Diamond Shards

Chapter 4 : The Beast

            The tip of the black revolver was smoking. Jenkins held it firmly, like a knight holding a leather grip on a hilt of a silver sword against a dark green dragon. The creature he shot had a hole in its stomach that could be seen through, behind it was the wall with the splatter of blood. The flesh surrounding the wound began bubbling and then stretched, sealing the wound shut. The creature's face cringed with pain and rage. It roared, stunning Jenkins. It looked at Jenkins straight into his eyes with its glowing red eyes. Creature against man. Except the man was limited to the amount of times he could fight back.

Bryce could see the hopelessness in the situation. As soon as Jenkins ran out of bullets, the chances of survival were slim to none for both of them. A voice ringed in his head. We can't it said. We can't die here, but it's not up to us to decide that anymore. We're finished. Tears began running down his cheeks that had lost their color due to the terror in front of him. He felt a black flame in his heart, melting his courage and hope away. Each time he looked at the beast's eyes, the flame grew hotter, making him sweat as well. Fear, he thought, true fear.

"It makes sense now," said Jenkins with a voice that hinted fatigue. During his time as a detective, he would race in the streets on foot, chasing a suspect who revealed himself as the crime doer. Jenkins could vividly remember having enough stamina to be a competitive athlete, but the panic in his mind made him exaggerate in that very moment. He would be sixty years old in November, and the fact that his body was not what it used to be weighted on him. He shouted with anger, still holding the revolver, "All those clues a few years back, the red scale, it came from you didn't it? Didn't it!? You're the one...who killed my dear Erika. Perhaps the most kindest person to walk this Earth. I'll make you repent."

"If I'm being honest," the beast spoke with a deep voice that could only belong to a demon. It formed a wide smile, revealing sharp yellow teeth that could belong to a white shark. It made Bryce tremble and quietly moan with fear. It laughed and finished, "...I was feeling quite hungry at the time, and I needed a meal. I shouldn't have bothered and chosen her, you're right, because she wasn't even a meal. That poor fool was not even a snack. There was barely any meat stuck to those thin aged bones of hers. And that smile she wore, it annoyed me."

Jenkins shook in place, not with fear, but with fiery wrath. He frowned and revealed a few missing teeth. He let out a mighty shout that contained both anger and sorrow. The creature roared back and charged towards Jenkins, who was ten feet away. Jenkins slipped through it, like a phantom. Bryce gazed with confusion as he saw half of Jenkins pop out of the creature's body and the other half still on the floor. Jenkins performed a dodge roll, and quickly turned to the beast's back, pointing the revolver at it's head. He tilted to the right and shot the left horn off.

The creature cried in pain, "You're dead for that, you weak little shit!"

"I imagine it feels like using a nail clipper on a tooth, ain't it?" asked Jenkins still pointing the smoking gun. The creature turned around fast, almost instant. It's eyes began to glow green, which invoked a lightheaded feeling into Jenkins. He touched the floor and couldn't slip through it, the opposite of what he expected. "Two abilities? Ability erasure and this demonic lycanthropy?"

Jenkins chuckled and smirked at the simple solution. He still had a revolver with his deadly aim to accompany it after all. He pointed at the left eye. Bang. He switched to the right eye. Bang. The smoke and his weakening eyes stopped him from seeing the result of his gunslinging. He was confident he had blinded the creature and laughed loudly and wore a mocking smirk. The smirk he would wear as he glared into the eyes of the criminals he put behind bars. The same ones who swore they would escape and murder him and everyone he loves dearly. The smirk really did warm his heart.

The creature roared with laughter and Jenkins noticed it's perfectly intact eyes. Jenkins' face was consumed with fear and panic. He took a step back and the creature charged towards him, ramming the right horn into his chest. It was a bull and Jenkins the Matador who played with the flames of risk and confidence. Cockiness. Jenkins grunted with pain, holding in a scream.

Bryce's eyes grew with shock and the feeling of hope he held onto faded. He intended to shout but barely managed the words as a whisper, "Jenkins, this can't be." The voice in his head continued to talk. Allow us to leave, it said, allow us to run and not look back. Running is the only thing we can do. The only thing we've ever done. Bryce let out a frustrating cry and punched the floor. His fist stung with pain as soon as it made contact. "Why am I so useless," he cried, a hint of anger in his voice. Maybe that's why father beats us. Maybe that's why mother left. We've always been useless, and that's all we'll ever be. "No!" he finally shouted as he gripped and pulled his hair with anger. The creature dropped Jenkins from it's horns and turned to glare at Bryce, who had an angry river of tears pouring down from his eyes. He stood slowly; his stomach hurt with nausea and his head began to ring with pain. You're useless, Bryce Vasquez! Useless! He let out a loud sob. The wind outside began to grow with his emotion, sounding like a howl against the branches that shook with its mighty strength. He whispered calmly, "Maybe...no...I  definitely am useless and afraid." He took a step forward towards the beast, his legs trembling. He leaned against the wall and vomited on the floor, ejecting his lunch. Bryce wiped his mouth and looked into the beast's eyes. "But that's only one side to me, like a coin with a head and tail. I won't let you kill Jenkins and let you get away with murdering his wife, you devil," shouted Bryce, his teeth chattered, and his stomach burned with anxiety.

His body began to emit a green aura and shot green sparks of lightning. The SpongeBob puzzle he owned as a kid flashed into his mind, a frame of the blood splattered on it flashed next. Another flashback of his father holding him by the collar after bruising his eye flashed into him. The memory of the pain also surfaced, and goosebumps sprinted through him. This pain, said the voice, we must cast it away! "No," said Bryce firmly. He pointed at the creature and shouted, "It's a part of my true self, whether I like it or not!" The creature charged towards him, pointing the same horn, not at his chest, but his head.

He could hear the noise of a clock being broken in the distance. Tick tock. The creature was frozen in place, breaking the Law of Inertia. Bryce took a step towards it, feeling as if his legs would shatter like glass any second. His head felt like thousands, no, millions of phones vibrating and ringing all at once. Painful ringing. Deadly ringing. Tick tock. He knew two seconds had passed. He was now in front of the creature, staring into it's glowing green eyes. They looked like emeralds or green diamonds. Bryce decided to tap them, not once, but a hundred times. His head rung once more, but this time he debated whether to claw his brain out or not. He had never experienced a headache that he'd call a human nuclear meltdown. Tick tock. Three seconds passed and he walked behind the creature, out of its fire zone, and made his way to Jenkins slowly. Each step made his head grow with pain tenfold. His nostrils fired out blood like a shotgun and he dropped to his knees. A painful grunt escaped him. Tick tock. Time resumed and the creature managed to stop itself against the wall once it noticed Bryce was no longer there. Four seconds had passed for Bryce, but zero for everyone.

"You stupid shit! You've made job way easier!" said the beast as it screeched with laughter. It suddenly stopped moving and Bryce could see worry on it's face. The emerald eyes shattered and exploded into tiny pieces of gore. Tears of blood welled in the sockets of the beast and they began pouring down as it cried like a newborn who was dropped at a height of five feet. "This! This is not even remotely possible!" it growled and broke through a wall, disappearing into the sunset view. "I will remember your name and face, Bryce Vasquez!" it shouted from the distance.

Bryce ignored the shout and crawled towards Jenkins who stared at him with a dying look and awe. "Jenkins," he said weakly. Crimson red blood continued to flow out of his nose like a stream and dropped to the ground. He fell face first on his small puddle of blood. "Am I," he said, his breathing was heavy and jagged, "still useless?"

He blacked out; his final thought was the image of a Tarot card. The Fool.