Owen Cavalier; Wattpad Version

Chapter 40; One Of Us Is Going To Die Here

Back in the open field, Drake and Michael were locked in a stance.

"One of us is going to die here." Drake said somberly, with a sort of hollowness about him.

"No, St. Claire, you are going to die here." Michael said.

"You know how much I hate you? These shadows, they're my father's. It's a black power from a soulless man. Using it makes turns me so far away from any good that was ever instilled in me. And I'm willing to tear myself apart just to take you down with me."

"I'm flattered."

"Don't be."

Drake pirouetted and exploded a swing at Michael's left, and he ducked under it. Drake somersaulted and brought down a kick that Michael caught, but Drake twisted and swung at Michael's neck, forcing him to let go. Drake tumbled backwards, and Michael made a spear of light and used it to close the distance between the two of them. Drake dodged, but only narrowly. He used the space between him to his advantage and sent out tendrils of shadows to spike out at Michael. Michael tried to dodge but one pierced his side and slipped between his ribs. Drake rushed forward but Michael retracted the spear and Drake saw it too late to dodge.

Drake felt everything move slowly. First, the skin parted. Then blood sprayed. Then it hit his trachea. It stopped there, this time. Michael grabbed Drake by his hair. He pulled Drake backwards. Drake coughed blood, and his neck attempted re-attaching itself frantically. The spear was back in Michael's hand. It turned into a sword, and Michael cut off Drake's arms first. He removed Drake's leg's next. He stabbed the sword into Drake's stomach.

"So here it is." Michael said. He went back to Drake. He twisted the sword. "Know what this is made of? Light. Just an angel's light. Beautiful weapon. It obeys only me. Guess which angel this light belongs to?"

"You're fucking sick." Drake spat blood.

"Yes, your dear deadwife. Oh, St. Claire. You can't imagine how long I've waited to do this! Ireally loved the way your head rolled off the first time."    

Michael punched Drake square in the face. Drake's nose collapsed with a sickening crack under his fist and blood spattered on Michael's arm.

"I mean... Beautiful, right? Demons. You kill, and kill, and it's never enough! She knew it was fucking coming! Delilah wanted me to kill her! She smiled as I slit her throat. It was fucked up. They made me kill my own cousin." Drake stared off into the distance. He was numb now. "They let a demon fuck my cousin like she was one of your filthy demon whores then made me kill her. And I am never, ever going to forgive you nor will I ever forgive them! Not until I die!"

A katana was lodged in Michael's neck before he could even turn to see who it was. "Then die." A voice said.

In one fluid motion, Alyssa removed the blade, grabbed Michael's wings and cut them off. Alyssa then shoved her hand through the gap between Michael's shoulder blades and blood gushed out until she felt her fingers close around his heart.

"Don't get me wrong, I fucking hate Drake. But I fucking hate you too. And if anyone is going to get to remove that ugly fucking mug from his skull, it's going to be me. As for you, I am you requiem. I am your repentance. And my voice will be the last you hear before you burn in hell." She said.

"Fuck me, that hurts. Did you rehearse that? I hope this speech is a good one. If my present circumstances are any indication, you might never get to say it again."