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#7
NOV 08 |
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“Avenging Angels”
Catman dodged under a fiery blade that was connected to the gauntlet of the vigilante called Azrael. “Dammit Floyd, where the hell are you?” screamed Catman in to his cowl headset. He took a slice at Azrael’s back as he ducked another hook, his razor sharp claws ripped into the crimson red Kevlar body armor that Azrael wore. “Looks like your hype is just that kid. I don’t know if you know this or not, but I’ve gone toe to toe with Batman a few times.”
Azrael looked down at the tear in the armor and back at Catman’s ridiculous black and hot pink costume. “So have I,” he said solemnly. He threw a fiery punch at Catman’s head that was ducked, but the move was merely a feint as he connected with a kick to the body that sent Thomas Blake rolling to the ground sucking air, trying to get his lungs filled again. “This absurdity has gone on long enough, you were involved in the murder of this man, I am taking you to the police.” Azrael reached out and grabbed Catman by the cowl, dragging him upright.
“You know,” Catman said under his breath, “I’m really sick and tired of everyone thinking I’m a pushover.” Catman brought one knee up into Azrael’s groin and sent both hands right into his throat. The only thing that saved Azrael from having his Adam’s apple knocked out was the throat guard in his cowl. Jean Paul Valley stumbled back in shock and was even more surprised to find Catman was already on the offensive, as a cat line was wrapped around his legs, a quick jerk the next instant and Azrael was on his back. Catman jumped onto Azrael’s chest with a cat toy in his hand. “You know when I said this wasn’t anything personal? I changed my mind, cause I really am enjoying this,” Catman shoved the explosive cat toy in the folds of Azrael’s crimson cowl and jumped off of him. Azrael scrambled to his feet and desperately tried to free his costume of the device. The loud boom told him he wasn’t successful.
Abe sat back in the booth at the bar called GATEWAY and was transfixed by the transformation of the man he knew as Shooter in to the demon lord Neron. “You can really give me all my powers back?”
Neron, dressed in his regal looking white and green made his cape wrap around him in a flourish. His blonde hair moved even though there was no wind in the bar as the smoke held heavy in the air. “My friend, I can give you more power than you ever dreamed possible. Remember before you were limited by the images on your body that were put there by your own feeble imagination. I have seen the wonders of the Earth since before man was imagined by Him that fateful day. I have seen angels cry rivers of blood and flood cities. I have seen the fearsome creatures of the deep terrorize a primitive Atlantis. And Abe my friend, I have seen the nightmares young children have and the images that strike terror into their young hearts. The things I would inscribe upon your flesh would cause animals to cower in fear, women to rake their own eyes out, and grown men kill themselves rather than face your wrath and fury.”
Abe’s eyes showed the struggle he had inside. Any other day he probably would have told Neron to screw himself. He wanted power but not at the cost of his own soul, and while he wasn’t the smartest guy on the block, he had watched enough television to know that a deal with the Devil never worked in the favor of anyone BUT the Devil himself.
That was any OTHER day though. Today was much different as Neron had already given Abe four shots of a hypodermic needle filled with the same milky substance that all the kids were doing as well. Abe smiled a drunken grin and looked down at his pale white and seamless skin and began to cry.
Neron smiled to himself. “One soul is all I need, come on Abe, you’ve all but given it to me already anyway.”
Abe looked up into Neron’s eyes with tears rolling out of his own. “You’re right, so where do I sign?”
Azrael clutched his face in pain; the cat toy had exploded near the left side of his head, tearing through the Kevlar laced cloth that was his cowl and mask. He had no hearing in his left ear, truth be told, he wasn’t quite certain he even still had a left ear. The blood was pouring from the tears in his skin on his face and neck. He could still see but it felt like his whole left side was swelling, he would most likely lose sight in the left eye. He couldn’t move his left arm, the blast had injured his shoulder severely, perhaps dislocating the shoulder or worse, and he couldn’t see it well enough to know for sure.
As Azrael tried to stand his equilibrium was lost and he quickly crashed back to the ground. He looked around in a daze and saw Catman walking toward him, a razor sharp catarang in his hand.
“You know kid,” he said as he bent down toward the fallen hero’s destroyed face. “There’s a guy in Gotham that you remind me of, Two Face they call him, pretty on one side, and totally fucked on the other!” But don’t worry, I don’t like to leave my old scratching posts around to come back later,” he raised the catarang up to Azrael’s exposed neck. “You were good kid, but me, I’m a real killer.”
Catman felt like his gut exploded as he went flying backwards and tumbled on to his back. Azrael had kicked him from a crouched position so hard that he felt like he may black out. He shook his head trying to clear it and grabbed his fallen catarang. Azrael was already up and came in swinging with the blade on his right glove lit on fire again. Catman dodged back and forth, but Azrael was too quick and within moments Catman found himself being torn apart by the fiery blade. “This is impossible!” screamed Catman. “You’re half dead!”
Azrael’s eyes didn’t blink as he pulled away the remains of his shredded cowl. Jean Paul Valley never heard a word Catman said, and it wasn’t because of the explosion, the System had taken over.
Abe looked at the contract on the table through hazy eyes. “You know, I heard things about you from the guys.”
“Really? Like what?” Neron played innocent, though he knew what the comment meant.
“Lots of the guys you dealt with said you were a two timer.” Abe suddenly had a pen in his hand; he had no idea where it came from though.
“I assure you Abe, everyone has gotten EXACTLY what I promised them,” Neron spoke in measured words, he was close to getting Abe to sign, a few words here and there and the deal would be done.
“They said a deal with you is a death penalty, guys like Ocean Master and Black Manta. They said they wish they never met you. They said they think you fucked them over pretty good.” Abe set the pen down on the table.
“And what do you think Abe?” Neron said as he pulled the contract back towards him.
“I think I may be fucked up, and I think I done some pretty crappy stuff in my life, and I think that no matter what I do from here till the day that I die won’t make a bit of difference to tip the scales back in the favor of the angels. I think I really don’t care too much.” Abe leaned in real close across the table into Neron’s face. “But I also think you can sit in hell and wait for me cause if you exist then there really is a God, and that means by the time I go, he might be in a real forgiving mood, he might take me in just to piss your ass off, he might say that just by saying no to you it makes up for everything I have done and everything I will do in the future. So go fuck yourself.”
Neron was visibly pissed as he stood from the table and swung it across the room, breaking it over two of the young club goers in the process, there health meant nothing to him. “You also know I can slaughter you where you stand? Do you also know how I can allow you to live and make your life a hell on Earth, a life so bad that you will look forward to seeing me in the afterlife?
Abe took a drink off of another table and drank it quickly. “Yeah you could, but I bet that anyone killed by you is guaranteed passage through the Pearly Gates, so I’m willing to take my chances.” Abe tried to form a cocky smile, he wasn’t sure if it was working though because in truth he was scared sober.
Neron seethed in Abe’s face, the smell of rotting flesh came from his breath and as Abe stared into his orbless eyes he soon saw himself drowning in a sea of black water. He averted his gaze and heard Neron’s soft chuckle. “Abe do you really want to make an enemy of the Devil?”
Abe tried to bring his eyes off the floor but couldn’t. He was scared to death and Neron knew it. He reached out and placed his hand on Abe’s shoulder and drew it back in apparent pain. “In the name of the Abyss! What’s going on here?” Neron’s hand smoked as if he had stuck it into an otherworldly flame.
Abe looked just as confused. “Don’t ask me!”
Neron sniffed the air and scowled. The Goth kids in the club also sensed the danger, both to their master and from his wrath and they scattered out of the club. “You have the stench of Heaven on you! This is impossible, you’ve been here all night, I had you in my grasp, HE wouldn’t save you or bother to send an emissary to do it for him, you mean nothing to no one.”
“That’s not true Neron. He means something to me.”
As the ghostly white figure dressed in dark green came from the shadows, Abe squinted to see who it was, the face meant nothing to him but it obviously put fear into Neron. “Spectre!”
Catman struggled to keep his distance from Azrael. The fight was lost to him now, he knew that. Anything he threw at the hero was parried away and landed him in a lot more trouble. The pace was amazing and he was tiring quickly, as he had lost a lot of blood from the blade slashes Azrael had given him. “Dammitt Lawton! Where the Hell are you?” he screamed into his mic cowl.
“Right here.”
A single shot fired from Deadshot’s wrist cannon and the bullet erupted through Azrael’s abdomen. Instead of going down the hero turned and leapt at the assassin. His right hand high overhead slashing down on Deadshot’s arm. “Tough guy huh?” Lawton said as he used his armored gauntlet and wrist cannon to block the blow, the gun smashed and was useless and his arm hurt like hell but it was still attached.
Azrael pressed the attack, hand to hand is where he excelled, Deadshot started to rethink the idea he had of sniping Azrael from the rooftop earlier in the evening. For some reason he wanted to be close for this kill, or maybe the other way just wasn’t dangerous enough.
“Come on kid, let’s see what you got.” Deadshot rolled to the right and fired off two rounds from his left cannon, both missed as Azrael weaved to the right and jumped on him again, his blade slashing fire as it flew by Deadshot’s head.
Catman was on his feet now and back on the offensive, he tackled Azrael from behind and locked his arms around his right leg, hoping to turn it and break it to hinder the hero’s movement. Azrael swung his blade at Catman, but Deadshot took the cue and planted a bullet into his right elbow, effectively shattering it and rendering as useless as his left arm.
Azrael screamed in pain, the first noise he had made since the System had taken over. He knew, as he fell to the ground, he had failed Batman one last time, and he would always be remembered as a failure.
Deadshot stood over Azrael with his cannon whirling an armor-piercing bullet into place. “Bang.”
Neron seethed as the Spectre strode form the shadows, casting a light that drove the darkness away as if it were a living thing. “Abel Tarrant will not go with you Neron, he has rejected your offer and I have purged his mind and body from the poison you injected into his skin. There is nothing more here for you.”
“Why do you care about this one over any other lost soul?”
“It matters not to you why The Hand of God looks over him, only that he is not for you.”
Abe locked his eyes on the Spectre, he had never seen him before, but there was something about him that was vaguely familiar.
A smile played across Neron’s face. “As you wish Spectre. Had I known that you would want to save one of your old foes from another time I would have stayed away from the enemies of Green Lantern.” Neron’s words were carefully layered to spark memories in Abe’s mind and he could tell as Abe’s face changed that he had done so perfectly.
“Jordan,” Abe said, more to himself than anyone.
The Spectre turned toward Abe. “Abel Tarrant, you are being given the chance to redeem yourself, I will stay by your side against his evil.”
“Neron, give me my old powers back and kill Jordan, all for my soul!” Abe screamed. Neron knew that Abe’s hatred for his old foe Hal Jordan would work to his advantage, the Devil had won.
“Deal,” Neron said. Flames engulfed Abe, he felt like he was floating off the ground, then he felt pain like he never had before, as he screamed he realized the price he paid for his power, and Abel Tarrant cried.
The Spectre watched as Abe made his decision and spurned HIS love in favor of rage and power. Hal Jordan felt as though he had failed. Neron knew he had failed. “Don’t think that your interference won’t go unpunished shade of heaven!” Neron yelled as black energy blasted from his hand and enveloped Spectre.
“Abe, get off the floor and help kill your old foe.” Neron watched as the Spectre writhed in pain as the energy from hell played across his muscles and tore at his being.
Abe stood up; the pain was gone, replaced by tattoos. Tattoos all over his body, but not ones made of ink, these moved of their own free will, all of them different, some he recognized others were of evil looking creatures from the bowels of hell. All of them moved across his skin like they were in their own little world, just going about their business until called upon by their master.
Abe looked from the Spectre to Neron. “Sic em boys.” He touched a group of wraiths on his arm. Beings that were dressed in rags with faces hidden in their cowls. Their long white talons reached out and raked at Neron, tearing at his mortal shell.
“What are you doing? We had a deal!” screamed Neron.
“We still do, you just haven’t lived up to your end yet. This thing between Jordan and me is personal. And quite frankly I’m sick of seeing you.”
Neron lashed out and knocked the group of wraiths from him. “Very well Abe, we will see each other again soon.” In a blast of smoke, Neron disappeared, leaving the Spectre and Abe alone in the tattered bar.
Abe turned toward the Spectre. “You are Jordan aren’t you?”
“Yes Abel, I am.”
“Don’t feel too bad kid, guys like me and you we’ll always be on opposite sides of the fence. It’s just the way we are. But as bad as I am, I know the Devil when I see him. You think I made a mistake today saying yes, you think you lost. But remember one thing, even the devil can be tricked.”
“What do you mean?” the Spectre asked.
“A trick I learned from a friend of mine. I told Neron to give me my powers back and to kill you and then he would have my soul. He only got half the deal done.” Abe pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and touched a tattoo of a small one-foot tall demon to come out and light it.
“You cheated the Devil?” asked the Spectre. “You don’t think he’ll let you get away with it do you?”
“Hey, I gotta figure I’m safe as long as he doesn’t destroy you, right? And if there’s one guy who knows how damn tough Hal Jordan is, it’s the Tattooed Man.”
Thomas Blake and Floyd Lawton arrived back at their apartment in New York City. They already had all of their injuries looked after, the fight with Azrael had left Blake in pretty bad shape, but given a couple of weeks he would be fine.
Floyd sat down at his computer and sent an e-mail to Topper about the encounter from last night.
T,
Back from Bludhaven. No Nightwing in town, killed Azrael instead. Hopefully some mook has a price on him. If so get collection and let me know.
We’re taking a week off.
See ya,
D.
He sat back on the couch and reached for the remote when the front door opened. Blake reached into his pocket for a cat toy while Lawton eyed where his bag and wrist cannons were and determined it would take about five seconds to get to them.
“Boys, I’m home.” Abe walked in, his body covered by a long leather trench coat and a ski cap. “So, anything exciting happen while I was away?”
Thomas ran over and hugged Abe. “Its good to have you back Abe!”
“Get off me you damn homo, I didn’t come back here so you could tongue kiss me, I came to hang out and get some cash. There’s plenty of time for you to suck me off later.” Abe smiled as he walked past Blake, he really did miss him.
“Good to see you Floyd.”
“You to Abe. You fixed?”
“Oh yeah,” Abe said as took off the cap and coat. The dark inky images flowed over his skin, making little noises like they were talking to each other as they passed. Thomas and Floyd stood transfixed as they took in Abe’s new powers.
“So you guys wanna go grab a beer?”
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To Be Continued...
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