Chapter VIII - The Sons of Satan

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He came at me at speeds that rivaled jet planes, hitting me with quick punches that felt like gunshots. He backed off, and nicked me from all angles. I barely had time to react. I did my best to suppress the Wraith inside, only using my natural body to fight him. I was able to catch him, and smashed him on the ground with a Mega Claw, then he looked up at me from the dirt.

Max: I see we'll have to do this the hard way.

He spun around, sweeping me off my feet, but I dodged him when he tried to stomp my head into the ground. He was able to outspend me, and hit me with a wicked stomp to the chest.

Damn. I'm gonna feel that for a few weeks.

I groaned as the pain swelled up, and he held a sharp, rusty pipe over my chest.

Max: I'll make sure they forget you.

Me: ...I tried playing nice, but if that's how we're gonna play...

I stopped holding back, and let the monster within take hold, slapped the pipe away. I got up without moving, forced him back a bit, and he just smiled.

Max: Finally, a fuckin' challenge!

He summoned purple holographic swords from his wrists, and had at me. I was able to dodge most of the attacks, except for the odd few. I guess the Wraith is holding back too. I was taken by surprise with a boot to the face, and he stomped on my chest again, but with a lot more power, because I felt something break, as well as being winded and sore. I screamed in pain, an he walked past, and placed his boot on my temple.

Max: Any last words?

Me: Go to hell.

Max: Nah, I'll send you on a one way trip.

???: MAX!

We both turned to see a man, blonde hair, white sweater, and black jeans, standing on the edge of the clearing, holding a demonic sword across his back.

Max: Jake, you son of a bitch...

Me: Thank God...

He suddenly appeared in front of us, and forced Max twenty feet away. He pulled me up, tapped my chest with one finger, and it all healed.

Me: Thanks... You one of his?

Jake: Yeah, we're his.

Me: We?

From the edge of the clearing came two more guys. One had green eyes, long, blue hair, with a silver streak, all in a braid. Very Scottish. He wore a black muscle shirt, and baggy track pants. The other red hair, green eyes, a black necklace, black, ripped jeans, no shirt, but solid red tattoos, resembling fire, running down and up his arms, and halfway across his chest from each side, almost touching in the middle. They walked up to us, and we all stood against Max.

Jake: Listen, mate. We haven't been here in a while, but I know you. You're not the type of guy to snap because he's jealous. You need to stop being such an ass, and get over it.

Max eased up, and spoke.

Max: I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me...

Me: Don't worry. We all have those days.

Wait for it...

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