When a drug problem is getting out of hand and a long written prophecy is being brought up because of the appearance of a human boy, what has one one-winged, orphaned hybrid outcast got to do with anything?


5. Chapter IV

The last of the group had finally entered the nondescript building. Seeing as their two warlocks had put up a complex barrier that forced a weaker mind to simply not notice the already shady building, there was definitely a reason Lucifer wanted to investigate.

Just because I now go to school, doesn't mean I've thrown Slayer away. Besides, I technically haven't gone to school yet, my first day only starts in about 7 hours.

I snuck towards the entrance, my usual gear blending in nicely with night's cover, but stopped right before the barrier line. Scanning the area I concluded that there was no one to see me and my targets were already too busy conducting their business on the second floor.

Hmm. The warlocks might turn out to be a problem. This isn't an easy everyday mind manipulation barrier. It needs two experienced warlocks and one mistake in the formula could either cause the encased area to explode or the warlocks would be slowly drained until they turned into to withered bones and finally to dust after agonizing pain.

I couldn't help but admire their strength and courage to create this particular barrier when there were other less risky ones to create, but this one was more effective. Too bad it wasn't strong enough to stop me.

Still making sure no one could see me, I opened my 'drawer' and pulled out Slayer's best friend and trusty companion.

The cold, cool staff melded to my leather fingerless gloves. It's silver, identical curved blades located at each end of the staff gleamed threateningly in the still night under the waning moon's faint glow. Standing just a little taller than my 5'7, my weapon of my own creation.

Slayer's Scythe.

Just like my alias, not very creative.

Scythe, my black gear plus the fact that death usually follows my path has given me the title "Grim Reaper of Supernaturals" along with other equally unoriginal epithets.

After a final check of making sure my bandana was fixed properly, my shade was still working and another quick scan, I swung Scythe down in a diagonal arc twice in quick succession, spinning it in my hand with practiced ease so each blade hit the mark. The arcs bisected perfectly, the point of intersection on the barrier requiring a final aimed kick from me to finish the job.

The barrier fell, its power nothing compared to Scythe who was created by my own hands and put me in a fatigue induced, coma-like sleep for three months. The magic and energy spent on creating Scythe from nothing taxed me heavily, almost ending my life, and earned me a severe scolding from Lucifer when I finally woke up.

The warlocks would have felt their barrier break the moment I destroyed it so I had to pick up the pace. They'd be down to check what happened any moment now.

I dashed to the building, entering the deserted main lobby at the precise moment the first of my targets appeared at the top of the staircase.

It was one of the warlocks, the older of the two along with a vampire at around the same age of 30-something, visually.

They both recognized me and paled, though the vamp didn't loose much coloring.

I lazily twirled Scythe in my left hand, my posture relaxed and eyes blank.

Behind my bored exterior, I quickly analyzed the two. The warlock may have been the older of the two warlocks, but he was not as physically strong. The vamp was lean like most are and I figured that I might be at a slight disadvantage if it came to one-on-one with his natural speed.

I could hear footsteps, four pairs, come down the stairs and soon all six were standing at the top of the stairwell, each with matching shocked and frightened expressions.

Gee... Glad to see I have such an impact on people. Not sure I should feel proud or depressed that so many seem to be extremely terrified of me.

In total there were two vamps, both male, two warlocks, one demon and one demoness. They were all in the visual age range of late 20s to mid-30s.

The demon, a short stout fellow, stepped forward and tried to mask his fear by stating remarkably smoothly, "It's one against six. Even if he is Lucifer's weapon he can't beat all six of us."

His words seemed to be enough encouragement for the rest of his group to nod and they gained a little bit of false hope. The warlocks raised their wands, the demons unsheathed their magicked daggers and the vamps tensed in preparation to pounce.

And I dared to think it'd be different. Oh well, might as well have some fun before *shudder* school.

Scythe stopped spinning in my hand and I held it dead still, not moving a muscle. The vamps took this as their cue and charged at me, roaring with fangs elongating and eyes turning sinfully red.

I skillfully swung Scythe and jumped into the air a good four feet before slashing downwards to cut one of the vamps shoulder while the other narrowly dodged.

The one I hit, hissed in pain, dropping to his knees, as Scythe's blade was lethal to almost all supernaturals. I accidentally cut myself pretty badly with it once and was bedridden for a week. A small scar on my shoulder serves as a little reminder.

I spun on my heels as soon as I touched the dusty, marble floor and sliced the remaining vamp across his back. He fell immediately, face first into the floor and remained still.

Lazily, I faced the remaining four and grinned even though they couldn't see. What they did see was the flash in my eyes.

The demons came next, shaky and reckless after witnessing the defeat of the vamps. I easily brought them to their knees before I narrowly dodged a column of fire aimed at me.

Fire warlocks, just perfect. The flashiest warlocks of them all.

They were preparing another spell, no doubt another burst of attention attracting flames. I dashed towards them and kicked the youngest to the floor, disrupting the spell before completion.

As soon as the young warlock hit the floor, I backed away, preparing for the backlash of an uncompleted spell.

One of the dangers of spell casting, especially powerful offensive ones, was if the witch or warlock couldn't complete the spell. They already called up an amount of magic, greater amounts depending on the strength of the spell and castor, and if the energy's path is interrupted it generally doesn't turn out well.

In this case, the backlash finished my job for me. The magical pent up energy convulsed on itself and exploded.

I raised my hands to shield my face instinctively even though Scythe could repel most of the raw release.

I didn't pass out for three months for nothing. Scythe was one of the best weapons in the Underworld and is one of a kind. I never even let Lucifer touch my baby.

When it was safe to open my eyes I took in the damage, preparing a quick report to send to Lucifer and deciding how many officers and medics to call.

I put Scythe away and took out the new phone from my pocket to send a quick text to Lucifer.

Done. 2 wrlks, 2 dems, 2 vamps. 1 wrlk dead, rest out. Need small clean up, spell fail.

I got a reply almost immediately.

Good job, faster than normal. Can you write better sentences? I'll take care of the rest you go back to school. Get some sleep school starts in 5 hours, don't be late on your first day. Night Nyx.

You do realize you just said 'Night Night', right?

Haha very funny. Go to bed.

Fine. See you.

I ended the conversation and tucked the phone away to leave the building. The phone made communication a lot easier and I wondered why I never got one before.

Oh that's right. I was always around the only person I ever talked to and could teleport to him if it was urgent. But now I live in School.

As I greeted the cold, early morning air, I slinked into the closest alley, hiding from any sort of eyes, prying or uncaring.

The alley was deserted and the stench of puke, trash and decay filled my covered nostrils. Broken needles, bottles, cans and unidentifiable waste littered the corroding concrete stained from various substances best left unknown.

Taking extra precautions I hid behind a rancid smelling trashcan and closed my eyes. I drew my new dorm room in my head. The off-white bed still carrying the untouched books and uniform, cream walls lacking a personal touch, luggage still packed and curtains covering the windows I still hadn't bothered to look at.

The tingling sensations returned, though stronger than when Lucifer had transported me since he was much more powerful than my magic coupled with the necklace and bracelet. I felt the amber pendant mildly heat up as I used it as my teleportation medium and my bracelet helped to enhance my powers.

Teleportation is not in my capabilities, so I was almost entirely using the necklace, supplying it with my magic.

Just when I thought I was going to make it on the first go, the tingling turned into a zap and my eyes flew open as I staggered against the wall.

Damn, and I almost got it.

It had taken me almost 4 tries to leave the school in the first place.

Getting my breath back, I tried again.

My breathing evened out to an almost sleep-like rate and I brought up the image again. The tingling buzzed my skin, the sound filling my ears until I felt myself crumble into dust, floating and then reforming.

When I was fully materialized in my room, I staggered, completely exhausted. I had to use the desk to hold my body up.

That drained me more than I thought it would. It wasn't nearly this bad when I teleported out. It's almost like I was teleporting—

"Holy shit. Who're you? Where am I? How'd I get here? What was that buzzin' feelin' and why do you have an eight foot wing growin' out of your back that looks way too real?"

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