Blessings of the Curse

Untitled Part 2

CHAPTER TWO

Thick gray clouds masked the sky then emptied their bowls of cold autumn rain onto the city below. The darkness came quickly due to the storm. The police were finishing up with their questioning of the eyewitnesses which only left them with more riddles. The whole forensics team was shaking their collective heads with confusion.

He watched them scurry about in the downpour like rats in a sinking lifeboat. To him the rain was refreshing, streaming down his short hair onto his dark-skinned narrow face. The temperature had dropped at least twelve degrees, but he didn't notice. It wasn't because his hip length leather jacket was blocking out the cold, or the fact that heat and freezing temperatures did not affect him. It was the simple reason that nothing could be as cold as he'd become.

Like so many times before when he sat on the roof of countless buildings his mind wandered to the yesteryears. The clock tower that he was on now was the highest point in the

city, and he could see all that transpired below him in the town that he was now residing in.

How long that would last, he didn't know. From above the view was astounding. Excellent enough to see into the past. Unavoidably, his mind dredged up memories that should have long ago been laid to rest. Yet his skeletons beat down the closet door and floated into his conscience, there forever to torture and condemn him.

His sixth sense warned him that he was not alone in his high-hide. In a voice barely above a whisper he asked a single question: "What do you want?"

"I thought you'd be happy to see me. I'm crushed." The voice was laced thick with sarcasm, coming from above in the open air.

Draven smiled to himself as he thought of Secore being crushed between two gigantic boulders, bleeding from every pore in his body, and hid his smile.

"Why did you interfere at the school?" Draven said harshly, looking up at Secore. "I had everything under control." His lips curled into a snarl. He despised being near Secore and especially speaking to him.

"What are you so upset about, Draven? I didn't hurt any of the precious 'innocents.' You know I can't do that."

"You didn't have to kill the other two."

"Says the one who practiced origami in the bathroom."

"He deserved his fate-"

"As did the ones who helped along the way!"

Their tempers were beginning to get the better of them, even though they knew what the outcome would always be.

Secore floated down in front of Draven, his feet dangling in the air, and stared at him with malice.

"I don't have to prove my ways to you! Your brand of justice and mine branch off quite differently. You try to scare and coddle, always hoping for the best, while I deal out the harsh realities of the price they have to pay. You would've left the others to deal with the cops. Maybe they would get what they deserved and maybe not. You're gambling. I don't take those

kinds of chances."

Trying to stay in control, Draven put his head down and sighed, they had been over this since the beginning. It resolved nothing and inspired more hate.

Secore landed gently on the ledge of a gargoyle's head that watched over the city, beside Draven who turned to him, the defiance gone like a vapor from his eyes and he was solemn. He usually had good control over his anger. Usually.