Yellow flames danced around them. His brother, Kurt, was dead. His father, fallen. The air crackled with magic, the smell of brimstone. Pieter teleported within arm's length. He struck, an eldritch kryss knife streaking an arc of yellow fire.
Hans raised his hands, defensively. Unbidden, white-hot flames seared his fingertips. Magic, his paternal grandfather's legacy. Ordinarily, unwelcome. Not today. He swept the flames forward, engulfing Pieter before quickly subsiding.
"Well," Pieter said, in a voice not his own. "It seems the neutered cur isn't entirely useless."
"My strength, you can't understand."
"I understand," Pieter mocked. "God is your strength." He lunged forward. "AMDG, right?"
Hans' hackles rose as sibling rivalry burgeoned into flames, again enveloping his brother. Pieter's amber-colored eyes widened.
I hope that hurts, murderer.
Pieter's knife sliced his chest through cloth, fur, and flesh. Hans gasped. The soft "bamf!" of imploding air--Pieter was gone. Fighting nausea, Hans teleported to his father's side. Nightcrawler's eyes opened. His tail tapped the ground weakly as he tried to sit up.
"He left us alive," he gasped, grasping Hans' forearm. "Charles. Logan. Family. I am to witness it."
"We'll stop it, papa. I'll stop it."
"No. Don't abandon your path."
***
The costume hanging before him was black, like his father's original costume, a white stylized Fitchy Cross replacing the red "V," with a place for a tab collar. His erstwhile brother would have no way of mistaking him, Nightcross, when he arrived to battle.
He put it on, testing the stiff material. Training in the Danger Room would make them both limber. He frowned. He'd had no intensive training since entering the seminary. What path would the walk, after this was done? He covered the costume with his cassock, grateful, as always, that the robe hid his flaws from public eyes.
About the Creator
Kimberly J Egan
Welcome to LoupGarou/Conri Terriers and Not 1040 Farm! I try to write about what I know best: my dogs and my homestead. I'm currently working on a series of articles introducing my readers to some of my animals, as well as to my daily life!
Keep reading
More stories from Kimberly J Egan and writers in Fiction and other communities.
The House of Usher
The ocean water was warm. It lapped over her feet and ankles, the ripples creating eddies of sand as she stood, staring into the horizon. Kasey had no idea what it was she thought she'd see, but she stood, nevertheless, until a tiny crab had a grab at her Achille's tendon. Time to move on. Even a few steps might make the difference. Small steps had already made a difference in other parts of her life.
By Kimberly J Eganabout a year ago in Fiction
Violence Begets
"Any last words, cowboy?" "None you'd understand, sodbuster." "Funny. That's Marshall Sodbuster to you. But I meant some last nugget that would help us in the adjudication of the myriad offenses counted against you and your gang. I wasn't asking for penitence."
By Adam Diehl3 days ago in Fiction
The Library
Nihil River flowed through Neocity, curving under a wooden bridge near the Library. Mathilde had been walking along the river for the past few days. Not having her own transportation put her in a category of people needing special attention. However, special attention required money, which she didn't have to spare. She had been saving all the money from Mr. Burry's generous pocket, carefully putting it aside for this adventure. An adventure and an escape. It was the first journey she had embarked on since turning twenty. Children were no longer children at this age and could now choose for themselves. Mathilde had slipped from her parents' orbit, especially her mother's.
By Moon Desert3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Tough prompt, but Kimberly Egan rises to the challenge! Crisply written, with short but vivid descriptors that allowed me to *see* the story in my mind! Want to hear more about Nightcross!