Nobility

Nobility
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#
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"Welcome to the fight, brother." Tier-4 Sergeant-Commissar Protectorate Irongrind greeted as soon as the doors parted by the middle with a hiss.
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Protectorate Shocker banged his right fist against his chest as he walked past his black-and-orange clad subordinate. The room he entered was gloomy and quiet, illuminated only by fluorescent strips attached on the baseboards of the wall, providing the surroundings with a bluish hue. Along the walls, humans in black tunic uniforms worked in front of green-screened consoles; running reports, patching communication signals to another bases, sending transmissions or coordinating operations for deployed paranormal combat units across the globe.
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The raised platform beyond was occupied by a trio of superior Protectorates, all of which had Tier-7 ranks of Paladin-Captain. They were gathered around a slab of steel that Shocker realized to be a 'tactical computer'--tables that projects holographic images of real-time battlefield information. Among the three were a human, an Albanian Shadow Warrior Colonel who was among those who have joined the fight in the ensuing European Defensive conflict. He was wearing a Riot Vehicular Armor, a bulky powered suit with a pair of wheels attached on the armor's ankles. It was almost laughable, Shocker thought. The human doesn't want to be out of place in the presence of the Protectorates since their Battle Gears had somehow made them almost heroic.
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Shocker was at the base of the steps, about to ascend when the three immediately turned to regard him.
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"Greetings, Tribune-Commander." They said with monotonous voices. Their voice filtration devices made the sentence as if it was ommitted by monsters, rather than the opposite.
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"Likewise, Paladin-Captains." He replied back, his voice was a match to theirs. He ascended the steps and took his place beside a Protectorate named Voltage.
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"We called you here to redirect your Strike Team at this coordinates." The Protectorate at the head of the table, Warfighter, pointed at a particular direction.
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Shocker did not regard his finger for a moment as he studied the battlefield first. Currently, the Forward Base they are currently in was located in the southwestern quadrant of the table, near a village and some trees. A diagonal river that ran from farther southwest to northeast bisected the table in half. Handful of villages were scattered across the region, each had marks of either an 'X' or an 'O', indicating if the villages were liberated or had fallen to enemy hands. By the looks of it, most of the villages were fallen, while the other were liberated. Red arrows populated the interactive map and surrounded some blue ones. It does not look good.
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He gazed at Warfighter's finger, pointing at the city of Grenoble. An icon of a skull was flashing on the top of it, which would indicate that it was a contested battle ground. He glanced at Warfighter; it does not need a vocal question to know that Shocker was asking for permission to manipulate the table so that he could examine it further.
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As if a response to his request, Warfighter retracted his hand and nodded. Shocker used both of his thumb and index finger to maximize the size the of the city and there, an urban zone filled with buildings and archaic houses could be seen, some of which were burning and smoking. The streets and zones were populated by ground forces, both from the forces of Humans, Heaven and Demons, fighting for the city's supremacy. It does not need a general to know that this particular battle was winnable even without their hand.
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He minimized the view. Shocker's peripheral vision caught sight of a small village that was currently under attack. He pointed at the village and inquired.
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"What of this village over there?"
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"Don't mind it, Commander." Warfighter replied. "That village will soon fall to enemy hands. Best to ignore it than expend resources to a battle that does not hold a strategical advantage to us."
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Strategical advantage, Shocker thought.
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"Yes, brother." Shocker obediently said without taking his eyes off the village. Even from his distance, he could already feel the death echoes from that place. He knew that the Protectorates around him were just shrugging off the same sensation but deep inside, their soul must be writhing.
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He saluted at his superiors and about-faced. He marched down the steps towards the door, saluting past Irongrind, who returned the gesture with reverence. He walked out of the room, the darkness of the hallway slowly swallowing him until he was nowhere in sight.
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#
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"Flank them from the left!" Shocker barked as he relayed the instruction at the other Strike Team while they engaged the main formation of black-skinned Demons in front of them. He steadied his aim as he gained a bead on a target and fired. He watched the horned bastard fell back-first on the ground, the glow in its yellow eyes faded as death claimed it fully.
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He made a gesture in the air, prompting the other Protectorates around him to form up in a firing formation to prevent the bullets of the enemies from passing through the gaps of their lines and reach the humans behind them. They formed a thick wall in front of the humans, preventing them from being shot at, however, this also restricted them from attacking the Demons beyond.
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"Hey! You're blocking our line of fire!" A Detachment-Foxtrot soldier yelled from behind. However, Shocker paid him no heed. He does not want to see another dead human in his watch.
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The greatly armed Demons from another Legion began to replace the depleted black-skinned ones, hefting satanic light-based weaponry and taking aim at the Protectorates. They were armored in bronze, which glinted as the sun's reflection, peaking from a gap between two blackened clouds, bounced off from its surface and made them look like glitters from afar. The first column lined up like musketeers and opened fire, missing their charging and inferior brethren and reached the Protectorates in a short period of time.
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Some of the angelic warriors were sent bouncing across the pavement, or were thrown to the ground as the impact of the enemy weapons' projectiles slammed against them. But like automatons, they stood back up and retook their previous positions.
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"Brothers, omega formation and show no mercy!" Shocker issued, prompting the wall of Protectorates to scatter. "Engage bayonets and at my mark, execute Attack Protocol 66-6."
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"Yes, brother!" A random Protectorate replied. "Let the bodies hit the floor!"
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The gap allowed the humans behind them to open fire, but it also made them vulnerable to enemy attacks. The nigh-immortal soldiers raised their aims but Shocker issued another instruction.
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"Hold your ground and release volley fire!"
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At once, a light show involving blue spheres of light travelling in an arc and reaching the bronze-armored Demons took place. They fell one by one, dilapidated and cauterized. It was beautiful, now that the light of the sun had disappeared behind thick grey clouds and casted a gloomy shadow on the street below. It illuminated the darkened surroundings in light blue.
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The long ranged Demons were dead and the second line behind them were ambushed by the Strike Team that was commanded by Shocker. Their problem, however, was the remaining short ranged ones with black bodies, glowing eyes and curved daggers.
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"Now, brothers!" Shocker ordered. At once, the Protectorates became a blur of motion as they sprinted towards their targets. The humans were dumbfounded; one second, their protectors were there and the next, they were over there, ripping and tearing their brutal enemies without hesitation.
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Shocker leaned to the left as a Demon thrusts its knife at him. He grabbed its wrist with both hands and redirected its tip at its owner neck. He ran it parallel against its throat without hesitation before impaling its heart twice.
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"Stop hitting yourself." Shocker grimly whispered as he tripped the dying Demon to the ground. He pulled the knife from its heart and engaged another one.
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He deflected its approaching hand where it grasped the knife with his left palm. Shocker's eyes was full of fury while he stared at his enemy's face, which was contorted with madness. Truly, the Demons not only knew rampage, but they also lacked reasoning for what they do. Its free hand was launched in a hook; Shocker amputated its hand with a downward slash. The Demon let out a guttural cry, which he silenced with an impalement to the throat. Shocker twisted the knife before pulling it out, the Demon's cry was muffled with a gurgling scream as blood invaded its throat.
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He quickly snatched the other knife from its dying fingers and engaged another one. Shocker does not feel delight at all, but rather, he only felt fulfilment knowing that the Demons they killed will never bother humankind anymore. He never fought with wrath, but he only does so because of those who stood behind them for protection.
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He may have denied it to himself, and more than once, he tried to mask his emotions. But only the Lord knows about his love for humanity.
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Gripping the both daggers in his hands, he struck with an intricate series of swings that lacerated every inch of his enemy's skin, spilling darkened blood on the ground. The golden crucifix affixed on his right shoulder steamed as droplets of unholy blood made contact. He swung both knives over his head and rotated towards three incoming Demons, gutting them in a swift and single motion. They fell down with intestines spilling out of their stomachs.
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Suddenly, silence emanated. Shocker remained in that position as adrenaline slowly left his system. He was covered Demon blood, just like his brothers around him. From the distance, the joint task force comprising of human soldiers appeared at the other end of the street, a second too late from the party. But Shocker did not paid them any heed.
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He slowly stood up, dropping both his stolen knives and walked away.
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"Brother, where are you going?" One of his subordinates inquired.
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"Stay right here!" He yelled before sprinting away.
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#
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The entrance of the small besieged village was a warzone, literally. The houses in the immediate vicinity were charred and fell to ruination and some vehicles were reduced to nothing but a burnt-out husk. His heartbeat quickened, he was worried about the inhabitants and immediately searched the ground for any dead. To his relief, there was none.
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He marched on, the sounds of gunfire could be heard in the distance. However, this part of the village was too quiet. He wondered why it was silent. He swallowed and pressed on, derailing his train of thoughts and filtered the noise around for any sound.
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There were no movements, nor heartbeats or anything that could indicate a presence of an entity.
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As the breeze blew past and sent the leaves and branches of the nearby tree swaying, Shocker snapped towards that direction but immediately eased. He reprimanded himself for being too nervous when the ground beside him exploded, sending him flying towards the wall of a nearby house.
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His backplate was cracked and his spinal column was fractured. In an instant, both damages were repaired while he stood up. However, he was greeted by a sight of a red-eyed Demon with a tattooed face and a forearm blade, charging at him. Shocker raised his right foot and kicked the Demon to the ground, pinning his target completely.
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"Bayonet!" He yelled; his rifle extended its underside knife with jagged edges. The blade whirred in a clockwise-motion, like a chainsaw and stabbed the breastbone of the Demon without hesitation. He cut his target upwards until its face was staring at his barrel. He fired thrice coldly.
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He received three shots to his right pauldron. Shocker turned to see another Demon with an identical armor; black chestplate, red armored trousers, armed with forearm blades and had tattoos all over its face and even possessed the same coloration of its eyes. The difference, however, is that this one was armed with a pistol.
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Shocker returned fire, blasting the Demon until it was disgusting to look at. Its skin was peeled backwards, revealing cooked meat underneath. The Protectorate simply jogged forward when the ground around him began to explode like earlier, sending pillars of mud and rocks flying in the air.
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The bombardment stopped momentarily when another Demon appeared to his left, aiming with its pistol. Shocker terminated him with a steady shot when he felt something hard slammed against his back. He rolled across the ground as he rode along the impact. He turned and caught sight of a seven foot tall gargantuan Demon with a rock-like body and a huge hammer.
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Shocker almost laugh. He started to question the logic of whoever creating these Demons, as if the bastard was trying to fit two things together in an effort to make them look scary or dangerous. He was about to charge at his target when a caped entity manifested behind him and impaled his back.
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The tip of the blade appeared from his chestplate. Shocker felt a jolt as the assailant withdrew the blade in an instant. He fell to the ground and realized that he had spat blood that now covered the interior side of his visor. From bloodied eye lenses, he watched his attacker, laughing and walking around him.
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A Baron.
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"Look at this pitiful thing." It mocked. "You're nothing but like the rest of them." It spat on Shocker's dying body. "Easy to kill and just another meat for the grinder." Around, numerous Demon Legionnaires gathered, one of them were holding female human by its hair. It was squirming under its grip.
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Shocker couldn't do anything but to await death.
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"If only my brothers knew how fragile you bastards all are." It grinned, face inscrutinable behind the shadows of its hood. "Children that never growed. All turned into dogs of Heaven in a desperate attempt to win a losing war." It laughed. "Let's go, boys! We got more humans to kill!" It spat for the second time at Shocker.
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He was left alone, staring at the skies that remained cloudy. He quietly prayed that some miracle would happen. He have to save the people in this village. He have to.
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But it seems like his luck had reached its end as numbness overtook his body. His vision was slowly darkening as the last vestiges of life drained away...
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#
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He walked across a green verdant park. The skies were clear and the air felt cool in his lungs every time he inhaled. For decades, it was his first time to see the sun shine above him. Despite its glow, the rays were never hot to the skin. But what struck him the most was the peace that radiated in his surroundings.
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He pressed on further, hearing laughters that were not caused by forced emotions or the reminiscence of good memories while living in bad times, but rather of authentic joy caused by long desired reunion. He found himself smiling and paused. His eyes searched for the source of the noise and saw white-dressed crowd gathering in a corner.
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They noticed that someone was looking. They turned their heads and immediately fell quiet upon seeing him. Unlike them, he was wearing a black tunic uniform that they have worn while they trained on the Pantheon--the home of the Protectorates outside of Heaven's Gates. They never knew about him and seeing him, especially in that outfit, made him look like an alien passing through.
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But nonetheless, they gave him a smile and a child in particular, which looked familiar, waved at him. He waved back.
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He continued walking. More people in white appeared, gathering around full of joy. This must be the inside of Heaven, he thought. He wondered if this is where dead Protectorates go.
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He paused in his tracks, savoring the environment around him. One crowd was dancing, the other was singing, while a handful few were talking to winged unarmored Angels, some of which he realized were Bidadari--a subtype of Angels that acted as artificers or servants to those who fight in angelic Legions. They were feminine in appearance and were the most beautiful, reminding him of that one particular Bidadari who interred him inside his black-and-blue Praetorian Battle Gear.
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Which he realized was now missing from his person.
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But he never cared. He walked further and realized that he was ascending a hill where a tree was nestled on top. He was drawn to it for some reason and it compelled him to ascend its peak. He continued when a white-furred dog came running to him.
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It was strangely familiar.
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"Doug!" He called as he hugged the dog tightly. Doug was a mixed breed of Border Collie and Jack Russel. Before the attack on their household, Doug was wounded by that thrice-damned Acheri that clawed the hound's left side until he died of exsanguination.
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He was glad to see him here in Heaven.
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Doug escorted him towards the peak of the hill. It was cool and quiet and he patted Doug's head for choosing such a good spot. He sat at the edge of the hill, beside his pet. They both watched the people below them rejoice in happiness. For what reason, Shocker doesn't know. He was just happy to look at them. For the first time, he found himself smiling.
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"Gordon?" A familiar voice called him. Shocker, no, Gordon turned to see the owner of the voice and saw his mother in a white dress and looked younger than the last time he recalled her face. Behind her were his siblings, all staring at him wide-eyed.
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Gordon froze for a second before he scrambled to his feet and hugged his mother tightly. Tears streamed from his eyes before he completely wept like a child. He disengaged from their embrace and approached his siblings. He put his arms around them and squeezed them in a hug. He cared not if he was heard by anyone as he could not supress his emotions any further.
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"Where's father?" Gordon asked.
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"We're still waiting for your father, Gordon." His mother said. "It seems like his misdeeds had caught up with him but it wasn't grave enough to guarantee him an entry to Hell."
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"He'll be here, soon." Gordon assured. "It's just part of the natural order." He stood up. "Being cleansed and all."
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"Where have you been?" His brother asked. "And why is your clothes like that?" Gordon glanced at him.
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"Many far away places." Gordon simply replied. "But I am glad to be here." He cried again. "I really am."
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His mother faced him and pulled him in another embrace. Gordon failed to hold back his tears as it freely flowed again. If all of this was true, he doesn't want to leave it. Gordon listened to his mother's hushing as she clapped his back gently.
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"We're here now." She said as she released him. "We're reunited."
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"Yes," Gordon replied.
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"We never expected to see you so soon." His sister interjected. "We're expecting dad more than you."
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"Jillian, that's not nice!" His older brother scolded.
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"Never in a thousand years either, brother." Gordon said, but his tone was monotonous. He reprimanded himself for using the same pitch that he used back when he was in the Protectorate Regiment.
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"Something wrong, Gordon?" His mother asked.
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"No, I'm fine." Gordon replied. "A-am I truly dead?"
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"We all are." His mother assured him as they walked towards the edge of the hill, beside Doug. From above, they watched the people below them interacted happily with one another. None of them had picked up a weapon in their entire lives, Gordon thought. It seemed to him that this section of Heaven was reserved only for the peaceful.
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"What took you so long to get here?" Jillian asked.
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"Kicked ass and took names." Gordon replied.
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"Watch the language, Gordon." His mother said with a smile.
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"Sorry." Gordon replied apologetically. "You will never believe half of what I've gone through."
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"Like what?" His younger brother asked.
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"Let's just say that your brother have been fighting monsters, Timmy." He grinned. "Like the boogeyman or Dracula."
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"Did you win?" Jillian asked.
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"Yeah," Gordon lied. "I guess we did."
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"We? But are you hurt?" His older brother inquired. "Tell me, I'll fight them for you."
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Gordon laughed as he turned to look at his siblings. Among the three of them, he noticed a small girl hiding behind his mother's skirt, looking at him meekly.
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"Mother, you didn't told me about that young one over there. Who's she?"
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His mother turned and picked her up, settling her in her shoulder.
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"This is Emmy Lou." His mother said. "Remember? She was just eleven months old the last time we see each other."
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Gordon realized that it was their newborn sister. He just looked at her, then to his mother as if he was asking her permission to carry his sister. His mother handed Emmy Lou to him, whom he lifted with his arms.
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They stood in silence, feeling the breeze in their exposed skins as it blew past while listening to the laughter of people below. This was what Gordon truly desired, what he truly wanted. He never want for it to end.
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He would kill to be with them.
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"Gordon Stacker?" A voice that he had once heard called.
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Gordon turned to see a Bidadari in white. The winged Angel smiled warmly at him as she approached. She was the Angel who installed the Battle Gear to his body.
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"Not a step further, Malakhim." Gordon warned as he handed Emmy Lou back to his mother.
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"Gordon, be nice." His mother scolded. "Juviel had been a friend ever since we first came here."
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"I know, and I don't care." Gordon glared at the Angel. "What do you want?"
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"Gordon, please don't misunderstood me. I am only here to tell you that the skirmish that you, alone, have undertook was losing." The Bidadari said. "The people were dying and those that have took up arms were massacred like lambs led to a slaughterhouse."
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"And?" Gordon coldly asked.
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"That is all. I am only here to bear you a news." She said.
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Gordon turned his back on her and gazed at the people below them. His mind was a rollercoaster of thoughts. He felt worried, as the slight glimpse of reality paved its way inside an almost perfect dream like parasitic entity that only had a goal of sucking life out of a healthy flesh. He was starting to be anxious. But he was already tired of fighting the war.
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A losing war.
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He clenched his fists and turned to the Angel. Tears forming in his eyes once more.
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"Why the fuck are you still standing there?" He asked. "Anything you wanna say?"
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"Gordon, please--"
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Gordon dropped to his knees and cried. "I am tired!" He yelled. "What else do you want from me?"
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But no one replied. Like a bad memory flashing before his eyes, he remembered the Demons who 'killed' him. He remembered the woman dragged by one of the vicious beings in the hair and he also heard her cries. He remembered the ruined village and the dead back in the Battle For Grenoble.
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He wanted to stay, but he needed to still uphold his duty no matter what.
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"Do you want to stay here?" The Bidadari gently asked as she lifted Gordon's chin and smiled gently.
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As if asking for permission to his mother, he glanced up to her. Mrs. Stacker simply smiled and patted his left shoulder lovingly.
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"We will be fine, son. The world needs you." She said. "They need you."
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Gordon stood up with a heavy heart and slowly walked towards the Bidadari. It does not need an oral answer to know his decision. His mother was right. 'They' need him. For people's sake, he will fight so that no child will ever lose their lives from the supernatural once again.
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"We will see each other again," His mother said with an assuring tone. "And by the time it happens, your father will be here now."
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Gordon did not reply and simply nodded. The Bidadari began to walk towards the descending slope; the former approached her. She stopped on her tracks.
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"Say your farewell now." She said.
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Gordon turned. His siblings, surrounding their mother while they wave at him goodbye. He decided to not return the gesture and instead looked ahead. He was not going to look back.
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"Let's go."
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The Angel did not move.
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"Are you sure with your decision?" A hint of regret could be heard in her voice. "No one will be mad if you chose to stay here. You have done enough."
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"Are you deaf?" Gordon asked with an irritated tone. "Let's get this fucking over with."
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She faced him. Gordon watched as the Angel placed her left palm over his forehead. Bright light enveloped his vision...
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...followed by complete darkness.
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#
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And with a jolt, he opened his eyes. He made a fist and pumped it in front of his face. The motion sensors in his Battle Gear recognized his gesture and immediately detracted the headgear module of his armor. He went to the floor and barfed a lungful before coughing.
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After a moment of silence, he found himself staring at a rotting wooden floorboard. He reactivated his headgear with the same gesture, enhancing his vision with the helmet's display link once more.
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He glanced around and realized that he was in a some kind of a ruined house. The ceiling was perforated, the windows were broken and the door was missing. He noticed that his chest wound was slapped with a band-stick--an adhesive product of Smithson's Pharmaceuticals that kept a fatal wound from being infected further. He removed the band-stick from his chest and crumpled it with his armored hand. He tossed it aside and realized that he had exerted too much force when it came skipping across the road outside.
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Shocker raised his Tacticomp--a touchscreen computer attached to his right forearm, and engaged the manual repair mode of his armor woth a click of an icon in Enochian language. In an instant, it sealed the hole from his chest and back plates.
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He heard motion beneath the wall behind him. Out of instinct, he pulled out his Ray Pistol and stood to his feet. He entered the doorway that led to the kitchen and met three women and seven armed men gathering around a table, consuming warm cream soup with a bread.
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"Identify yourselves or all of you will die!" Shocker yelled. To the corner of his eye, one of the men was about to reach for his pistol when the Protectorate instinctively kicked an empty chair towards his position, tripping him over. "Don't test my patience, my finger is quick as lightning!"
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"Please don't hurt us!" The eldest of the women pleaded. She approached him, earning a warning from the Protectorate.
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"Five steps back!"
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"Please!" She knelt. "W-we're the only defenders fighting against the monsters!"
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Shocker simply trained his weapon at the men.
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"Stand up!" Shocker ordered as he slowly lowered his gun. His exhaled, slowly traces of adrenaline leaving him. "Who dragged me here?"
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"I did, monsieur." The elder woman, who was rising to her feet, replied.
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"Merci beaucoup." Shocker replied with a calm tone. "I need to use the bathroom. Where is it?"
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She pointed at a door at the opposing wall.
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Shocker did not respond as he reattached his Ray Pistol to his thigh and walked past the gathered crowd. He stopped beside the man he incapacitated earlier.
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"I'm sorry for--"
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"Tan pis!" The man replied angrily, his nose was broken and bleeding.
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Shocker glanced at the bathroom door, then back at the man. He placed a hand over his head and healed him, which was much more painful since his fractured nasal cartilage was realigned back to its original place, earning a scream. "Thank me later." He walked towards the bathroom.
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He deactivated his headgear and looked at his reflection in the mirror attached to the wall. He stared down at the sink, which was full of molds and soot. He turned the faucet and let the water flow freely. From outside, he could hear their conversation in their native language but his suit was instantly translating it for him.
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"--it was hard to think that a man was inside that walking armor."
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"--is he capable of helping us?"
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"--do they feel anything?"
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"--what are they exactly?"
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Most of them had no idea who was inside the Battle Gear. Shocker stared at the face of a youthful child of no more than fifteen. His green eyes glowed rhytmically, an indication of heavenly arcane power living within him. He doused his armored hand with water and ran it across his short blonde hair.
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"--do they cry?"
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"--do they have parents?"
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He recalled his memory of Heaven and realized how close he was of being with them. But it seemed to him that God has another plan for him. Tears flowed from his eyes again; he had seen his 'life' that was abruptly drawn to him, only to disappear from his fingertips once more. He wanted to ask why. But there was no point.
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Shocker suppressed his tears and splashed his face with water. He reactivated his headgear with a gesture and walked out, to meet the resistance fighters waiting for him.
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"Lead me to your general." He said.
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"He was currently at the trenches, sir." One of the fighters replied.
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"It matters not. Lead me to him."
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"At once, monsieur." They replied back.
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One of them stood and led him outside the house. Shocker realized that they were in the middle of the only settlement standing. Beige tents stood beside houses that were literally levelled by the Demons, populated by men, women and child in tattered and dirty clothings. Every person they walked past stopped and ran away at the sight of him. Some even simply stare at him in fear.
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It was one of the reasons why he decided to keep away from humans. He was there to protect them but they always think that he was going to eat them or something. Perhaps the Battle Gear made them fearful of many things in particular. He could not blame them; they were always seen blood-covered and brutally executing horrifying monsters. If they could kill predators like that with ease, what would that make them?
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And in response to humanity's demeanour towards to his kind, he learned to be bitter. He never wanted to terrorize them but he just simply does not want anything to do with them since they would just be afraid.
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Shocker never wanted that in the first place. However, there was no other choice. Indeed, to be a guardian of humanity was a lonely duty.
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A very lonely one.
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The crowd moved away from them as they walked past a church. They should be celebrating since he was there to help them. But no, they were not.
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And suddenly, a female child ran towards their path. The resistance fighter yelled angrily and was about to swat the child away when Shocker shoved him lightly aside. The force made the fighter almost trip from balance. He approached the child looking up at him. Shocker remembered his sister, Emmy Lou, when he had a glimpse of Heaven.
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This is what he fights for. The future generation.
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"Pardon monsieur," she greeted. "My mere is missing. She was grabbed by one of the monsters."
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"Is that so, young one?" Shocker asked. His voice was a deep rumble but it was calm. It made the crowd take a step back and was shooing the child away, fearful that Shocker might do something horrible. "I will find her then."
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"Promise?" She asked innocently.
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"Yes." Shocker replied and turned at the resistance fighter. "Lead the way."
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His request was complied with an affirmative as they walked further towards the contested battlezone.
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#
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"Fire!" A voice commanded, followed by old rifles releasing a volley.
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Beyond, Demons on horseback came tumbling down, along with their demonic equine vehicles and disappearing in a fog almost instantly. The leader of the resistance laughed loudly, upon seeing the Demons vaporized to nothingness.
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The column of riflemen were beneath a dug-out trench that they haphazardly created to combat the Demons coming from that direction. He stood among his troops with a weapon at hand and fighting them head-on.
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The Protectorate jumped behind them, taking them all by surprise.
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"What's the status?" He asked, freezing them immediately on the spot.
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"You," the leader said as he placed his binoculars over his eyes. "My name is Thomas Hugo, as you can see, I am the lea--"
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"Yes, for I have eyes. Now, what's the status?" Shocker cut him off asa he does not like introductions in the middle of a warzone.
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"The bastards are charging us now. We don't know what to call them so used some nicknames we created to identify them."
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"It's no use to me." Shocker said. "Those things you've killed on horseback were Legionnaires from the Death Fury Legion." He pointed at a group of humanoid Demons in an American Civil War uniform with spikes protruded all over their bodies. "And those are Death Musketeers Legionnaire. Must be the bastards who shelled your village to the rubbles."
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"What about the one with tattoos all over their faces?"
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"Black Wind Legionnaires." Shocker replied. He knew the Demons by names since he have fought them on almost in an hourly basis. All millions of them across time.
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"What do we do now? They're advancing." Thomas said.
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"We'll charge them head on."
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"What the--are you crazy?" His lieutenant asked. "We're going to die!"
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"You're more vulnerable if you stay at once place, soldier. You have eyes and you could see the Death Musketeers' artilleries. Once they bombard you, you're all dead!" Shocker yelled. He did not mean to but it just came out of him out of pressure. "Load your muskets, mortals! We're going to charge!"
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They glanced at the leader, who was grinning crazily and nodded. They followed their requests as Shocker yelled a voice command to his weapon, enabling the bayonet underneath his weapon.
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"Charge forward!" He vaulted over the trench and went ahead. The mortals behind him followed his tracks with a roar. The charge was foolish, but for Shocker, it was the only tactically correct decision that he must make or else the mortals would be slaughtered before they know what had hit them.
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Shocker fired at the red-uniformed Demons. He watched them fall under a hail of blue plasma, melting them down and turning them into a steaming pile of goo. Gunpowders were fired and Shocker felt iron spheroids penetrating his armor when the bastards opened fire.
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That's right, he thought. Focus your fire on me.
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He glanced behind to see that only a handful of humans had fallen but most were still running and were within firing range. They did not hesitated to open up on them, taking down handful of Demons.
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Shocker's instincts kicked in. He drew his combat machete from his back that he rarely pulled out and engaged the remaining Demons in the vicinity. Most were already escaping upon seeing a rampaging Protectorate slaughtering every unholy being he saw.
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He hacked, split and decapitated heads with reckless swings and amputated limbs without any regards whether his victims dies of exsanguination or not. He would not stop until they all ceased moving. A Demon with missing legs crawled towards his escaping brothers, calling for their help when Shocker hacked its head vertically. He raised his Blast Rifle single-handedly at the backs of the escaping Demons and killed them by firing in a wide arc.
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The humans finally reached him, but the enemies were all dead.
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"Holy crap! We've won!" One of the fighters exclaimed.
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"Not yet!" Shocker yelled. "Only a fool would celebrate an accomplished objective. Rejoice if we win the battle." He glanced at the six artillery thud guns before them. The weapons were wheeled and above the machine were six tubes loaded with red-tipped micro warheads.
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He yelled at the mortals to redirect the tubes towards the opposite side. He easily turned his while the others were struggling even if there were many people already exerting force. But they eventually accomplished their task, carefully aiming it at the incoming Black Wind Legionnaires beyond.
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Shocker snapped his fingers and a fire immediately erupted from his middle finger. The tubes were connected together in the lower end via a vertical pipe where a fuse wire was sticking out. He lit it up and watched the wire burn until it goes inside the pipe. Within a second, the micro warheads came launching and a barrage of missiles assailed the air and reached the Demons beyond.
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The resistance fighters fired their own artilleries and immediately slaughtered the incoming Demons in bright clusters of explosions. When the dust settled, Shocker could still feel something beyond.
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Something dark and evil that he had felt before when he first set foot on this village.
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He pulled his machete from the head of a Demon and sheathed it. He glanced at Thomas and ordered, "Stay here."
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He did not wait for a reply and sprinted ahead. Something compelled him to move to the road beyond. Shocker arrived at a forest clearing. He stopped instantly and felt his blood boiled at the sight of scantily clad women in cages. There were so many of them and he could hear their pleas and emotions all at once as they asked Shocker to get them out. One of them was the child's mother.
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"You came back from the dead?" A familiar voice asked. It was the Baron.
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But instead of facing him, Shocker rolled to the left and fired at an empty space with his rifle's setting on high.
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"Ex tenebrae, lux!"
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A beam of light was launched from his weapon and hit a solid matter in front. The seven-foot tall Demon with a stone body materialized to view and almost trip when its knee was dislodged from its leg. Shocker fired at the other leg, effectively crippling the Demon.
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"You really think cloaking yourself from me will save you?!" Shocker asked as he tackled the giant to the ground. He impaled the Demon's neck with his bayonet, lodging it there, and wrestled the hammer from its grip.
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He pulled the hammer from its dying hands and whirled around. He swung without hesitation.
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"How dare y-you!" The Baron asked as he materialized in an instant, his left ribcage was shattered as he rolled across the ground. Shocker threw the hammer aside and approached the Baron, who was slowly standing up. "What gives you the right--?!"
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"Nobody gives us!" He engaged his left armblade and impaled the Baron in the heart. "We--" He disengaged his armblade shortly and punched through his wound. His fingers wrapped around the Demon's still-throbbing heart. "--take it!" He pulled the heart free from his body and revealed it to the Baron. "And you speak a lot!" He jammed the heart inside the Baron's mouth before giving him an uppercut.
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"What a coward. You never know how to fight toe-to-toe." He glanced around him and aimed his left free hand at a direction. "Dispersio."
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The wooden cages instantly pulverized to splinters, sending the women to the muddy ground. Shocker ignored them as he left the scene and walked back to the resistance fighters.
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"If you wish to live, follow me." He only said.
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#
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"Our good sir, you have done a lot for this village." Thomas said as they gathered in the middle of the settlement.
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The crowd around them were now cheering. Shocker was not used to it but their cheerful demeanour had warmed him to the heart. They were clapping and tossing coins in the air but Shocker did not show any emotions. He simply let out a sigh as he saw lovers, families and friends reunited with one another when he released the captive women from cages earlier.
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And not only that, the settlement was spared from death at the hands of the Demons. If he wasn't there--
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He paused. If he wasn't there, what could have just happened?
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Possibilities and future memories could not happen because of this. It filled his mind instantly, but he quieted the thoughts down with a blink. As much as he wanted to stay, he needed to go.
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So he began to walk.
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He heard some of their leaking thoughts, how they wished that he never go. How they wish that they stayed as their village's defender. How they wish that they become as mighty as he.
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He laughed. They don't know that he was just a child, younger than them in appearance, but older than all of them in age. He paused when he heard a tiny voice calling to him.
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Shocker turned to see the same female child with a white ribbon in hand.
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"Thank you for saving my mother!" She said before offering him a ribbon.
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Shocker paused before he knelt to be level with the child and received the ribbon with his hand. He stood up and attached the ribbon beside the doll hanging in his rosary. He stared at the child. The lifeform before him would prosper.
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At least, he won this one today.
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He turned his back on the crowd and walked away. The short victory had inspired him to win more battles despite the fact that they are losing. He knows that God would not let evil win. He knows that Lucifer will never triumph on Earth. There must be a reason why he was brought back to life.
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Maybe it was to witness the final victory. He grinned as he looked up in the skies.
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One day, he will be reunited with his complete family in Heaven. He does not care how far, but he will go the distance, because that's where he was meant to be.
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[END]
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(Short Tale)