Zeke kept his shaking fists raised in front of him.
Violet was his opponent in the moonlit autumn. She was fuzzy in his vision, with his swelling eye pushing his eyelids closed.
Zeke ate another strike to the lip and wobbled back but stayed on his feet.
Violet’s cardigan dropped to the grass. “You need to hit back, Rulitos,” she said nonchalantly.
Fighting was natural for her. The most fighting Zeke had done was registered in the international leaderboards of Blitz Fighter, extending to the real-life brawl he had against Raylan and his friends. He had help, but he still did it—tapping into that spontaneous burst of rage from before was what he needed to survive.
Another fist came flying in his direction; Zeke blocked it.
“Bueno!” Violet said.
She swung a kick to Zeke’s side. He blocked again and spun forward. He stopped behind Violet, and as she turned around, Zeke bashed into her with his shoulder. Violet dropped face-first into the green plastic single slide.
She turned over and launched a kick at Zeke. It was a clear hit on his jaw. He jerked back as she pulled herself up, charged at Zeke, and grabbed his curls. “My Rulitos,” she said and smiled.
Violet hauled Zeke over to the slide and slammed his head onto the side. His entire skull vibrated. He yawped, and when he realized Violet was pulling his head up just to do it again, he grabbed her wrist and twisted it as hard as he could.
Violet let go of his hair and squealed in delight. “That’s it, Rulitos!”
Zeke released his grip, and Violet immediately caught his throat. He weaved back, trying to shake off her grip, dragging her along. He brought his hands together and shoved her back with all his strength. Violet’s hand slipped from his throat, and she slammed onto the slide.
Unintentional self-harm followed as Zeke stumbled and hit a jungle gym bar right in the center of his spine, making a loud ding. He curled up and let out a sharp cry.
Before he had the chance to recover, Violet came at him again, throwing a powerful fist. He moved out of the way, and she punched a jungle gym bar.
Violet shrieked.
“Vee, are you okay—?”
“Don’t ask if I’m okay!” Violet interrupted and struck him with a punch. “This is a fight!”
Violet’s smile extended. She was having stupid fun and sped up. She unleashed an onslaught of punches and kicks. Zeke scrambled back as he battled with the flurry of attacks. He took more hits than he could block.
Every attack he attempted, Violet blocked and did a reversal maneuver.
The world kept flashing black for Zeke like he was a kid playing with a light switch. Every blow he took forged a burst of pain, and at one point, his body just ached altogether.
An opening revealed itself, allowing Zeke to push Violet away and make a break for it. His persistent opponent chased after him, cutting through the distance quickly. Zeke veered to the playground platform, ran up the ramp, zipped across the catwalk bridge, and his body shut down, forcing him to stop and hunch over.
Violet showed up on the other side of the bridge. “Tired already?”
A rattled Zeke fought to catch his breath. “Please don’t say, ‘We’re just getting started.’”
“All that pop culture knowledge and you can’t use any of it to win this fight?” Violet shook her head and put her hands on her hips. “With the Seals broken, do you have any idea what monstrosities are going to be crossing over?”
Zeke put his hands over his knees. “You never explained what the ‘Seal’ is, by the way.”
Violet’s playful overtone wiped away, and she groaned. “You remember what I said about the Deliverer and Damned, right?” She said and sighed like a teacher, frustrated with having to re-explain material over and over to the same student. “Every generation’s Deliverer has executed a noble task on a universal scale, as for every generation’s Damned has committed a heinous act that transcended all Realms. The Thirteenth Tainted Generation of Healers were the ones who left the biggest mark on history. The Thirteenth’s Deliverer is the one who set up the Great Seal, and the Thirteenth’s Damned was said to be the most dangerous human being in all of existence. The Great Seals were why you never saw unicorns and fairies frolicking around. They kept creatures from other Realms from crossing over to Earth. Recently, someone broke it.”
“Why would anyone do that?”
“I don’t know. I’m not mad about it. It doesn’t concern me. I am curious about how it was done, though. I’d love to hear the story that made the angels look like incompetent morons.”
“Do you have a theory?”
“Hm. All I know for sure is that one person couldn’t have done it alone. Multiple people were behind the plot.”
Zeke paused. He could breathe normally again—close to normal, anyway. Any minor alleviation of the excruciating discomfort was normal, but the pain all over was insurmountable at this point. “Tell me the titles of the other members of the Tainted Generation,” he demanded.
“You can find that out yourself, Rulitos,” Violet said. “I am done playing Miss Exposition.” She waved her hand while making that magic sign of hers—her middle and ring finger lowered with her thumb, forefinger, and pinky erect. “Neurpatia,” she said. The robe materialized on her once again.
Zeke panicked as Violet directed the hand sign at him. He knew he had to run, but the pain was so intense that he couldn’t even lift a foot. The lobe-esque sigil appeared on the grass to his side. He looked over at it as it radiated its sinister glow. The chair rose from its center. The straps of the chair extended to the sky. There was nowhere to run, so he let the straps take him and reel him in. He flipped over the edge of the bridge and hit the grass. The sentient straps dragged him along and pulled him up to the chair, forcing him into a seated position. They wrapped around his legs, torso, arms, and neck and constricted his movement entirely. Unable to squirm or writhe, Zeke just sobbed as he trembled.
Violet hopped off the catwalk bridge and onto the grass with grace as if she weighed nothing.
“I thought you said ‘no magic,’” Zeke said.
Violet shrugged. “I changed my mind.” She stopped once she was just a foot away from Zeke. “Can’t you hear it, your Healer’s Garb yelling its name from within your soul?”
All he could hear was his body and soul screaming in terror and agony. His trembling worsened when he noticed Violet slipping her hands into her robe. “Violet! Please, no!” He cried.
Without hesitation, she pulled out her hammer and purple pick. “How much do you know about the transorbital lobotomy? Have you ever read up on that?”
Zeke blubbered like a child. He shook from the sensation of hot tears falling down his cheeks and blood spilling from his quivering lip.
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No anesthesia…
Violet leaned forward and waved the pick in front of him. “They call this an orbitoclast. It goes behind your eye socket, and with the hammer, I can break through an annoying layer of bone and have the pick access your frontal lobes.”
“Why are you doing this?” He said.
“Are you scared, Rulitos?”
Zeke heaved heavily and nodded. “Yes, and it hurts.”
“The straps aren’t hurting you, you know. This spell isn’t my Hellfire Variant—”
“Everything hurts, Violet!” Zeke interrupted. “The punches, the kicks, the way you’re treating me. Why?” He stopped to expel wet, bloody coughs. He lowered his head and mumbled, “I thought you liked me.”
Violet straightened her posture. “I do—”
“I knew that couldn’t be true!” Zeke interrupted once again. “That’s why you never gave me a straight answer or cleared up anything! You ignored my texts... online messages... emails... even freaking regular mail. I used every single means of communication I could get my hands on to contact you, and you’re telling me you couldn’t find a single second in that boarding school of yours to text back? You didn’t because you don’t care! You don’t care about me. Of course, you don’t. There’s nothing special about me, and you’re… amazing. Something I could never be. So, you were right to abandon me. I deserve it for being useless. I deserve this humiliation because I am nothing. I’m nothing to you, aren’t I, Violet?”
Silence filled the air. Somehow, Zeke’s brain shut off the throbbing and pulsating sounds his body made to grant him a moment of silence.
Violet sank to her haunches and looked up at Zeke. She pulled down her mask and hood and revealed a peculiar expression. “I do like you, Zeke,” she said. “I always have, but there’s just one major flaw about you I couldn’t set aside.” She bared her teeth. “You’re too weak. A nervous wreck who waits for someone to save the day.” She poked his head. “But you’re brilliant. I’ve seen it myself. That brain of yours can do wonders. If only you had the confidence and strength to back it all up. It would be the best, Rulitos. If you were more like me, we’d work together to exterminate the angel scum.
“When I discovered my magic, the first thing I thought of was going to you, and that’s why Transportation spells were the first I mastered. I visited you and Ugo and AJ a lot more than you think, but after learning about how complicated my life would become, I knew I couldn’t get you guys involved. Everything changed the day I felt your Mana Pores open. Yours and Ugo’s. You have no idea how excited I was to learn that you were a part of the Tainted Generation, Ezequias.”
Zeke looked back at her, and she was still blurry in his vision. He blinked the tears away.
“Honestly, just the thought of us fighting together against the angels makes me excited and happy,” Violet said. “I would love for something like that to be real. It’s possible for you to get stronger. What you lack is proper motivation, so that is why I won’t help you, Rulitos.”
“Why are you hurting me then?”
“Hatred, Ezequias. Not the kind you usually let bubble inside of you and just complain about to Ugo. The ardent kind that drives you to work to become stronger to get revenge on all those who wronged you.”
Zeke studied Violet and reached a conclusion. It’s official. Violet is insane.
“But, in this case, that would mean: hatred toward you,” Zeke said.
“I’ve learned to live with that,” she said.
“I don’t want to hate you, Violet.”
Violet put her hands over Zeke’s. “I want you to come after me for revenge, Rulitos.” Her eyes widened. “I’d love to see a more powerful version of you before me, on the brink of destroying me, and only then… I would happily accept you as mine and become yours equally.” She pecked him on his cheek.
Zeke smiled and hated himself for doing so, but he smiled.
Violet stood up and waved her hand. The sigil and chair disappeared in an instant. Zeke flopped onto his back. Violet produced a craggy stone about the size of her fist from her cloak, flung it at Zeke, and landed on his side. He inspected it. It was gray, and its long root-like lines made it look like a piece of brain matter.
“That’s another invention of mine,” Violet said. “The Communicator Lobe. It has been adjusted so that when you think of me and speak directly into it, I can get the message no matter which Realm I am in. I may have that tracking spell on you, but to be honest... I’m not always listening. I just said that to comfort you.”
Zeke gripped the stone. “How about if you just decide to change your mind again?”
“Then, that sucks for you,” she said.
He went silent for a moment. “You said… ‘No matter which Realm I am in.’ Are you going on an inter-dimensional tour or something?”
“Yep. This Realm is boring. I have traveled to the other Realms on multiple occasions already. We, of the Tainted Generation, don’t get affected by the Seal. Recently, I’ve decided to leave the Realm of Mortals for good.”
“What about your parents?”
“They’ll be fine. I’ll leave a note explaining that I just ran away from home. They found me to be a great hindrance, anyway.”
“That’s awful…”
Violet glared down at him. “That miserable, wimpy look of yours. I just want it gone. When you finally get it. You’ll thank me. We’ll fight together. Be together.”
“What?” Zeke muttered.
“Until then…” Violet raised her hand, making a fist. Zeke flinched. She opened her hand, and the barrier slowly dissolved. Violet kneeled to Zeke and cupped his face in her hand — healing his wounds with the restorative glow, and then tended to the aches on his shoulders, arms, legs, chest, and throat.
Zeke was restored once again.
Violet leaned toward him and cleaned off the blood on his lip and chin with her cloak. A warmth expanded in his chest, and his heartbeat sped up as she got closer.
She pulled back too soon and got back on her feet. “Good luck on the case,” she said tenderly, walking away.
----------------------------------------
Zeke wandered the streets of Blackmarsh Grove in excellent condition, body-wise. As for his mental state… It was a disaster.
Blinding memory flashes of the battle made him falter in his steps. Replays of his screams of pain and bawlings, the thuds and cracks of fists hitting bone and boots bashing muscle, made him shudder. Saffron leaves blanketed the ground on either side of him, pieces blowing away from the pile from time to time. A rich autumnal scenery enhanced with erect lampposts accompanied him along the way, yellow globs of light escorting him in the dark. The lights made the leaves ablaze with a golden brown glow. He kicked away some leaves in the way just as a mighty bell rang.
The angels emerged from the darkness.
Zeke flinched and cowered back. He winced at the sight of the horrifying twin female angels, each disfigured. They stood atop the gray stone pillars of the Resurrect Haven Church of Christ’s entrance. The tall iron, black gates between the pillars produced a ghostly howl as the wind blew through its rails.
He stopped to analyze the old marble statues. They looked like young women. The one on the right had half its face broken off and cracks sprawling across the remaining half. The one on the left had black streaks lined down from its eyes and mouth — the most bizarre formation of black mold he had ever seen. They held a crude smile, hunched over with their broken stone wings spread, and peered down at him with playful malice.
Past the gates, the Resurrect Haven Church of Christ stood proud and stared at him. It was the Noble family’s church. The modern architecture was large and stunning but not too flashy to maintain that suburban humbleness. Zeke looked up the rising steeple and observed the marble white angel blowing a golden horn perched at the top of the spire. He scowled at the sight and directed that scowl at the angels nearby.
“Hezekiah?” A hoarse voice said.
Zeke heaved a sigh and slowly turned around.
Isaac’s expression was twisted with concern. “Are you okay? You seem… distraught.” He pulled his hands out of the pockets of his long coat and gestured at the church. “Why don’t you come in, and we’ll talk—”
“Issac, not now!” Zeke yelled. “I’m busy, okay?”
“It looks to me like you’ve got plenty of free time. Wandering the streets, all dazed.”
“Have you been following me?”
Isaac chuckled. “I don’t need to. We are connected.”
Zeke rolled his eyes. “Please, leave me alone.”
“Hezekiah—”
“Stop calling me that, goddammit!”
Isaac smiled nervously and shrunk back. He raised his hands. “I need to share something with you, brother.”
“What?” Zeke said, annoyed. “Just be quick, okay?”
Isaac stepped forward. “You and I were born in the same year… we are special… you’re from October, which makes you the Tenth. Um… how do I say this?”
“What are you trying to say, Isaac?”
“I am part of the same generation as you.”
Zeke didn’t respond and just stared back. He couldn’t possibly mean…
“I am the First Born of the Fourteenth Tainted Generation of Healers.” He slammed his palms against each other. “The Vicar.”