Jeremiah tilted his head at the finger, his eyes constricted as he sighed. “I just found out the truth, now Thidos decides to kill me for it.”
He unwrapped a cherry lollipop and popped it in his mouth, chewing slow, eyes never leaving the attacker.
“It’s a shame.” The attacker shook their head— their ‘short brown’ hair flicked side to side alongside their mask; their eyeholes weren’t visible any more and instead blinded by a white light.
“Pink eyes— I can’t recall someone working here like that.” Jeremiah shrugged, he turned his head to the trembling Micheal on the floor— lifting his eyebrows, “You know anyone?”
Micheal was partially foaming, his legs began to tremble profusely as his heart rate elevated.
“He won’t be much use for this— that’s why I won’t have to kill him thankfully.” The individual waved at Micheal— their hands were covered with a thick leather glove, perhaps concealing their hands so the murder weapon would not be discovered.
“When I read your mind…. nothing details your true nature or even identity.” Jeremiah smiled, his teeth glowing amongst the room as the ceiling stayed the same— pristine and marble. “You come instantly as I regain my true memories, or even if they are true— I have no clear cut knowledge of how Medea’s powers work.”
“You disappointed Thidos, remember how he first chose you— he saw so much potential and now you’ve squandered it.”
“You say Thidos— not the Lord, does that mean you disregard him… or are on the same level.”
The figure stood quietly for a moment, their plain deerskin boots tapped against the floor as they cupped their right hand on their chin— thinking.
“No… I am pretty close though, but why would I speak of Thidos that way. This isn’t a religion— more as if a monarchy.”
“You and me both agree to that, so what makes you stall and not brutally kill me?” Jeremiah’s horns twitched, spasmed as he grit his teeth.
“You don’t know my power— not many do so can you really be so sure I’ll just shoot you. Don’t worry, nobody betrayed you— I am not a relic from the past.” The figure nodded their head, spinning their pistol across their hands before pretending to blow smoke from off it.
“I’m not afraid to die, I just would rather pass away with meaning than just because I’m smart.” Jeremiah sighed, he turned his head to look at Micheal who was unconscious now; “May I guess who you are?”
The figure nodded, “There’s no way you escape this anyway, the exit is behind me and you are ranks below me, third Saint.”
“There’s no difference between being a Saint or Angel or a God. These titles are just meaningless, it’s only categorised by power that is observed by someone who can’t understand it all. Thidos isn’t omniscient— he may be the strongest of this world definitively but still, he doesn’t know all of our quirks.” Jeremiah puffed on his lollipop as if it was a cigar, he took out the carcass and flicked it to the ground— stepping and squishing on it with his feet.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Not a guess, try again.” The figure positioned the pistol to Jeremiah’s head— nigh point blank only restriction was the distance, height difference as well as this figure was inches taller. His right hand laying on the trigger, eagerly.
“Zachariah, you are the First Angel— aren’t you.” Jeremiah smiled.
The figure stood still, eerily— quietly.
“Keh.”“Hence why I didn’t want to kill you, perhaps we would’ve been friends in a difference world— now wait for me in Heaven, won’t you.” The individual gently took off their mask with their left arm.
His face was pale: sunburnt even as his eyebrows were thick and broad, his eyes were oval— the pupils pearl pink as his nose was upturned— lips curved into a grand smile. His hair was a short brown buzzcut as there was a scar from each side of his lips— upwards like lines across his face.
“Yes, I am Zachariah Timpleson, son of Thidos— what a sexual fiend that man is.”
He looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head with a manic smile cutting his face in half.
Plop.
“Huh?” Zachariah’s vision was blurred, there was a red circular object obstructing his vision— directly stuck onto his left eye.
“You people love speaking— that mask made you imposing but now you are just weak, for an Angel.” Jeremiah smiled before walking past Zachariah.
“Keh, you bitch.” The angel playfully spoke, spinning around as Jeremiah nearly approached the door and aiming his gun— preparing to fire.
“I can’t die just yet.” Jeremiah turned around, his face was cold— he snapped his fingers and.
KABOOM.
“Fuck me.” Jeremiah muttered. He crouched in the back of a ruined hardware store, red and white light bleeding through shattered windows. Sirens screamed outside, half-collapsed buildings sinking into the earth.
“FIND THAT SCUM!” a robotic voice boomed. “JEREMIAH DEMETRI— THIRD SAINT OF FLORIA— THE DEMON CHILD!”
He scoffed, quietly kissing his teeth as he rolled his eyes simultaneously. Jeremiah rolled against the wall, crawling into the shadows of a narrow hallway. At the end—an exit door. His fingers laid steady on the handle. “Famine’s old shop huh?” The teen smiled, he opened the door and walked through.
“I don’t even know how I got here— or even got out that infinite cathedral, perhaps it was that bastard Thidos wanting to let me live a while longer— he is fond of me after all.” Jeremiah looked up to the sky, the dark night kissed his faced as the moon was elegant— glowing. Beside him was a row of bushes— trees were everywhere, nature blossomed in the area; divine mother of natures kissed.
He stood still for a moment, basking in the divine moonlight.
“Is this really reality? What makes me even want to live— it’s just that human drive. I’ve been fighting all my life, just to be cared for— now what? I lost my first family, they hated me— disowned me and the kids at the school bullied the shit out of me. Saraline, Gabriel, Dara, Psylaiso— even the fucking head, my second family. Where are all of them now? I got split up— then I was with my third. Third times the charm right? Until you realise it’s all been unauthentic, Ilya— Micheal— even Felix. Now where is all that love? Dara loved me— I don’t even have her contacts, I don’t have anything.” Jeremiah’s eyes began to swell, tears forming as he begrudgingly wiped away. He dove into his left trouser pocket, taking out his phone and searching through the notifications.
“Come back home! They won’t do anything, I promise!” - Ilya
“Dude, what’s going on?” - Felix
“Brother! I just woke up they told me you ran!” - Micheal
“Let’s see how long you can run for— I’m seeker!” - Paris
Jeremiah stared at the blue light emerging from the screen, droplets plopped onto the screen as he then decided to look back up at the sky again. The moon no longer was bright luminance but instead red: an eye. A red circle split open across the sky, bleeding. The blood evaporated before touching the world. He kissed his teeth once more, “The Resistance may be my only shot of survival— I got to find it, but where?” Jeremiah took the sim card out the phone, snapping it before flinging it into the bushes.
“Maybe I’ll take a note from the Imp— be a real demon child.”
He grinned, devilish. Then walked.
Toward tomorrow. Toward death.
Rebellion was the only road left.