Aftermath

[Strazio Rockwell]

“You’re a sorry state for a defendah,” a familiar voice, speaking broken English called out to Strazio.


An unwelcome visitor that Strazio did not care to indulge. Hooded and clad in ragged leather armor the man strolled towards the fallen prime, his crooked teeth shaped into a smile. Strazio stood. Damaged cords of muscles twitched and writhed beneath his skin, begging their owner to rest. The man carried an acoustic guitar, rather the remains of one, it had been smashed in half. Strazio narrowed his bloodshot eyes and glanced at the familiar guitar. Something registered in his mind, but he couldn’t put his finger on quite what it was. A subconscious realization that sent his heart into a rapid-fire drumroll.


“Fuck off Rook,” he said, “I’m not in the mood to deal with some second-rate scout.”


“Shame,” Rook answered and lowered his hood.


The man’s face shuddered and twisted as if a thousand critters were hidden under his skin. Black smoke poured from his mouth and obscured the rest of his rapidly shifting body. Bones crunched and snapped into place. Ligaments stretched and rebounded to their newfound positions. From behind the veil of smoke Demetri stepped forward. He smiled at Strazio’s confusion.


“Are you in the mood to deal with me?”


“Who the fuck are you?” Strazio asked, pointing a shaky finger at the doppelganger.


Demetri pretended to be shocked and held up the broken guitar, “why I’m your friend Demetri, want me to play you a song, I remember you liked my music.”


There was a moment of silence. A low-lying fog of smog pooled around their ankles and began to slowly rise. Strazio grinded his teeth, and clenched his fists. What little energy he had left focused itself into a torrid ball of rage that nested itself in his chest. Without a word he pointed an open palm towards the interloper. He dumped every last ounce of energy into his hand, every last scrap of rage and discontent. And were it not for his earlier tantrum it would have been a tremendous attack, but as it stood nothing more than a sparkler’s amount of lightning erupted from his fingertips. Demetri laughed and threw the shattered guitar at Strazio’s feet.


“Out of juice Strazio?”


“Bite me,” Strazio said and lowered his arm.


Coils of shadow wrapped around Demetri’s legs as he sauntered towards the weakened defender. Strazio stood his ground, full of impotence and rage. Demetri’s face crumbled into a cloud of ash, revealing a set of glowing orange eyes. Where there was once a human face there was now an expressionless mask. There was no mouth, only a triangular-shaped vent that exhaled smoke. He carried a sword, double-edged and studded with ruby flecks, across his shoulder. As he approached Strazio swung at him, a wild haymaker that carried little force. The doppleganger kicked him in the chest and sent him sprawling belly-up.


“You better banish me Nemesis,” Strazio growled, “you’ve got a large debt to pay and nothing short of the Underverse will stop me from coming to collect.”


“Do you know how many people your imputence has slain?” Nemesis asked, his voice filtered through a respirator.


Strazio did not respond.


“Quite a few,” Nemesis spoke, “you see I’ve never died before, I really should be thanking you, that week I spent waiting to be resurrected gave me time to think, you want to know what I thought about Strazio?”


Strazio turned his head away.


“Not even a guess? You’re a lot more reasonable without your powers,” the hunter paused to chuckle and then continued, “I thought about vengeance Strazio, and you know what I did once I was reborn? I went back to your little watchtower, and you would not believe how disapointed I was to discover that neither you nor your friend were there, but instead a bunch of greenhorns, and I tortured every last one of them, you know what they told me? They told me that you had left for Dante’s Abyss and your friend had been promoted. Well I couldn’t just follow you to D.A. so I found our dear friend Rook and used his likeness to infiltrate Darkshire, you see, I’m very patient and this moment is my reward.”


“Just kill me already,” Strazio responded and raised his middle finger.


“If you insist.”


Nemesis raised his sword, bisecting the sky above his prey. Strazio kept his eyes open and fixed upon the sharp edge, a familiar look of frustration painted across his face. Of all the deaths he had experienced in the Omniverse, this one was by far the most insulting. Without fanfare the hunter swung, cleaving through the air. It took a moment for Strazio to register what had happened. The point of the blade stopped mere inches from his forehead. Wrist thick vines coiled themselves around the blade, and pulled against Nemesis keeping it locked in place.


“Now now, we’ve had enough death for one day,” a lyrical voice called out through the smog.


Prancing through the shadows came a man clad in green. His robe, which was more of a long-sleeved dress, fluttered against the slight breeze. From his wrist came the bundle of vines and as he approached they were pulled taut, keeping a constant pressure against the sword. He smiled a sweet smile and waved at the two combatants.


“Wouldn’t you agree?” he asked Nemesis.


“Who the hell are you?” Nemesis shot back.


The green man smiled and bowed, “my name is Valerie LaMolle, normally I’d offer to shake your hand, but given the current state of affairs I’m under the impression that would be ill-advised.”


“You’re not going to save him,” Nemesis responded and tried to free his blade, “he was dead the moment he messed with me.”


“Ah, your tenacity is quite lovely,” Val chirped, “wouldn’t you agree Strazio? You always seem to make the most wonderful friends.”


“Either kick his ass or fuck off Valerie,” Strazio shouted, crawling out from underneath the blade