A thick tension filled the air, a replacement of a heartbeat a million times over. The sun intensified tenfold as the audience of clouds gasped, their mouths hanging wide open in disbelief. Invisible and unheard cheers and boos were filling the nonexistent stadium. Applause of silence screamed through the empty crowd. Trees shook their heads, greenish strands of hair rustling thickly; some whistling a strong wind, as if a blow dryer. Mark continued to fall downward, eyes now unable to open up, as if they had been eaten away and he did not want to show the hideousness of their outer shell.
Nooks and crannies of a stone muffin fell with him, sprinkled over his aura like sprinkles on a vanilla ice cream, swirled roller coasters of thickness wrapped around it, a netted cone of sugar. Wind resistance was not good enough to stop time. Eric and Walter knew they couldn't do anything, and Eric, being the one who was more eager, flailed his arms upward, as if trying to catch him from such a distance. If only wishes ever came true.
The opponent smiled as he waited for the brown-hair boy in the sky to plummet closer to him. His gray cheeks pushed themselves backwards to make room for his grinning evil. Swinging the axe as he found Mark's body inches away from him, it gave a horrid crack through the air, light puffs of gray dust and smoke still taking their tolerant time to fade away. "Mark!" Eric cried out his teammate's name. Another arm went up in the air, as if participation in a classroom. Eyes with an eager answer broadened helplessly. A mouth hung itself open, wanting, waiting for its inner tongue to speak the solution; the unhesitant response.
Luckily, Mark's head was hit with the back of the axe, the wooden spine of it. Even so, it gave a disgusting, sickening crack through the forest as the axe flung his body all the way to the left. Eric's eyes were hot on the rolling body as it stopped by the sunken feet of trees. It dragged dust along, like a sushi roller, preparing a delectable Asian meal on its own cost. The meal was uncompleted; a California roll of dust and unsatisfying air, unagi of leafy eels and dusted, splintering seaweed, thick and too dry for use. "Don't worry," a rasped voice of the enemy spoke. The only speaking sound caught Eric's attention immediately, switching his shocked expression into an angry, grudged one. Fists tightened angrily; eyes narrowed in hate. Teeth began to clench and grind unhealthily. You could swear there were sparks coming from the friction. Walter was amazed at how Eric reacted, his eyes blank as he stared at trembling limbs of his teammate. "I won't kill him just yet. It won't be of any use to kill someone who's not noticing," the voice continued as the naked feet crept closer. Walter shifted in tardy preparedness. Creepy, murderous eyes stared to the limp, swayed body of the Earth Minor. Eyes continued to remain closed in embarrassment. Lips tightly kissed each other, a passion never ending, the only ones they could have affection for. "No debt would be paid if he didn't feel pain. Then, it'd just be a stupid thing to kill like that," the freak of nature explained. He was a freak of nature… wasn't he?
Fists trembled uncontrollably. They were eager to do something, too eager for safety. Eyes lay helplessly on the floor; a shaded forehead stopped facial expressions, excluding a quivering pair of lips. "Debt?" Eric asked through a shaking tongue, nervous with hate, an indescribable feeling of intense revenge. "Debt!?" he screamed louder in repetition. Walter watched with awe. There were no thoughts. "What debt!?" Eric demanded, picking up his head and revealing his dark, hard-working eyes. They burned with an angry passion of detestation, teeth proudly showing themselves in a ground bliss that was blistered and scraped until it became abhorrence. The enemy seemed amused. Walter's blank expressions filled with more awe.
"You wouldn't understand," the enemy explained easily. His voice flowed smoothly despite the croaky, frog-like contents of it. Unwashed teeth smiled a sickening, cragged, yellow and moldy grin. "Don't act like you do. Understand?" the opponent asked, walking out of the leftover wisps of dust. His bare feet were hot against the blazing summer ground.
"No…" Eric denied. His trembling became a seizure of a shake. He bit his bottom lip to add pain to the intense feelings. He could just punch that guy right now – he definitely had the motivation to, and for some reason, for Eric only, when he had the motivation, he could do anything. You'd be surprised. "You're the one," Eric accused with anger in a roaring tone. "You're the one that doesn't understand!" he screamed, adding head and hand motions to his intense rage and irritation.
The opponent scoffed as he scraped his feet closer. Friction and dust sounded through the open field in the forest. It was like a stadium surrounded by walls of watchful trees. Heads continued to sway in the wind, hair fluttering uncontrollably, some even bald at this point, missing their large afro of green leaves. "You don't know what it's like to be taken away from your family, the ones you love," the opponent said seriously, narrowing his eyes hatefully. "Who do you think you are? You don't know what it's like to become something you never expected to become!"
"We don't understand…?" Walter repeated, his fists now clenched as well, his teeth ground tightly in unison with Eric. Eric noticed his actions, and felt a bit better now that he wasn't the only one doing this. Walter's voice was calm, ready to burst out in his own anger like Eric any moment. Trembling fists began their own seizure with no blood of vomit to give, luckily. Fingers hugged themselves as they experienced their first earthquake that the rest of the body didn't feel. Why were they always the ones to be picked on? They cried tears of red as their heads dug deep into the surface, wanting to hide themselves. "We understand as much as you do!" Walter screamed out, letting out his scream as well. Eric had competition now. He smiled at the fact, only a light, tiny smirk left unnoticed and alone – the way it wanted to be as it lived its solitary paradise. "You don't know shit!" Walter screamed angrily. Now Eric felt that Walter was taking it a bit too extreme. "How would you like it… if the ones you loved hated you!? Huh!?" he demanded in irritation. "And they were the only ones to care about!?" Walter scoffed. "We have our own roads, and if they shall interfere, you'll be the one to die!"
Dark, demon eyes became grudging slits. Another pair of hands dug their fingers into their palms, a suicide from hate of the world. Scoffs came from the antagonist side. "We both have the same purpose," Walter told him. "Revenge." Eric's interest piqued.
"Revenge?" the enemy spoke creakily, as if an ancient door unbothered for years, wise with overgrown sides, dusty panels.
"However, there is one big difference between you and me," Walter went on, shifting his weight and fixing his stance. His right foot slid and went behind the left one. His fists loosened their clenching and tightened again into ready, prepared fists of combat. Confidence poured into them, mixing with the vein's cargo of blood as he gave a light smirk of preparation. The enemy seemed piqued as to what Walter would say next. He seemed also prepared to mock back. "I have the power and will to avenge myself. You, however, do not," Walter blurted out intentionally.
"What did you say?!" the enemy screeched out hatefully, as if surprised. "How dare you!?"
"Enough," Walter concluded, disregarding the opponent's wasteful words. "No more talking. Come!" he demanded quickly. The enemy seemed somewhat pleased, and somewhat angry.
The enemy sneered in a hateful deride as he swung his axe of love forward, a sound of scissors slicing the air. Trailing a long track of dust, the axe's spinning emerged from the dust, and zigzagged for Walter. "Pressure – a hundred percent!" Walter cried out as the Water Minor let out a string of pressurized water bullets. They torpedoed through the air like easily birds, gliding across invisibly and skillfully, as if done a million times. The axe dodged skillfully, as if having a mind of its own. Walter sneered as he got back on his feet.
Taking a deep yet short breath, Eric spit out a red slice of flame from his lips. It hissed as it was flung through the air, flat like a net, zooming like a fallen star. The shooting star made direct impact and spread hot steam over the axe. However, as if an eager confidence, the axe flung out of the steam, streaming in the air in determination. The fire had no effect on it at all. Maybe, just maybe it heated it up a little, but that fact was changed seconds after. "What the hell?" Eric called out in surprise. How can that be possible? Eric thought.
"Damn it, I don't have time for this!" Walter cried angrily as he ran straight for the swinging axe, picking up speed dramatically as if he were the Flash. He disappointed fans a second later.
"Walter!" Eric cried out helplessly, not knowing what to do again as he watched the Water Minor shout angrily as he charged for the axe.
Ducking a second before impact, Walter dodged the axe and let it swing past him, making a hard slit against the body of a wounded tree. Its voice rustled through leaves at the sudden pain. Wind pressed against the leaves of its shadow. The tree would demand an unpaid refund. Still running, Walter halted himself to a stop. "Suihangan!" he called out as more bullets shot out from his back. The clear innocence of the water was faked through appearance. The pressure of the tiny, dangerous dots intentionally crashed into the ground between Walter and the waiting opponent. Intense dust spilled into the air quickly, a fog rising from nowhere, a spilt glass of discolored milk with no gravitation pulls to bring it down, spitting it out confidently and happily on top of an absence of upholstery and table covers. Piqued interests rose. Eric decided not to interfere and just watch for an opportunity to help without messing up Walter's untold plan.
The dust crept everywhere, inches away from the enemy as Walter suddenly popped out like a cannonball from a pirate ship, carrying a stream of smoke behind it. He gave an angry cry as he caught the opponent off guard at his throat, slamming him into a reluctant body of a tree. Its head shook in objection, a scornful smack given by a gust of wind right after. The rustling stopped. Walter pressed his throat against the thick bark as he gave a threatening look with ground teeth of hate. The enemy winced, a deviant eye watching Walter's face closely, as if begging for another chance, all the while, not really. "Spit it out," Walter demanded before throttling him. "Why are you after us specifically? We have nothing of relevance that you need, or want, for that matter," Walter pointed out.
The enemy scoffed, despite his position in the matter. "For one and only one purpose," the enemy spoke through a choked voice. He didn't care for his voice, either, as if he knew Walter really didn't have the guts to kill him. However, if he really thought that, he would be wrong. Horridly wrong. "You are humans born and raised in a normal society, correct?"
Walter said nothing. That guess was completely wrong. If only he knew, Walter thought through narrowed and hateful eyes. Fingers clenched the crusty, sickly throat tighter. The enemy derided. "Therefore, you are not capable of understanding true pain," the rival spoke without sense.
"What?" Walter asked in anger. Just hearing those words being spoken to him didn't make sense. How would he know? I don't know pain!? Walter's odium fingers threatened even more. They were so close to his Adam's apple now, the palm pressing against it like crushing a rock. The enemy strained a tiny bit, all the while noticed with a Water Minor's smirk of satisfaction. Satisfaction wasn't enough in this greedy world.
"Just as I thought," the enemy spoke naively. "Humans misjudge things all the time for what things really are," the discolored one spoke through strangled, weak, daring lips. Fingerprints tightened, if possible. "It is easy to say that they jump to conclusions. Take for example, my two axes." Eric watched the love axe for example, half its face glimmering guiltily in the sunlight, a fake innocence, bathing in the sunlight of leisure as it blade smiled evilly, just as evilly as its owner. The challenger held the hate axe in his hand, where it had been from the start. This one bathed in the innocent shadows, not the least bit innocent. "Together, they look the same, but in reality, they are labeled hate and love. Why must we judge these things so much with our greedy, selfish hands? We have even confused two of the simplest things in the world," the adversary spoke, peering once at the love axe, then to the hate axe. They were immobile at the moment, waiting for command.
Eric looked down, as if realizing something. Brown eyes peered to the even ground as if fishing for answers in the thick, brown sea of no fish and fossils. Bait was useless. "That's why I don't die," the enemy began again. Walter scoffed inside his head. He didn't really feel like spitting all over the adversary's face and disgusting the matter even further. "That's why I'll stay alive until I see with my own eyes the pain dealt to the world that the world has dealt to me in the past!" Walter really felt like he could choke the guy to death right now. The two hid in the shadow of an innocent tree, the sun unable to reach or see them, a disappointed customer.
It's only fair, after all, the antagonist thought in his mind as he waited the hateful fingers around his throat to loosen. After loving him as a brother most of my life… he went ahead and did something so controversy to our connection like that…he thought sadly. He imagined his brother's childhood face. Being only one year older, he had the looks of a girl, a long brown set of hair in front of him like a rope of rescue, ironic to what he did to this one. His eyes were innocent and fun-loving, a decay of his actual innocence when it all began – an innocence that made a lawyer gullible. My love for him turned out to be nothing but hate, he realized.
"You're wrong," Eric's voice eavesdropped suddenly. Walter's eyes stretched in their sockets as he turned his head away for a second to peer at his teammate. His face was all serious, locked in a tight grind of hate. "We don't confuse love and hate. We do understand pain. I know what love is. It's when you care for someone… and I know what hate is too, probably even better than you do. These two things are easily distinguished!" Eric declared.
Turning back to Walter and Walter turning back to him, the enemy began to reply. "That may be true," he said in his stressed position. His voice carried no admittableness. "However, something like that does not pay my debt!" he went back to his first purpose, angering Walter. Before he could do anything, the enemy commanded the love axe to swing forward. With obedience, it began to spin wildly through the air again and slice dust. It approached Walter, and he had to get away. There was no time for throttling. Water bullets pulsed from Walter's back and the first one missed, dodged. The second one made a direct hit, though, and stalled the path of it. Walter dodged, at the right second, only to have the enemy free of strangulation and catching the axe in his commanding, officious hand.
Walter jumped many feet away, cautioning himself. His sandals made a hateful scraping against the dirt and dust surface. With a swing of readiness, the opponent let go of his love axe once more and let it swing wildly through the air. The disking axe approached Walter eagerly. It trailed against the ground like a yo-yo, and Walter, being the quick and talented one, dodged away. He jumped high in the sky and fell back to Eric's side. The yo-yo of an axe was drawn back in to the clearing dust. The enemy was now comfortable on his own feet and peeled himself off the unhappy tree of decomposing happiness. His stumbled, weak steps approached them only by a few inches.
He has a purpose as well, Eric thought, readying his feet in preparation and caution.
However, ours interfere with his, Walter thought as he clenched his fists, bringing them together close to his face in meticulousness. He stationed his legs and feet just like Eric, thinking the same thing as he. In that case, I'll kill him.
In order to protect the ones I care about, I must live. In order to live, I have to beat this guy. I have to stop him, no matter what the cost. If I die, hopefully, I'll be the only one, being able to protect the ones around me. Eric stationed himself better.
PoVS
Marissa's piercing voice screamed through the lake. One could swear that it caused ripples. The Sound Minor stared in horror as the blood leaked out in a long scar across a chest, a chopping hand in the air making the long cut, nails beastly. A long, psychotic smile went with broadened eyes of the opponent, half his body still in water. His mermaid-like body splashed the water as the top part of his body was discolored eerily into a periwinkle-like gray. A satisfied grin watched the drops of blood swim out like weak, no pressure bullets.
Rick fell to the floor beside the enemy as the adversary swam back into the water, the ripples slowly calming. His arms lay at his side, lost purpose of protection behind his closed eyes as an elongated cut across his body showed it, pouring out blood like a horrid faucet of fear. He was unconscious now. Marissa eyes shuddered in their sockets in blank horror, body petrificant. A delicate hand covered her mouth, hauling her churned stomach of nausea.
"Damn it!" Lance cried to Marissa as he stood at the side of the like, carefully watching the lake in the corner of his eye. "I told you to stay back!"
"I'll take care of him," Marissa volunteered, sickly carrying his body with unsteady feet to a faraway place from the lake by the empty, bald trees. Lance sighed in somewhat satisfaction.
This isn't good, he thought. I'm getting too stressed. This week has been hell. I'm not myself – yelling in anger. I'm not even as calm as I am usually. He scanned the waters carefully, using his great eye for detail.
Rick… Marissa thought as she stared at his blank, emotionless face. Why? Why did you jump in front of the attack? She thought as she took out bandages and other equipment from the sack the Council had provided them with six days ago. She quickly began to treat the wounds the best she could with trembling hands, the sight of the wound and his condition sickening. I've never seen you so torn up… Marissa thought. No, actually… I have, she admitted.