by Sergio Black
“Silence, you old fool, you talk too much.” Winsor stares at Nefarious.
“This isn’t the first time I’ve heard that. Been a while though. Blame my ADD, ADHD,” Winsor chuckles then breathes out.
“I hope you’re fully rested. Today, I am going to disavow your strength, through the legitimacy of my intellect. Maybe we should eat first and take a breather, possibly do a few stretching exercises before getting the battle started?” Nefarious turns to the old fool who now has his full acknowledgement.
“For one, I don’t sleep, nor eat, and two, I don’t need to breathe unless it’s beneficial. And three, is that an official challenge?” Winsor smiles a toothless smirk.
“Well, did it sound like one? Oh boy, I sure hope it did.” Winsor displays a shit eating grin, intentionally vexing Nefarious and claps his hands while never breaking eye contact with the Notorious one.
“Up you, wretched beast. Today, we give Nefarious a taste of what lies ahead.” The wolves abruptly wake out of their deep sleep and prepare for battle.
“Let’s not waste any time then.” Nefarious moves from his seated position with the speed of a falling star. He attempts to cheap shot Winsor, pulling the Reaper Scythe from his back, he swings toward Winsor with the intent to decapitate his head. The Brown Wolf blitzes in front of Winsor with such swiftness that it astounds Nefarious. The massive wolf catches the Reaper Scythe in mid-swipe and encloses the deadly weapon in its jaws. The Brown Wolf glares at Nefarious with such ferocity it rivals his own. Winsor smiles and clasps both hands behind his back.
“What's wrong? Not as high and mighty as you thought you were?” The wolf raises its head without the slightest tell and lifts Nefarious off the ground. Swinging his weight forward like a kid on the monkey bars, Nefarious plants both feet underneath the wolf’s chin before giving a mighty push. The Reaper Scythe is pulled from the wolf’s jaws and Nefarious backflips through the air, landing on the woodland floor. Crouching close to the ground, with just a slight contraction of his fast twitch muscles fibers, he can spring his Herculean physiology in preposterous directions. Winsor laughs and jumps onto the back of the Brown Wolf.
“I see you’re pretty clever. That’ll serve you well. There’s a difference you know between cleverness and intellect. Let's see if you have the later.” Winsor smiles, and in his raspy voice he shouts, “Battle formations, you wretched beast! If you want to dethrone the Man known as HIM, you must learn to let go of all the dark forces you have been harboring; he feeds off of the negativity, your hatred only fuels his Magic. In order to come out the victor you must face HIM with a pure heart.” The Yellow Wolf jumps over Winsor and releases multiple lightning scatters that resemble net heads, but sound like a profusion of crickets. Nefarious dodges the barrage of attacks that turn anything it touches to instant glass. Time seems to slow as Nefarious’ eyes spin to life, enabling his ocular dominance. The lightning, in real time, moves faster than any Lidar can track, but to Nefarious it seems as if time slows and everything just trickles by. Nefarious dodges to the left and dodges to the right. The Yellow Wolf lands on the forest floor. Nefarious’ ocular genius gives him many advantages and a vast understanding of skills he had not experienced, including, but not limited to, absolute vision which allows him to see at a 360-degree angle that eliminates all blind spots. The bombardment of mistargeted arcs crystallizes over the stricken trees.
Nefarious lands to the grass and looks upward at Winsor who sits straddled on the Brown Wolf’s back. At first glimpse, it reminds Nefarious of a small rodeo rider on a bucking bull.
“Haha, I see you managed to elude those lightning bursts. Very good. That means you move faster than light. I appraised nothing less of Killian’s heir. Let’s see how you do against all seven.” Winsor whistles loudly and the Brown Hound he straddles jumps off the ridge, launching itself directly at Nefarious like a ballistic missile. Nefarious laughs.
“You old fool. Your fate is sealed!” Nefarious swings the heavy Scythe that cooks rapidly, wintry atoms, throwing off an amplified explosion that ultimately scores a direct hit against the mighty Brown Wolf, but doesn’t faze it in the least bit. The wolf continues to fly toward its intended target. Nefarious uses the smokescreen created from the blast and leaps toward Winsor, throwing the full weight of his momentum forward, then somersaults in a full circle, slinging the Scythe overhead with a killing blow, just before the Brown Wolf is met with the hand of death. The Brown Wolf beckons gravity to its command and reverses the earth's polarity, retreating itself backward, avoiding Nefarious’ attack completely.
The Brown Wolf flees toward the atmosphere with an open jaw, then accumulates dark matter, and fires consecutive gravitational bombs that hammer Nefarious into the earth. Winsor and the Black Wolf land to the ground, awaiting the rest of the pack who nonchalantly sit about and spectate from the cavern’s edge, pondering whether to join Winsor in the fray. One by one, each Wolf begins leaping from the mouth of the cave like a horde of Samurais, the wolves silently land behind Winsor, ready for whatever comes next. Nefarious claws himself off from inside the crater and leaps out of the massive pit.
He lands with both knees bent on top of the river that flows through the panhandle forest. “Playtime is over.” Nefarious zips and zags with blinding alacrity, then swings the Reaper Scythe at Winsor’s head. The Brown Wolf calculates the attack and bounds forward, propelling himself off the Scythe’s deadly blades. The Purple Wolf plays off the strategy initiated by the Brown Wolf and seizes the opportunity to charge forward, ramming Nefarious with such force there is a lapse in microseconds before the headbutt sends him reeling through the air.
At the following instant, the Grey Maned Wolf discharges a fusillade of liquid lightning that hits Nefarious directly in the sternum. The moist lightning feels like taking buckshot to the chest that would have killed anyone that wasn’t regenerative. Nefarious is further propelled backward and is blasted several feet through the mountain wall. Winsor sits and waits, staring into the smoky hole.
“Guess his executions just got smoked,” Winsor snorts loudly, not expecting what happens next. Nefarious teleports through the earth and bursts through the ground where Winsor and the pack sit. Nefarious grips the Reaper Scythe tightly and swings it upward. Winsor and the wolves jump high into the air to avoid the swinging scythe. Winsor grows increasingly nervous as he watches the Scythe cut through the air with deadly intent.
The Black Wolf shapeshifts into a fighter jet and takes to the sky, then shoots a dozen rockets in succession. Nefarious breathes in deep and lets out an immense breath of wind that barrel rolls him to the side. Nefarious slices through the oncoming torpedoes. The blowback from the explosion knocks Nefarious backward and through the sky. Nefarious flips through the air and lands on the trunk of a massive oak tree. Nefarious grips the Reaper Scythe at his side with both hands so the blades point toward the ground and with one mighty lunge, he splits the colossal oak tree into splintered oblivion as he soars upward through the atmosphere at the shape-shifting fighter jet.
Winsor watches in amazement at the demonstration of strength Nefarious has at his disposal, without even beginning to tap into the vast abilities at his disposal. Winsor fixes the round spectacles that hang on his nose. “You guys seeing this? Amazing, this is the future Messiah! Alright, you wretched beast, formation B!” The Purple Wolf whose quirk is enhanced physiology sprints forward and with all of its strength jumps off the ground and at Nefarious. Nefarious sees the oncoming wolf but is momentarily distracted by the wolf who had shapeshifted. The wolf locks Nefarious in its jaws and torpedoes him back to earth. Nefarious hits the ground and is descended upon by Winsor and the rest of the pack. The Yellow Wolf turns into raw lightning itself and hits Nefarious faster than he can react. The Grey Wolf follows up on the assault and spits metal balls that look like giant shiny luggies.
The metal pounds into Nefarious and knocks the Scythe from his hand, cocooning around Nefarious from the neck down. The metal solidifies, in
stantaneously creating a type of infallible straight jacket. Nefarious is spun around and now faces the White Wolf. The White Wolf, that had yet to partake, times its attack perfectly, shooting arcs of melted ice at Nefarious that pelt him in the face with such force that it strips large spats of skin down to the bone. Nefarious laughs and smiles, the skin that was ripped from his face heals just as fast as it had ripped off. The Purple Wolf snatches Nefarious off the ground and thrashes him about wildly, slamming him from side to side before throwing him high into the air.
The Brown Wolf that Winsor sits perched upon shivers a little and super charges its gravitational blast that’s then targeted upward. The heavy burst hits Nefarious with such crushing force that the pressure shatters every bone in his body. Nefarious flails through the sky helplessly. The Black Wolf re-shifts into a dragon and uses its tail like a baseball bat to hit Nefarious back to the earth. The Red Wolf waits until Nefarious is just inches away and unleashes a blast of scorching cosmic flames and broils the skin underneath Nefarious’ clothing. Nefarious falls back to the forest floor and bounces several feet. Nefarious’ body is almost nothing but a bloody skeleton. His regenerative abilities take hold and he begins to heal rapidly, his bones begin to contort in ungodly ways and the filleted skin that drifts in the air begins to return to his body like a puzzle set. Nefarious stands as his knee caps pop back into place.
“You will all die!” Nefarious raises his right arm out by his side and the Reaper Scythe vibrates back and forth, the edge of the blade shimmies free with a SHANK! then flips through the air. Nefarious catches the Scythe perfectly and twirls it before he backswings it through the earth, the ground cracks and erodes before falling away into a massive fissure.
Winsor’s eyes widen. “Formation C!” The wolves spring off the terrain and manage not to fall into the pocked earth. Nefarious throws the Scythe with such force that it breaks the sound barrier and carves an angle out of the sky like a boomerang. Nefarious follows up and uses the Reaper Scythe as a distraction and launches himself forward. The Purple Wolf just barely dodges the Reaper Scythe’s deadly blades that curve and lodge themselves on a mountain face. Nefarious capitalizes on the diversion and snatches the Purple Wolf out of the air and squeezes like an anaconda. The wolf yelps and Nefarious hucks the massive hound who falls to the earth like a wrestler getting body slammed.
Nefarious’ eyes come to life and the Star of Vergina takes hold, filling Nefarious with pulsating vitality. Winsor Magnus sits on the Brown Wolf, amazed. Winsor can see the kinetic energy gathering in the atmosphere then channeling to earth, encasing Nefarious like water going down the sink. Nefarious can feel a wavelength of atoms surging around him. The pent-up vigour assembling around Nefarious tears the skin from his body, and begins to fracture his bones. Ignoring the physical grief, he explodes forward in one epic burst. Nefarious seems to float momentarily, as he soars through the air so rapidly that he makes the Flash look mundane. Nefarious finds himself at the center point of the wolf pack. In the blink of an eye everything goes silent. Nefarious is inches away from colliding with Winsor when he expels his Sound-Surge, a rippling wave of devastating energy, leveling everything within a 10-mile radius. The trees, earth and the cavern itself are crushed like beer cans, but the wolves themselves and Winsor are unaffected. The Star of Vergina that swirls in Nefarious’ eye sputters out and ceases to spin. Nefarious falls back to the earth and lands in a crouching position. Nefarious’ chest heaves heavily while he sucks in air. Nefarious fights to stand upright and throws his hand out to the side. The Reaper Scythe shakes and whistles through the air at Nefarious’ call.
Winsor and the wolves land gracefully to the outer edge of the decimated earth. “Well, well. You have done well. I see, out of your own desperation for victory you have tapped into the ability to Sound-Surge, which enhances your physical restrictions. The more sound that surrounds you, the more energy you can absorb, which in turn makes your surge significantly greater. For one who has no experience using the Eye, that’s quite impressive. Normally, that Sound-Nuke you just created when releasing your 1st Surge, would have easily killed everything within its proximity. But these wolves are unaffected by energy-based attacks such as explosions, sound, radiation, guns. You get the idea. Oh, and your God Breath as well. You have exhausted the energy within the Eye of Vergina. Normally, that star, in the right hands, could sustain the user for eons upon eons. That Eye gives the user limitless leverage in different states of Surging. You, however, have managed to blow through it in this short skirmish. No fret, it will replenish itself with time. Until then you should yield, I mean, look at you, you can barely stand. Not sure if I’m astounded or terrified.” Nefarious fixates on Winsor and hates to admit it, but he knows he can’t fight on much longer.
“You old fool. This isn’t over. I’m not done yet.” Nefarious stumbles forward on nothing but pure will. Winsor looks to the Black Wolf and nods his head. The wolf shapeshifts into a mole the size of a minivan and digs into the earth. The mole reappears, staying halfway underground, snatching Nefarious lower body in its needle-like jaws. Nefarious looks down on the wolf/mole with homicide. “Die!” Nefarious raises the Reaper Scythe with one hand and is in mid-swing, when Winsor smiles and whistles like a canary. The Brown Wolf shoots a stream of gravitational energy that stops Nefarious’ swing. The Scythe is ripped from his hands and flies into the distance. The pounding energy caves in Nefarious’ sternum. Nefarious slumps forward and spits up blood while he gasps for breath. The Yellow Wolf materializes into raw lightning and disappears and reappears behind Nefarious, then snatches his head in its teeth and growls loudly, pulling Nefarious’ head back so far, he is forced to look at Winsor.
“Nefarious, you’ve lost this battle. You have just tasted a small iota of how great you really are. Unfortunately, I don’t have long to train you. We only have 303 days until the Gala. I can see by looking at you that you dominate over many souls that battle you for sovereignty. Indeed, you are special and you share the bond of vengeance. But that will only take you so far. I said it before, and I will say it again. If you want to annihilate our greatest foe you must let go of the trajectory, you're on, otherwise you will just fuel his strength. HE is a parasite that feeds off the worst cruelties of humanity.” Winsor pauses and looks over Nefarious momentarily. “If you only succumb to my teachings, I can show you how to hone your emotion and Superior-Ability just like I did your father. You and he were different in many ways but alike in so many others. Now yield and I’ll make you a Superior Knight, in the same manner he was…”
Nefarious’ sternum cracks with contortions and pops back into place. Nefarious stares at Winsor with dense resentment. “Foolish old man, without me your plans are useless. The only way I succumb to your teachings, is if you tell me everything. My father, the wolves, the Saviors, all of it. Then and only then, we will train with one goal, to make me the equalizer to those who answer to no one. I will become the strongest of our kind. I hate to admit, it’s obvious I misjudged you, and for that reason alone, it became my pitfall. But you’re still weak and nothing without those wolves, I would have killed you without any trouble.
Everything aside, Nefarious raises his hand then holds up two fingers, and it pains him to say it, but he bitterly utters the words, “I yield, now knight me…”
Winsor smiles and chuckles, kicking his legs on the back of the Brown Wolf like an infant. “Very wise of you. Although I doubt you could have killed me so easily, I have a few more tricks up my sleeve. Now, let’s knight you quickly, so we can move onto other prosperous yearnings.” Winsor whistles loudly and the wolves reluctantly slacken their jaws, releasing Nefarious. Nefarious flumps to his belly then claws at the devastated earth and pulls himself from the great hole created by the shapeshifting wolf. Winsor Magnus watches Nefarious with admiration. So much like his father, the sheer will of those two is remarkable. Winsor kicks his feet with a happy gesture. “Down, you wretched beast.” The Brown Wolf falls flat, lying down and Winso
r slowly demounts the wolf, landing to the earth with a small thump. Winsor hobbles over to where Nefarious is posted on all fours like a dog, raising an open palm to the sky, the Black Wolf transmutes into a replica of the Legendary gold sword of Excalibur, ZING! Winsor catches the blade and extends the tip forward then he slowly taps Nefarious on the shoulder from right to left and back again. “From hence this day forward you will be knighted as Nefarious Warstar, heir to Killian Killstar, one of the greatest Superiors to ever live. By fealty and honor do you promise to stay true to yourself and be faithful to the righteous?” Nefarious looks at the beady-eyed, old man and backhands his arm away.
“Whatever, I accept. I don’t need your help, the rest I can do on my own…”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
WARNING, BEWARE OF WOLVES
No.2 places his hand on Trevor’s head and looks at the Mad Doctor. The Mad Doctor has a contorted look of sickening joy and quickly nods. Do it. Trevor’s skin begins to bubble while legions of boils rapidly sweep over his tanned skin. Trevor tries to fight the scream that fizzes in his chest and instead lets out two words. “FUCK YOU!” Trevor grits his teeth and slobbers profusely. Trevor’s veins quickly oxidize to a roasting point and light up like yankee candles. The only thing Trevor could think of was his sweet daughter, Lisa Ann, how he’d failed her now, and how he’d failed her when she was younger…
***
Trevor Ryly waited until Lisa Ann was sound asleep in her pink sleeping bag. He peeled one eye open and laid there for a minute before quietly unzipping his own bag. He kept thinking to himself, ‘Am I really going to leave my daughter in the Panhandle forest?’ Trevor felt like Lisa Ann could outclass many men in her knowledge of survival. He had never felt indifferent when his own father had done the same to him, in the same woods all those many years ago. Trevor stood and quietly rolled up his sleeping bag, then tucked the firm mound beneath his armpit, he crept off on his tiptoes, not wanting to wake his daughter. He looked back at her, thinking twice about leaving her. Why, because she was a girl? During Trevor’s 10 years' service to the SS he had seen many women that would have kicked his ass to the Minutemen and back. He quickly shook the thought from his head. But he couldn’t leave without saying goodbye, so he crept up to Lisa Ann, bent over and lightly kissed her forehead. “I love you,” he whispered.