but that was also Matt, and she couldn't hate him…
"I doubt that's the case" explained Taranee. "I think that he is using his Regent powers. It shouldn't be surprising that Shagon can do whatever Matt can. I suppose that Lillian didn't specify that only one personality could access it:"
Cornelia realized what did that means. "So, we are actually fighting with one third of a Hearth… which means that is far individually stronger than any of us… and even if we defeat him, the only one who could depower him is my sister"
"More or less, that's the situation" confirmed Taranee.
"What do we do, Will?" asked Hay Lin to the Keeper of the Hearth.
The redhead didn't know. If they attacked Shagon together and continuously, she knew that they could win; Make a fake diversion using herself; bath him in Irma's water; then use Cornelia as the real diversion, then zap him; and then, combining Hay Lin's and Taranee's elements… No! What was she thinking, that was Matt. Inside it was Matt… right?
"Eh… girls? I think that he is going to do something" said Taranee to the group; making the five Guardians to pay attention to Shagon.
Ignorant to the Guardian's plans to defeat him, Shagon was admiring the enormous amount of energy that his body was possessing. It wasn't only the power that little runt that Cornelia had as a little sister had bestowed upon his and Matt's body, but the hate that Matt was feeling and his own hate were making him stronger minute by minute. Now, to prove the real limit to that strength…
Shagon raised his hands to the skies, and using his power, he began to distort the weather; but in a more massive manner that the Guardians had done to defeat Sylva. The wind started to blew stronger, the skies darkening in black clouds. Then, a powerful blast of green lighting shot from his hands to the clouds, charging them. "Let's see you all resisting this!" said the Angel of Malice, making the lighting that he had charged in the cloud came down as an enormous energy strike.
"Irma, cover us!" shouted Will to her companion, hoping that a shield of water could block the green lighting. Irma raised a gigantic bubble; but albeit softened the strike, it didn't bloke it completely. The lightning stroke the Guardians, this time sending the majority of them to the ground. Only Will and Cornelia remained in the air, although they were pretty close to the ground of the floor.
"Agh… is like he is getting stronger of something…" started Cornelia, just to be punched by Shagon, who had come to their side at an astonishing speed; and send to the floor to.
Will tried to go to her rescue. But Shagon moved at what only could be called super-speed, and graved her by the throat, raising her in the air with his strength; making her gasp. He Angel of Malice looked delighted. "Just to inform you, I could stop all of this if you give me a kiss, Will"
Will scolded at the corrupted Earth Regent. "I will rather die than kissing you" said the redhead to the winged demon. It only made him chuckle again.
"You know that you have kissed me a lot of times, right?"
"You are not Matt!"
Shagon chuckled again. If he made again that horrible sound again, Will was certain that she'll kick him in the nuts. "I'm Matt, Will. Or at least a part of him" said Shagon to the redhead. "The part of him that hates people that hurts others and that wants them dead. The part of him that blames himself for not being able to protect the only family he had left. The part of him that fantasies about you being warped up naked in his room; not being able to move meanwhile he uses you"
That last line left Will completely shocked. "What?" said weakly the Keeper of the Hearth.
"What? You think that walking in front of an hormonal teenager in nothing more than a swimsuit, or in a sexier Guardian form, wasn't going to ignite little Matt's passions? Oh, they did ignite. But you see, the boy is such a pussy that he'll never admit it. He'll never go and make the necessary choices. That's why I'm here. I'm here because I'm stronger than him, because I can avenge who he cannot; I'm here because I'm better than him. And better for you too"
Shagon brought Will's face closer to his; in an attempt to steal a kiss from her. Will resisted, but she was too much shocked. Matt couldn't have that kind of thoughts, could he?
A stream of wind stroke then Shagon, forcing him to free Will and rise again to the skies. Again in her feet, the other four girls stood firmly in their combat positions, each one of them holding their elements in their palms.
"Don't you dare to touch her, you creep!" shouted Cornelia to the Angel of Malice.
"Yeah, keep your bad touch away from Will!" accompanied Hay Lin to the blonde's retort.
"You think that you can just show up and defeat our whole team?! We own you, motherfucker!" shouted Irma.
"Just who do you think we are?!" was then Taranee's sentence.
They were right. That wasn't the time to doubt oneself and being wrapped in her weaknesses. "We" started Will, charging a bolt like her companions "ARE WICTH!"
Then each one of the quintet of girls shot a powerful blast at Shagon. The Angel of Malice raised another powerful wave of energy and unleashing it, he let it collide with the girls attack. The five elements collided with the stream of greenish lightning and; for about several minutes, the two attacks equaled each other. Then the mix of the five elements started to beat the green light. Little by little, Shagon's attack started to lose ground; and the Guardian's attack to take it.
"No, I won't be caged again, I won't!" shouted the corrupted Earth Regent. Shagon added to his wave his eye beams; making his attack to match the one of the Guardians again.
The girls didn't fall back either. They put more energy in their attack. Shit, why was Shagon so powerful? Or rather, why each one of them felt so weak in comparison with other times?
The two attacks barreled each other until; unable to resist the colliding energies, the point where the two beams were clashing started to glow in a white light; and exploded, sending both parties across the sky, also completely destroying the building over where they were fighting.
While Shagon ended crashing with one of the other buildings that composed the district; breaking one of the walls and ending inside it; the Guardians found themselves falling to the ground… until a golden sphere caught them.
Cornelia looked weakly bellow and smiled. "Thank you, cat" said her.
Under the Guardians, creating the golden sphere with his magic was Napoleon, his right hand glowing in a golden light, appointing to the quintet of magical girls.
"Are you all right?" asked the humanoid feline; making the sphere descend to the ground and realizing the Guardians.
Irma cracked her neck. "That was one hell of a boom"
Hay Lin sat herself in the ground, tired to even fly anymore. "Ouch… I want my bed…"
"What the hell was that? How did Shagon…?" started to ask Cornelia; wanting an answer to the reappearance of the fallen Knight of Destruction; but Taranee interrupted her.
Will had separated from the group and, passing Napoleon, she made her way until reaching Mr. Huggles, who was behind the humanoid feline, holding something in his arms. Will had been the only one noticing it; it looked rather small in comparison with the massive humanoid animal. It was a body.
"Is… is he…?" asked the redhead.
"Dead; I'm sorry" answered sadly Napoleon.
Upon noticed of whom the Regent was speaking about; the other four Guardians looked at the body in Mr. Huggles' arms. And realized whose body was.
"Is that… Mr. Olsen?" asked a shocked Irma. Hay Lin put her hands over her mouth, covering a gasp of horror. Both Taranee and Cornelia felt dead silent. Will reached the corpse; while Mr. Huggles got to his knees and dropped the departed old man in the ground solemnly and carefully.
Will kneeled too. Before she and the others went to encounter Sylva, she hadn't had a good look upon the body of the man; due to Matt holding him. Now that she was the one looking him in a first plane, she noticed how incredibly crippled he was now. One thing was the incredibly bad situation his hands were, the fingers completely twisted and soaked in blood. But the face of the poor old man… it was completely wasted, parts of his skull being seen. And still; the corpse released a sensation of peace and tranquility that contrasted with the state of his body. Even after the nightmare he had been in; Hebert Olsen had died happy.
"See, I told you, Will, my dear" said a voice from the sky.
Both Guardians and Regents looked up to see Shagon again. His mask had several cracks in it; and his wings and body were a little burned. Still, the wounds were closing already, his power still increasing, his inner hate still burning.
"That Matt is too weak to avenge his grandfather. That Matt was too weak to protect him. This is truth, he doesn't think otherwise" Shagon chuckled. "The reason I'm this strong now is because I don't need others' hate to become stronger. The little boy hates himself enough to have me running for decades. Now, just imagine how he would felt if I killed his friends; let's not speak about of hurting his beloved Wilhelmina…"
Four of the Guardians looked up defiantly, but Will still maintained her sight focused in the corpse of Mr. Olsen. Napoleon and Mr. Huggles made their ways and put themselves in front of the Guardians. Mr. Huggles growled angrily at the Angel of Malice.
Seeing ten this, Shagon sighed. "But I'm not fool enough to try and fight you five again with those two added to the mix" said the corrupted Earth Regent signaling to the two humanoid animals. "So, I think that now some 'goodbyes' must be imposed."
"Do you really think that we will let you go?" asked Napoleon, stretching his claws and tensing his muscles. If he jumped with all his might, could he be able to get to his corrupted companion? It was worth a try.
"Oh, well you could try fighting me again, or… you could go for the man you came here for" said the Angel of Malice in his usual petulant tone.
Taranee gasped in surprise. "Sylva…" the mercenary was nowhere to see.
"I suppose that he escaped during our little roughhouse" continued Shagon.
"And whose fault is that, eh? You say that Matt cannot avenge his people, but you have let that sick bastard go away!" shouted Irma to the winged demon.
"True… I will give you that Irma; you turn out to be more intelligent than I thought. I'll have to fix it" and with that phrase, Shagon raised his arms in fists, and in a flash as green as his lightning based powers, he disappeared, leaving a very confused Guardians.
"Did he just teleport himself?" asked a socked Cornelia. Since when did Shagon knew how to do that?
"Did he just call me stupid?" said then an offended Irma, just to get a glare for every other member of their team sans Will. "Sorry" apologized the Water Guardian.
Speaking of Will, she was still clutching the corpse of Mr. Olsen. Cornelia walked towards her and put a hand on her shoulder. "Will, we'll have to decide… are we going after Shagon, or after Sylva? Or…?" Cornelia noted how something was moving under her hand. Will was shaking, trembling. Then the Earth Guardian noted what was happening. Her leader was crying. In silence, but crying.
"Will, if you…" started Cornelia, just for Will to stop sobbing and stand up.
Wiping her tears away with one hand, the leader of WITCH said "We will track Sylva. It'll be easier than to locate Shagon, who can (somehow) teleport. If we find Sylva, we will find Shagon; I suppose that he's his objective…"
"I wouldn't mind if we let Mr. Hate with that glasses-wearing asshole a few minutes…" commented Irma to her leader's plan, but her commentary was unnoticed.
"We will split like we did in the port and start looking for either of them, but preferably Sylva."
"I don't think that he will be able to escape very far given his injuries" added Taranee to the conversation.
"That's all; let's do it. Also, it will be good to put Mr. Olsen…" said Will. Mr. Huggles made a gesture to the Keeper, indicating that he would stay and take care of the body. Matt was the creature's closest friend, after all. Also, it was possible that one part of him didn't want to harm Matt; independently of who was in charge of his body.
"Thank you" said Will to the humanoid dormouse. The group separated again, only that this time Will was accompanying Taranee in place of Mr. Huggles. There would be time later to cry for their losses. Now it was time to focus.
Breathe. Count to three. Relax. Count to three. Concentrate. Count to three.
Save Matt.
Unbeknown to the whole group; two figures had been watching the development of the Guardian's fights; both against human and demon. It would be important mentioning how, even if both of them took interest in the situation, neither of them knew the existence of the other, and how and why they were looking at the clashes were very different.
The first figure was of a man in his late seventies; but that didn't show it. Even at his age, he could easily pass for a man twenty years younger, very few wrinkles in his face. His skin white, his eyes of a fiery almond color and not a single hair on his head (but some ones could say that compensated with his eyebrows); dressed in a simple pair of khaki corduroy trousers and a reddish brown sweater; this man's name was Theodore Riddle, currently dedicated to both psychology and the extermination of everything that could be considered magical.
Sitting at a small desk in his office, only a little computer and a chessboard over it; he meditated over the images that a little flying drone that he left in Heatherfield had sent to him. He really never had Raphael's mental sanity in a very high esteem, but his late actions were bordering in megalomania. Albeit he was able to discern a very deep and strong case of psychopathy in the mercenary when he enlisted him as his lackey; he judged it as a necessary problem in order to attain his goals. And it had been gone smoothly; Sylva taking care of everything that Riddle ordered him to do. Then came the incident on the mall; and Riddle just rationalized it. Sure, the loss of innocent human lives was something that couldn't be more away from his goal, but the data recorded about the so-called Guardians, those things, was worth of the sacrifice of those men and women. If he really triumphed, they would be remembered as heroes.
But this time Sylva had cross the line. Not only he had disobeyed his direct orders; but he had attacked them in solitary; and also apparently killed another innocent human being. And, of top of it, not only he had acted like a fool, but also lost (and quite pathetically) and thanks to him, there was another monstrosity running around in the form of the teen Matt Olsen, although Riddle doubted that the current winged human was still the teenager.
Sighing, Riddle took a cell phone from his pocket and called someone. The ringtone sounded a couple of times before another man answered- "Victor?" said Riddle. "Yes, it's me. Listen, I won't need for you and Sephiria to take at the airport… No, listen, I will be in the town before you two, I have something to take care about… Yes, it's Sylva… Yes, I know what your wife will say. Well, I will see you at the mansion when you two arrive. Okay, have a nice day you too."
Riddle hanged up the call and put the cell phone back to its place. He then took one of the black knights of his chess set and, holding it in his hand, he made it levitate with some sort of telekinetic force, and then proceeded to crush it. "I hate doing this" said then Riddle, "but what have to be done, has to be done". And then the office flashed in green thanks to the particular color of the teleportation spells.
The second figure watching the clash was already in Heatherfield. Actually, he had been watching the battle not far away from it happened. His one was also an elderly man, almost in his middle eighties, but in contrast to Riddle, he couldn't hide his age, albeit his body had a very good built for someone of his years. The man sported a very thick grayish beard, and his head was decorated by a white mane; albeit in one moment of his life it had been as golden as the wheat spikes of the fields of his house. His name was Ricardo Herbosa; and now was wrapped in a long black cloak, his left hand in his pocket and his right producing a series of black runes in the air. It was the form of a spell designated to make contact. When it was ended, Ricardo made his intentions clear. "I'm going to step in"
"Are you crazy, boy?" sounded from the construct of runes the voice of an angered woman "they could be watching!"
"If they are watching, they had been doing it from her entire live. I will not tolerate another causality to play to our disadvantage, mujer."
In a molested tone, the voice of the woman answered her interlocutor. "Do what it takes. But procure not to be seen by the Guardians, or worse, by Kandrakar"
"Did I ever fail in that matter?" asked Ricardo with a cocky grin, just for the construct of runes to fade away with the aid of an angry blow of the wind, which also made Ricardo flinch. Cold weather wasn't the best for his constitution. He had always been more accustomed to the heat of his home.
Stretching his old body, Ricardo sighed and produced another set of black runes, that then sparkled and sent a purple colored electrical wave over the air; that a first was like a purple gas, but then faded away, melting with the sky. Then a little greenish line appeared before Ricardo's eyes, and started to row in a certain direction. Ricardo murmured a series of words, and putting his palms together, Ricardo's feet rise in the air. The man in the black coat started to levitate and follow the green line. Cracking his neck while floating through the skies of Heatherfield, the elder smiled. It had been various years since his last good fight.
Running through the streets of the outskirts of Heatherfield, Raphael Sylva held his right set of ribs with his left hand, while his right one was tightly gripping around the mercenary's sniper rifle; the dammed childlike smile still in his face. It was hard moving through the snow of the street with the body injured like that, and without glasses his vision was nothing to be proud of, even if he could still aim from a distance. The mercenary couldn't restrain his joy inside of him. The adrenaline running so fast within his bloodstream that he felt like he could fight for months.
Bad news? He had lost the battle, and if that thing that looked a lot like Matt Olsen hadn't intervened, he could be captured. Good news? First of all, that was the most stimulating battle of his live! Miss Hale had hit him with a rock; three of the girls had created a storm! If it wasn't for Miss Cook's fears and doubts they could have dominated him! Shame that she didn't fire, it could have been better… But, second good new, he was still alive! So, he only had to heal his injuries, reunite with the boss and the others, and he would be able to fight a rematch with them all. The only thing that he needed was to find a telephone and call and ambulance, then…
"Raphael" a voice interrupted both Sylva's thoughts and run. Sylva turned around. He knew that voice.
"Boss?" asked the mercenary; looking now at Theodore Riddle, that stood in the middle of the snowed street like he had just appeared out of nowhere, which actually he did. "What are you doing here? How are you here?" asked again the blond man; not hiding his surprise.
"I teleported from my other location" answered the bald man.
"Well, if you could be so gentle and lend a hand, I would be grateful, sir" said Sylva trying to get close to his employer. "Thanks for coming, though. It's not easy to find such a caring boss…"
"I think you are mistaken, Raphael" said Riddle, arms folded at his back, looking oddly at his employee. "I'm not here to save you; I didn't teleport here to rescue you. Your actions forced me to use a spell, Raphael. Also, you have disobeyed me, acted in your own accord; and in a quite disorganized manner. But above all else you have. Told those things. About. Me." Riddle said, remarking each word. Even if his expression was serene, his voice denoted how pissed he was.
Sylva frowned at this. He hadn't told the girls about him… No, wait… He did! Right before starting to fight the group. "Eh… sorry?" said Sylva with a stupid grin.
"You better be, Raphael. You even told them my name, even if hidden in a lame pun. Now, they are following you, and if they find you, they will get a lot of clues about me and my intentions."
Sylva knew where this was going. Doing a fast movement with his hand, he raised his sniper rifle and aimed at Riddle. But when he was going to pull the trigger, an invisible force held him, completely restraining his movements. Riddle had now one of his hands in the air, holding it in Sylva's direction. Was him producing that force?
"You understand, don't you Raphael?" Riddle got closer, and the grip on Sylva's body intensified, making him kneel. Riddle put his other hand over Sylva's forehead and face. "I cannot let them to follow those clues to me" said the bald man.
What followed weren't screams or any other sound. Just silence. Neither of the two men said anything, Riddle concentrated, Sylva scared for real in the first time of his life. Sylva's eyes started to move quickly from one side to another, his pupils getting smaller and smaller. Riddle made himself into the mercenary's mind, and like a worm, started to walk the insides of the blond man's psyche.
Little by little, the worm started to prey onto memories and thoughts inside Sylva's mind. Shattering them, ravaging them. Sylva's eyeballs stop moving so recklessly, and started to go slower and slower, until they became dull and lifeless. The only word that could leave Sylva's mouth by that moment was just one. "Why?"
"Why?" asked back Riddle. "Because Raphael, you aren't of more use to me. You are a loose end, and those must be eliminated. If you are asking why I am carrying this entire plan" continued Riddle, finishing also the mutilation of his ex-employee's mind "is because I hate them, Raphael. I hate those five things. I hate what they are; I hate that they think that they aren't what they are… and I hate what they represent." Riddle made a pause and, retiring his hand from his interlocutor's head, he let Sylva to fall completely into the snowed ground, spittle coming down from his mouth, his body contorted into a fetal position. "That's why, Raphael. You were a good employee, though. When everything ends, I will have you back, I promise. For the moment…" Riddle raised his head and stared onto the horizon. Those five and their companions would likely be there in a few minutes. Preparing his hands with another teleportation spell, Riddle said his farewell to the man "have pleasant dreams, Raphael. We will meet again…" the green light flashed, and Riddle was gone leaving only his words behind.
"In a world without magic"
Just like one left the outskirts via teleportation, another one arrived, albeit it was not in the destination he wanted to be. Shagon waved his wings violently. Five teleportations, and yet no sight of the man he was looking for! This was incredibly frustrating!
"Sylva! Where are you?!" said the Angel of Malice in a playful tone. "I promise to not harm you!" Shagon stared into the nothingness. He grew even more infuriated. "Dam it! Where are you hiding?!" shouted the corrupted Earth Regent.
"Maybe the reason he cannot be found is because you are shouting like a madman, chico" said then the voice of an elderly man. Shagon looked up and, much to his surprise, saw an old man wrapped in a black cloak… floating in the air, arms folded over his chest. "You should try, how do you say, been stealthy" said the man.
Shagon stared to the floating old man. He hadn't time for this, so he clasped his hands and tried to teleport. But he couldn't. The old man smiled to him. "I put a spell over this area that blocks teleportations that go outside, but not inside. It's the best form of getting hold of a tricky kiddo like you, chico."
Shagon scolded to the old man. "Who are you?" asked the Angel of Malice. He was in no time for this. He had to find Sylva and kill him. He couldn't let Matt to tranquilize and stop hating. If Shagon stained his hands in blood, Matt would never resurface again.
"The name is Ricardo. Ricardo Herbosa." The old man bowed. "You really made a mess to your friends, didn't you kiddo? You know…" Ricardo raised his head from the bow and clacked his neck again, making sure that his vertebra didn't play a trick on him, but also to make his intentions clear "I never liked abusive children." Ricardo clenched his fist, and a dark aura appeared around them, a purple-like energy making his eyes glow. The elder eyed the demon, a serious look taking over his face.
Shagon, not seeing another gateway that didn't involve fighting, waved his wings and rose to the same altitude the old man was. The demon eyed the man and, much like his opponent, made his hands and eyes glow in energy; albeit Shagon's were flashing in green and in a much more violent way.
"I don't like repeating myself, old man" said the Angel of Malice, taking in a fighting position. "And hate is strong. So tell me… who are you and what are you doing here?"
Ricardo made one of his eyebrows raise. Was this boy trying to sound intimidating? The elder made sure that a very sound laughter didn't escape from his mouth. Instead, he only smirked. "Let's make a deal here. I'll tell you if you are able to lay a hit on me; niño" the last word was depreciative, and even if Shagon couldn't understand it, he knew that it was meant to insult him.
Shagon snarled. "Fine by me; your life is as good as any other." And with a hateful roar, the corrupted Regent of Earth charged to his adversary, who just waited patiently, a life of struggles paying off in that matter.
Away from the starting battle, Taranee Cook and Will Vandom were able to found something, or more precisely, someone. Laying in the snow, the pair had been able to locate Raphael Sylva, albeit he was in a much worse state that they had predicted.
The first thing that Will did was to make Taranee to advise the others via telepathy. In a few minutes, the five Guardians and the Regent Napoleon were there, each one of them staring to the unconscious body of Raphael Sylva.
"Is he dead?" asked Hay Lin.
Taranee negated with her head. "No, he's unconscious, probably from his wounds and the effort. Still, I cannot get inside his mind for some reason. It's usually easier with unconscious people" said the Fire Guardian.
"Well, at least we get to him before Shagon did" said Cornelia. "That has to count, doesn't it?"
Irma folded her arms and made a displeased face. "Count for you…"
"Enough" said Will. "I think it's obvious that we had won to this man. Napoleon, could you please make sure that he doesn't escape before we found Matt?"
The humanoid cat nodded. "I will bring him where Huggles is. I will not let him escape, I promise. And if Shagon shows up, we two should be enough to subdue him"
"Thanks" said Will, and the Earth Regent jumped straight into the air, covering an enormous distance in a single bound.
"Whoa, he really jumps well" said Hay Lin to nowhere in particular.
Ignoring the asian girl's commentary, Will directed herself to her team. "Now, I think that, before going after Matt (which we be doing the five together, by the way) I think that we should talk about…"
"About why our powers suck now?" said Irma. "Sorry, but even I can see that we aren't as strong as we should be."
"Irma is right. And it's not only with Shagon today. It also was with that thing at the mall. We should have been able to vaporize it from the beginning, but we couldn't. And we five together should have been stronger than Shagon by a mille, but we weren't" explained Taranee.
"So, either we are becoming weaker or something is weakening us" said then Cornelia.
"It could be the second option. Just like the static sound with my Quintessence, it could be something similar with all of us" contributed Will. "But we cannot fight properly like this. In the moment we end this thing, we are going to contact Kandrakar immediately and let them take care of Sylva and also let us know if something is wrong with our powers."
Taranee was surprised by that remark. "Wait, are we going to let Kandrakar take Sylva? Wouldn't he have to pay for his crimes here?"
"And what do we tell them? Hey, hello there, we are a bunch of magical girl warriors and we have defeated this crazy psycho because he sent a giant robot to attack us at the mall. Yeah, they'll surely buy that" said Irma sarcastically, getting a little scold from Taranee. But the Fire Guardian knew that her friend was right.
"It will be good to let Kandrakar take care of him" said then Cornelia. "I suppose that they are more suited for imprisoning this type of people than anybody else."
Taranee relaxed herself. Cornelia and Irma were right, this was the better decision.
"Okay, now we should be focusing in finding Matt" said Will. "Not splitting up, not acting in solitary. We work together, and this time we knock him down."
Every member of the team nodded, everyone's mind now focusing in the current task. The quintet took air, and flying, started to search for the Angel of Malice. The important question now was; where was he?
The answer to that question was simple. Matt, or rather Shagon, was in the middle of a battle in midair against an eighty-something man… and he was losing. Quite ridiculously, actually.
"WHY CAN'T I HIT YOU?!" shouted frustrated the Angel of Malice. It didn't matter what he threw at the man. A punch or a kick was blocked by a dark purple barrier that raised itself automatically upon any attack. If he threw one of his eye beams, the man just raised his palms and, sprouting a bunch of black runes, he curved the beam around him and made it to go back and hit Shagon. He then tried to fly into some security distance. But that proved as a bad idea too.
Raising his right hand and extending only his index and middle finger, Ricardo made a series of quick movements with his arm, and a bunch of dark runes appeared again, this time forming a circle around Shagon. "Because you are only an amateur. You have power, but you lack the use of the specific formulas necessary to defeat someone as me, like for example…" said Ricardo, and his eyes flashed with purple energy. "Babel." As he spoke that word, the runes around Shagon sparkled violently, and a pillar of black light enveloped the Angel of Malice, harming him considerably and knocking him on the snowed pavement.
Shagon get to his feet again, but he noted that his right wing was severally wounded. He couldn't fly anymore. As knowing this fact, Ricardo descended nicely to the ground, his feet touching it graciously. The old man spoke. "And also, yes niño, hate is strong. But it's also reckless, impulsive, stubborn and very uncontrollable. You have more power than I have ever dreamed, but… You are like an explosion, attacking in every direction, but without knowing where your enemy is, or if your attack would impact. I'm more like a bullet, precise and swift." Ricardo folded his arms again.
"You pathetic…" said Shagon.
"I'm the pathetic one, niño? You are the one almost fainting in the snow, while I'm here, fresh and unharmed. You are the one losing by a mille. It shouldn't be necessary to remember you that if you are not able to lay a low on me, you would lose the bet. Isn't that right, niño?"
Shagon hissed. He was losing. He! It was preposterous. He was fighting the five Guardians of Kandrakar not even moments ago, and holding his own, no less! But now here he was, losing to a decrepit and aged geezer… Decrepit and old… Shagon realized something, a plan popping on his malicious mind.
"You are a fraud, old man" said Shagon, hoping that the taunt could serve as a bait for the elderly man. It worked.
Ricardo raised an eyebrow. "Excuse you? In what I'm a fraud?"
"You are saying that I cannot hit you; that you are precise and swift, but I bet that, if we just fight with our fist, I would defeat you"
Ricardo smiled and, taking his coat of, he made clear that he had accepted Shagon's challenge. The Angel of Malice chuckled delighted. "You craved your own gave, old man" thought the demon, and using his enhanced speed, he dashed towards the old man, this time not seeing a barrier appearing. He threw his right fist in Ricardo's direction, aiming to hit him, and pierce his body.
It didn't work.
Shagon hit something, but it was hard and stif; it almost felt like punching granite. Shagon hissed in paid and held his hand, which had now various bones cracked and was starting to regenerate. Looking at Ricardo, Shagon saw how runes very similar that the ones that he used to attack him coated now the old man's body. Little by little, the runes starting to expand, until the hole skin of Ricardo was pitch black, only his eyes, and his white beard and mane were still the same color. Without the coat, he sport only a blue pullover and a pair of black trousers. It made him look… inhuman.
"What the…?" said a puzzled Shagon, left without words for the first time in his short life.
"This is called Hierro; is a spell that makes me more resilient in hand to hand combat… What?" Ricardo looked at the speechless Shagon. "You really think that I would go into a fist fight against a youngster without an ace up my sleeve?"
"But now we just agreed…"
"I lied, niño" answered Ricardo with a cocky smile.
"I WILL MURDER YOU, YOU DECREPIT MEXICAN…" started Shagon, just to get a punch right into his stomach that sent him flying across the street.
"First of all, niño" started Ricardo, cracking his knuckles. "It wouldn't be bad to learn to show some respect and manners for your elders. Second…" Ricardo made an angry scowl, and getting closer to Shagon, he held him up by the throat and punched him again in the stomach, sending the Angel of Malice again to his knees. Then, Ricardo held his hands together in a grip, raising his arms over the corrupted Earth Regent; and then made them descend over him with all his might, arms tensed with all the strength his enchanted old body was capable of. "YO SOY DE ESPAÑA!"
The hit left a crater under Shagon's body; and an unconscious Angel of Malice inside it. The whole pavement was completely cracked. The skin of Ricardo returned to normal little by little. First the runes, and then nothing but his old skin. The old man felt to his knees and coughed harshly. Dam, he had used Hierro for too long. His body wasn't as strong and resistant as it was in his youth. He couldn't risk to use it for too long, it was bad for his hearth… that woman had repeated it to him to satiety.
"Chist… I got lucky that this boy was just tired from his previous battle… man, age surely get's to my head sometimes…" thought the elder with a displeased look. Everything was easier with twenty or thirty fewer years in his back… but it was not time for complacency and self-pity. He had something else to do with that boy, fortunately the next step only required force of mind and will instead of force of body, and he had enough of the first two.
Putting his wrinkled hands around the boy's head, he started to chant. It wasn't long before a series of more elaborated runes coated Shagon's body and let Ricardo to enter the boy's inner world.
"Kill, destroy, ravage, tear, murder… Hate"
The mantra still echoed from the walls of the small cell. Little child-Matt was still in his fetal position, letting the embrace of hate to take care of him, to sang to him as a lullaby. It felt good to let it sang and sleep inside its embrace. Hate wasn't that bad… It was better than the other option.
"Is that so?" said then a calm and kind voice. Then someone knocked at the door of the cell, and the chains that held it fell to the ground. Child-Matt shivered in fear. Who was trying to put an end to his lullaby; to his slumber? No, he liked it here…
Another knock in the door, and this time it opened slowly, letting the light of the exterior to get inside the room. Child-Matt rubbed his eyes at the blinding that came from it. When child-Matt looked again, he saw someone at the door, projecting a shadow over him. It was the figure of old Ricardo Herbosa, in his blue pullover, arms folded, as per usual. He then smiled to the little boy, and lend him a hand. "Would you be kind enough to join me?" asked the elder man. The mantra and the lullaby interrupted, child-Matt didn't know how to proceed, and took the ld man's hand, exiting the cell.
Walking through what appeared to be a strange city, with innumerable buildings and strange and numerous streets that went in every direction; child-Matt went alongside Ricardo, hands held together. Matt felt fairly depressed. Why was this man keeping him out of his lullaby? Then the pair stopped and, using his free hand, Ricardo signaled something, or rather, someone.
"Look, little man, someone is here to see you" said Ricardo.
Child-Matt raised his head; and a happy simile adorned his face. He dashed forwards the figure, arms wide open. "Grandpa!" shouted happily child-Matt.
There was him, Herbert Olsen, or more likely; the part of Herbert Olsen that Matt had treasured over the years and that now had a home in the boy's memory. The old man that had cared and encouraged him, who had supported him, loved him.
They hugged each other, and Herbert took little Matt in his arms and made him fly like a plane. After a few minutes, although, the old man put the little man in the ground and, kissing him in the cheek and ruffling his hair, he waved and marched away, and at one moment, Herbert Olsen transformed into a white cloud and parted to the skies, leaving a saddened Matt in the ground. "No! Grandpa, come back!"
Little Matt got to his knees, hugged himself and started crying. Then, a dark greenish mist agglomerated around him. The mist took the form of a winged feral creature, his face a twist of resentment and anger.
"See?" hissed the mist creature. "The world is cruel to you; it takes everything that you love and care about. Weren't you better in that room? If the world is cruel… then you just have to hate it. Hate everyone… because no one will care or love you…"
The creature lend a hand to little Matt. And the boy reached for it… but a wrinkled hand stopped him. "Are you really sure of that?" said Ricardo, impending the two hands to reach. "Have another look at the skies."
The mist creature twirled and twisted, hissing. "You are in my way, old man. Hate is inevitable, unstoppable. You will not trap me again."
Ricardo chuckled. "I have no intention of trapping you, cosa. But I recommend you to take a look at the skies too."
The mist creature followed the advice. And looking up, both it and little Matt saw an incredible spectacle in the skies. The ceiling of Matt's inner world was decorated by a moving white mist that formed a set of figures. Of course, Herbert was there. But he wasn't alone. His late son, a man that looked a lot like an older Matt (albeit his hair was way clearer than the one of the teenager) and that had answered to the name Paul, appeared with him. Alongside him was a woman with the same black bluish hair as Matt, and whose face was quite similar to the one of the boy.
Matt recognized them. Those were his parents, both dead in a car crash. "Oh, you mother and father" said the mist creature. "Those were taking from you too, weren't they?"
Ricardo put his fingers over his lips, indicating the being to shut up. "Keep silence, cosa. You are missing the big picture." The mist creature hissed at the old man, but kept watching the pictures in the skies. They weren't showing something depressing or threatening.
The images were of a pair of parents playing with their child in a park. Of an elderly man reading him a book for sleep, and also putting a reassuring hand in his shoulder at his parents' funeral. The images then jumped to the same man watching him grow, speaking with him, discussing with him…
Innumerable images then succeed the others. Not only of Matt's grandfather and parents, but also of the friends standing beside him, the foes he defeated, and finally, the white mist swirled and started to form a sole, yet enormous image.
"See, little one? Yes, everyone lost someone that they care about from time to time. Believe me…" a flash passed over Ricardo's mind, an image of a pair of lifeless bodies that belonged to children and an impaled woman pinned to a wall appeared in it. "I know that. And I know what is to hate the people that had hurt you and wanting them dead. I know what is to be consumed by hate. But you shouldn't let it ruin your life. Look" said the elder signaling to the skies, the image on it finally taking shape. "The love that your family and friends had for you is not gone, and as long as it remains in you, they won't leave your hearth. And that same love transcends and evolves, resulting in something new."
The image took shape definitely and become the one of Wilhelmina Vandom, smiling at Matt the same way that she had smiled at him the day they met. Will, who had trusted him with her secret, who had saved him from his hate once… there she was, the sun and skies of his own little world.
"That's ridiculous" said again the mist creature. "They will steal her from us the same way that they had stolen everything else! If you won't let me make the necessary choices to guarantee her safety, if you don't merge with me… then it would be too late! We won't be able to protect her!"
But Matt wasn't listening to the mist creature. He was still looking at Will, his body starting to grow. And in a few seconds child-Matt was gone, leaving only Matt Olsen, in his teenager form. He then directed himself to the creature, eyes glowing in determination. "This man is right!" shouted Matt, signaling to Ricardo. "I won't let down everyone that cares about me, and I won't let the memories of the ones that loved me to fade away, just because I'm hurt! Much less giving up to you!" said the teenager, now eyeing the mist feral creature. It snarled angrily, and threw a punch in Matt's direction, just for the teen to simply stop it with his opened palm and grab the creature's arm. Twisting the thing's tip, the creature hissed in pain and kneeled. "You…" started to say the creature. "You are…!" it wasn't the creature who finished the sentence, though.
"Nothing without me!" and at that shout, Matt punched the mist with his free hand, which shattered into a million pieces that dispersed themselves over the entire city that represented Matt's inner world.
"Aren't you going to imprison him again?" asked Ricardo. "He could return."
Matt negated with his head. "No. I will not run from my feels, even from my hate. It's as part of me as Will and the others are. But, thank you, whoever you are. But if you are an enemy, next time it won't be as easy as with Shagon."
Ricardo smiled. "It's nothing, chaval; and don't worry, it would be boring if it's as easy as this time again. Buenos dias" and with that, the reality of Matt's inner world faded away.
Back in the real world, Ricardo broke the connection with Matt at the same time that the mask of Shagon broke and the boy's body returned to his human form. Ricardo got to his feet and cracked his neck again; then started to levitate and leave the scene. The Guardians would get to the boy and take care of him. Darn it, it had been a really tiring day… and it wasn't the time to eat yet!
"I told you not to involve yourself, child" said the voice of his feminine interlocutor. "Now look at you, you know that you cannot use your Hierro as easy as you used to. Return to the Fast World, I will take care of you"
"I can't"
""What?!" shouted the voice.
"I can't. I have another parade to attend to" said Ricardo somberly.
"No! You cannot confront him!" said the woman, knowing where her companion was going. "You are weak and tired, and he isn't a normal Hierophant either."
"I know. But it's his daughter. He deserves to know" Ricardo started t flow faster, his levitation getting better as his body recovered from the fight. "Even if I hate him from the bottom of my heart."
It wasn't long enough until the five Guardians found and reached the unconscious Matt Olsen. Will was the first one to rush to his side, worried as she was.
Putting the boy's back over her lap, and holding his head up, Will stared onto his face. "Matt, can you hear me?"
At first there wasn't an answer. Then, a whisper came weakly from Matt's mouth. "Will…?"
"Yes, it's me, don't worry, we got you."
"My grandfather… is he really…?" asked Matt.
Will stared at his boyfriend's face for a moment. His eyes were only semi-opened, denoting tiring. Will decided that lying had no real goal. "Yes, he is" answered Will plainly, then in a much more emotional tone, she added "I'm sorry"
Matt returned to the arms of Morpheus. Will stayed with him a little longer. Meanwhile, Cornelia looked at her surroundings. "This place looks…"
"I have noticed too" said Taranee. "It seems like it had been a battle here."
This let the Guardians a little confused. Even when they were carrying the unconscious body of Matt to where Napoleon and Mr. Huggles were waiting; even when they made sure that Matt was safe and Will started to call to Kandrakar using the Hearth; everyone had their own questions.
How did Matt return to his human form? How ended that street looking like a war zone? Was there a battle? If that was he case, who did fight Shagon and defeat him? Was Sylva's state not the result of his injuries, but the result of another fight? Was the attacker the same, or they were different ones? Too many questions and the girls weren't fresh enough to answer them. From the time being, every one of them wanted, more or less, to leave Matt under Kandrakar's care and go home, where a warm meal and a peaceful clime awaited them.
It had been such a tiring morning…
Kandrakar. Center of the Infinity. A few hours later that same day.
Oracle Himerish stood in the center of a chamber filled with light, a little pond of water in the center of it; both Endarno and Tibor by his side. In the pond, the body of Raphael Sylva was floating in trance. In the water of the pond, images of his memories flashed thanks to the property of the liquid. This was, after all, the Pool of Memories, the place that helped any sage that felt like it to remember any moment of his or her life. After all, the life of a sage of Kandrakar, not mention of any Oracle, could be so long that forgetting something was quite easy.
Looking at the memories, Endarno raised an eyebrow. "A quite… intense life" commented the Guardian of the Tower of Mist.
Tibor made one more step. "A barbaric life" said Himerish's right hand man.
In truth, Sylva's memories were mostly composed of his depraved and violent acts over the years. His murders and abuses of strength. But, interestingly, there was nothing in them that could be related at Kandrakar or at the Guardians, which was impossible, if the testimonies of the quintet of girls were believed. And they were.
"So… memory block? Or perhaps shattering?" asked Tibor to te Oracle.
Himerish negated with a movement of his head. "No, my friends. If the memory was just blocked or damaged, the waters of the pond would be enough to unlock or heal it. But there is no lock to decipher, no harm to be healed. The man simply doesn't remember."
"Memory extraction then?" it was Endarno this time. "That's quite the feat, if I must say"
"You are right Endarno; that's not an ability that can be developed easily. I could count the beings that can use it with the fingers of one hand. And none of them are currently on Earth." Himerish pondered a little after saying this. Then he sighed tiredly. "Endarno, this man is of no use, but has proven quite dangerous. For the moment put him in one of the non-enchanted cells of the Tower of Mist." Endarno bowed and proceed to teleport with Sylva to the prison of Kandrakar. "Tibor, make sure that Halinor informs the Guardians about this news. If they are dealing with someone with enough ability to remove a certain memory from someone's mind and leave the others ones unscratched, then they must be in permanent vigilance. You may leave now; I have something more to attend to"
Tibor bowed too and departed, albeit by feet in contrast with Endarno. Himerish started to leave the chamber too. When he reached one of the halls that led to the Chamber of the Aurameres; a sage approached him. It was a man as tall as Himerish, but his skin was deep blue and his eyes of a brilliant red. A shirt amount of hair adorned his head and a serene expression his face. The man bowed slightly in signal of respect and greeting to Himerish. "Oracle Himerish, may you have a moment?"
Himerish looked a little surprised by the petition, but didn't negate the man's request. "Sage A'heres, isn't it? If it's not a problem, could you accompany me? I have something to attend with Sage Luba."
"Not a problem" answered the blue skinned sage.
Walking side by side, the blue man spoke. "We are heading to the Chamber of the Aurameres because the late generation has requested it?"
Himerish didn't like the tone of the sage. But he had to answer. "Yes" answered the Oracle. "They are worried about their abilities. There is a mysterious foe that threatens the safety of Earth. It could be problematic to solve that problem if they cannot use their abilities to their full extent; or even properly"
A'heres looked thoughtfully att he front of the hall. After a few minutes, he said. "Perhaps we are spending too much resources into this generation?" suggested the blue skinned sage.
"What do you mean with that?" asked Himerish, sounding a little more serious than usual, his usual calm smile disappearing from his face.
"Forgive my insolence, but, isn't the reason behind the choice of humans to be the receptacles of the Aurameres that they are expendable' At least that was what…?"
"Enough!" shouted Himerish, and even the sages that were in the opposite end of the Fortress of Light noticed how the building shacked under the power that the Oracle wielded. "I know quite well the decisions of my predecessors, even the ones related to the Purges of Earth and the reorganization of the Guardian System. Don't dare to suggest that I should enforce that decision into those girls, A'heres; not after all they had done."
A'heres stood firmly, his face sowing not fear or any other emotion. "It was only a advice, venerable Oracle. My experience has taught to me that earthlings are not… quite good to lean yourself on. Just… have it in mind, venerable Oracle. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad to return to the old ways."
With that, A'heres and Himerish departed in opposite directions, both returning to their usual duties. The blue skinned man sighed. Humans weren't reliable. They were monsters that didn't deserve their place and power; and the Oracle was too stubborn to see it. If there was a way to show everyone of the risk that they represented…
The world of Earth. Heatherfield at midday.
In Heatherfield, a cople of hours had passed since the girls had ended their fights and returned to their homes. No one of them wanted to talk about it. They just wanted to rest and wait until tomorrow. And to think that in a few hours it would be Christmas Eve… Cornelia thought if Caleb would come to the party, and of what she was going to give Lillian and her parents as presents.
Both Irma and Taranee were trying to relax themselves, the first one with a bath and the second one reading a book. Their minds revolved around the destiny of Sylva. While Taranee was starting to accept that Kandrakar have to kept him prisoner, she still doubted that their ex-teacher should be in the hands of the Council of Light. She hoped that the man would return to Earth, and be judged by his equals.
Irma, in the other hand, thought that Sylva shouldn't have made it to Kandrakar. They should have killed that asshole in the moment they have an opportunity! Shit, if that man ever returned from the Fortress… He would regret doing that to Hay Lin and the other innocent people!
In the Vandom residence, Will was quietly resting in the couch of her house's living room. She could hear her mother in the bathroom, having a shower, in the superior floor. She was already there when Will arrived. The redhead started to make little bolts of Quintessence in her hands, just for killing time.
"Will?!" came her mother's voice from upstairs. "Is that you?!" shouted the mother.
"Yeah!" shouted the daughter from below. "I got here just a few moments ago!"
Will could hear movement from upside. She heard steps, slowly coming closer. Her mother appeared after that, posing in the entrance of the living room with just a towel around her curvaceous body. Will glanced at her from the couch, making sure that the bolts of Quintessence weren't unnoticed as they faded away. Looking at her almost naked mother, a part of Will's mind started to hope that genetics could be kind with her.
"Did Mr. Olsen go somewhere? I passed by his store to salute you but it was closed" said the older woman.
Will thought as fast as she could. "Yeah… he and Matt had to leave the city, something about a family member getting sick. They aren't going to be here for Christmas, though…"
Noticing that her daughter was slightly depressed, Susan made a suggestion. "Hey… I need some things for the dish that I'm going to bring to the arty tomorrow; wanna go buy them for me?" Susan signaled a piece of paper that rested upon one of the small tables of the room.
Will took the paper and, reading it, stood up from the couch, decided to use the assignment to kill some time. "Sure, why not?" Then the redhead took her jacket and exited her home to the cold outside, hoping that the task could be enough of a distraction.
Susan waited a little, and then returned upstairs. The voice of Dean Collins came from the bathroom. "Did you make her go outside?"
"Yep" said Susan, dropping the towel to the floor and getting inside the fuming room again. "Now, where were we…?"
Across the city, in the last floor of a huge building, there was the flat of a new couple. Currently, just like dean and Susan were about to go at it, they were finishing their own 'bed business'. The woman moaned under the weight of the toned body of the man on top of her, who violent and powerfully, almost with the will of a rapist, trusted his member inside of her again and again.
Holding his tighter with her hands on his back, she put her legs around his waist in order to push him even more forward. The woman moaned in ecstasy as the man finally released his load inside of her. Gasping, she freed her lover and he stood up, arching his back, her hands running through his abdomen until they ended at her sides; her body exhausted and wanting a deserved sleep.
Broking their physical connection, the man exited the bed and, putting into a pair of white pants, he let his woman to sleep. Ah, how many women had he had with the pass of the decades, of the centuries? If they had knew with whom they were sleeping… probably wouldn't mind. The woman he had confessed his secret hadn't minded.
He then noticed something itching by his left eye's corner, and moving his head with a smile on it, he reached for the fridge and pulled out two cans of beer. He headed for the terrace of the flat and, entering it, let the cold air of winter to caress his semi-naked body. He opened one of the cans and, sipping from it, he held up the other one, offering it to his guest.
Ricardo Herbosa took the can and, opening it he took a large gulp. He then glared at the man in front of him. Anthony 'Tony' Vandom, the biological father of Wilhelmina Vandom, looked at him. "What?" asked the man, letting the wind to move his red hair.
"Your daughter had a fight with her boyfriend today" said seriously the floating Spanish man.
"Really? They discussed?" said the redhead man, chuckling a little between sobs of beer.
"When I mean fight, I mean fight" assured Ricardo.
Tony made his face look serious. "Is she okay?"
"You do actually care now?" asked the Spanish elder.
"Ricardo…" said Tony, the red in his eyes getting a little more intense.
"She is okay, I assure you, capullo" he took another gulp of the beer can.
"Insulting me is not necessary." retorted Tony. "And of course I care. She is my daughter, after all."
The two men made a pause, and continued drinking from their cans until they were empty. Ricardo tossed his to Tony, who caught it in midair. "Do you want another one?" asked the redhead to the wrinkled floating man. Ricardo negated. "No, I don't want to be a molest, your girlfriend…"
"Fiancé" corrected Tony.
"Right, your fiancé could ask several questions, and I'm not known for disturbing a couple that had just get out of bed. I wanted to tell you about your daughter. That's all."
Ricardo sat in the border of the balcony of the terrace, his legs moving in the void under his. Tony tossed the emptied cans in a little paper bin in the corner of the terrace and leaned his arms over the same balcony where Ricardo was sitting. "Thank you" said sincerely Tony.
"Don't thank me, demonio. It was the right thing to do, but don't be mistaken" Ricardo jumped off the balcony and started to levitate in the air. Folding his arms again, he stood in the air and looked over Tony "I will end your life. It doesn't matter how much time it takes me, or how much effort. Have a nice day, prince" and with that last sentence, Ricardo flew over the skies of Heatherfield, getting out of sight.
Tony Vandom moved his head and decided to go to check in Serena and take another beer from the fridge. "Prince, eh?" thought the redhead. In his way to his room, his eyes rested a little by a little puzzle box that was in the principal hall of his flat as a decorative ornament. "They used to call me Count, though."
Hours passed, and the midday became afternoon. In the outskirts of Heatherfield, there was the city's airport. And in it, in time for the festivities, a private plane arrived. Once in the ground, a pair of figures descended from it, being received by a limousine and a driver.
Getting closer to the car, were a middle aged man of regular stature, with black hair in his head combed backwards, a thin line of facial hair making a modest but elegant beard in his face. He had deep blue eyes and dressed in a burgundy formal suit.
His companion and wife was a woman that looked much younger than him. She also had black hair, but hers was short and left to grow quite alive, a little lock of it almost covering one of her almond eyes. She also was dressed in burgundy, albeit her attire was only composed of a short dress and a pair of boots that let everyone that dared to look to see her long toned legs. This woman was actually quite displeased.
"Victor, I swear, which is the end of having a private plane if you can't ordeal all the dishes you want?" said the woman quite angrily.
"Sephiria…" said the man, his deep voice enhancing his words "you ate two complete adult menus. The cookers of the plane cannot afford to cook more just for you."
"I know, I know… jeez Victor, you should take it a little easier; it was just a joke. You are starting to sound as embittered as Theodore" said the woman, a smile forming in her face.
"Let's make a deal" proposed the deep voiced man. "When we arrive at the city I will treat you to whatever you can eat" said the man, Victor, to his wife. "At least I think that my wallet could afford it… It would be a good place to tell her about Sylva's mess, though. She is going to hate it…" added the man in his thoughts.
"Yay! I love you, Victor!" cheered the woman.
"I hope that it's not the only think that you love about me" a funny smile appearing in his face.
"Oh, you know that it's not" said Sephiria, with an equal playing smile in her face.
The couple reached for the limousine. The driver, dressed in a typical attire of his profession, saluted them when they reached the vehicle. "Mr. Doomstad; Ms. Doomstad. Welcome to Heatherfield"
And with that, the matrimony mounted the car and the vehicle marched towards the city. Christmas Eve was over their heads, the day ending in a few hours, letting the nightmare of hate to fade away… at least for the moment.
"I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain." James Baldwin
Author Notes: And… there it is, the sixth one! That was a Gust of Hate, the second part of the Riddle Arc. Next chapter we left the Earth and get back to Meridian; and we will get a look and how the things are going on there. And also, since the chapter is going to be called Childre of a dysfunctional world, I'm going to focus mainly in the young days of some of the key figures of the world. So, if you are fans of either Phobos or Caleb (or both) prepare to know, aside from other things, my version of their childhoods.
For this chapter, the first half is battle oriented, and it was meant to be in the previous one… but it didn't look good to introduce Ricardo and all… Also, yes, both Ricardo (if you don't understand some of his words in spanish, ask for it and I will give you a list with traductions) and A'heres (his one is an omage to the favourite Grand Admiral of the Empire, due to his appearence in the late trailer of Rebels) are my OC and they will have weight in the story. And yes, the character I mentioned earlier is Tony Vandom, Will's father. "Ah! The good girl's father is a bad guy! Cliché!" Well, yeah, but one of the things that I always wanted to see was Tony as an active enemy of the girls. In the comics he is just an asshole, and in the cartoon he is… normal, so I wanted to transform him into a Hierophant, and actually a pretty special one… You will have to wait to see… Hehehehe.
For the end, hope you enjoyed the read and Matt's 'problem's' conclusion (or is not concluded?) and Ricardo's hammy, boisterous and kind behavior. Also, those of you familiarized with the comic should be also familiar with the term Fast World, and should have deduced with whom the Spanish man was speaking. Also, the Purges of Earth are my own invention and are meant to darken the past of Kandrakar and its Oracles. Also, Starter Villain is down and Big Bad and Arc Villain (and his Co-Dragons) steps in. Yes, I love TV Tropes. But Sylva is gonne, and Riddle and the Doomstads step in the picture, ready to create a World Without Magic. Why? Wait and discover it!
So, see you all in the first Meridian Interlude. Until then, have pleasant days and nights.