The mercenary finds himself at the end of a hallway inside of an abandoned hospital. He's taking cover around the corner of a wall while bullets from an SMG snap around him. There's a brief pause in the gunfire and he takes the opportunity to peek around the corner. Immediately the gunfire continues and he pulls himself back behind cover. It doesn't last much longer before it stops again, but this time another male can be heard. "Shit!" Wrath takes this moment to whip himself around the corner with his rifle up. The man at the other end of the hall rushes Wrath, but catches a bullet to his side and another to his shoulder before colliding with Wrath.
Wrath's slung weapon drops to his side as the other man goes low and grabs him by the waist. Wrath counters by putting his arms around the other man's neck, and braces his legs to stop the man from pushing him over. Once they come to a stop, Wrath snaps his neck to stun him. The other man is a vampire, he'll heal quickly, but it will take a moment. In the small window he has he grabs the man and throws him against the wall. He then reaches up with his right hand, and with a bright flash of lighting Αγάπη forms in his hand. Just as the vampire was starting to move again, Wrath stabs his sword through the man's chest and pins him to the concrete wall. The vampire shouts in pain as the blade of light pierces his chest. Wrath takes this moment to check himself and make sure everything is in the right place.
"C-C'mon Wrath... You know me."
Wrath stops what he's doing to look at his target from behind his helmet.
"I'll pay you more... J-Just give me time."
"I am sorry, Alex... But."
Wrath takes a few steps back while pulling a round object from his vest.
"You know how it is... Nothing personal."
He presses a button on what must be a type of grenade. Once he's at a safe distance he releases the button and tosses it at Alex.
"Wrath, please! I have a-"
The grenade goes off and a ball of solar energy erupts, completely incinerating the vampire and leaving nothing but ash and Wrath's sword. After a few seconds the miniature sun fades from existence. There's nothing but silence for a few seconds. Then someone comes over Wrath's internal communications.
"Holy shit, was that a solar grenade? Where'd you get one of those?"
The entire fight was being broadcasted to someone private computer. This method was meant to ensure that the job was completed, and no loose ends were left behind. Wrath ignores the question and his sword is gone with another strike of lightning. He begins walking out of the building that he chased Alex into. "My money? Where is it?"
He could hear the other man laugh slightly. "Relax big guy, come on back, and have a drink with us. Celebrate! You just did us a huge favor."
"I'll pass."
"Okay, Wrath, I know even you like to have a good time. Come on-I'll get some girls over for you-"
"I try not to get involved with potential contracts." Suddenly the other man wasn't so enthusiastic about his mercenary as everything went silent. He could almost hear someone in the background say,
"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"
But he didn't acknowledge it. "Now then, my money?" The deposit came up on Wrath's HUD so he can see the promised amount was being paid. "Thank you. If you have any more contracts, be sure to consider me." He then cuts the feed and continues home.
Home
Oregon
6:00 PM
A little place in the suburbs of Oregon. Ever since he went on the run from the FBI he's tried to be in places that many would least expect him. So far a small home with hardworking honest folk seems to be the perfect place to be hiding.
He pulls up on the side of his street in his 2019 Mustang GT. As he comes out he's greeted by his neighbors. Adam and Ciara. "Hey Mitchel."
He looks over at the couple as it looks like they were finishing up some light yard work. "Hey, how's it going?" He replies as he starts getting black duffle bags out of his car. Currently, he's out of his armor, and in his usual suit and tie. He also has brown contact lenses in his eyes to cover their normal crimson red.
"Oh you know, living the dream," Ciara says sort of sarcastically. "Oh! Adam, why don't you get Mitchel's package for him?"
"Did they leave in front of the door again? I keep telling them to hide it behind the porch." Wrath tries his best to sound frustrated. Adam then comes from inside his house with a black duffle bag.
"Don't worry about it, what are neighbors for?" He flashes a fake smile and nods.
"Thank you."
"It's pretty heavy!" Adam says as he drops the black duffle bag on the floor.
"Careful honey! You're going to break it."
"It's fine, it's just some shelves I ordered... My hands are a little full. Do you mind bringing it up to my door for me?" Mitchel asks as he starts turning towards his house.
"Yea, not a problem."
"I'll see you later Ciara, thanks again."
"See you around, Mitchel."
Once up the steps he sets his bags down and begins to unlock the door. "Thanks, Adam, I appreciate it."
"Not a problem... How are things at the law firm?"
"We made some cuts today, but I think we'll be fine."
"Really? That's too bad... Ah, I almost forgot. We're having a barbecue in a few weeks..." Adam went on and on while Mitchel moved his bags into the house. He wasn't going to be seen at no damn barbecue. He was about to be ready to shut the door and tell Adam goodnight before he said something that caught his interest.
"Yea, Stephanie is coming to visit once she's done with her finals this week-"
"Wait-wait... Steph is in college now?"
"I know, they grow so fast! It still feels like yesterday she was still just a kid watching you move in... We're getting old, Mitchel. Well, except for you, you hardly look like you've aged a day!" He laughs as he jokes with the murderer.
"It must be all of the whiskey." He smirks as he continues to think about Steph being in college now. He bets she would look great in a sundress. "Hm... I'll come. I'll bring a bottle of wine for you and your wife."
"Alright sounds good. I'll talk to you later then Mitchel."
"Talk to you later, Adam."
...
Finally he's left alone. The first thing he does is go upstairs and shower. The next time he comes down he's gotten into something more comfortable. Black sweats and a shirt. He begins his nightly routine of unwinding. He serves himself a glass of whiskey, warms up some casserole given to him by his neighbors, then turns on the news. After setting down his drink and food he brings his bags over and begins cleaning his rifle that was used today.
The next hour is pretty relaxing. He eats his food, has a second glass of whiskey, and finishes cleaning the rifle. He begins opening the duffle bag that was given to him and takes out a rather advanced looking shotgun with drum magazines. This is when the news started to get interesting.
"... FBI is refusing to comment on the attack that took place in New York City today. FBI Director Maxson only had this to say.-"
The screen cuts to a man standing at a podium. Wrath didn't care what he was saying though. He only focused on the woman that was standing next to him. Mint green hair and emerald green eyes. She's still there.
MAI ORTEGA
He hated this woman. Absolutely despised her. The only reason why he hasn't gone to kill her himself is only because she has an archangel beside her. That was the only thing keeping her alive right now. Before his thoughts could go on there was a sudden knock at his door. He whips around with his revolver raised at the door, only to see who it is through the window.
Another one of his friends.
"Fuck Oman, you almost got yourself shot!" Mitchel puts his gun down and goes to answer the door. As soon as the door opens the dark-skinned demon with bright blue eyes barges in with an excited look on his face.
"I got some good news for you! It's about the fights."
"Great, yea come on in. Want something to drink? Maybe you'd like my bed while you're at it? Maybe my car?" Mitchel says sarcastically as he goes to his mini-bar to start pouring more whiskey.
"This is serious, Wrath! Someone wants to fight you-thank you- and they want to help you get in the ring more often." He continues as Mitchel passes a glass to him.
"People don't want to fight you because they think you're unbeatable."
"Am I not?" Mitchel slightly grins before taking a swig from his glass. "I already told you I'm not throwing a fight."
"I know, even though I think that's the quickest way to get you back in the ring. How about this. Make it look like you can get hurt at least... You know, take a few jabs. Maybe even fall for a few seconds."
Mitchel winces at the thought before continuing back to the living room. "I don't know, man. I don't think people will buy it."
"Of course they will!" He follows into the living room. He stops and takes a look at all of the gear that's out. "Wow. I take it you went to work today."
"Yea... I did a contract on Alex. Poor bastard."
Oman shrugs. "I warned him, I said if he keeps helping those traffickers eventually someone would put a price on him."
Wrath didn't say anything back to him. He only looked on at the tv screen as the news continued to talk about the most recent attack in New York. Oman had looked over at the screen as well before looking back at him. "You know... They got some pictures of the man shooting up the place. They've stopped playing it, but you can still find it on the internet..."
"Yea? What did he look like?" Wrath asks.
It took a moment before Oman could pull up his phone and search for an image of the man. After finding it he hands it over to Mitchel. "He has that WL on his shoulder."
Mitchel narrows his eyes at the image. Eric Zackarison. Former Brigadier General of the Warlord Army. He hasn't seen him since the nuke went off in the old lands. Its been years. This had bad news written all over it. Mai and Eric were fighting it out. The last he checked they were both on friendly terms. They shared a lot of the same beliefs. Why would they be fighting now? It didn't make sense. His thought is interrupted by his friend.
"Wrath? So you wanna fight or what?"
Wrath looks at him and gives him the phone back. "I'm going down once then kicking his ass."
He smiles and quickly moves towards the door. "Just promise not to break anything!"
"Fine, I won't break anything... He better not fucking spit on me."
The Ring
Somewhere downtown
10:56 PM
It was just a few minutes before his fight starts. Just by looking at the ring you could see that everything was underground. Nothing done here was legit. This was a fighting ring ran by his friend Omar and he loved seeing Mitchel in the ring. People don't exactly enjoy watching him fight because if the way he wins his fights. Usually by going overboard and breaking something. He also never really got hurt in one of these fights. Hand-to-hand fighting was one of his best qualities.
He's walking through the small crowds of people and making his way to the ring. Omar was handling introductions of the fighters, but Mitchel was too busy paying attention to just about any woman he came across on his way tot he ring. He's barefoot with loose black shorts, a grey hoodie, and white tape around his hands. Once inside the ring he removes his hoodie, showing off his bare chest. The WL burned into his chest displayed proudly for everyone to see. Most of the people in here weren't human, so it wasn't completely strange to bare scars like this one. Everyone had something.
He faces his opponent. A bald light-skinned man. He smelt like a dog. Mitchel could only assume he was some sort of wolf species. His eyes even resembled that of a wolf. The only rules were no magic, no killing, and breaking. Just fists. The main reason why Mitchel enjoyed fighting in this ring.
A woman in scandalous clothing went to the center of the ring and held a sign high that red, Round 1. As soon as she was out of the way, a bell rang. The two fighters came close, touched fists, then backed into their corners with their guards up.
Mitchel was in no way a defensive fighter, and immediately began moving towards the other man. He tries to kick Mitchel's midsection, but is blocked by his arm. Mitchel throws a jab at his face, but it's blocked. Another kick to the midsection, Mitchel brings up his foot, and kicks the other man's leg back down while placing a jab at his ribs.
He tries to uppercut Mitchel, but he leans back then kicks him in the chest. It connects and pushes him back into the ropes. The crowd is booing Mitchel already as he's about to close in and start punching. Instead he decides to listen to his friend. He'll take a few hits before winning the fight. Mitchel backs up and taunts his opponent to come get him.
The man takes it and rushes Mitchel with a frenzy of swings. Mitchel drops his guard slightly just to let a few hits reach him while backing up. For a wolf species, he's got some strength to him. He then follows up and kicks Mitchel in the chest, pushing him back into the ropes. Mitchel keeps his guard up this time as the other man tries to throw punch after punch.
Mitchel goes low and grabs the man by the hips then pushes him down. Now on top of him, Mitchel takes the opportunity to land some punches of his own. After a few good hits he tries to maneuver himself around the man's arm so he can attempt an armbar. Luckily for him, time was on his side. The bell rang to signal the end of the first round. Mitchel got off his opponent and stepped to his corner.
He's enjoying the fight so far. He could've started going all out at first, but holding back for a little isn't so bad. The fight lasts longer. The bell rings again to signal the start of round 2. Wrath brings up his guard and starts to step towards his opponent.
Then something unexpected happens. A sharp pain shoots through his chest, causing him to freeze in place for a second. Suddenly images of his past begin to flood his mind. Images circling the Warlords and the battles he had. As he was having this moment, his opponent decided it was his time to start hitting.
With Mitchel's guard down he's an easy target. Swing after swing his fists connect to their intended target. Mitchel tries to get himself back in the fight as best as he could, but he couldn't quite see his opponent. He was still having flashbacks burning in his mind. After one good kick, Mitchel falls, but the fight isn't over just yet. The other man gets on top of him and starts to hit his face. After a few more good hits, Mitchel finally gets a break.
His mind clears for a moment and he immediately twists his hips, creating a space between his torso and the man's inner thigh. Mitchel hooks his arms around the back of the other's neck, and pulls a knee through the opening. This allows him to get out of this position. In one swift move, Mitchel uses his leg and upper body to throw his opponent off balance, and push him away. The man tries to come back and regain the position but is only met with a kick to the temple. Mitchel gets back to his feet and so does his opponent.
While he's trying to keep his head in the fight, he's also trying to understand why the mark on his chest started acting up. Did it mean something? Was he in danger? Just what exactly is going on? Soon his question is answered when the whole room goes dark.
It's only him. He looks around to see if anyone else is in the darkness with him, but there's no one. Then out of a burst of white flames the body of a woman begins to form. In a few seconds the one who stood before him was Mai.
"You know, you've got a lot of fucking nerve-"
The room snaps back to normal, and before he could stop anything, his opponent lands a hit right on the WL mark on his chest. It sends a jolt of pain through Mitchel's body and he goes down again. His ears were ringing as he placed a hand over the mark. His opponent seems to have thought that Mitchel was out of the fight. The crowd cheers him on as he holds both fists high above him.
"Not so tough now are ya?!" He shouts down at Mitchel.
Mitchel is still trying to regain his composure. This was still a new feeling to him. Then something wet landed on his cheek, and suddenly his mind cleared right up. He wiped spit off his cheek and stood up. He was about to start fighting again, but the bell rang to signal the end of the second round. Mitchel gets right in his face. "Did you just fuckin spit on me?!" The crowd cheers them on, but the bell rings again. Mitchel pushes him away before going back to his corner while the man has a smug grin on his face.
Mitchel's mind has cleared, and he's begun to ignore the pain in his chest. He was pissed off now. He paced back and forth in his corner, waiting for the bell to ring again. It began to look like the skin on his neck was cracking, revealing nothing but blackness underneath. Finally, the bell for the third round rings.
Mitchel closes the distance between him and the other man immediately. His opponent tries to throw a jab for his face, but he crouches while simultaneously punching into the man's ribs. He winces and grabs his side while taking a few steps back, showing that Mitchel must have cracked something with that punch. He keeps pushing towards his opponent with his arms up. Once close enough, the man tries to catch Mitchel with a kick.
Mitchel catches his foot, and kicks the other out from under him. Once his opponent is on the ground, Mitchel holds onto his ankle, and wraps his legs around his leg. He twists his hips, and pulls on the leg. In one sickening pop the man's leg is dislocated. Mitchel drops it to the floor as his opponent screams in pain. It doesn't last long until he follows up with a well-placed kick to the face, knocking him out. The fight is over.
"Fuckin cunt." Mitchel says as he undoes the tape on his hands. The crowd has fallen silent now as he steps out of the ring. His friend Omar meets him outside the ring and follows him.
"You know no one is going to want to fight you for a while again."
"That's fine with me, I think I'll be busy for a few weeks anyway."
Omar hands over an envelope with what must be cash for winning the fight. "Here you go-wait you're not staying for a little?"
Mitchel had put his hoodie back on, retrieved his other belongings, and started putting his shoes on. "Nah, I got to get ready for tomorrow."
"Going somewhere?"
"Yea... I'm headed to New York. Gotta find some answers." He stands up and begins heading towards the door.
"Guess I'll see you in a few weeks then."
"See ya, Omar..."
The End?
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