Old Him...
Rain poured violently as the hate-filled warrior slammed his sword into the mud. He was wanted for nearly every crime on Earth. His rage was legendary across the land, and stories and lore were spoken about him. He was unhinged and always ready to brawl. “Bring it!” Enoch barked as he downed his liquor in one violent gulp. He was ready to fight, ready to live another day, and ready to die.
An up-ranking officer, who held a warrant, approached the drunken warrior. He stopped in his tracks, eyeing the rogue agent gripping his sword, ready to attack. “Enoch, you are wanted for numerous assassinations in our land! You have slaughtered everyone in your path! Your empire from the East, the RageOn clan, has publicly disowned you for your heinous actions! I demand you drop your sword and come with us. We can make this easy for you and your livelihood.” The officer waited to see how the drunken assassin would respond.
Enoch opened a bottle of dark liquid and smiled. “You might think I’m drinking wine right now. Well, it’s the pure, sweet blood of the men I’ve killed.” Enoch laughed arrogantly. All one hundred men instantly drew their swords and readied their cannons, charging at the horrid madman. Enoch’s pupils glowed red, and black veins spread through the whiteness of his eyes. His throat emitted a deep, guttural growl that all one hundred men could hear. They stopped in their tracks. “Hold!” said the leading officer.
Enoch dropped his sword, lowering his head and closing his eyes. He grew silent. At that moment, the clouds in the sky ceased moving. The air became unnervingly still. The one hundred soldiers stared at Enoch in horror as two wing-like appendages began to grow from his back. The men screamed but remained firm. They had heard tales of Enoch’s wings in folklore, but none had ever seen them in person. They believed it was a myth.
“You know, it’s hard having the mark of Cain from birth,” Enoch said in a low tone. He exposed his chest, revealing a glowing red symbol that emitted heat without burning his skin. The one hundred men held their ground, outnumbering Enoch. The leading officer raised his hand. “Charge!” Most of the men rushed at Enoch with weapons drawn, while some fired their cannons from the back.
Enoch laughed as the winged creatures fully emerged from his back. They quickly sprouted arms and slashed through the charging men with inhuman speed. The remaining men fired more cannons, but Enoch and his winged companions easily hacked the cannonballs into pieces. The sky rained sparks of shattered metal as Enoch dashed past the leading officer and hurled his massive sword at the remaining men. Screams of agony and death filled the battlefield as limbs fell to the ground and blood exploded over Enoch. He opened his mouth, letting gallons of blood quench his unnatural thirst for rage and destruction. He howled with laughter.
The carnage unfolded so quickly that the leading officer had not even turned around. In a split second, Enoch kicked severed limbs away like balls of yarn. He picked up arms and legs, throwing them into the air to see how far they could go. Scooping blood from the ground, he drank it greedily. This was not a man; it was a demon.
Enoch stopped and turned his glowing eyes to the leading officer. He pounced in front of him, leaning in close and staring into his eyes. “Now you know the stories about me are real. Leave me alone, and I won’t enter your village again...” Enoch spoke with stern seriousness. He wanted to move to another part of the world and live as he always had--in chaos.
The leading officer nodded, his gaze fixed on the winged creatures behind Enoch. They had faces, arms, eyes, and mouths. The officer, horrified, asked, “What are those things?”
Enoch snorted. “These things were assigned to me at birth. They follow me wherever I go. They’re a reminder that I’m destined to live in chaos until it kills me.”
The officer looked at Enoch and whispered, “I hope you live long enough to change.”
Enoch had never heard words like that before. He thought he could never change. With everyone else on the battlefield dead, Enoch walked away from the last surviving officer of the massacre
