That's So Wizard

Chapter 70 - Broken

There was an eternity of silence after she took her last breath. How much time had passed? Minutes. Hours. The man stood looking over a fallen angel, to the greatest emptiness he'd felt in his heart, and thus he was unable to move. Lately, he hadn't eaten, and he barely slept. The man's frame was naught but skin and bones. When he finally moved, he pressed his hands against the window, and stared at the city he so deeply despised. No. It wasn't the city. It was the people. To him, they were monsters.

Rage boiled up inside of him. He snapped, and slammed his fists against the wobbling glass, over and over again. The frame cracked, and his hands bled, but it didn't satisfy him.

"Why?" he shouted. "Why must you treat a human like a mangy dog? She only needed one thing! Why? So send your hunters then. Try to take me away. It is your fault that nobody trusts us! Who's the monster now?"

He dragged his fingertips down the glass. His teeth chipped under the pressure of his jaw, and the gaze in his eyes came from elsewhere. There was a darkness, brought upon by the sins of man, and whether or not that included himself was for others to decide. Anybody. However, said people didn't last long enough to ponder.

***

Skello sat in an empty room. There was a king-sized bed, but he opted for the floor instead. It wasn't long before that where was screaming and panic, and his hand was still covered in blood—not his own for certain. He didn't even have blood. Death himself had come to this humble abode, so quickly that the TV still spoke a few rooms over, but he wasn't listening.

This was somewhere in England. He was far from Canada, and far from his newly made demonic companions, but that was the power of a wizard. One could travel far, as long as one had a magic anchor there to link with.

A woman stood outside, and she was speaking with a few police officers, but a man stood before them, and it was obvious who was in charge. He was bald and a single scar traced up from his left eye to the top of his head, and the man was not only wide, but six and a half feet tall. It was directly business with him, so it took the other officers to calm her down.

"It was horrible," she stuttered. "My husband. He cut him up. Is he okay? Please tell me he's okay."

"Your husband is being tended to on his way to the hospital, ma'am. His wounds were thankfully minor," spoke a nearby officer. "Now can you describe what you saw?"

She nodded. "He had a skeleton mask, and a scythe, like the Grim Reaper. And he—"

The burly man put a hand out to stop her from continuing. "That's enough. You all wait outside. This is my duty, and that's an order. I'll be right back. This won't take long."

As he stepped towards the front door, one of the officers whispered to the other. "So do you know why he was suddenly put in charge?"

"A direct order from way above me," whispered another.

He swiftly kicked the door in with his boot, stepped inside, and slammed it behind him. Then, he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a pair of spiked brass knuckles, and he slid them over his fingers. As he cracked his joints, he looked over the weapons with an eager grin. There was something thrilling about the hunt.

Room by room, he searched. Finally he came to the master bedroom. The man burst through, and lo and behold, Skello was sitting still on the floor with his scythe laying down beside him. Slowly, the skeleton's neck twisted, and he met with his empty, dark glare.

"You know. You're a real idiot," the man said. "We've tracked you all the way from Canada. You think a wizard can go around murdering people without being caught? It's one thing to hide, but it's another to become a serial killer. I gotta say, you're a real freak."