They Called Me FIVE

LANCE

I can feel Seven staring behind me. With my other eyeball on the ground I look at her. She look at me. I tried to telepath with her, not sure if she can hear me, but I told her I got this. She planted her palm on the ground. 

Spread a summer breeze warmth that climbs in other half of my head, the one where Dad struck his gleaming sword with. At that instant I knew, why my regeneration didn't work. Why I'm still alive at the same time fail to outgrew my dismembered head. 

It's because of her blessing. The sword is bath with it. I vaguely remembered them using her against me. Her power clashes mine, because we're opposite. I shot my hand up in the air. My neck is slowly recovering. 

Lista is not paying attention to the gruesome scene of my body outgrowing head at his feet, nor Dad noticing me disintegrating at his shoe. Both are too absorb on their victory. They forgot what my blessing is.

My neck has fully grown. I'm half way through my nose. My lips cracked a smile. My blessing is 'Death'. Which means I don't die. I can kill people with my black wave. I can raise the dead through my shadow. 

They watched me getting tortured for seventy days, they didn't pay attention to how far I develop my blessing. It's okay. The last part of my forehead are stitched back to normal. I can defeat them this time.

With a jerk, I turn my head towards Seven and mouth, "Thanks," she nods. Shift her attention to the skully warriors emerging from below ground. Her branches grew into towering trees, swallowing Faeries one by one. Pounding them to dust. 

I can't sense death as they disintegrate to ash. Either Seven took them somewhere else or held them prisoner inside her trees. That shouldn't be my concern now. 

Dad has clearly given me his answer. Lista too. There will be no mercy for them now. Without warning, I grab Lista's ankle and slammed him in the ground, hard. My shadow spreading into his feet like wildfire. He yelped. He kicked and flail and hit me in the face. I  was sent toppling two meters away. 

I recovered quickly. Lista is having trouble trying to stand on his feet. His ankles are slowly decaying right before his eyes. His face turning red. He's puffing his cheeks to prevent his throat to scream.

With my hand blazing with shadow I charge, aiming straight to his heart. Dad deflected me. Slicing my fist in the air. The shadow in my hand disappeared. My blood abruptly cut off, the shadow dust swirled around my wrist. Regrowing my broken bone.

Dad squared his shoulder, swing his gleaming sword at me. I stop him, while kneeling, both my arms on cross, blocking his own hand clutching the sword's hilt from moving another inch. He puff out air in annoyance. 

I grin. I swing as hard as I can. Hitting him squarely in the gut. He doubled over. I didn't hold back my strength. If you take the last seventy days of tortures, my strength has equally tripled. I could probably stop a running truck with my palm alone now. 

Make a dent. 

Just like what I did to the metal door of my cell when I'm pissed. He staggered for a few seconds, then recovered and come slashing the sword in the air. Aiming right at my head. Lista, with his feet halfly decayed like rotting dead body, stretch his hand to Dad, a ball of fire screams from his ear right to Dad's back. 

Almost instantly he became Hell man. Burning alive at this moment. No fresh barbecued scent of flesh came from him. The fire… I realized, is mixing with his green body. His sword caught on fire and he brought it down to me before I could sidestep. 

The other side of my face burns. Fire consuming my skin like a hungry beast deprived of prey. I tried to put my shadow over it. Trying to pipe the fire down. It didn't work. The fire has spread to my neck, down to my chest. 

I'm trapped in a difficult situation. Dad is having fun swinging his blazing sword at me. Each slicing and singeing my skin at head strike. Lista took advantage of me getting cornered. I was so focused on defense against Dad and pain from my flesh smoldering, my shadow at work on decaying Lista's feet stopped. 

He use that to heal his feet. One hand glowing to repair the skin, the other sending fire as obstacles on my way. I can't fight properly. The fire on my shoulder has gotten to the side of my face. I can't see properly. 

At my right, I caught a glimpse of two moving tornado clashing one another. Blades against blades keep hitting each time the two draws near. I caught the glint of armor on one of the tornado then a blonde flinging hair on the other.

Magnus. He's fighting the Dark Elf. Their fast. Too fast I can't see their movements. I just knew by sound they par blades five times per second. 

"Distracted?" Dad came up behind me. No time to react. He plunge the sword to my gut. It sticks out of my chest. The fire burning my organs inside. For the first time I screamed. For the first time I heard him laugh maniacally in response to my plea.

What he doesn't know….

It's lethal to come close to me. I kept him where I need him to be. I let the sword plunge deeper to my gut. My bones melted at the fire. I yawled in pain. Dad laugh with me. Lista too. I clawed on my mark. 

Called to the deepest, nastiest part of the shadow dwelling within me. The scenes of the skully warriors dying, the shadows evolving, doing whatever I want. Whenever I need them, giving me visions and dreams to what I can do. 

Each time I passed out from the tortures, images of me regenerating within seconds came as a dream. The day after that, it happens. When I envisioned I'd take all that bullets skully warriors fired at me in a form of shadow shield, the shadows did the favor for me.

So now, I need more. Extravagance. Death. Complete annihilation. I watch Lista and Dad dying on my feet. Bodies crumpling to dust, the skully warriors gone. Like poof, their bodies became specks in the wind.

Complete annihilation. No one spared. Only me, Seven and Magnus shall stand at the center of their piles of dead bodies. 

To my right, the clashing of Magnus and Dark Elf's blades stop. 

"Hey, where are you going?!" Magnus hollered. 

My heart, despite being pierced, still beats. A speck of black hole emerged out of nowhere. It thumps. Once, twice, thrice, it thumps at the same time my heart beats. A black crawling of ghost shadows was cast, I can't look away. 

I'm staring while not properly seeing what exactly is going on around me. That black hole devours everything. The world dimming away into soundless void. No screams. No clash of blades. No voices. No pain. A pure speck of nothingness emerged. 

As if we entered a realm where only shadows and darkness reside. I reach out to feel something between the swirling black mist. I see no light. No signs of light. 

At least… until someone spoke behind me.

"You're getting a hang of my power faster than I thought you would." His voice…so rich, at the same cold. So strong, at the same time solitary. As if the owner is a lone person living at the end of time. After the apocalypse happened and everyone was wiped out completely. Leaving him to himself, miserable, asking the question, over and over again…

Why keep me alive?

I can't entirely comprehend how his voice struck me deeper than I thought it would. Like our connection runs deeper than what I thought Dad and I have for all those years. He's familiar at the same time a stranger to me.

"Who are you?" 

The voice laugh. I can't see anything except black and darkness shrouding, caving me in. Trying to overwhelm me in its intimidating presence. But I'm not scared. I've been alone for some time to know what exactly is real and illusions I project are my fears. 

"I'm the deity who chose you." 

And then the darkness vanished. I'm staring eye to eye to a handsome dude with 1980's kind of vibe. He's wearing flashy red long sleeves with three buttons open, revealing his puff up chest. His black pants is tight around the leg but loosely flung at the part just below the knee. He's wearing shiny black leather shoes.

At some point, I imagined if Elvis Presley has a brother at this day and age, this guy would be it. His dirty blonde hair are waxed to stand up like corns growing at his scalp. He's wearing shady dark glasses that could get him the famous theater performer back when technology is at its developing stage.

"Nice to finally meet you, Lance. I'm Pente. The Deity of Death."