Helping

Excerpt from longer story. A mercenary is hurt, and an old friend (who's also the Antichrist) decides he can help.

The sound of his heavy boots slapping the pavement as he ran was an unwelcome sound. It was past midnight, and darkness draped the sky like a curtain. He was panting, muttering obscenities to himself as he readied to jump the black iron gate surrounding the mansion he was looting. The treasures were stashed in his canvas bag. The dick he was robbing had guard cougars, which he decided right then and there was a lot worse than dogs. They were growling with menace, foaming at the mouth. He planted his feet on the gate, swinging up and over. He hit the sidewalk on the other side with a sickening crunch.

He was hurt, badly. The cougars shoved their faces through the spaces in the gate, snapping at him. He crawled back a few inches, hoping they would eventually give up and go away. His right arm was broken, he could tell by the bone sticking out of it. His left ankle was probably broken as well. He never even noticed the blood trickling down his face. He decided he would try escape anyways; one of the stupidest ideas he ever had.

Stumbling and limping, he was breathing even harder, vision going fuzzy at the edges. He was losing a lot of blood, and he managed to make his way into an alleyway, ripping off the edge of his shirt and sloppily tying it around his arm, which did nothing. He leaned back into the back wall of a strip club, letting the black wash over him.

...

“Well I'll be,” a voice said from above him. Christophe peeled his eyes open, seeing the grin of one Damien, the Antichrist. His eyebrows had been plucked to a less thick line, and his raven hair swooped down to cover his left eye. “If it isn't Christophe. Haven't seen you since you were dead.”

“I would love to talk,” he lied, each word an effort to say. He had to ignore the pain, he had to. “But...I...I...” he grit his teeth, trying not to scream from the migraine he was experiencing.

“Oh,”Damien said, now noting the various wounds on the smaller boy's body. “You're human, I forgot. You feel pain.” he squinted, peering at it. “I could heal you, if you demand it from me.”

“What ze 'ell are you talking about, Antichrist?” he asked, not wanting to deal with whatever he was up to.

“Say my full name, and then ask me to heal you. I can't heal you on my own, I'm a demon, that would be doing good. But if you force me to...”

“D-damien Thorne,” Christophe panted, the blood loss taking its toll again. “heal me.”

Damien smiled, placing his hands mere centimetres above his arm, a light glowing from his palms, the bone mending itself. It closed, leaving only a white scar to show it was there. He quickly moved on to his ankle, his forehead, anything else that was left bleeding.His fingers barely brushed his skin, the magic lacing its way through all the hurt. 

The pain melted at Damien's fingertips, and Christophe was grateful. “Thank you, you arrogant b*****d,” he said, one of two times he would ever say those two words. The second time would be at his own funeral, but that's a different story for another time.

“Well, that's something I'd never thought I'd-” Damien's sentence was interrupted by several growls. The pack of guard cougars were waiting at the entrance of the alleyway, having tracked the mercanary for hours. “What the f**k?”

The cougars lunged towards the pair, jaws open wide. Christophe took out his shovel from his strap, ready to strike, but not having the energy for it. They were just about to bite, when a surge of black fire exploded from the Antichrist's fingertips, enveloping them in flames. Damien's fingers were pulsing white, and he breathed heavily; magic of that capacity took a lot from him, he was still a rookie at it. The cougars melted into a puddle of goo, that disappeared underground. Christophe cursed, turning towards the demon boy and lighting up a cigarette, sticking it in his mouth and taking a deep drag. After he was slightly relaxed, he sighed.

“Damien, would you like to join me on mercenary missions?”

Author's Note

This is an excerpt from a fanfic of mine (don't judge me!) and I just thought I'd post this for good fun. Remember how I said I'll post some actual stories? I lied.

Reviews

[roarke]

with talent like yours and you are writing fanfic???
Oh the humanity..... It was a fun little twitch, a literary facial tic.... the most important thing is I read you had FUN with it. that's the most important when writing this type of genre. It brought back shades of Mike Lamb and that's no mean praise.