Jack’s Point of View
My Dad slowly cracks the door towards us, his eyes scanning the area. Moving softly, he leans back, nodding to my Mom. Their calm expressions indicate a sense of security. Opening the door, Dad strolls in taking note of two patrons sitting at a table with three oaken mugs of beer, and the barkeep standing behind the bar, cleaning a misty wine glass. Widening in shock, my father’s brown eyes bolt back to the three oaken mugs. With no one in sight, his face involuntarily steers towards the ground at an unnatural angle. While following the momentum of gravity, Dad puts his hand down, catching his balance on his palm, enabling him to lift both legs into a high kick. A crash reaches our ears, and my Dad jumps back onto his feet creating a javelin in his right hand. Lunging forward, the javelin escapes his grasp towards the direction of the crash. A shriek could be heard. My eyes wander towards the noise, settling in horror as an ice javelin covered in a red liquid floats in the air, dripping into a puddle.
As the red liquid expands within the air, a humanoid outline forms. The air screeches, “Damn you, Jocko! You fucking asshole.” At that, the chairs skid across the floor as the two patrons rise to their feet brandishing identical knives, silver, studded with green jade, and a leather wrap on the handle, the same type of knife that Michael had prepared to cut me with. The bartender, wearing a black corset dress puffed up over the hips reaching down to her ankles. She had rectangular glasses which she let rest on the bridge of her nose. She looks in our direction and begins, “Rebecca and Jocko, we are rather disappointed in you today. I told you where the demon was born and where he is now.”
In response, Mom quipped, “If it was Jack that gave us away, why was Travis over there ready to hit me before you even saw my son?”
“With your accomplishments, it is only natural that when you help a demon, you lose the blessing of intellect. If you were not preoccupied with offending our Lord you should have assumed that the noise you made would be heard through these wooden floorboards.” The bartender reaches down grabbing a knife tossing it in our direction. My Dad creates a rectangular scutum shield catching the knife. As the barkeep smirks, “The time for chit-chat is now over.” At that, a gust of wind plows into my Dad’s shield as one of the patrons is a wind wizard. The second patron charges forward with his shoulder out, bashing himself into the shield. In response, Dad leans backward, and using the momentum from the charge, he angles his shield above himself tossing the second patron into Travis.
My Mom yanks on my arm, causing my feet to move before I can pull myself together from the spectacle. My Dad leans down touching the floor causing a wall of ice to shoot up, cutting off the Bartender and the wizard. As the two melee mages rise, Dad rushes them with the shield up, and taking advantage of their unsteady footing, he bashes them back down onto the floor. As they scramble on top of each other, he generates a javelin stabbing the second pateron through the chest and Travis beneath him in the leg. We approach the door, my mom pulls it open, and she pushes me in front of her as I hear the ice wall behind us break. After that, the door closes. We dash by a group of women who are too startled to move. After all, if you hear screaming and witness a mother sprinting out of the building with her son, you would be startled too. However, as the day is closing, it indicates working men are on their way back home, or if they’re feeling a little lonely, maybe the pub, but either way they are on their way back with tools. The same tools that can cut wheat can cut meat and in our case, cut us. These are the main people who attract our eyes when we move through the streets of the clay buildings. As we enter a main intersection my mom tugs me backward behind the wall of a dimly lit grey building. I look at her, and she puts her finger to her mouth, shushing me. Looking at me, my Mom quietly says, “That's a group of wizards ahead, looks like they are coming back from a job. We are going to walk quickly and quietly. Nod if you understand.” I do a slow but obvious nod. We walk into the intersection, and glancing back, I notice one of the women we originally passed walk into the house we were just at. Successfully crossing the road and breaking the line of sight from the group of wizards earlier, we resume our sprint. Keeping our eyes forward, we can’t help but overhear a man shouting from the intersection, “Hurry a mage is attacking the guild hall!” I hope Dad is ok.
Taking an early turn into an alley we run past the shop I was at earlier; how can my life’s choices go from candy or toy to run or die? Why? Why me of all people? Why is life unfair to me? Why is it cursing me? Why God? Why did you decide to give me a dead man’s hand? It's unfair. However unfair it is my Mom never stops, she keeps running, and she keeps dragging me by my dead man’s hand. Rounding the corner of our street my Mom begins to speak to me. “Jack, I need you to head to Angel’s room and tell her to pack her bag quickly that we’re leaving. Then head to your room and pack your bag. Tell me when you’re done. I will be downstairs packing mine.” I nod in understanding, and we run into the house. I instantly went straight up the stairwell towards Angel’s room. Turning the iron knob, I got the pleasure of experiencing a locked door. Knocking on the door several times, with no answer, fuck. Deciding that I couldn’t wait for her to unlock the door, I took a step back and began channeling my enhancement magic into my legs. Lining up my foot towards the left of the knob, I go for a hard kick. Nothing. I repeat the same action, this time breaking the door in, but to my shock, no screaming from Angel. As panic sweeps over me, I rush inside looking for Angel, but she is nowhere to be seen. Turning on my heel, I sprint to the bottom of the staircase and orotundly say, “Mom, Angel is not home. What do we do?!”
Mom tremulously responds, “I don’t know.” With a heartbeat of a pause, she resumes, “For now, just pack your and her stuff. We’ll look for her after we are ready to go.”
Angel’s Point of View
Sitting on a rock, Angel felt the rough texture of its surface against the palms of her hands as she lowered herself down. The texture of the rock reminded her of her rough day; thinking that her birthday couldn’t get any worse after Mom forced her to do practice, she then got punished for trying to have a little fun. A little fun on her birthday! Why couldn’t Mom just relax for once and laugh? She is always trying too hard, one day her heart is going to give out with all the stress she bottles up! That's not even the worst of the day, Mom and Dad went on a job so no cake today… then the so-called brother didn’t even come home! It's my birthday! Why is life so unfair? I just wanted to spend time with everyone but no one wants to spend time with me!
Shifting her posture, Angel’s palm graces over a soft piece of moss.
Well, I guess Mom just wants to protect me in her special way. To be honest, I was a bit disrespectful earlier, too. She is just trying her best, while I am out here throwing a temper tantrum. She still needs to relax more, though. Maybe I’ll talk to her about it next time I see her. Eh, now that I think about it, I should probably apologize to her too. Actually, no I shouldn’t. It is still my birthday! While yes, Mom is looking out for me. She could at least let me relax on my birthday. I at least forgive Mom and Dad for going on a mission, right? If they had to go on a mission, it meant people’s lives were at stake; otherwise, another wizard could have taken it. Mom is so cool! I can’t wait until Guildmaster Brandon starts asking me to do special missions for him! Just imagining Jack and me hunting a magical beast and eating its exotic meat is making me hungry! I should probably head home soon. I swear if Jack fell asleep at his “secret lair” and is not home when I get back, I’ll never forgive him.
Pushing her boot off the rock, Angel stands up doing a quick stretch and some jumping jacks before she begins the short trek home.
----------------------
Heading down my street I see the lights of my home on! Looks like Jack came home! I began sprinting with glee! Reaching the yard, I began to yell, “JACK! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT MOM DID TO ME TODAY!” Swinging the door open, I am met with Jack running up to me and hugging me. “I love you too Jack!” I say with a bit of excitement in my voice.
With a tremor in his voice, “I’m just happy you’re safe.” Giving me a second bear hug I can’t help but wonder, “I wasn’t gone that long, is everything ok?”
Just as Jack opened his mouth to respond, Mom interjected, "Jack, could you grab my jewelry from the dresser?" With a swift motion, she slung a duffle bag strap over her shoulder and added, "Angel, put on your backpack." As I sat there, momentarily stunned, she tossed me my backpack.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Bounding down the stairs, Jack reappeared, a box in hand which he promptly handed to Mom. "Let's go." Mom grabbed my hand and pulled me close as she spoke. Pushing open the door with her other hand we leave the house when there is a noticeable change in the air temperature compared to when I entered. Stealing a glance at my mother’s face, she cocks her head towards the side of our house. Following her gaze I see it- a tall slim figure shrouded in a tattered black cloak, whose hood entraps all light that dares to challenge its darkness.
Chilling my bones, the horror gives me another dose. I see my Dad, once a strong man, with ample muscles in the grasp of this entity. His face contorted in excruciating pain, blood leaking from every pore of his face, as his once two arms, now one, and his legs lay limp. The figure sickeningly lurches forward, my Dad lurches forward, his movements held against his will. The figure leaning on his face, using it as a twisted cane. As the light began to pierce the darkness of the veil, a pallid and leathery skin appeared as orbs of scarlet in the center, where the eye sockets should belong.
Pulling his arm up, the figure’s mummified torso revealed itself, tattered and dirtied, but never torn. Dad being held forward, taking the spotlight from the figure, began to speak. “Awwww, is this little family going to abandon poor daddy?”
In that instant, I create a puddle of water above the figure's head. Following the laws of gravity, the water began to fall, before reaching more than a few centimeters it evaporated. The figure’s gaze drifts towards my direction.
“Rebecca, I thought you said your daughter was talented in magic? What is this pathetic excuse?”
Focusing on the string of my anger, I drop an icicle above the figure’s head. While gravity accelerated quicker than before, the result was the same. It evaporated in mere centimeters. Mom strengthens her grip while pulling me behind her.
Monotonically, my Mom says, “Azrael, what a surprise! I thought you were burying your wife.”
Nonchalantly, Azreal responds, “I was, but when I heard that little Jacky there is a demon, I just couldn’t resist the thrill of the hunt! Oh, but you see Jocko here got a little in the way.” He adjusted the grip on my father's neck, and the smell of burning flesh wafted through the air. As if the figure was taunting me, my father began to scream in agony. Turning his eyes towards Jack, “You know this is all your fault, right?”
Mom immediately interjects, “You sadistic bastard! Are you even human?”
Cranking his neck towards Mom Azreal stares until the silence is broken, “I don’t know, am I?” A flash of heat rises through the air, reigniting my Dad’s screams. The face of the man once known as Azreal began to bubble as if boiling. Each bubble popped into puss as the face began to change. The mouth slowly falls as if gravity is pulling on it. Dripping liquid from the cheeks told the true story. As the pallid and leathery face turns into a liquid skin, the mask boils off and drips to the ground. Staring back at us is an inhuman face rearing its ugly head. A skull made of metal, each breath causing steam to puff out through the once recognizable cheeks.
Yanking my hand out of my Mom’s grip clasping the sides of my face I screamed.
Jack’s Point of View
Watching in horror as this bastard grips my Dad’s head high in the air. A demonic laugh can be heard as if he is enjoying the screams of my sister and the faces we are making. Raising his other arm, he places it where my father’s spine is located, and instantly a burst of flames shoots out through the body, cauterizing the hole that formed. As the flame continued to travel my Mom dropped a gallon of water, which did nothing but cause the flame to get a tad smaller. In desperation, my mother generates a thick wall of ice in front of us. Absorbing the heat the ice disperses into steam.
Hearing a “Tsk” I look at my mother as her eyes pierce through the translucent ice in front of us at that thing.
“Jack, take this duffle bag and grab your sister. You need to run.” My mother tells me.
Taking a glance at the duffle bag that my mother hands me, begin to speak, “Mom I can help! We can beat this sick bastard together!”
“Are you fucking stupid Jack! Get your sister out of here! Don’t be a selfish prick of today of all days!” Mom drops the ice in front switching to a pool of water at her disposal. “Azreal, you’re a sick bastard you know that?”
With a smirk Azreal quips, “I know but at least I am not the bastard of a demon and a human.”
“I hope you enjoy surprises Azreal,” at this, my mother crosses her arms, as mist begins to form from her fingertips, “Ethereal Equilibrium!”
“OH HO HO! THIS JUST GOT INTERESTING!” Azreal shouts while dropping my Dad’s corpse and reading himself in a combative position.
“GO JACK!” Mom shouts.
Thoughts begin bouncing around in my head. Should I stay? Should I run? Where do I run? Can Mom really defeat him? Then my eyes drop towards my sister, her mouth hanging open in shock and on her knees, unable to move, my thoughts don’t matter. The only thing that matters is my sister. Reaching down I swipe up the duffle bag over my chest, grabbing down I pick Angel up by the hips and throw her onto my shoulder opposite the weight of the duffle bag. With her face looking behind me I ran.
As our house sits on the outskirts of town, I ran towards the fields in our backyard. My goal is simple, run into the hundreds of miles of forest until we lose any pursuers. Pulsing enhancement magic throughout my entire body, I readied myself for a marathon run. Through the fields of unharvested wheat, I stayed on the narrow path of going straight. Small animals would toss and turn within the fields, but my ever-vigilant eyes steered clear of even the slightest movement within the wheat fields. As the air got dry around me, I knew Mom was still fighting. As the dry air made it more difficult to breathe I decided to burst through some mana to increase my speed into the forest. Coming up to the sea of trees I readied myself for the more difficult terrain. Running through I kept glancing towards the ground making sure my adrenaline-filled mind would memorize the layout. Each branch intrudes into my vision, creating a maze of leaves. No matter how fast my mind works a simple mistake was bound to happen. Stretching my foot through the dirt a root stuck out, catching me in its clutches, I tumble onto the ground scratching my knee and jamming the duffle bag into my rib cage. As Angel fell out of my arms she hit the ground hard, which shook her awake.
Angel’s Point of View
Awaking to the sudden pain in my left side I took in the sights. The forest loomed over me like a fortress of shadows. A sudden branch broke behind me, I spun around to see my brother. Relief washed over me as he leaned over and whipped me over his shoulder.
“Sorry Angel didn’t mean to trip.” My brother says as he begins resuming a sprint. Why are we sprinting though? Mom and Dad will miss us, won’t they? In a timid voice, I spoke up, “Jack where's Mom and Dad?”
“I don’t know sis,” was the response I got in between his breaths. That did not sit well with me, why would we run away without them? Why are we in the forest alone? I want Mom and Dad I think to myself as my fingers tighten onto Jack’s shirt.
Turning my body I stare into the soul of my brother. His determination to move forward is the only safety I can trust. The rhythmic bounces from my backpack play a lullaby of peace. My eyelids begin to get heavy, and I think to myself, I trust him.