Arc 3 - Chapter 30: Luke vs Sean

“Come here!”

Sean lunged forward, and threw yet another blind punch. Brushing past Luke’s hair, Sean grounded his teeth, and raised his right leg up. Like a spring, it was fast, but Luke’s instinct was faster.

Crouching down, the top of his hair was grazed by his boot. At the same time, he side-swept his left leg, the only leg keeping Sean stable. Just as Sean began to collapse … he took note of Luke’s vulnerability as well. Sending down his right foot, it was like an anvil, once it made contact onto Luke’s scalp.

Both men sprawling on the ground, Luke saw stars. Meanwhile, Sean quickly got up from the rustic metal.

“Gotcha you bastard.”

Quickly walking toward him, Luke balled both of his fists. Having his right cheek lay on the ground, it didn’t take long before Sean grabbed the top of his head.

Pulling back his right hand, he had his left grip on his hair. On the verge of pulling out his scalp, he thrusted his right hand forward. In such a quick motion—

—A gush of air escaped from Sean’s mouth.—

Feeling his stomach enveloped in flames, saliva dribbled from his lips. The pain was all stabbing, all engulfing, and he slowly walked back. While Luke crawled back, he noticed the good distance between him and Sean, before rising with trembling knees.

“Just give up Sean! You can’t beat me!”

Both boots were firm on the ground, and his hands were stationed to his thighs. His vision somewhat blurred, he could still see straight with untainted eyes. But once Sean hissed through the pain, he began to straighten his back.

“You can’t command me!”

Lunging at him once again, Luke was wobbly rather than straight.

Leaping to his left, he avoided another barrage of fists. Backward walking, side-stepping, he allowed his blessing to do all the work. But that was his fatal flaw, one that Sean saw right through.

Side-stepping to the right, it was like a game of soccer to him. To duke one’s advance, he used his ankles that were tightened with his legs. Following Sean’s example—

Something snapped.

“G-Gah!”

It felt like a hot knife plunged into his ankle. Tears already swelling his eyes, he hopped back with one foot, his eyelids widened to the extreme.

“I would call this payback for what you did six years ago. A broken ankle can’t fix a broken nose can it?”

Red still clouded his vision, down to his irises. His fists shaking erratically, his nails stabbing his palms, Sean slid his right foot back with strain. Adjusting the weight of his body, he dented the ground with his leather boot … before pushing forward.

And kicked him.

Sprawling on the ground, he landed on his chin. Swelling already forming, he coarsely breathed, while his hands grappled the rustic ground. Trying to dig them in…

—I can't...

The pain arrived slow. Like a plague that was taken with precaution, it spread through his cheeks and up to his forehead. Feeling one or two teeth be loosened from his gums, he couldn’t reach down into his pockets … as static flared his fingers.

—How can I beat him…?

“Get up.”

Luke released a slow breath, one filled with hoarseness.

Twitching his fingers, they acted like popcorn, even when blood circulation was slow. Dust encapsulating his jacket and his pants, it swept into his pinkish lungs. Coughing in cold batches, he growled from his throat.

—How can I do it … unless if I have to get pummeled … is it worth it?

“Get up!”

The bottom of his hands glued to the metal. Locking his elbows in, he soared all that he could to push his body up.

He almost tumbled from the energy he had stored. His ankle swelled in red, he had his foot press on the ground, worsening the pain by a mile. Arching his head back, he kept his hands against his sides.

“Even if you beat me to a bloody pulp … I’ll find a way to win.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Silence fell. From the spectators, it was like they were given a mannequin curse. Their hands still on their sides, their fingers balled into their palms … they waited … and waited …

Until a single droplet of sweat dribbled the floor.

For that single ounce of liquid, both men lunged forward to one another. Having his right hand tightened, and his elbow locked, he was right in front of Luke. Throwing his punch, Luke leaped to the right, even when veins gurgled his neck.

[You’re not ready.]

Returning to the exchange, Luke threw a right-handed fist at him. This time, it connected, as the sudden punch caught Sean off guard. Thrusting deep into his liver, he recoiled it like a spring, making Sean gasped out all of his saliva. Having it litter down his chin, even the air in his lungs drew out.

[You’ll understand what I’ll mean.]

—But look at me Dad…

He felt every inch of his scleras grow red. He sprang his feet forward, while the dry air muffled his lips and nose. Keeping his eyes locked on Sean’s hands, he felt like everything had slowed for only him.

—I’m not a kid anymore. And I’m not weak.

Like a machine, he plowed punch after punch into his stomach. Because he caught him off guard, his knuckles swelled with every hit.

—I’m a soldier. I’m a soldier … I’m a soldier.

Some of his knuckles bled.

Taking up all of the burning, all of the jabs, Luke continued his relentless assault onto the elf’s body. Cramps aching his whole body, it spazzed his muscles, and especially his back.

Instead of finishing the barrage with a punch, he sprang his foot like a spring. Tumbling Sean into one of the lockers, the cover looked to be already open. Pulling back his foot, he took a big breath of air into his lungs.

Circulating it in his airs, he glanced down at his own bloody knuckles.

—I am ready.

He saw his legs tremble violently, and saw his body hunch forward. Hearing a gurgle scour the air, something violent stormed out from his mouth.

Dumping whatever lunch or dinner he ate, streams of yellow and red swept the metal. Dragging his foot, the pain in his right ankle continued to swell. Biting down his lower lip, he only did it to somewhat hide the pain.

“Get out Sean.”

Both of his hands laid on his sides. His breath parching his throat, his vocals mingled and jumped against one another. And upon standing right in back of him, he didn’t have the strength to curl his fingers in.

“We’re too tired for this.”

Sean continued to grovel inside the locker, his fingers and hands all too twitching. The last of his bowels being controlled, Luke stopped in his tracks … once he took note of his rising head. Straightening his back, something low drawed out from—

—“All I wanted to do … was to make you all proud.”—

Time slowed.

Pushing his whole body back, while twirling around, he gained enough momentum to charge head on. Luke gripped the ground with buckled toes, and activated his blessing once more. His right ankle spazzing in blemish pain, he couldn’t dodge.

If he did, he would rip the bone out of his entire socket. Jumping back, it was the last thing he could—

—Sean passed through his body.—

His knees buckled under his own weight. Widening his eyes, the clone that charged at … wait …

Unable to speak, unable to even decipher his dirty trick, he felt the world turn upside down. Hearing a crunch of bone, something warm trailed from his lips. Whiplashed, he instantly felt the need to crash against the rustic ground.

Once time resumed, Sean pulled back his foot.

“I tried to be nice. I tried to play fair, but this is how you repay me?! For kicking me out of the group I found solace in!?”

His right foot shaking, he cured it by sending it to Luke’s face.

Blood splattering the floor, he pulled it back once more, and saw the red liquid travel down his nose. The leather being tainted with red, he balled both of his fists once his anger worsened.

Leaving everyone to run toward the two.

“All I wanted to do was help! But you took me for some idiot!? An IDIOT!?”

“Sean, that's enough!”

Kicking more into his face, another splash of blood littered the rustic ground. Even when he did it twice, he felt the need to hold back, as it looked like Luke’s nose was already broken.

“I never had someone treat me well! And that says a lot coming from a group that treats each other like family! So—”

“Quit!”

Grabbing Sean’s shoulder, Miles used his bulging bicep to push him away. Sending him stumbling a few feet away, he was taken by surprise, as he sprawled on the ground after his collapse.

Once he felt the cold ground, the white of his eyes replaced the red. His breathing finally in control, he raised his right hand onto his chest, while his left helped him off. Slanted eyes, gripping fingers, he couldn’t look at anyone…

‘I’m just tired … tired of taking shit for who I am…’

The rest of the Dark Angels hovered over Luke. Hope and Miles knelt down, their eyes tracing his broken nose. Blood gushing from the wound, his cheeks swelled purple, even though he was kicked three times to the face.

Luna and Benn both stared at him. Most importantly, Benn had his hand on Luna’s shoulder, her muscles strained in a boiling anger deep in her stomach.

[Be the best man you could be.]

Miles darkened his eyes for a split second, while Hope was just about to heal him. Her hands on his nose, Miles could only look down at the rustic metal … that held no reflection.

‘But how Coach … I need an answer…’

Luke arched his whole body up.

Blood tainting his eyes, it stung repeatedly; he ignored it. Miles and Hope tried to hold him down; Luke ignored them both. Already gripping the ground with his leather boots … Luke catapulted forward.

Sprinting in perfect form, his eyes took in the elf who quickly turned. Without warning, without reason, he extended his arms and hands…

—And stared at his neck.—

“W-What the—”

Tackling him without grabbing his waist, he had his fingers lodged into his throat. Using whatever adrenaline he had, his nails dug deep into his windpipe and airways.

His words turned to gurgles. Tapping his arms repeatedly, it was beyond what the duel could contain. Moving his legs, kicking his boots against the ground, his gurgles worsened the more his vision blurred.

So taken aback, it took two seconds before they all rushed toward them.

“H-Hey! I said that’s enough!”, “Luke!”, “Holy shit…”, “Oh no…”

He could only see the color red. Nothing more. Nothing less. Not shapes, not blue or black or white or white; only crimson. He felt his lips burn, and he felt his chin dribble in warmth.

His teeth chipped into bits. Bit by bit, iron swelled around his mouth from both injuries. He felt motion in back of him, like the wind was trying to pull him away from his work. Pushing his fingers deep into his craft, even the voices began to wither in disarray…

“Just how strong is he?!”

“LUKE!!”

“Shit! Sean’s whole face is pale!”

“H-He’s going to kill him!”

“Luke!”

His ears held static. Unable to pull out, unable to articulate the craft he had, iron only grew on his gums. Gulping another load down, the abyss that began to cloud him was like a hand. Coming from below rather than above, it was trying to speak to—

He stopped.

Pain returning to him once more, the left side of his head glistened in minor redness. Hunching his body forward, he growled, while his eyes held crimson. And upon hearing returning to him—

He blinked.

If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have configured who hit him. His eyes returned to white, the craft loosened on his fingers, and his face took the hold of a confused being.

“What…”

They feared him.

Staring at him, was a woman embodying a death glare. Her hands balled into fists, it looked like she returned her foot, while her blue eyes mingled in tears. Her small lips puckered, she withheld brittle tears.

“Oh no…”

To the sides of him, Miles, Benn, Christian, and Luna let go of his shoulders. And in the back of the three men and one woman, was Chris and Pacifica.

Biting her lower lip, Hope closed her eyes and turned away. Walking huffingly toward the freezer room, she opened the door wide, and slammed it shut. The bang echoing through the building, Luke twitched his lips, and raised his right hand to cover his mouth.

—No no no…

Even when blood ran down his nose, he hunched his back forward and ignored the pain.

Meanwhile, the elf who barely breathed wheezed through his throat. Regaining control of his lungs, Miles knelt down near Sean, and placed his hand onto his chest. Gritting his teeth, his gums strained by the pressure he induced.

“Why couldn’t you guys just listen…” Muttered Miles.

Raising both of his hands up to his temples, he clamped them there shut. Wanting to stab his own head, the scalp that he scraped couldn’t draw blood. Instead, he drew out tears, rivers of water that flowed from his temples.

Benn knelt down near Miles, and extended both of his hands underneath the unconscious elf. Picking him up with ease, his voice was like lavender.

“I’ll take him to the station. There should be one in the city.”

“But you can’t.”

Christian stood behind Benn, his eyes never letting the shark-human go. Without a glare, and without a frown, he just stared at the shark-human with darkened eyes.

“You would get beat up just for walking. I’ve seen how Haxouburg plays with their beast-humans. Believe me, even I feel like it's too much…”

A small huff of air blew through his nostrils. Compared to the average Haxouburg citizen, Christian was by all means open minded. Nodding at both Miles and Benn, he had his back and neck straightened out.

“I’ll take him. You all have an agreement to fulfill. Just lend me the van, as well as the keys.”

“They’re in Jack’s pocket. Just be careful when you take them.”

Christian turned toward where the freezer room was, but it was already slammed shut. But to the right of the door, was a man with red-hair who continued to sleep. To sleep away, to ignore all drama, it was a guttural feeling of envy.

Huffing air in his lungs, he returned his eyes back to Miles.

“If anything happens, just let me know. Pacifica and Chris could support you.”

“No worries. Hey Christian.”

Before Christian could walk toward Jack, he had his body turned. Miles slowly rose from the ground, his hair still rippling his forehead. While hearing the coarse wheezes from Sean … he swayed bits of his hair.

“I used to be a little like you. I don’t want to say this near Benn … but uh, I too had some opinions when I first met him.

“So?”

“The more I talked with him, the more those opinions faded.”

Benn rolled his eyes, his casual frown still present on his face. But he felt a smirk, a little smile tugged at his right lip. Miles saw him as a member of the team, rather than a token to make the group special.

He was needed, he was useful. Everyone was.

“Don’t be afraid to be open, okay bro.”

“Well … alright.”

Meanwhile…

Sniffles echoed through the room clastined in ice.

Hugging her knees, she had them close to her chest. Her forehead prickled in ice, her cheeks blemished in red, tears ran down her face. Feeling the ice began to sizzle, she sniffled ever more upon what she remembered…

[I, Luke Fenix, will never let my frustration get the better of me.]

Raising one of her hands, she cleared out the salted water that stained her skin. Trying so hard to get rid of them, they continued to unleash from her irritated eyelids.

[And I promise to keep my promises.]

‘Liar…’

Her whole body turning numb, she continued to sulk in the below freezing temperature. Her eyes all narrowed, all glaring, she stared at her knees with so much frustration dwelling inside of her.

As she remembered his smile, his warm face …

‘You promised…’