Crimson Knightfall

Chapter 27. Peter

Chapter 30. Peter:

Rage controlled his senses, all he saw a tunnel of red. How apt that it happened to be nothing but flames and smoke that billowed around in the air. Abraxan had practically floated away into the darkness. He was alone in his rage, alone in his anguish, he didn't have much time to think either. Dad was dead, Aries, gone, dead, too...

Could Vyrima be right? Or, like most of his life, and how it all ends, did he lose his best friend, and puppy, as well? He always felt a vibe in the air, like Aries would always be there, and he felt...disconnected, broken, beyond dark. Is this what being evil means? He didn't feel much more than rage. Somehow, that comforted him, rather than just being numb.

"The next Shadowfang, ha. You've lost, lost your father, now your puppy, your kingdom is next. After Alex is done, your world will burn, burn more than you've ever seen. The Unholy Trinity has already come together. Liberate the world." Abraxan's laughter echoed in the air around him, it snaked like a coil around his throat. Dancing with his pain, his numb sense of rage.

"Sure, let's dance, Abraxan. You messed with Vyrima,you killed my father and I'm going to make you pay!" The smoke had cleared, and Peter realized he stood in a dark pit, the same one that Abraxan would trap him in while he played around with Vyrima's mind as she slept.

"I've moved on to bigger and better things, young Peter. When Jinx and Micheal freed me, they helped me open my mind yet again to other avenues previously untouched." Abraxan's voice was low with a withery hiss.

"I seriously doubt that." Peter bit back. Abraxan laughed as he put his hand by Peter's right ear, an invisible wall seemingly materializing out of thin air. Peter finally seemed to see the blood red eyes that flashed back at him, the dark cunning smile, razor-sharp teeth, and the skin, mottled and boiled, like souls screaming for help.

"I could be your ally, Petrov Wulfric. Grandson of the Almighty Beezle. You are your father's son. And I would even help heal Vyrima...not that she would ever accept my help, rightly so. I probably went way too far when playing with her. It was all so much fun though." Abraxan giggled, high pitched.

"Never, not after what you just did to my dad. You raped Vyrima. Over and over again. She would hate me if I even remotely considered it." Peter spat. "Once a rapist, always a rapist."

"Isn't there always a silver lining with you hero types? I seem to remember in the legends, appeal to your inner human nature to forgive and forget. Is that not a thing anymore?" Abraxan circled Peter like an animal to its prey.

"You. Killed. My. Father. Why would I just simply forgive you? Are you that stupid?" Peter snapped.

"I'll take that. You have a point, boy." Abraxan's eyes glowed red, reflecting the glint of the flames that surrounded them. The heat bit into the air, and Peter felt it lick his skin.

"I thought you hated mortals. I remember that being something you said years ago." Peter said he took a deep calming breath. He had to keep his mind clear, all he wanted was to kill...but to do that, was to become Abraxan.

"Yes, and no..." A moment of silence passed as Abraxan laughed, his voice snaking around Peter, a strand of smoke, "You are no mere mortal, you are the grandson of an archangel. Dear old Dez the almighty father of all, always about hope and love...after he got done with destroying the world a couple of times. Him and his fits...the irony." Peter could hear the snide tone in Abraxan's voice.

"I've known quite a few good ones. Like Rick, Orion, Vilus." Peter said.

"The son of Damien, who again, is no mere mortal...Vilus is an odd one who has proved quite useful, I'll give you that." Abraxan smirked as Peter scowled. "You know, part of the appeal of demon hood is that you appeal to your passions. Like you have with that vixen Arrianna. That beauty. I'd like a few rounds with her."