05-23-2014, 10:43 PM
Hasan's conviction was admirable, but far too dangerous. He spoke contradictions in the same breath without a pause for thought. How could he talk of necessity in one breath and condemn physical and moral corrosion in the next? To speak of the frailty and infinite failure of man, yet remain so confident in his own holy power?
As Hasan spoke, Michael began to notice the change in atmosphere. Bodyguards tensed, unnatural silence broken by familiar sounds. He spied one of the Vega safe-houses. Instead of empty, three nondescript figures perched, waiting. It was a surprise, but Michael found he did not care. War was not only inevitable, it had already begun. Perhaps it may be for the best that they struck Hasan hard and fast, although Michael thought it would only make him a martyr and provoke the masses to madness. Yet, that madness could be used...
Without noticing, Hasan had leaned in close with an intense gaze on his face. The sudden shift in mood bespoke leashed violence. “I hope you will use your choice wisely....adversary?”
The words hit a wall of stone. Hasan thought he was a servant of this...Shaytan? Perhaps the man thought he was Shaytan himself by the look in his eye!
Michael spent a moment in consideration. He could end such madness here, but that would only spark further flames. No. He would not risk such foolishness.
Instead of an indignant protest of innocence he whispered under his breath so only Hasan could hear. "Now, the choice is yours. I would suggest you run or hide if you want to live."
Shouts erupted alongside the sound of gunfire as whatever team the Custody had sent to destroy Hasan made their move. Michael used the chaos to retrace his steps through the hospital to the source of the cry for help he had heard earlier.
Panic spread through the hosptial like a plague and soon the halls were covered with a swarm of the disoriented and wounded but he paid them little heed. Arriving at the cleaning cupboard, he carefully opened the door.
"You..."
Michael managed, trailing off. How on earth did she end up here, beaten and bloodied? Had she been captured? What of the soldiers, his orders?
He let the questions fade into the back of his mind as he lifted Dr. Weston to her feet with some effort. He was not sure if she would be able to walk on her own.
The fresh blood that soaked into his already bloody clothing ignited his anger. Heedless of Hasan or his men, he filled himself with the power of life until his skin prickled. The handcuffs that bound Dr. Weston dissolved like ice in boiling water.
If he was a fallen angel, so be it. It made little difference to him. Whether it was the gates of Heaven or Hell, they would shake all the same.
Edited by Michael Vellas, May 24 2014, 07:15 AM.
As Hasan spoke, Michael began to notice the change in atmosphere. Bodyguards tensed, unnatural silence broken by familiar sounds. He spied one of the Vega safe-houses. Instead of empty, three nondescript figures perched, waiting. It was a surprise, but Michael found he did not care. War was not only inevitable, it had already begun. Perhaps it may be for the best that they struck Hasan hard and fast, although Michael thought it would only make him a martyr and provoke the masses to madness. Yet, that madness could be used...
Without noticing, Hasan had leaned in close with an intense gaze on his face. The sudden shift in mood bespoke leashed violence. “I hope you will use your choice wisely....adversary?”
The words hit a wall of stone. Hasan thought he was a servant of this...Shaytan? Perhaps the man thought he was Shaytan himself by the look in his eye!
Michael spent a moment in consideration. He could end such madness here, but that would only spark further flames. No. He would not risk such foolishness.
Instead of an indignant protest of innocence he whispered under his breath so only Hasan could hear. "Now, the choice is yours. I would suggest you run or hide if you want to live."
Shouts erupted alongside the sound of gunfire as whatever team the Custody had sent to destroy Hasan made their move. Michael used the chaos to retrace his steps through the hospital to the source of the cry for help he had heard earlier.
Panic spread through the hosptial like a plague and soon the halls were covered with a swarm of the disoriented and wounded but he paid them little heed. Arriving at the cleaning cupboard, he carefully opened the door.
"You..."
Michael managed, trailing off. How on earth did she end up here, beaten and bloodied? Had she been captured? What of the soldiers, his orders?
He let the questions fade into the back of his mind as he lifted Dr. Weston to her feet with some effort. He was not sure if she would be able to walk on her own.
The fresh blood that soaked into his already bloody clothing ignited his anger. Heedless of Hasan or his men, he filled himself with the power of life until his skin prickled. The handcuffs that bound Dr. Weston dissolved like ice in boiling water.
If he was a fallen angel, so be it. It made little difference to him. Whether it was the gates of Heaven or Hell, they would shake all the same.
Edited by Michael Vellas, May 24 2014, 07:15 AM.
"She saw a flaring halo around his head, radiant in gold and blue. It shouted of glory and power to come"
"No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it."