Angel's Ascension: Heroes of Humanity (Book 11)

Chapter 9: Warnings

Slade hurried down the street with his journal in hand. With his phone in hand, he flashed a wide grin. He stepped into a bus and reached the middle of the aisle. His eyes wandered to the windows where neon lights flashed.

"What a wonderful night, I came here at the right time. Finding her social media account was a surprise, too." Slade crossed his legs and hugged his journal.

I could've made a move but no I must stick to the mission. There was also a large crowd so dumb idea to even consider. Slade flipped the journal open and read the message with a grin. With a finger raised to the line he snickered.

"Hey, is it that guy from the protest the other week? I think it is him but I can't tell." A woman in the back seat whispered.

A man leaned over to her seat. "So why is he back in the city? I heard cops were looking all over for him in D.C." He added. The two continued to whisper and a few audible gasps left their mouths.

Slade glanced back at them with a frown. "Supernaturals talking about me again, huh? Just like humans they too are clouded with fear and hatred of those they cannot understand." He bowed his head and closed his eyes. A low hum of the bus engine calmed his senses while he eased back into his seat. The memories of last year played through his head while voices echoed.

***

"Hey, the madness is over the humans have regained their senses and aren't going to hurt you. It was Malseph who was behind the crazy genocide, the people were just his pawns!" Slade yelled. He stood in a crowded street with tears in his eyes. His hands were bruised and bloody while he struggled to stand.

A man with a spiky tail soon approached him. "Listen, human. We don't care what you say or what humans are doing at this point. Your race tried to kill us and force us into those death camps!" He yelled.

The man punched him in the nose and sent Slade crashing into a pile of trash. His blood splattered against the pavement before he wiped his chin. Before Slade rose to his feet, a spiked bat slammed into his chest, and a sharp pain stabbed into his body. He stared at the large crowd and coughed.

"Why does no one ever listen to me? I tried to reason with humans and it failed. And the same has happened with you supernaturals, you're all the same trash." Slade kicked a can away. He darted down the alleyway and jumped on a bike. After riding down a hill, he traveled down the highway until he reached the ditch. Once at the shack, he slammed the door shut and collapsed onto the soft floor.

Nothing I say ever reaches them. They are too ignorant and stubborn to realize what's going on. I need to make them understand just how pathetic they are. Slade crawled to his sofa and pulled himself up. He flicked on the television and held a cloth to his bloody chest. The recording of Spades at the concert replayed as he watched it with a scowl.

"See, if more people felt the raw power and intimidation of a strong leader then they would listen. Malseph did that and nearly got what he wanted but his goals were evil. I need to have a goal that benefits the people who have no voice in this world." Slade clawed at his shirt and ripped it off. He tossed it on the table before standing up. Once he grabbed a soda, he entered his room and sipped on his soda.

A replica of Spades stood behind a glass container with masks on the wall. Images along with notes littered the lower wall when he flopped on his bed. Slade chugged down the soda and crushed the can while classical music played on a nearby radio. He grabbed a pen and dragged his journal out.

It's time to prepare and set forth a world where my dreams can exist. There will be not enough funds for anything fancy but we all start somewhere. Slade quickly scribbled words into his journal. His eyes darted from each one until he dropped the pen.