A/N: Wow! i cant beleive how many reviews i'm getting. I officially love you guys! Umm.. i better thank a few people-
wingedfighter- thank YOU for reviewing me! i wouldnt be writing this chappy if it wernt for you and everyone else reviewing me.
Sorrelpaw- im glad you like it
chloe-bee-123- i cant wait to write it
the-Upside-Of-Down-he he i try. definatly awesum faxness to come!
Fluffy Otters- i love your veiw on erasers! its just what i was thinking.. and yeah the rest of it- big wow scary Fang. it's gonna be fun :P
Jason Strong- yeah i noticed that too, sorry bout that! i had to check this one 5 times over... snores
Gabby510- i promise to update pretty soon! (dont shoot me..)
And not to mention everyone else who read it! thankyou!! Anyways, i love you all- hope you like cliffies!! laughs manicly mwahahahahahaaaa..."Hello boys," I growl in my gruff Eraser voice, grinning at them wickedly.
"Miss me?"
My life is made up of a strange balance. I walk, talk, even look like a normal nineteen year old boy. I soar like a bird and my mind is at one with the sky. I am free. But when I let the fury I have inside me take hold, I turn into something from your darkest nightmares. I turn into a monster of chaos; of anger.
I turn into something evil.
Now, I am in the state of my rage where nothing and no one can stop me. Somewhere in my mind, I am still watching but I am not in control. My prey below look so funny to me now, playing with their little toy guns. The slighter one drops his, and a small cloud of red dust swirls up around his legs. He looks up at me, eyes wide.
Ask me now, can Erasers feel fear? Yes they can. Basic emotions are not void to even cruellest of Erasers. Fear, shame, disappointment, hope, joy, pride… even love surfaces briefly from behind our masks of rage.
And in case you were wondering, yes, Erasers also feel pain.
I dig my claws into the whitish branch and let myself drop off backwards. Using the motion of my swing, I let go of the limb and my boots collide heavily with the unarmed Eraser. He staggers backwards a few steps, clenching his stomach in agony. I land as gracefully as an Eraser can and glance over to the man. As I watch on, he coughs up a discharge of blood and mucus. His eyes role up into his skull and he collapses to the floor, scattering red dust everywhere.
I don't stop to take up the automatic rifle my prey dropped earlier. Call me old fashion, but I'd prefer a good one on one over a shoot out any day. Firearms are messy, and unnecessary in my case. Besides, four people die accidentally in America from a shot fired from their own gun… per hour. How many die from their own fists? Err, none?
I feel a heavy blow to the back of my head. It was hard, but nowhere near enough force to take me down. I turn and smile eerily at the other Eraser, now pointing his gun at my chest. He's not going to be the fourth this hour to die from a shot out of his own gun. But he will die.
"You are pathetic," I spit out, studying him as his hands tremble over his rifle. He just stares at me.
He thinks he's relatively safe behind that hunk of metal. Itex trains them like that now. You morph into a great, big wolf man with sharp claws and vicious teeth, but we want you to use this pea shooter instead. Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose of creating an Eraser?
"Once, you would have RIPPED-" I kick the gun sharply out of his hands and a shot rings out, causing the native birds to scatter, "…my head, from my NECK!"
I cracked a fist into his side lazily, making him lose his balance a little and gasp in pain. I stood back, politely letting him recuperate a little.
"Your weak," I growl, grabbing a fist full of his hair and looking into his black eyes.
"You were a warrior…but you let them cage you like an anim-!" He recovers quicker than I'd expected, going for a swipe at my stomach, ending my little rant.
I block him easily and we break apart, but not before I get a punch to his stomach. He bends over double in agony. I walk forward indolently, taking his head between my palms. I smash his head into my knee powerfully. As he falls backwards, I kick him in the chest. He drops roughly to the dirt, all fight gone from his eyes. Blood trickles down from his hairline, mixing with the sweat of his temple. He lies there in the dirt panting, his eyes raised to the searing Aussie sun.
I kneel down beside him, searching his face for the small trace of hope that keeps us half human. That light in his eye that tells me whether he has something to live for; something to die for. That his life is not wasted.
But his eyes hold nothing. No hope, no passion; he is alone.
"You fought well," I mutter, taking his head in my hands. With a swift wrench of his neck, I end his lonesome life. His breath leaves him in a slow sigh; the black pools of his eyes swallow the reflection of the suns rays.
My anger is gone now, burring it's way back into the shadows of my mind. It is relieved for another few days. As I slowly slip back into my human form, I pant and stare into those blank eyes. His eyes only reflect my own, I think solemnly to myself. When my enemies finally get me, will they see the glint of hope in my eyes? Or will they see a life wasted? What do I live for now?
Who would care if I died?
"Fang, are you alright? Are you hurt?" I snap my head up and I spin, my eyes falling on the tall blond girl striding towards me. My eyes widen, my heart skips a beat.
"Max?" I whisper, hopefully.
