That was the only warning Seraph could give.
Archangel only had a second to jump away, his eyes going wide from the sudden impact of a spiked club slamming down onto poor unlucky Roger. The ground crumbled under the power of wood and metal, eviscerating human flesh. Blood gushing out of Rogers’ mouth, his spine and organs crushed and shredded by those metal spikes.
The impact was deafening. Seraph did not falter, not lose balance from the crackling concrete. However, she was on alert; both hands were on her sword; her heart was pounding as she felt the tension, the pressure weighing down on them, threatening to crush them as quickly as it did Roger.
“Well, Well. So these are our pests...” That voice was deep, guttural, a demonic sound matching the mask of the owner of such a devastating weapon. It stood up, casually on the crushed body while lifting the massive club over its shoulders. Red eyes looked over the both of them with and found them... wanting, “I was hoping for better prey.”
Archangel held up his swords, showing a brave face. His heart was pounding, sweat down his chin. The sudden horror of what he had witnessed was still on his mind, and he was trying hard to NOT focus on the crushed body on the ground, “I think we’re more than enough.”
“Oh, really?” The demon mused before suddenly lunging, the weight of the club not slowing it down. Archangel gasped, taken by surprise, trying to bring his swords to block the swing of the club. It seemed he would’ve been too slow if not for the katana of Seraph. The sword was sharp enough to hold back the club from crushing her partner. Archangel jumped behind Seraph, taking shuddering gasps to recover from that near gruesome death.
Seraph clenched her teeth, holding her ground, silver eyes gazing into the fiery depths of the demon, “You...must be Wrath...”
“Obviously.” Was the dry response, though a deep chuckle escaped the monstrous opponent, “Though I am impressed. Perhaps you may make a good meal after all.” Wrath used its other arm to aim a body blow to Seraph, but the woman was faster, barely avoiding it. Archangel gathered back his wits and took his chance to flip behind Wrath and slash one of his swords towards its back.
Wrath seemed to sense the attack, instincts more than well-tuned to a fight. It used the club to brace itself as it jumped and kicked Archangel away, landing to lift the club over its head to slam down onto him.
Archangel rolled away just in time, and as Seraph lunged to cut Wraths’ right side, he tried to take it from the left, slashing with both swords. Wrath gave a deep, growling laugh and blocked them both, using its club against Seraph and its left arm against Archangel.
His swords should have rendered cloak and flesh into shreds. Instead, the impact caused one sword to fly from his gloved hand. He held up his remaining weapon, struggling under the arm, pushing him back. How the HELL did it block that?! “What the hell are you made of?!” He shouted, fear clenching at his heart.
Wrath seemed to laugh louder at his surprise and shoved the two heroes away, not bothering to answer what it deems to be a trivial question. “Pathetic! You two will need to do much better than that against me.”
Archangel groaned as the shove caused him to slam his back against the wall of a storage unit, the wind being knocked out of him. Seraph held her ground, readying her sword and glaring as the demonic beast mocked them. Her voice did not waver as she made her declaration, “We are not afraid of you! We will take you down and save this city!”
Wrath tilted its head, its laugh silenced. “Did I give you permission to ‘save’ it?” The amused tone it held throughout the fight suddenly died. In its place, a roar of hatred erupted, “I OWN THIS CITY! I WILL RIP YOU APART!” That roar was shattering as Wrath swung back its club towards the insolent hero.
Seraph felt her heart seize in fear. Something about that sudden anguish, the eruption of hatred, shook her to her core. She steeled herself, lunging to meet the monster, before she had to double back, avoiding a bullet that hit the ground between them.
Wrath cursed softly, looking towards a far off building as their fight was interrupted, hissing out in annoyance, “Not yet!"
However, it seemed its order was too late as a towering figure jumped down to join them, this time wearing the vicious mask of the boar of Gluttony. The giant stepped in front of Wrath, shielding it.
Archangel finally stood up, shaking off the pain from his collision with the storage unit, readying himself to continue, before Seraph ran to him, gripping his arm. Her voice was stern as she spoke, “We have to go.” She motioned to the figure with the boar mask, “He is formidable and...” Her eyes look towards a building in the far distance, “... they have a sniper.”
Archangel cursed, angry at himself before turning away, sheathing one sword and quickly grabbing the one from the ground as he ran alongside Seraph, “The police should surround them, right?”
Seraph shoved him away slightly, turning to use her sword to cut away another sniper bullet aimed at him, splitting the searing metal in half. She continued to run, her eyes focused forward on escape, “I hope so.”
Her partner didn’t react to the extraordinary feat; He was used to Seraphs’ inhuman skill. What had bothered him most was that there was someone else who can match her; someone just as fast and powerful, who did not at all carry the same moral limitations.
Wrath, having no inhibitions to contain its blood lust, shifted forward, seeing the backs of its prey slowly growing small into the night.
Gluttony’s’ hand touched its shoulder, halting its movement. Wrath growled, glaring at its companion. “You better have a good reason to end my fun.”
Before Gluttony could speak, a loud shrill voice interrupted through the minuscule Bluetooth device hidden in their ears, “DID YOU FUCKERS SEE THAT?! THAT CUNT SLICED MY FUCKING SHOT?! HOW THE FUC-”
“... you’re...loud,” said a much softer voice, barely above a whisper. “Seraph...moves like...like you, Wrath.”
The shrill voice returned, dripping with venom, “Great, another damn bitch like you!”
Wrath snarled in disappointment, “Which is why I am extraordinarily angry at having my meal interrupted! Give me an answer!”
Gluttony finally took this moment to speak, knowing that the shrill voice of Envy would pout in silence, and the soft, wisp-like voice of Sloth would be silent because of exhaustion. “Darr- Pride had called in. Police are coming. Apparently, enough noise was made to bring several squads.”
Wrath gave a slight snort, “Fine. My prey ran away anyway.” It walked away, motioning Gluttony to follow, “Envy, meet us back at the manor; I’m sure Greed has a vehicle waiting for you.”
“Whatever, Bitch,” was the response. It was really an affectionate exchange, all things considered. Wrath smirked beneath the mask, “Sloth, we have insurance on this property, correct?”
Wrath chortled, “Then Greed will forgive me for this.” Its voice deepened on the next command,” Blow it up.”