06-29-2014, 01:39 PM
Blood was ripe in the dank air of the cartel hideout. With his enhanced senses Damien could tell that there were either an abundance of corpses or his revolutionaries had taken liberties in destroying the dead or dying.
His frown encompassed the darkness as wholly disapproving. With the Light he created a pattern mimicking that of a light bulb. When he had first created it, it had been used as a source of light to read after lights-out. This globe did not stand still above his head. It zipped through the hallway entrance into the open chamber in case any of Guitterez’s cronies were yet among the living.
Nothing lived or even moved. Three of his guard quickly ran ahead of him while two ghosted his footsteps that echoed in the night. Damien surveyed the night’s work. A dozen bodies littered the hall and chamber. Blood ran thick along the walls and floor, so much so in some cases the bodies were nigh on unrecognizable.
The air was tense with nerves around Damien as he approached the ball of light in the centre of the room. For a moment he stood, staring with an unblinking gaze at the death that had been dealt here.
“Sir... Lady Estande is waiting...”
a small came from one of his nervous guard’s.
Damien turned to face the closed door on his right. Two revolutionaries stood waiting and light exuded from the room beyond. They shifted on their feet and did not meet his eye when he reached them. “What happened here tonight will never be repeated.”
Even his own five who had taken no part in the slaughter wilted at the hard words. “I understand your anger, more than you could know. However, we are not savages. We are better than them. If this happens again, you will face my punishment.”
The two men nodded quickly and opened the door as Damien signalled.
Inside Guitterez’s blemished face was battered and bruised. Rosita sat straight backed on the lavish bed while Guitterez was forced to his knees, his hands behind his head with four rifles jammed against his body. The distain and revulsion in the eyes of the revolutionaries was tangible and Damien feared one of them would kill his prisoner at any moment.
“You are dismissed,”
he addressed them in a calm voice. They hesitated only for a moment before complying. Rosita did not move as the door was closed behind them leaving the three of them alone. Guitterez seemed to be weeping.
“Stand,”
Damien commanded.
Soft teardrops were the only response he received from the cartel leader.
“Come now, Guitterez,”
he continued with soft steel. “You know how this works. How many times have you stood in my place?”
Weeping.
Damien’s gaze hardened. “Stand,”
he commanded a second time. The Light flowed through him in torrents as he jerked the feeble man to his feet with Wind. Guitterez slumped and Damien had to hold him. Rosita seemed amused. “You know what I am here. You only have yourself to blame, wretched man. Do you have nothing to say? Has the voice which commanded the deaths of thousands lost its courage?”
Guitterez whimpered as blood dripped down his chin slumped against his chest.
Damien took a step forward and Rosita made to move but restrained herself. Damien cupped the man’s bloody chin in one hand, forcing Guitterez to meet his intent gaze. “Nothing?”
Guitterez locked eyes with Damien for only a second. His eyes squeezed shut, tears mingled with blood. “Then die a coward and a monster,”
he declared.
Damien let the man’s head fall from his hand to the ground after it was sliced with razor sharp Wind.
His frown encompassed the darkness as wholly disapproving. With the Light he created a pattern mimicking that of a light bulb. When he had first created it, it had been used as a source of light to read after lights-out. This globe did not stand still above his head. It zipped through the hallway entrance into the open chamber in case any of Guitterez’s cronies were yet among the living.
Nothing lived or even moved. Three of his guard quickly ran ahead of him while two ghosted his footsteps that echoed in the night. Damien surveyed the night’s work. A dozen bodies littered the hall and chamber. Blood ran thick along the walls and floor, so much so in some cases the bodies were nigh on unrecognizable.
The air was tense with nerves around Damien as he approached the ball of light in the centre of the room. For a moment he stood, staring with an unblinking gaze at the death that had been dealt here.
“Sir... Lady Estande is waiting...”
a small came from one of his nervous guard’s.
Damien turned to face the closed door on his right. Two revolutionaries stood waiting and light exuded from the room beyond. They shifted on their feet and did not meet his eye when he reached them. “What happened here tonight will never be repeated.”
Even his own five who had taken no part in the slaughter wilted at the hard words. “I understand your anger, more than you could know. However, we are not savages. We are better than them. If this happens again, you will face my punishment.”
The two men nodded quickly and opened the door as Damien signalled.
Inside Guitterez’s blemished face was battered and bruised. Rosita sat straight backed on the lavish bed while Guitterez was forced to his knees, his hands behind his head with four rifles jammed against his body. The distain and revulsion in the eyes of the revolutionaries was tangible and Damien feared one of them would kill his prisoner at any moment.
“You are dismissed,”
he addressed them in a calm voice. They hesitated only for a moment before complying. Rosita did not move as the door was closed behind them leaving the three of them alone. Guitterez seemed to be weeping.
“Stand,”
Damien commanded.
Soft teardrops were the only response he received from the cartel leader.
“Come now, Guitterez,”
he continued with soft steel. “You know how this works. How many times have you stood in my place?”
Weeping.
Damien’s gaze hardened. “Stand,”
he commanded a second time. The Light flowed through him in torrents as he jerked the feeble man to his feet with Wind. Guitterez slumped and Damien had to hold him. Rosita seemed amused. “You know what I am here. You only have yourself to blame, wretched man. Do you have nothing to say? Has the voice which commanded the deaths of thousands lost its courage?”
Guitterez whimpered as blood dripped down his chin slumped against his chest.
Damien took a step forward and Rosita made to move but restrained herself. Damien cupped the man’s bloody chin in one hand, forcing Guitterez to meet his intent gaze. “Nothing?”
Guitterez locked eyes with Damien for only a second. His eyes squeezed shut, tears mingled with blood. “Then die a coward and a monster,”
he declared.
Damien let the man’s head fall from his hand to the ground after it was sliced with razor sharp Wind.