BOK CHOI
Hollyshadow the medicine cat: I don't know why you keep thinking dark thoughts...maybe for the same reason I think them? XD and no, I didn't forget about Claire. Not at all.
Shimmering-Sky: I'll give you a hint: it's diabolically obvious once you figure it out. As in, it will all click together once I reveal what they're talking about. And yes, Tiz/Agnes is fantastic.
Chapter 22: First off, if any of you haven't read Catch-22 yet, it's an amazing and rather funny book. A real classic. If any of you haven't even HEARD of it...um...where have you been?
Anyway...in short, a Hellspawn attacks and Descole has to stop it. He does. With a little help.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sacred Sword
"You two unpack first. I need to talk to Bloom first," Bronev said.
Emmy nodded, while Descole simply ignored the man and trudged up the stairs.
Suddenly, the loud slam of a door rang echoed through the house, startling everyone, even Hanna (who was in the kitchen).
Emmy and Bronev looked at each other. "I'll check on him," Emmy said. She rushed to Descole's designated room and knocked on the door. "Descole?" The word still seemed foreign when used nicely. "Open the door."
"Why the bloody hell should I?" Descole retorted.
It seems even Descole swears! I learn something new every day, Emmy thought to herself. "I want to talk to you."
The door slowly creaked open to reveal an apparently angry Descole (judging by the lower half of his face-he always kept his mask on). "You better make this quick," he grumbled.
Emmy walked in. "What's wrong, Descole?"
"Nothing! At all!" Descole gritted his teeth.
"I can tell something is."
"I'm telling you, it's nothing!"
"Well, I don't believe you."
"Maybe you should!"
"Descole, why don't you just-"
"FINE!" Descole spat. "You know what's wrong!? You! And your uncle!"
"What!?" Emmy retorted indignantly. "You're throwing a tantrum because we're in the same house as you? Can't I trust you to behave and not cause trouble everywhere you go?"
At this, Descole fell quiet.
"There. See, being sensible isn't so-"
"You're one to talk about trust, Altava." Descole was shaking. "Not even Hershel can trust you."
Now it was Emmy's turn to fall silent.
"Do you know how much you hurt him, Altava?" Descole sneered. "He saw you as more than an assistant. You were his equal. And then you turned out to be nothing more than a pawn...for Targent," Descole hissed.
"Just remember, Altava...just because Hershel forgave you...doesn't mean I will."
"And why the hell would I care about your forgiveness? This is between me and the Professor!"
"Of course you wouldn't care about my forgiveness. Since when have you cared about anything?" Descole scowled. "Now GET OUT!"
Before Emmy could reply, she was pushed out of the room and the door slammed shut in her face.
"Where are you going, Descole?" Bronev asked.
"Out."
"Where, exactly?"
"Out."
Bronev sighed. "Suit yourself. Be back for dinner."
"I'll get dinner myself," Descole responded curtly. The front door shut with a bang.
Descole had decided he would dress as Desmond Sycamore today-it was his most natural appearance, since it was technically himself. Walking down the street, he thought to himself, having nothing else to do.
Trust. So many things to so many different people.
You can trust someone to get a job done. You can trust a friend. You can trust a colleague. You can trust your family. Or you should be able to...
Descole gritted his teeth as he remembered just whom his family consisted of.
To some, trust means reliance, friendship, and safety. To others, trust means you are counting on someone else. To the purely objective, trusting someone means what they tell you is true. Some people cannot afford to trust anyone.
And for my brother?
Trust is not so complicated: everyone is a good, trustworthy human being in his mind. And along comes Altava...
Claire devastated Hershel, but Altava...she was life's way of confirming his fate of loneliness, of teaching him the lesson he'd never properly learned:
Trust no one.
Because no one deserves your trust, brother.
Not even me.
And at this thought, Descole no longer particularly desired to eat much of anything.
A scream from a nearby woman shook him out of his pensive mood.
"Look! Up there!" The other pedestrians looked and gasped.
A looming figure was perched atop Big Ben, staring down at the pitiful city beneath its feet. Pathetic creatures...why did Inimae send me for such a trivial task?
Well, making a statement will be quite easy.
Yawning, it spread its dragonlike wings and swooped down, terrifying the populace.
"I'm quite hungry..." it whispered maliciously. "I think I could use a snack!" Grabbing a man, it casually consumed him in one bite.
Only Descole seemed to be impassive as he watched the disturbing scene. But what happened next managed to startle him.
A sword hilt was forced into his palm. "You know what to do," someone whispered into his ear. "This sword is...special." Whipping his head around, Descole saw no one. What the hell?
Meanwhile, the demon was still taunting the defenseless humans. "Mm...I'm still hungry...who's next?"
"Me."
The demon turned to face Descole, sword in hand, wearing his usual mask-and-cape outfit.
"It's quite pathetic how you threaten these people who can't even defend themselves. A wolf who spends all day scaring sheep is not very productive! Why don't you fight someone your own level for a change?" Descole idly traced patterns in the air with his rapier.
A raspy chuckle was elicited. "You humans amuse me. You think you're on my level? Why, I could easily roast you in a split second...like this!" The Hellspawn opened its jaws and torrents of flame spewed out.
However, Descole's sword glowed reddish-purple, absorbing all of the Hellfire and leaving Descole untouched.
"What is this sorcery!?" The demon shrieked.
Descole gave a sound of approval. "Hm. So that's what it does."
"It is of no importance. My business does not concern you, human!" The great beast flew up and over a nearby building, Descole following him on the ground.
The demon was burning a massive trail of destruction, incinerating stores, roads, and basically anything solid (or liquid, for that matter).
Finally, in the middle of a circle of buildings, the demon landed in front of its pursuer.
"Fine, insolent rat," the demon hissed. "If you truly wish for an early demise, then I will be happy to oblige!"
A large circle of fire was created around the area.
This is a duel, Descole realized. To the death.
He can't hit me with fire attacks, meaning he'll have to use his claws, but on the other hand I don't know how strong this sword is...it looks very old...hopefully it doesn't break.
Descole's thoughts were rudely interrupted by a large claw attempting to slash through his entire body. Descole leapt backwards to dodge it, but this proved to be not such a great idea as more and more slashes followed. Descole was already on the defensive, and he hadn't even gotten a single hit in yet.
Finally, the Hellspawn overcommitted to a swipe and Descole capitalized, darting around the Hellspawn and forcing the Hellspawn to react to his blows rather than vice versa.
Unfortunately, the Hellspawn proved to be a much nimbler fighter than he'd thought.
Descole lunged at the demon, who merely sidestepped and tried to grab Descole's leg as he flew by. Luckily, Descole moved his leg just in time.
The demon's next blow was swiftly parried, and Descole twisted, breaking the deadlock and landing a blow on the demon's wing.
But when Descole tried to further weaken the already crippled wing, the demon's claw slashed at Descole's shoulder, connecting and causing a good deal of pain.
My injuries are hindering me much more than his are hindering him...I have to wait for a good opportunity; rushing will only get me hit.
Descole thus stayed slightly farther away from the Hellspawn, waiting for the attack.
The Hellspawn charged at Descole, clearly with the intention of ending the fight immediately. He must be more weakened than he looks.
Descole jumped out of the way and then swiftly punctured the demon's other wing.
What he didn't expect, however, was the demon to turn back around at inhuman speed (which made sense, since it technically wasn't human) and land a heavy blow on his ribcage. Descole winced.
This isn't working...I have to come up with a different plan, and it has to work quickly!
With no other plan in sight, Descole did the one thing he was always good at: deceive the enemy.
He dropped to his knees, panting, his back slumped.
"What's the matter?" The Hellspawn sneered. "Tired already?"
"N-no," Descole wheezed.
"A pity. I was almost enjoying our little battle. But, sadly for you, this is where it ends!" The demon raised his claw and attempted to crush Descole.
But Descole, who, of course, was merely pretending to be weary, dashed forwards to dodge the finishing blow.
The demon didn't even have time to voice its surprise before it was stabbed in the chest. Blood gushed out.
Hm. Even demons have hearts, Descole mused. Not particularly good ones, but still. His body then realized how exhausted it was (his fatigue was not completely fake), and he collapsed.
Taking one last look at his surroundings, Descole stopped and stared in horror.
The flames had spread everywhere. Everywhere around him, there was fire. In the distance he could make out the noise of a siren.
Then his world, the flames, the agony of broken bones, the smoke, all faded to black.
Finally, yo. I got dis chapter out. Yore welcome. I suck at writing battle scenes.
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