Hey everyone! Just finished this a couple of days ago, though I'd best post it up! After all I left it in a bit of an annoying cliffhanger style, didn't I? Thanks for all the reviewers so far, but, please, please, keep it up! Hope everyone's been enjoying the story, things are starting to hot up, huh! Put the recap in it again, which you should read, maybe this chapter will give you some answers to questions from chapters past! Hopefully every little thing that didn't make sense when you read it will make sense at the end of the story!
Connor trapped Angel and dropped him into the ocean.
Wesley captured Justine and used her to find and rescue Angel.
Angel dreamt as he was released from the ocean.
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"I believe it was my farther who taught me how to hate, soul, or no soul." Angel spoke to Darla.
"You've got to understand it's not how we do things that matters, it's what we do" Angel said to a proffessor.
1792, Luxembourg:
"I take it you're Asheara." Angel met a white-robed priestess who spoke to him of the world inevitable end.
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Angel went to find Wes to get Cordelia but discovered that he had been captured by Wolfram and Hart. Angel planned to break in and retrieve him.
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Lilah was called to speak to the girl in the white room. She spoke of a coming apocalypse.
"It's coming Lilah, the end, the beginning, everything everyone has fought for will come together," her voice continued to rise with power and passion as she spoke, "like the lamb of the alter, death is without vein. From the seventh day every sacrifice brings us closer." She spoke every word now as though it was sacred, like a preacher. "Lilah, know that you are the Wolf and when the vessel calls you must come."
Lilah found a place she could research what she had been told. A ghostly appearance of scrawled words that spoke to her, told her to take a marked book. She was attacked by two, identical human-looking men.
She captured Wesley to translate the book. Wesley discovered about the two men,
"It speaks a lot of an ancient demon sect dedicated to bringing about the Apocalypse, or aiding it or something. It says that they can live among us in guise of kin."
He discovered a line of text crucial to the coming apocalypse.
Blood of the Wolf, Blood of the Hart, for the soul of the Ram.
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Connor was captured by Wolfram and Hart and tortured by Gavin. Lynwood returned and degraded Gavin's authority and pride. Gavin took a weapon and prepared to kill Lynwood.
Connor remembered things from his past snippets of his relationship with Holtz, and after seeing something he'd never seen in him before and viewing the hatred on gavin's eyes he understood it all.
He understood Holtz's pathetic lust for revenge and vowed to stand against what he had been taught to believe.
Managing to escape from the chains that Lynwood used to bind, and torture him he was met by an unnerving fire alarm before being plunged into consuming darkness.
Angel arrived at Lilah's office and was prepared to rescue Wes when he found he wasn't so much of a captor after all. Soon they too were greeted by a fire alarm, which Angel had arranged, then, total darkness that made even Angel himself ponder.
Apocalypse Nowish
Chapter 11-Revelations part 2
Fred felt her heart beat rapidly and fiercely as she gripped the arms of her chair though her very life depended on it. Her chest heaved and she heard her frightened panting in the eerily silent air, which had just seconds ago been filled with her own mighty scream. Her hands began to slide down the leather seat as the sweat covered her shivering body. Her eyes were still, staring fixedly at the dark black screen in front of her. Just moments ago she had seen a horrible, menacing eye, as large as the screen itself spy her. Then horrific images of a dark, silhouetted figure walking ominously into Wolfram and Hart. Her breathing began to calm as Gunn suddenly burst into the office.
He skidded to a sudden halt as he spotted her staring dazedly at the screen, glued to it, fearing to move her eyes. "What the hell happened?" She kept her eyes on the screen as she replied dazedly, "whahuh?"
Gunn frowned and walked over to her chair, grabbing her on the shoulder. She suddenly felt as though she had been awoken from a consuming daydream. She blinked a few times and felt relieved her strange daze had been interrupted. She took comfort in Gunn's eyes as he leaned over closer to her. She was still breathing hard but she began to feel the horror of what she had seen leave her. Gunn noticed the fear in her face and felt at a loss as to what could have happened.
"Fred," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder and looking to her sympathetically, "what, what happened to you?"
Fred began to shake her head as she tried to open her mouth to reply but the shock still choked her words. She sat in silence for a second, pausing from trying to speak and waited until her breath was calm. Lorne suddenly walked cautiously into the room. He was wearing a shiny, blue dressing gown and red slippers. His eyes were still sleepy and he was rubbing his forehead to hold back the tiredness. He looked over to Fred, stared dumbfounded, before blinking a few times and suddenly jumping into the world of the awake. He rushed over to the other side of the desk with a worried look on his face.
"What happened, honey?"
"I just heard a scream and came in here to find her all" Gunn stated. Lorne turned his head to Gunn with a comic expression. "Do I call you honey?" Gunn shook off the comment and turned back to Fred, who, to his relief, was smiling. "Probably" He muttered, under his breath, sure Lorne had heard despite the fact he had paid no attention.
"I thought you were catching some zeds, Lorne." Gunn said, pointedly.
"Hey, I was z-breezing until little Miss Muffet here cried spider."
Fred was now fine. She felt no more fear with the other people in the room and although she felt it was mysterious, she no longer felt the horror.
"It wasn't a spider, trust me." She finally spoke, clearly and informatively.
"Well, what was it? What happened?" Asked Lorne.
"The screen" She said, pointing at the black laptop screen. Lorne and Gunn both turned their heads to it and looked puzzled.
"I was watching bits and pieces of the Wolfram and Hart surveillance when I saw something strange, really strange."
"How strange are we talking? Cause a man with a pink bow tie ain't gonna cut it?" Gunn said. "Maybe a Pink Hat." He concluded with a grave frown. Fred grinned appreciatively, for his warming humour. "It was an eye, a huge eye. The size of the screen." Lorne and Gunn traded pondering glances. "It wasn't a dream or anything" She reassured them, though the memory was starting to fade and she was becoming less and less sure of what she had seen.
"At first I thought, you know, someone might have simply put their eye up to it, but then I saw that the camera was in perfect focus. So"
"So" Gunn pushed.
"It couldn't be that because something right up to it wouldn't look like that, and, something else. It was just, I don't know, wrong somehow." She met their raised brows by quickly continuing. "But then, the eye opened, and it was Red, the pupil." Gunn suddenly nodded his head in wonder, "And the video feed was black and white."
"Exactly, what I was seeing became even more impossible." She began to feel a strange feeling in her heart, as though she should not speak what she had seen and as though someone was in the room, watching her every move, catching her every word. It was an unsettling haunting feeling but she continued.
"Then, this is where it really creeps me out, then it went to the camera at the front reception."
"Yeah, that place can really give you a bad dose of fear." Fred ignored him.
"No, Someone, or something walked in through the front door. But it wasn't human, I'm sure. It appeared a thick, toneless black and, though the figure was human it seemed to be nothing but a smudge. It moved but it was a constant black, like an exceptionally dark shadow."
"Despite the fact you were wavering, in the sense of being awake, I trust you weren't dreaming." Gunn told her, sighing and taking in a deep breath of anxious wonder.
"I might be able to prove that it wasn't a dream." She said, after the realisation suddenly hit her. She leaned forward and picked up the laptop, placing it gently on her lap. The others leaned over her to get a view of what was going on. She pressed the on' button above the keyboard and waited. The others understood when they observed the computer didn't start. Gunn looked to the side to spot the cable that sat across the table, and the powerpoint it was clearly plugged into. He shook his head, "Don't worry, Fred. I didn't need proof. Now I just wonder what it all means. The stuff you say man, that is some freaky shit."
"Let's just hope it's a regular client buggering up the system." Lorne said.
Fred just frowned and gazed fiercely at the empty computer screen, searching for answers in the blackness.
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"Answers," said Connor, as he looked about the room through the pitch-blackness. It appeared as a deep green to him and he could make out the two moving figures in the room. Gavin was standing against the wall, in the corner; his head and shoulders slumped. Connor felt something strange from him. He felt that Gavin was not scared, or even wondering what was happening. Lynwood was directly in front of him, still cowering from his glance, against the shelves. He looked down to see two faces almost looking up at him, with their necks resting at the edge of the table. Connor shivered as he saw the difference between the two faces. The knife was still imbedded in his forehead and his face was spread thick with dark blood. He looked around the room, feeling the dry blood on his own chest, which he had failed to cover up with his unbuttoned shirt, now hanging loosely either side of his figure. He looked at his hand and saw the pale, tattered bandages that wrapped them safely. The dry blood beneath his nose and on his chin had ceased to itch but he new it was their, staining his face. The whole room was practically a bloodbath, he observed as he spied the walls and floors, tainted with gashes and splatters of blood, a dark black in the darkness. He felt cold, but he didn't want to do his shirt back up. Right now, he wanted cold, he wanted fear, he wanted pain. For once in his life he didn't lust for revenge of some sought. He didn't want to lash out of the world, he knew he couldn't let himself become what Holtz had wanted, a monster. A predator bred for killing and nothing else. He had behaved the way he had because it had been what he believed in, but now that he knew the truth he realised that he didn't have to be like that. This left him with but the daunting task of becoming human. He would escape, he would find Angel, wherever he might be, and he would join him to fight for his humanity by his side.
Suddenly he broke from his involved thoughts and reissued his command. "Answers," he said, a second time. Lynwood finally replied, "I honestly don't know what's happening, well, I know the power is off and that before that the alarm, the fire alarm, was activated. I just don't know why."
Connor frowned. "So, something is really wrong."
"Right. I thought the alarm might have been a drill, but this, I'm not sure." Connor heard his fast breathing through the stagnant air. He even began to feel himself sweat with fear. Everything was silent. As though noise itself was watching with bated breath, expecting something to jerk in the shadows, something to jump out from every, ominous corner. Connor began to feel something very off about the whole situation. He felt something, something evil, was lurking below, slowly making its way up. He felt an imminent hunt and although he didn't understand what was happening he felt a compelling urge to get something to defend himself. He could see from the window that it was not an option of escape. All of a sudden the darkness was complete, although it was just as dark before this seemed to be a part of it. He felt shadow engulf the room as he saw the buildings through the window disappear. A shutter had fallen down. He walked up to the window with a grave suspicion, grabbing a chair at the end of the table as he reached it. He swung the chair straight into it without pausing. The glass hit the floor and shattered into the room but the chair gave a cracking noise and fell to the ground again. He tapped the suspiciously complete shutter through the gap in the glass. He shivered as he hit cold, sharp steel. He frowned and began to feel fear creep up to him again.
He felt the fear powerfully radiate from Lynwood now and his breathing was panicked. Connor felt no sympathy for him. Connor felt fear creep up on him as he felt a strange presence churn beneath him, as though fear itself was seeping through the floor. He walked forward towards the door, past Lynwood. The door was open and he crept through with cautious steps, feeling he should tread lightly though he knew not why. He heard a set of footsteps behind him and turned his head to see Lynwood follow hopefully. Connor ignored him and began to pick up his pace as he the corner of the hall and continued down the next hall. "There aren't any other doors," he said aloud, making sure Lynwood understood he wanted answers.
"Umm, yeah, this floor, it's only really for interrogation." Lynwood stuttered, keeping a safe distance away from Connor. Suddenly Connor swivelled his head, looking over Lynwood shoulder and to the end of the hall after hearing a suspicious sound, a menacing creeping. He began to feel the cold again as he was reminded of the fear. But Connor let out an overwhelming sigh of relieved tension as Gavin walked sombrely into view. His shoulders were slumped and his head faced the floor and Connor noted heedfully that he also, loosely held the blood knife one of his hands. The other hand was held up against the wall to guide his way through the darkness. Connor walked up to him and held out his hand commandingly. Gavin raised his head and looked up at Connor. His eyes were wet and his face melancholy with a deep grievance. Connor kept an honestly hard face and Gavin handed over the knife with no resistance. Connor glared at him unsympathetically again then turned around and jogged back in front of Lynwood who was leaning against the wall glaring at Gavin. Connor began to jog, determined to find someway out of the building and to safety, and also fearing to remain still as though something were following him.
He reached the staircase door and, as he heard Lynwood stroll up to beside him and Gavin lumber behind, he struck out powerfully with his foot. The door crashed inwards and with it the eerie silence was suddenly snatched away. All of a sudden Connor heard sound of rushing footsteps and screams of horror churn beneath him. It was as though the building was awoken and now he knew something was wrong very wrong. He smelled death vividly down the staircase itself, which was also vibrating with many panicked voices and steps. The darkness made it worse than it should have been because he could only hear the destruction. He gripped the knife tightly as he realised why he hadn't heard anything before. "This room," he began," this floor, it's all sound proof, isn't it?"
He swerved round to face Lynwood to find a stunned and fearful face before him. He heard a chilling cry of pain echo up the stairs and felt the need to hurry. He looked over to Gavin and saw not the expected solemn, depressed but a strangely determined one. He frowned as Gavin simply leaned against the wall and looked past him at the stairwell, smiling eccentrically. Another scream erupted from the stairs. Lynwood was stuck in a despairing gaze so Connor entered the stairwell and peered down through the middle. He could plainly see that they were high as far below him he saw frantic scrambling figures, screaming and running. He could only make out movement through the darkness.
He didn't know what was happening but he knew that it had nothing to do with the people behind him. It seemed the whole building had become a giant trap. All the windows blocked by sturdy, steel covers, and he assumed the same for the outer doors. He couldn't get his head around why the building would be built like that. He could also see Lynwood had no idea either. Suddenly a limp shadowy figure fell over a railing and Connor watched it tumbled down the stairs. People were being attacked. A couple of people had sprinted to the stairs just below Connor, but before they swerved around the corner he heard a close, petrifying scream, then another. He breathed in deeply and suddenly sprinted down the stairs, gripping the handrail to keep himself from toppling over as he swerved the corners, ready to fight the attackers. He swung the last corner before he saw a couple of lifeless bodies lying face downwards on the stairs. Lining the dark walls were black streaks of blood. He noticed a fading of screams below as he inspected the area. The onslaught must be slowing. He looked around for the killer when, suddenly, something lunged out of the darkness at him, the man had been just in front of Connor, hidden in the shadows. Connor saw the knife held forward and twisted to the side, avoiding the blow then striking up with his knee, hitting the stumbling man in the chest and sending him into the air. Connor caught his neck and held him against the rail. He inspected the man as best as possible in the darkness. He bore a blank expression and an ordinary face, His body was of typical size and bulk and he wore a blood stained suit with a blue tie. Connor grabbed the knife from him, giving him two in the same hand. He glared into the man's vacant expression and frowned in complete confusion. Still frowning, he threw the man over the rail and watched as he dropped from view silently and swiftly. Although he didn't want to do anything proclaimed bad in this world he could never feel remorse for a killer. His stomach churned as this sparked thoughts of Angel.
Suddenly a heavy cry of shock came from above him, interrupting his impromptu thoughts. 'Lynwood' he thought, and raced back upwards. As he reached the floor below the one he had entered from, a body flew right past him, just above his head. It slammed into the concrete wall and slumped to the ground. It was Gavin. He had been thrown, with unnatural force from the level above. Connor gulped, but feeling the blood of a warrior run through him, he gave his other hand a knife, so he had one in each, and resumed sprinting up. He skidded into the open doorway of the interrogation level and saw Lynwood being held in the air by a single, straight arm, gripping him tightly around the neck. Connor jumped into action. He ran forward and swung the knife upwards, cutting through the air towards the wrist of the anonymous arm. Another arm, belonging to the same person, swung up from behind the edge of the doorway and mightily grabbed Connor's hand. Connor's eyes widened with the shock of how powerful this unknown foe felt, as he found himself unable to move in the slightest by his powerful grip. Suddenly a horrifying crack cut the air and Connor looked over to find Lynwood's head leaning against his back in past agony. Connor felt anger build up inside him. Although he hated Lynwood, Connor he wished to renounce uncaring thoughts. He could find humanity in himself by valuing that of others, however faint that might be.
The hidden warrior released Lynwood and Connor then disappeared behind then door. Connor stepped back and rubbed his crushed wrist in searing pain. He was sneering with anger now and was determined to fight this man. He jumped sideways, doing a mid-air flip into the hall. He flipped right back onto his feet and landed leaning against the wall. Glaring forward with his fists clenched and his body on fire with the promise of battle. The man was still standing right in the middle of the hall a few steps back. He was wearing a long, black coat that lay silently at his ankles and a deep blue, untucked shirt. He had dark black hair that seemed almost artistically unkempt, as did almost everything about him. All in all he seemed an average man in every way, although he had a handsome face and there was something about him that just seemed to make him perfect. As though everything he wore, everything about him was the way it should look on people. It almost made Connor wonder what every other person he'd met was missing. The man's deep blue eyes gazed piercingly and eerily at Connor and he felt fear being shoved into his mind by his cruel and unwelcome stare. Connor's sneer began to dim as he noted the playful smile spread across the man's face.
They stood in line with each other for what seemed like eons. Simply scanning each other as they stood, unmoving in the darkness. The noise below had died down now but for the occasional scream and Connor heard every one of his heavy breaths in comparison to the man who stood before him, separated by but a few metres of hall and Lynwood's corpse, whose breathing was unnaturally silent. Connor could have almost believed him a statue if it were not for what he had done before. Connor had felt the power from the man before him. But then, as he stared in apprehensive awe he began to wonder whether this imposing figure before him was really a man after all. He felt a weird vibe, or something, he couldn't put his finger on it. He heard a couple of gunshots echo below then finally cut his daze and posed the question.
"Who are you?"
The man's eyes did not move, did not blink. It was as though the question had gone right through him. Finally, after a long pause the man's smile widened and he opened his mouth to reply.
"I am the risen. I will bring about a new era, well, ultimate death really, but era is a great word."
Connor frowned uneasily at his threatening reply. Such a merry voice when speaking of death unnerved him greatly.
"What are you talking about?"
He smiled. "You're right. Why am I talking? Though I do love the English language I did come here to take my prize, and enjoy it." The man began to stride excitedly towards Connor as he spoke, smiling merrily as he etched forward. "You see, brother, you and I share the knowledge just as family should. We both understand the big picture, pain is the only thing that matters, pain and death. All the things Angel speaks of, feels, his love, his compassion, his selflessness, they don't matter, not in the least. All that matters is what we do, how we effect things physically. Being angry with someone is but futile emotion, enforcing vengeance is everlasting glory. Holtz taught you this, without you understanding it's not how humans behave, not how they work. I tell you now Connor, ever since you've been here you've your supposed kin, you've witnessed what they can do, nothing. They are weak, they are born and they die, most of them achieving nothing. You, Connor, are above them, you understand the weak fabric of their humanity' and you despise it. I'm here to finish their existence, as has always been planned, you, as my brother, will stand with me at the end."
Connor felt the corners of his eyes begin to dampen as his brain frantically mulled over the passionate, deadly words. The man, or thing, seemingly knew everything about Connor, down to the deepest depths of his soul. And with his knowledge he felt the man twisting his emotions, though he did not know why. The man was, in fact posing so many fears and so many dreadful questions he could almost not bear to listen. He covered his ears and screamed, waving his head to shake the thoughts from his mind. He suddenly locked his eyes onto the man, who, he hadn't noticed, was now practically in his face. He pointed his finger at him fiercely. "Shut up! What the hell do you know about me, About anything?" He saw the man smile, ready to reply with a wordy remark Connor didn't want the man to speak any more, he hated every one of his words so much so that he could not bear to listen; he almost felt them corrupt him, with some shadowy force. "If you know all about me as you seem to, thenthen, who are you? Why are you here? What are you talking about? What do you mean BROTHER?" He shouted.
"Come now, fellow sibling," he taunted, "you know how to treat family. Holtz made sure you knew all about that, didn't he? Oh, but wait, you've had a revelation of soughts." He chuckled mockingly, "I promise you, you woke up with a different point of view, it isn't exactly going to shake the Earth." Connor glared angrily, though he still did not understand what he meant. He tried to close off emotions as he listened, hoping to have some of his questions answered. "I'm just saying, as far as revelations go, it ain't that relevant. Pretty soon the whole Earth is going to be doomed, and right now, I'm offering you the chance to watch the world end, to see those you hate end."
"I that why you came here?" Connor demanded.
"No, but thanks to the employees of Wolfram and Hart, they gift wrapped themselves with you. , An excellent package. This planet should be cake."
Connor forced himself to ignore the last statement, though logging the questions in the back of his mind. "You did this," he stated, pointing to Lynwood's disfigured corpse lying on the carpet.
"Clap clap for the handicap. I sure did. Killed the lot of them. Well, there might be a few still around but, trust me, they won't last."
"Why are you killing them?"
"I need them, just as I need you. On the subject of you, how did I get so sidetracked? From now on I stay on topic, the choice. Come with me now and watch the world ending, or become a part of the world ending."
Connor shivered with doubt at the question and although the strive to be good was a small part of it, he knew it was his determination and bravery that would keep him fighting. He smiled at the man, though the tears forming in his eyes most likely made it weak. He knew that he was far too illogical, far too hardheaded and arrogant to let himself be helped by anyone. He loved that he felt so sure of himself and kept his smile as the man frowned with disappointment.
The man sighed, and then, with out so much as a split-second warning his arm jabbed out to the side of Connor's face. It cut through the air and hit Connor's head before he even had time to react. He was blown off his feet and the force rung through his head fiercely. His body suddenly shuddered with searing pain again as he slammed into hard concrete, slumping to the floor and feeling the debris of concrete fall over him. Tiny bits of crumpled concrete covered his head and shoulders and a thick cloud of dust still hovered the air. Connor blinked a few times, opening his eyes to a blurry haze. The pain was prevailing throughout his body; he felt as though his bones were still vibrating powerfully. He struggled to his feet, still barely able to see, especially through the darkness. He also found himself rendered incapable of thought. His mind was still screaming with pain and shock He slowly began to recover as he scanned the darkness. Suddenly a deep movement of black in the shadows alerted him. He struggled to react though, only limply placing his arms in front of him to stop an attack
Suddenly the recognition from his hands came to him. He felt knives still tightly gripped in either hand. He gripped them more tightly and his vision began to come back to him. He saw the darkness with clarity now, and was on his toes for anything. Footsteps suddenly erupted into the silence of the stairwell. He pinpointed the location of the sound in front of him and grinned as he made out the shadowy outline slowly approaching. He flipped the knife in his hand and caught it by the blade, swinging it back past his shoulder and releasing it in a deadly accurate strike. The knife gave a whoosh as it sliced the air. He waited with bated breath as the figure stopped about four steps from him.
He began to shiver with fear again as he remembered the powerful blow the man had struck. He felt a panicking fear of helplessness creep up on him, in the solitary darkness. He jumped as a sharp footstep cut the tenseness of the air. He looked forward in horror. The man had resumed stepping forward methodically, one step at a time. He had made no sound at the blow and just continued on his path as though nothing had happened. Connor began to panic with fear and threw the knife at the figure recklessly. This time the footsteps did not pause and the man stepped down to right in front of Connor, leaning over to face him.
"Now, now Connor. No need to resort to such crude weaponry, I cannot be killed." he finished with a pointed scoff.
"Why are you attacking me?"
"Because it's fun, and I figure I might as well pack some fun into these final days."
"You won't end the world!"
"Why is that?"
"Because I'll kill you! Angel will kill you! You will FAIL!"
Connor spied a sharp, menacing glint by the man's side. The man smiled when he saw Connor's face crumble. He raised the knives in his hands to Connor's face to affirm his fearful suspicion. "That's right, I actually caught the knives in the air!" he said, emphasising the jovial sarcasm. Connor began to sweat and tremble with fear, gripping onto the desperate hope of escape would no longer work; he could no longer stave off his fears and now, though he still fought by the tether that the man mightn't intend to kill him, he truly felt death's hand reaching out to him. Pain was tearing open his wounded body and fear struck every thought he felt. He closed his eyes, awaiting the jolt of pain from the knife. Biting his lip he leaned against the wall with a powerful sense of despair.
No pain came, not his own scream, but a deep, cruel laughter echoed about the silent, bloodstained building. He opened his eyes suddenly and looked at the man, who bore a mischievous grin. "Now the sweet smell of fear, I find engulfed in the mighty odour of death. Connor, my boy, I expected more. I guess you are but mortal after all, but human, but weak."
"Shut up!" Connor spat.
"Ooh, that hurt. I really wish I could kill you, boy. But I can't, even if I wanted to."
Connor looked up at him with a morbidly curious frown.
"That's right, brother. You and I are part of something big, from now until the very end we are immortal. You can be wounded of course, well, you've already found that out haven't you? You may be wondering why I'm telling you this, and, I'll tell you that as well. It doesn't matter what I say or do, the end is inevitable, the revelation is near and there is no way to stop it."
Connor gazed fixedly at him, shocked by the powerful words that the man spoke. He tried to join the dots together but couldn't find what all of this meant. He knew one thing though, this guy wasn't lying, he had no need to, and right now he knew only one thing. He had to escape, he had to find Angel and he had to kill the man in front of him. Connor grinned and swung his arm forward with tremendous might. He intended to miss, and as the man ducked to the side to avoid the punch Connor continued his powerful swing. As his arm twisted back around him he carried his leg through with the force, swinging it towards the man's face. He heard a deep thud as his boot smacked the man in the face. Connor watched in delight as the man's body twisted in the air and crashed into the stairs above. So he can be hurt.
Suddenly Connor heard a sudden onslaught of clanging footsteps below, as though he had awoken something. He looked to the side, down the next turn in the stairwell, to find a group of figures charge towards him. He frowned as he saw they all bore identical clothes, and more horridly, identical faces. They all appeared to be exactly the same, and he recognised them too. He had thrown one down the stairs earlier. They all sprinted forward in a cluttered group, there had to by at least 30 of them, a small army. Connor didn't pause, his confidence had had a sudden jump and even if he lost he would fight to the end, if he was mortal that is. He swung his body around as he struck fourth with his leg, sending a sharp kick into the leading man's face. The man was blown off his feet and fell backwards, toppling others over as he tumbled down the stairs. The front of the group had all fallen backwards so Connor took the chance to glance back up the stairs. The man was back on his feet and once again methodically stepping down the stairs towards him. Connor's heart was pumping now and as soon as he saw a dark black object lying on the stairs in front of both him and the man, he dived for it. The man must have dropped it. He dived up the stairs with his hands outstretched and swiped the dagger, placing his hands firmly on the step and flipping upwards to his feet. He was facing the man now, only three feet in front of him at the most. He heard the clutter of footsteps behind him resume as he jumped forward, knife held ready to swipe.
He was cruelly caught off guard as he was about to cut through the air at the man's neck. Suddenly he felt a mighty blow to the chest and that, combined with the powerful forward motion he had built up, sent him soaring backwards off the stairs. He collided into the concrete once again, shattering the same spot as he had before, once again inflicting a downpour of dust and small debris. The pain had been unsuspectingly and mercilessly inflicted once again, this time in the chest. He tumbled to the ground, unaware of the many identical faces looking down at his wriggling body gasping for breath, awaiting their master to strike again. He came slowly once again, taking each step religiously, loudly and rhythmically, enforcing a cruel wrath of fear upon the struggling Connor. The man walked right up to him, ignoring his men beside the body, and grabbed his collar. He lifted Connor to his height, so that his legs were slightly above the ground. Connor was beginning to regulate his breathing and opened his eyes. The man smiled his trademark smile, a full-hearted grin of delight and wicked pleasure. "Whydoing this?" Connor managed through forced breaths.
"Why? Oh, that's easy, it always is, because I can. I have to make you learn that, though you now trust in humanity, a last minute anomaly in the scheme of things, you're trust is unfounded. You have to feel the pain of being alone and soon you will stop fighting."
The man swiftly raised his arm, knife poised threateningly in front of Connor. "Consider the easy way Conner" He swiped downwards with the knife with deadly speed, hitting him right in the shoulder, the blade protruding from his back. Connor let out a blood-curdling cry as blood began to soak into his pale shirt. The man kept him held in the air as he watched him struggle with pain, the knife still firmly imbedded in his shoulder. The man grinned as he ripped the knife harshly out of his torn flesh. "And cry over the choice you took, never forgetting, that it doesn't matter, it's never up to you. You are alone, no one is here to help you, no one, especially not"
"Me?" A refreshingly warm, yet commanding voice came from the stairs above. It was Angel.