Doomsday

Chapter 10: The Masked Man

Peter narrowly dodged an aether vine aimed at his heart. He hopped back, the knives still levitation around him.

"Take cover!" Atticus shouted, forming an ice wall in front of him and Fiyeree. Peter rolled over to a fallen ice sculpture, throwing his knives with precision. The knives flew at the royal in the white mask, hitting their thighs.

CRACK!

The knives flew right into the wall. But it didn't make sense. The knives were an inch away. Unless...that royal could teleport or move at super speed.

In a flash, the masked figure appeared behind Peter. She ran her blade through his leg, before Lola shot a flame at the masked lady, causing her to disappear once more.

"Peter!" Lola yelled from across the room. "Cover me," She whispered to Atticus as she took off to Peter.

"Wait!" Atticus replied, trying to grab Lola's hand. He formed four long needles in his hand and shot them at the mist.

"We need to get out of here," Fiyeree said, covering a wound in her leg. It seems like she was hit by some kind of blade.

Atticus didn't have time to reply. Lola was still running across the room and dozens of small shards of what seemed to be ice were shooting at her. She ran a couple more metres, before a shard pierced her in the leg, knocking her to the floor.

"Lola!" Peter yelled. He tried to stand up, but as he did, the masked figure appeared behind him, sending one final slash across his spine with her long katana. Peter tumbled to the floor, unable to move.

Then, in a quick moment, the masked figure in the blue mask appeared behind Fiyeree and Atticus, a large scythe in hand. "Move!" Atticus screamed, pushing Fiyeree to the ground as the scythe swooshed past her head.

The man charged at Atticus, managing to strike him in the belly. Blood trickled down his black tunic. "Oh, you'll regret that," Atticus said, his hands turning icy. He ran at the man, his hand encased in a large blade. He swung the blade, but the man dodged with a lightning-quick duck.

Atticus swung his blade again, missing for a second time. He was too slow. The masked man deftly sidestepped the blow, then quickly followed up with a swift strike in Atticus's leg.

Atticus groaned. "UGH!" He screamed, lunging at the man, his blade aimed at his chest. The man easily blocked the blade with his scythe, before sending a sweeping arc at the ice blade, breaking it in half. Atticus tumbled back, but quickly formed multiple daggers, throwing them at the opponent.

The man spun his scythe, breaking all the daggers as they were thrown at him. He ran at lightning speed, his scythe swaying behind him as he ran. He leapt above Atticus, too fast for him to react, and then sent a painful blow to Atticus's right shoulder. The scythe landed with the menacing noise of skin cutting, and a loud scream from Atticus,

Atticus fell to the floor, blood trickling down his shoulder. He looked down in horror to see his arm in the corner of the room, ripped and in a pool of blood. He quickly attempted to stand up, but was stopped by another swift strike into his other shoulder.

Atticus screamed louder, his other arm flying across the room. He fell to his knees, his body in agony and his face filled with tears. The masked man lifted the scythe, ready for one final blow.

Suddenly, Fiyeree screamed, running at the man and tackling him just as the scythe went down. She sent multiple punches to the man and then rammed herfoot through his face.

The man fell to the ground, unconscious.

"Who are you?" Fiyeree spat. She walked over to the man and kicked the blue mask off his face. Her heart leaped into her throat as she looked at the man, lying on his back. Something was off, familiar even.

"No, no, no, no. It can't be," Fiyeree whimpered, stumbling forward. She had a theory but the chances of it being right were low, and that made her shudder. It couldn't be right. The man had messy brunette hair, covering his face. Slowly, she crept over and lifted the man's hair.

Fiyeree fell back in horror. "It can't be." The man who laid unconscious, the man who had just graced Atticus's arms with no mercy wasn't a notorious royal who had slain countless enemies with little thought...but their friend. It was Charlie.