Chapter 4 – The Plan

“Grace!” a woman yelled. The demon turned to see the interrupter. The cross earring on the woman’s right ear glowed. The woman touched her cross earring and pulled a string of light out from it. The string of light grew longer as the woman spin the string around in the air.

It then materialized into an icy chain as she skilfully wrapped it on her left hand, clutching the head of the chain which resembled the cross. Without warning, she threw the chain straight at the demon. The demon dodged the chain leaving Olen aside as the chain plunged into the ground. Ice spikes emerged from the ground on impact. Olen barely caught the sight of ice spikes in front of him, but he could slightly feel the chill it was emitting.

The woman swiftly made her next move. She pulled the remainder of the long icy chain to retrieve the head of the chain out of the ground. Immediately, she whirled the chain around the demon, hoping to entrap it. The demon saw through her move and jumped up high. The woman followed its reaction and pulled the chain up.
“Annoying!” the demon exclaimed as flames appeared on its fist. He fired two fireballs at the chasing icy chain, hitting it down.

The woman lost the momentum in pulling the chain upwards, and decided to react with a different move. She pointed her finger at the demon, which is still in mid air, and said, “Cascos Helados!”

The demon understood her foreign language, and turned up to see multiple large ice shards falling from above. It defended itself by emblazing itself, punching the ice shards as they fell on it.
Seizing the opportunity, the woman pulled back her chain, positioning herself for another attack. The demon landed on the ground, its massive weight causing a loud slam.

The woman charged at chance, throwing her chain with the cross-head pointing straight at the recovering demon. However, it had already anticipated her attack and it punched the chain to defend itself.

The demon could not believe as its fist became frozen upon impact with the chain. Its right hand was locked by the ice and the chain, leaving the hand immobile.
Olen was amazed, even though he watched the fight with his blurry vision. He had never seen such mastery of wielding such a long ranged weapon. However, his pain reminded him of his current condition. He had endured it till now, and was starting to lose consciousness. Concentrating his remainder spiritual energy to boost his consciousness, he hoped to assist the woman.

The demon was furious at the woman’s cleverly crafted move. It growled and used its might to pull the woman to him through its frozen hand. She screamed as she was slowly drawn closer to him. Realizing the consequences, she summoned multiple ice projectiles in front of her and shot them at the demon.

The demon howled in pain as some of the ice projectiles pierced into its body. The piercing pain had only fuelled his anger, and it uncontrollably moved its hands around, sending the woman holding the chain in mid air.
She decided to let go of her chain, and swiftly positioned herself to land safely.
The demon still howled painfully, swinging the chain around. Noticing that Olen was near her, she ran towards him.

“You….” Olen muttered as he tried to get up.
“Don’t waste your strength!” the woman said as she helped him to sit on his butt.
“How did you…” Olen continued muttering.
The woman took a glance at the demon, which was still rampaging at the pain.
There’s not much time she thought and placed both of her palms at Olen’s back.
Olen felt a rejuvenating feeling as the woman’s spiritual energy was transferred into him. His vision became clearer, and the stitching began to become less painful.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she stopped. “I’m not a healer,”
Olen smiled and helped himself up. “I’m fine, thank you,”
He felt awkward at their meeting. He never expected to be assisted by another cross bearer, and definitely not in particular, her.
Olen spotted his masamune and made a dash for it.

The woman stood there, realizing she had to devise another strategy now that she had lacked a proportion of her spiritual power after giving it to Olen.
“Scatter!” she exclaimed, and her chain locked to the demon exploded into shards.
The demon was free from the ice entrapping his fist.

Enraged, it turned to face the woman, not realizing that Olen had already retrieved his masamune.
The demon made a speedy charge at the woman, attempting to punch her. The woman dodged at the attack, and barely dodged the consecutive punches. She quickly somersaulted backwards, leaving a space between them, hoping to execute her next move in time. Instinctively, she summoned her chain from her cross earring again, and sent it flying at the demon.

This time the demon knew well not to lay hands on the chain.
Instead, it aimed to target the woman, who was now vulnerable to attacks. It dodged the chain effortlessly, and made a swift dash at the woman, readying itself to punch her.
However, before he could reach her, he felt his back being pierced by a sharp object. Roaring in pain, it turned to see Olen standing on his back, and his masamune deeply embedded inside its body.

“Take this,” Olen said as torrents of water appeared from the masamune, drenching the demon and causing it soaring pain. It roared even louder, as some of water evaporated.

“Now!” the woman exclaimed as she moved her chain. Olen immediately pulled his masamune out of the body and quickly somersault backwards, just missing the whirling chain by inches. The icy chain was now tightly wrapped on the demon’s body. Olen landed just in time to see the demon engulfed in a large block of ice. It was motionless, with the painful expression on its face. The battle was over.

Olen immediately felt tired and weak as he had already used much of the spiritual power given to him. He bent down, panting. The woman came up to him.
“I see that you have improved,” she said, offering him her hand. Olen took her hand and she pulled him up. “Well, not so much as you,” Olen tiredly answered.

“How long as it been, Olen? Five years?” she asked as her voice started to tremble.
Olen merely nodded, but he then noticed the expression on her face.
“Where have you been..? We thought you were dead…” she said, as tears rolled down from her eyes.
“Re… Rebecca,” he said as he hugged her. “I’m sorry,”
However, she pushed him away causing him to be alarmed.
“5 years, Olen… without a trace,” she said in her jerky voice. “Have you no feelings for me? Haven’t you even thought about me?”

Olen remained silent, unable to give her an answer. It was complicated for him. He knew his absence had caused her a lot of grief and anxiety. Now, he can only wonder whether she will forgive him.
“I’ve moved on... Olen,” she said as she wiped her tears from her eyes. Olen stood there, silent. He knew he would hear it.
“I understand…” he finally spoke. There was a long awkward silent between them, until Olen suddenly remembered about Tricia.

“Oh, I’m sorry Rebecca. I have to find someone,” he said.
Rebecca looked at him, guessing who the person was.

“I saw this woman running towards the King Cross plaza,” she said. “She was trembling,”

Olen was surprised and mouthed the word “Oh”
“I told my driver to send her back,” she said.
Olen felt a huge relief upon hearing it. The only concern he had now is to explain his outburst to Tricia.

“Does she know…?” Rebecca asked. Olen shook his head.
“Well then, by the time she goes back home, she will forget,” Rebecca continued.
Olen looked at her, suddenly remembering the process of H-A-C.
“People who accidentally see, or was involved in our battles will forget about it. You remember it, don’t you?”

“Yeah. The law of the “Human Amnesia Complex”,” Olen replied. No one is supposed to know the existence of the cross bearers and the fight between them and demons, unless the cross bearers took the liberty to tell, Olen reminded himself.

“You still haven’t answered my question, Olen,” Rebecca asked suddenly. Olen realized that she wanted to know where he had been in the past 5 years.

“I’ll tell you another time, okay?” he said as he looked away.

Rebecca looked silently at him, disappointed. She then gathered up her courage to speak.
“There’s something you must know,” she said suddenly.

Olen looked at her, surprised.

Somewhere else at the same time…

In a dark forest, a caped man strolled along the dirt path. He suddenly heard noises from the bush. Feeling a little alarmed, he turned to the source of the noise. A man walked out from the bush.
“It’s you…” the caped man said, realizing it was someone he knew.
The man said to the caped man, “I’ve brought news,”
“Is it about the liberated demon…?” the caped man asked in anticipation.
The other man nodded.
“What is the outcome?” the caped man asked.
“Negative,” the other man said.

“Interesting. What about the cross bearer?”

“There’s nothing worth worrying about. In the end, he was assisted by another cross bearer,” the other man replied.

The caped man grinned upon hearing it. “Looks like someone had a little reunion,” he said.
The other man remained silent.
“Kingsley, both you and I have come a long way,” the caped man said.
“Yes sir,” the other man nodded.
“There’s no room for any regrets now. You’ve made your decision, I’ve made mine. It has to be done,” the caped man said. “You’ll know what to do in the future…”


The next morning - Olen’s old apartment

The door opened, and Olen was shocked to see a tired face.

“…Tricia. You look tired,” Olen said.

“Headache actually,” she said as she let him in. “Been having it since last night,”
“Last night?” Olen asked, testing her.

“Yes, last night. Which is funny though, I can’t remember a single thing.” Tricia said as she pressed her hand against her forehead.
“Well, maybe you need more rest?” Olen suggested.

“I’m sure I had enough rest myself,” Tricia said while walking over to kitchen to help herself to a cup of tea.
Olen sat himself on the chair, and observed Tricia. She poured a cup for Olen and brought it to him.
“Thanks,” Olen said.

“Well,” Tricia said. “What brings Mr. Old Tenant here?”
“Just checking on you...” Olen said and realized he had slipped his tongue.

Tricia joined him at the coffee table and after sipping her tea, she eyed him suspiciously and asked, “And why would you want to check on me?”

“Eh…” Olen said as he picked his cup up, figuring the words to say.

“I remember you had a rough day with me, yesterday,”

Tricia shot a puzzled look at him. She scratched her hair, trying to remember.
“Ah right! You made me walk the whole day!”

Olen agreed as he sipped his tea.
“I have enough of that adventure of yours if that’s what you are thinking,” she said.

“That’s alright. I never intended to bring you along in the first place,” Olen replied.
“What happened in that search?” Tricia asked.

“It was late, and you went home,” Olen replied confidently.

“Did I?” Tricia said as she thought harder. “Argh. It doesn’t matter,” she said upon giving up on the subject. She stood up, and turned on the television. Then she busied herself in the kitchen.

The programme on the T.V was news on the final voting day for the election. The candidate James Harkman appeared on screen making comments on how he was going to change the policies to provide America a better future. The other candidate appeared, giving his speech.

Olen took little interest on the politics that was going on. He merely stared blankly at the screen. He was thinking about what Rebecca told him last night and still couldn’t believe that such thing would happen.

“And now, we bring you a live feed from the president. We are joined by our crew at the conference. Good ,” the tv spokesman said.

“In regards to my opinion on the current voting, I believe the opposition party has put up a good fight. In fact, there are always good fights in all voting history. Ultimately, it is America’s choice to who has the best fight in them, and I strongly believe that America can make her decision on who will win the election,” the president said.

“Mr. President, what are your views on the likelihood of remaining another term in office?” a reported asked.

“Well, we’ll just leave it up to God to decide…”

“Mr. President! What are your thoughts on case of the murder of Ashley Clinton?” a reporter interrupted.

This got Olen’s attention. He sat tightly on the chair and opened up his ears.

“Well… isn’t that…” the president said.

“Isn’t there are a lot of speculations in the verdict? They never found the murder weapon and the link between the autopsy results with Mr. Hilton was rather vague. Don’t you think that the high court should re-consider the death penalty…” the reporter continued.

“Oh, are they talking about the Ashley Clinton case?” Tricia interrupted. “I thought it was over already. The culprit was Hilton, right?”

“Sshhh!”

“If you doubt America’s legal system, you would doubt what the forefathers of America had fought for, which I advised that you shouldn’t. Our legal system had enforced justice and ensured the safety and welfare for Americans over a long history. We have become good and efficient in doing that, and I wouldn’t think that everything that has been decided until today had been speculative. Plus, I’m sure that the verdict of the case was decided on concrete evidence, and there should be no misconceptions or speculations,” the president continued, with a firm voice.

Concrete evidence? Rubbish! The only evidence they found was his presence at the crime scene. It doesn’t imply that he is guilty. Olen flared at his thoughts. He became upset and got up to turn off the T.V. Tricia turned around, to see the tv turned off. She wondered what happened. Olen decided to leave until Tricia stopped him.

“Leaving already? What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing, I just got to go know…” Olen said as he left. Tricia stood there, puzzled at his unusual behaviour.


Central Park

“What is it…?” Olen asked, intrigued. Rebecca looked at him, with dried tears on her eyes.
“He’s… sentenced to death,” she muttered in her staggering voice.
Olen wasn’t expecting such answer. He didn’t know what to make of her words.
“He…?” he asked, demanding more details.
“Lance…” Rebecca replied.
Olen stood there, almost speechless. He never expected it coming. It hit him hard that of all names that could be mentioned, it had to be him.
“Lance…? But… how?” he asked, dumbfounded.

“He was charged with murder that he didn’t commit,” Rebecca explained.

The memory of his conversation with Rebecca still lingered in his mind. He had only felt more horrible, that he wouldn’t know that his partner would be executed if he had remained in China.
As Olen walked along the grassy path, he was stopped.
“I see that you have decided to come,” Rebecca said.
Olen looked at her, and frowned.

It was a lovely afternoon for outdoor activities, and the central park was populated with families, couples and friends enjoying their own activities. Several people riding bicycles passed Olen and Rebecca.
She motioned him to move to another area.
They found themselves a less crowded spot in the central park, and sat on a bench near a pinewood tree. As Olen relaxed himself on the bench, Rebecca prepared herself to speak.
“About 4 hours from now… security will heighten. But, the night will be our advantage,” she said.
Olen was deep in his thoughts. He wasn’t sure of this plan Rebecca was telling him.
“Olen!” she exclaimed as she smacked his forehead. “Are you even listening?”
“Ouch!” Olen exclaimed as he rubbed his forehead.
“This is a serious matter, Olen!”

“This is risky, you know! What if we get caught?”

“I’m already prepared for that. Besides, us getting caught isn’t such a big deal.”

Olen thought for a while on that statement. It reminded him of a motto that strive him to fight against the demons.
“We are in the world but not of the world, eh?” he said.
Rebecca nodded. She felt nostalgic hearing him said that. She too fought based on that motto.
“How are we going to get in?” Olen asked the obvious.
“Simple…” Rebecca said.
Nearby, unknown to them, someone was watching them. The stalker hid behind a tree, observing their actions, and wrote it down on a notebook.

“This is really insane…” Olen said.
“Well, as I said the night is our advantage. We’ll get through the yard quickly and the only problem is inside the building walls.”
“How are we going to know our way around?”
“Did you think that I asked you in this without planning? I got the details here,” Rebecca said as she reached for her mobile phone from her handbag. She pressed the buttons on the phone and then showed the screen display to Olen.
“Wow,” said Olen, amazed. “How did you…”
“It pays off when you know the person who designed the place,”
Olen took a moment to absorb the plan Rebecca had just explained. He felt a little uneasy, but somehow he knew couldn’t abandon his old partner.
“I can’t believe I just agreed to break into a prison…” he muttered to himself.
A breeze brushed through his cheek. It felt good but then there was something that he felt that wasn’t right. He looked around, hoping to spot the source that gave him this uneasiness.
“What are you doing?” Rebecca asked.
“Nothing… It’s just my imagination,”


San Jose Prison

Far away from the noisy rows of prison cells, a prisoner sat silently on the floor of his cell. His surroundings were almost pitched black, with only a glimmer of light shining through the small pigeon hole at the door. The prisoner brushed his hand through the bruises and scars on his body. It pricked him, but he resisted the pain. It was obvious that he had been beaten up badly. One more interrogation…he thought to himself. As much as he disliked the solitary confinement, he didn’t feel any regret for ending up in here, but only felt pity on how he was going to die two days later. Footsteps were heard and a moment later, the door made a noise. Bright lights blinded his sight as the door was opened. He shielded his eyes with his arm, making a gritting noise with his cuffs. A black suited man stood at the door, with a policeman beside him.
“Get up,” the man ordered.
The prisoner however, did not budge.
It angered the man, and he ordered the police officer to beat him.
After receiving a couple of blows from the stick, the prisoner lay on the floor, writhing in pain.
“Now, you don’t have long to live, you know that. Don’t make your last few days on earth difficult,” the suited man said, finally.
The police man went ahead and dragged the prisoner up, forcing him to move as they leave the cell.

The prisoner now found himself in the same torture chamber he had visited for the past 5 times. He was pushed to sit on a chair, ironically finding the treatment this time better. The police officer stood beside him as the black suited man took a chair and sat directly across him. He looked into the prisoner’s eyes intently.

“What is it that you desire before you die?” the suited man asked.
The prisoner merely kept silent.
“I’m sure there’s something you desire. Some people want their family to be beside them before they die. Some desires the indulgence of luxurious food, and some desires entertainment,”
The prisoner looked away, avoiding eye contact with the suited man.
“It’s almost as if I’m granting you a last wish,” the suited man continued. “So… what is it that you desire?”
“Nothing,” the prisoner answered. The suited man looked at him, bewildered.
“Come on! There must be something you desire? Family, food, sex, you name it!”
“Do not tempt me by the desires of a foolish man,” the prisoner replied.

WHAM!

The prisoner was slapped by the suited man.
“Aren’t you a very arrogant bastard? Lance, a man who knows no fear, and does not succumb to temptation, how great it that!” the suited man exclaimed as he walked around the torture chamber.
The prisoner felt the stinging pain on his cheek but resisted it.
“It’s fine if you want your last few days on earth in solitary, but…”
The suited man grabbed the prisoner by the collar and whispered, “I still want to know where is the ‘key’”
Lance refused to answer his question.
“Where is it?!” the suited man yelled as he violently shacked Lance by the collar.
“I don’t know,” answered Lance.

WHAM!

Lance was punched in the stomach. He coughed and panted hard.

“Say that again?” the suited man challenged.
“I don’t know…” Lance muttered.

WHAM! He felt another blow in his stomach. Before he could compose himself, he felt his cheek being slammed by a hand.
“Now… tell me where,”
Lance felt the air was heavy, and started to feel dizzy. He gasped for air as he tried to resist the pain from his cheek and stomach.
“What use is it to distraught me… I have no use in your plans,” Lance replied, panting.
“Clever aren’t we?” said the suited man as he grabbed Lance by the collar again.
“Where is your faith? I see that you lost it when you killed Ashley Clinton. Even God forsakes you now,”
Lance became silent upon hearing it. It was true that he lost his desire for living. However, he had not regretted that the things that he had done.
“It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me the location of the key,” the suited man said. “We’ll just have to use other measures…”
The words ‘other measures’ got Lance’s attention.
“What are you implying…” he asked.
“Ha!” the suited man laughed at his face. “Why should you know?! After all, it is you who decided for us to use those other measures!”
“…”
“There is no worry. We’ll get that key for sure, and when we do, you won’t be alive to see what happens after that,” the suited man smirked.
“But I will be free from these chains that bind me. Free from all the chains of the world… While you are still bound by them, trapped...” Lance replied smartly.

Lance heard a click. A gun was pointed at him.
“Its fine, officer” the suited man said, telling the police not to shoot.
“He will have his death wish soon,"
The suited man grinned and left the room, following Lance with the police officer escorting.

Olen’s Hotel Room
Olen sat on his bed, in silence. He was observing the clock on the wall. It was 6 p.m.
He glanced outside his window, and saw a crowd of people gathering. There was a man playing his violin passionately, with onlookers that had amazement on their faces. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to hear the melody that struck the crowd. He dismissed the man, and turned his attention to the plan.
He was supposed to meet Rebecca and they were to discuss the final details of the plan. It struck him that he was about to commit a serious crime in his life. If they were to succeed, this break-in will go unnoticed. But, if they were to fail, they will be branded America’s most wanted. He laughed at the idea of being ‘famous’, it would be first in his life to be actually known. His life was lived in the shadows, unnoticed, fighting the demons, without humans ever realizing the ones fighting for them. And that will never change, he thought. They will never know anyway thanks to the HAC.

After composing himself for the night, he stood up and picked up a bag and left. Rebecca was outside waiting for him, in her sporty car. He helped himself inside and they left.

Outside San Jose Prison

In an old looking parking lot, a car drove in and positioned itself to park. As it stopped, a man and a woman got out of it, the man wearing a rather peculiar looking prisoner uniform while the woman on a janitor uniform.
“I can’t believe you’re making me wear this,” said Olen, feeling embarrassed.
“Nobody’s going to comment what you wear!” Rebecca argued. “It’s for safety!”
“Okay okay,” Olen said as he adjusts his uniform.
Rebecca took out two folded papers and two black walkie-talkies. She passed one of the papers and a walkie-talkie to Olen. He took it and tested it, then turned his attention to the folded paper.
“This is a rough sketch of the prison map,” said Rebecca as she unfolded hers and place it flat on the front of the car.
“The courtyard is the first thing we have to pass, and after that we’ll be splitting up,”
“Splitting up?” Olen asked.
“Yeah, we have to. Apparently, I got word from inside that Lance has been transferred to the solitary confinement cells few days ago,”
Olen looked at her with amazement and curiosity on where she got her sources from.
“There are two buildings in the prison that hold solitary confinement cells,” Rebecca continued, pointing to the sketch.
“I’ll be checking out this one. Can you check out the other?”
Olen observed the sketch. The building designs that hold the cells looked different. He nodded in response.
“Now remember, at 6.30p.m., the prisoners will be let out for dinner. The wardens will be shifting to their respective posts. Our chance to pass by unnoticed is hopefully through the crowd of prisoners,”
Rebecca explained.
“Okay, but how do I actually get to the solitary confinement cells if the passage was locked?” Olen stated the obvious.
“There’s the tricky part,” Rebecca answered. “Do you see this narrow passage?”
Olen observed carefully as Rebecca pointed to a stretch of lines on the paper.
“That’s your only ticket in. There are electric doors that will be unlocked for only 15 minutes at 6.40, for the wardens to change their posts,”
“15 minutes? But won’t there be any cameras around? Won’t they catch a prisoner like me wandering inside?”
“You have to be quick. There will actually be prisoners on good behaviour entering these grounds to do some excursion work. But, I think there are actually two of such prisoners allowed on your side and three on my side,”

Olen gave Rebecca a puzzled look, again wondering how she knew all these details.
Rebecca read his mind as said, “Just think that I know someone who works in there,”
“Okay, so I have to reach and be out of the confinement area before 6.55p.m.?” Olen asked, making sure.
“Yes. I know its only such a short time,”
Olen checked his watch. There was ten more minutes before the operation starts.
“There’s still time to catch your breath,” Rebecca said, as she does her hair.
Right… Olen commented at her sarcasm, unbelieving that he was about to make a dash of his life.

They left the parking lot and reached the electric fence of the prison.
“If there’s anything, let me know through the walkie-talkie,”
Olen nodded.
“Godspeed,” Rebecca said as she patted his shoulder.
Tick… It was 6.30 p.m.

Olen gulped as the spotlights of the prison turned on. It was the prisoner’s dinner time.
Rebecca instantly jumped at an unbelievable speed, landing on the other side of the fence.
“I’ll catch you later!” she said as she disappeared, running off to the prison buildings.
Olen made sure that his cross was properly fastened to his belt.
He focused all of his spiritual energy to all parts of his body… and leapt.

To be continued…

Chapter 3 – The Encounter

Where is this? Olen thought. He was in an unfamiliar place. Four walls surrounded him, and the room wasn’t too big either. It appeared that there wasn’t any door or whatsoever that he could leave. Bewildered, he searched around for any possible exits. When did I end up here, he thought.
He searched the walls, brushing his hand over any possible hidden switches. He was hoping for any secret exits. None.
I guess this happens only in the movies, he thought. After long efforts of pointless searching, he decided to give up. He sat down leaning himself against a wall. He stared blankly across the room, at the opposite wall. This is pointless… a dream? He hoped.
Upon “what it seem like forever” waiting, he shut his eyes.
Then, he heard a cry of help. Instantly, he opened up his eyes to see a young teenager kneeling down 4 metres in front of him. He stood up at once, then was shocked to see a black hooded man standing behind the teenager. His heart raced when he saw that the man was holding a huge scythe.

“Stop!” he yelled.

The boy’s face turned bloody, and Olen quickly rushed to him. But as he arrives near the boy, an invisible barrier threw him off his feet. He was too late. The black hooded man pierced the teenager boy with his humongous scythe and blood came gushing out through the boy’s stomach.

“No!!!” Olen screamed as he woke up from bed. Sweat was dripping through his forehead and brow, he was breathing hard. He observed his surroundings. The slightly familiar room reminded him that he was in the hotel room he checked in yesterday. He turned to his watch on the table next to him. It was 3.am. early in the morning.

So it was a dream, after all… he thought as he lay back down on his bed, wiping off his sweat.

But it didn’t felt like a dream to him. He remembered the teenage boy. He wasn’t anybody Olen could recognize but yet he felt something particular about him. His thoughts shifted to the black hooded man. A cold shiver ran through his spine as he pictured the black hooded man. It reminded him of the past, but that was almost 5 years ago.
He decided to forget about the dream and went back to sleep. But as he closed his eyes, the image of the hooded man kept appearing in his head. It was haunting him.


Somewhere else in New York

“Miss Woods, even though you mentioned it before, it cannot be done. I’m afraid that the decision has become irrevocable,” a young man in a business suit said as he relaxed on his luxurious black chair.
“I can’t believe it,” exclaimed a young, elegant, long-browned haired lady in front of him. She was standing up, with a tense look of her face. Both of her hands were tightly pressed against the young’s man desk. “I submitted the appeal the day before!”

“I understand that,” the young lawyer replied. “It appears that they really wanted the case to be closed. There’s nothing I can do about it,”

The lady was furious that she could not do anything about the judgement. Her face was drowned in anxiety and fear. As she was cursing her incapability, a thought of hope suddenly came upon her.
“Wait,” she said as her expression changed.
The man looked at her curiously, anticipating an idea.
“What if… I appeal to the senator?” she said. “We used to be friends when we attended law school.”
The lawyer looked at her, amazed that she had such connections. But, he couldn’t stop the disappointment he was about to give.
“I’m impressed. But, even though it’s the senator, the decision was passed by the High Court in Washington. Nothing can revoke it. The injunction cannot be passed, unfortunately,”
The lady was disappointed by his answer, but she already knew the outcome. Even she was at the end of her wits, but somewhere inside of her heart, she was still hoping for a chance. And now… he had only affirmed the inevitable.

“Well… I’ll just leave it to that if I were you,” the man advised. He turned to his drawer and reached out a set of documents, laying them on the table to be signed.
The lady could not believe that nothing could be done. She was racing through thoughts of possible solutions. It was not the time for her to give up. The execution day was only a week.
“Don’t mind me asking?” the man interrupted her trains of thoughts. She looked at him, distracted.
“Is he… someone dear to you?”
She shot a puzzled look at him. Surely he is important, she thought at the irrelevance of his question. Why would I be so concerned?

“I know this is inappropriate of me asking, but…” the man said as he lowered his tone. “I’ve never heard you mentioned that whether he was your friend or family. I thought he couldn’t be your lover since I didn’t see you in tears when the decision was announced…”

The lady’s expression changed. She looked away, knowing he was right. Even she herself wasn’t sure what their relationship was. “It’s… rather complicated,” she answered.
“But…” she said as she looked at him. “I’m sure that we were more than friends,”

The man gave a faint smile as he heard that. He stood up and offered his hand.
“Miss Woods. It has been a pleasure working with you. If you require any help in the future, do give me a ring. I’ll stand by for you,”
“Thank you,” she smiled. “Don’t need to call me Miss. Woods, just call me by my first name,”
The man smiled as they shook hands. “Okay… Rebecca”
The lady lifted her handbag from the chair and helped herself towards the door.
“Maybe we can have lunch sometime?” the man asked suddenly.
Rebecca turned back, and smiled. “Yes, we can,”
A relieved smile appeared on the man’s face. He was happy that he managed to score this time.
As Rebecca walked out, he interrupted again, “I’ve heard some rumour though,”
The lady stopped on her tracks and turned around, intrigued on what he has to say.

“They say that the higher-ups are involved…” the man whispered.
Rebecca was amused to hear that. She looked at him intently, expecting to hear more.
“We both know that the session hearing was in the high court in Washington. The nature of that case usually wouldn’t involve the high court unless it involved a first degree murder,” he continued in a whisper.
“Yeah, I know” Rebecca nodded. “It is obviously suspicious,”
“Well…,” the man said as he slowly approached Rebecca. “There are only a few people that can pull the strings from behind.”
Rebecca positioned herself to listen properly. He whispered something into her ear.
A bewildered look appeared on her face. “You don’t mean…”
The man gave her a -I-don’t-know-but-maybe- look. Rebecca was shocked at his words. She never considered the possibility, and now it has made her more confused.

As she left the skyscraper building into the buzzing busy city streets, the words of the young lawyer echoed in her mind.
“I’ve never heard you mentioned that whether he was your friend or family. I thought he couldn’t be your lover since I didn’t see you in tears when the decision was announced…”

She thought about it for a while. She realized she never really had the answer to that question.
I didn’t cry… she thought to herself. Because I thought there is a way out… somehow
But then, she hesitated. A empty feeling hit her.
But who am I, to him…





Olen’s Old Apartment

Knock…knock…
Knock…knock… knock
Knock….knock

The door swung open. “I told you that I’m never coming out of this place!” a lady exclaimed.
Olen stood at the entrance, bewildered.
“Oh…” said Tricia to her relief. “It’s you… I thought you were one of those pesky people who were trying to drive me out,”
Olen shrugged.
“Well, come in then,” she said as she ushered him in.

As he entered, he was surprised to find the messy place from the previous night now organized and tidied. He was even more amazed that such a loud woman could be organized in that matter. “Coffee?” Tricia asked. Olen nodded at her offer. He sat on the chair at the coffee table near the kitchen where Tricia was pouring coffee.
“So, what brings you here?” she asked as she serve a cup of coffee to him. “I hope you’re not here also to persuade me to leave my house,” she joked.
“Nah” Olen shook his head, putting in some sugar into his coffee.
“Although I like the thought of it…” he said softly.
“What?!” Tricia exclaimed. “I can’t believe you said that! Even if you did stay here before, but the place is mine now! I bought it remember?”
“Calm down,” Olen said. “It’s just a joke!”
Tricia made a displeased remark.
“Anyway…” Olen said while sipping on his coffee, changing the subject. “I remembered I left something here. I was hoping to take it back,”
Tricia looked at him and in her deep thoughts, she said, “If you’re looking for your old clothes and those paper documents… I gave the clothes away and threw away the papers,”
“Oh not those…” Olen said, still trying to find words to describe the item he was looking for.
Tricia was already walking around the living room, slightly touching the displayed antiques. “Some of your antiques are still here. There are those which I threw them away. Well, they weren’t really interesting and in any good condition anyway,”
While the old clothes and paper documents did not matter to Olen, but when he heard that some of his antiques were thrown away, he felt his heart sink.
“It’s alright…” he said, trying to hide his disappointment. “More importantly…”
Tricia was gazing through some of the antique vases, wiping some dust of them when Olen approached her.
“Did you see a chain locket?” he asked.
Tricia was puzzled. She couldn’t recall anything of it.
“Well… that isn’t a good way to describe it, I suppose,” Olen explained. “It’s like a medallion…”
“A medallion? A chain locket?” she asked. “Those two are different things, you know?”

Olen couldn’t help but agree. “Well….yeah. But the item is somewhere along those line. Just imagine a round object that looks like a medallion but it has a chain around it that makes it look like a chain locket?”

Olen’s description sent Tricia deep in her thoughts again. Again, she could not recall seeing it anywhere.
“Umm…Can you be more specific? Where did you last place it before you went MIA?” she asked again.
Olen thought about it, and walked into one of the rooms. He frantically searched the pile of boxes in the room. Tricia entered, doubting the medallion was really there. She remembered she had cleared the store room of its mess before and organized everything into the boxes.
“I don’t think you will be finding what you are looking for,” she said as she lean against the door.
Olen was still busy searching. He was opening up boxes by boxes, his eyes searching the contents carefully for the medallion.
“I packed everything that was useful into those boxes,” she said, hoping to stop Olen from wasting his efforts.
“You said you threw some stuff right?” he asked. “Did you remember what you threw from this room?”
“Well… like I said earlier… I got rid of those old clothes and paper documents. I gave the old clothes away,”
That didn’t help Olen. He wasn’t sure where he placed the medallion. His vague memory only gave him a hint that he hid the medallion in some object.
“Anything more?” he asked again, still searching.
“I told you, didn’t I?” Tricia exclaimed. She was getting agitated. “Only your unwanted clothes and documents!”
It suddenly hit him. He remembered clearly now where he placed the medallion.
“You gave the clothes away? Every single one of them in this room?” he asked.
Tricia gave him a look. “Yeah, every one of them,”
Olen smacked his head upon hearing it. He swore in his thoughts.
Tricia looked at him, puzzled. “What?”
As he tried to regain his composure, he said, “I… hid the medallion in a jacket. It has a secret compartment,”

“Oh…” Tricia said, realizing that the jacket had been long given away. “Is it very important? A valuable object? Or of sentimental value?”

“Err…” Olen said as he composed his thoughts. “None of the above I suppose. An object of interest, I would put it”
Tricia felt a slight relief as she heard that. “Well… that shouldn’t be too much of a concern to you, right? After all, you didn’t took it with you when you left,”
She was right. It wasn’t of a sentimental value to him, neither did he know whether it was valuable. Olen questioned himself again on why he suddenly wanted to search the medallion so badly. Oh right… he thought. He remembered finding it from one of his missions when he was still in ACB. It was a particular object that he didn’t find the use for. But he kind of liked the design of it.
“Who did you give the clothes to?” he asked, suddenly.
Tricia was quite taken aback from his question. “I can’t really remember,”
“Well, please try to think!” he urged. She wasn’t too happy about it.
“I thought it wasn’t something important?!” she replied, agitated.
“Yes I know… But I need to find it somehow,” Olen explained. “Would you please… try to remember?” he asked politely.
Tricia gave a loud sigh. “I think I gave… your old clothes to the orphanage, some smaller sized ones to a charity organisation… and…”
“And..?”

“…and I think some clothes of your size to a hobo…”
Olen was bewildered. He never expected hearing that. “You gave my clothes to a hobo?!”
“I intended to give them to another charity organisation but I passed by a hobo on the way!”
Olen felt as if a huge weight dropped on him. There was no way he could find all the clothes now. “Are you sure you gave clothes of my size to the hobo?”
“He was looking rather miserable! The other clothes didn’t seem to fit him. I was just being a good Samaritan!”
Olen knew he couldn’t blame her. He was only frustrated at the possibility of the hobo making any fortune off the medallion if discovered. He would then never be able to trace the location of the medallion.
“Thank you,” he paused. “I apologize for my inappropriate outburst,” he said as he head for the main entrance.
Tricia followed behind. “Wait,” she said.
Olen looked at her, puzzled.
“You are going to look for it, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Yes, every single alley, “dodgy areas” in this city,” Olen answered.
Tricia thought for a moment. She took a deep breath and looked directly at Olen. “I’ll come with you,”
“What?!” Olen said, shocked.
“Well, if you are going to look for it, I can help you identify the hobo!” she exclaimed. “After all… I feel partly responsible for giving your clothes away…” she said as her voice softened.
Olen gave her a unbelieving look. “There isn’t any hidden intention, is there?”
“No! I’m genuine!” she defended herself.
Olen hesitated. He didn’t want to trouble her. Bringing her along would be a burden, he thought.
“I just want to help. I won’t be any sort of burden!” she said, somehow knowing his thoughts.
Olen hesitated again. But, then he managed to make up his mind. “Well then. Let’s go,”


11 p.m. – KingCross

A dark sleek BMW stopped in front of the large plaza. A woman got out of it, and observed her surroundings. The plaza had closed, and the area was deserted. Dim lights from the street lamps lit the pave way that the woman was standing on. She took a deep breathe and whispered to herself, “I think it’s somewhere close…”

Nearby, Olen was walking through an alleyway with Tricia struggling to follow behind.
“Are you mad? Haven’t we searched enough for today?” she yelled. She was panting hard, and she was amazed with how she managed to follow him the entire day. She counted that she would at least visited more than 25 alleyways and dodgy places. But, above all, she wondered where on earth he got the energy and determination.
“I didn’t ask you to come,” Olen stopped, turning back to Tricia. “I told you I would search the entire city,”
“Freak…” she swore, softly.
“What?” Olen pretended to not hear and approached her.
“I’m tired to say it!” she exclaimed. Olen gave her a look. He somehow guessed that she would curse him under her breaths.
“Well, I’ll take you home now. I’ll get a cab,” he said as he walked off.
But, as he moved away, a sudden shiver hit him. He stopped immediately in his tracks.
“Whh..at?” Tricia asked, recovering from her exhaustion.
Olen did not reply. He merely stood there, silent.
“Olen…?” she asked, puzzled.
It can’t be… Olen thought to himself.
Suddenly, he turned to Tricia and said, “Remember the KingCross plaza we passed? I want you to run back there,”
Tricia was shocked by his words. “What?!” she exclaimed, unbelieving her ears.
“Go back there now, please. I don’t have time to explain,” Olen urged.
Tricia was puzzled. But she could tell that he wasn’t joking by the tone of his voice.
Then it came again. Olen felt a striking fear. An aura was close by.
It’s close! he thought. “Go now!” he yelled on impulse.
He left Tricia behind, puzzled and scared. She had slightly felt the aura too, and now she was trembling.
Olen paced along the street. His heart was racing fast. It had been a long time that he had ever felt this fear. It wasn’t the same fear he had when he had faced the fallen angel during his first day at New York. This great fear he was experiencing, had only been amplified with the presence of Tricia. It would be disaster if she was involved.
How is it possible that a liberated demon could manifest itself here… he thought to himself in disbelief.
As he closes by the source of the aura, he touched the cross on his belt.
“Truth…” he muttered as he threw his hand upward. A shinning light flew upwards to the air from his belt. It materialized into a sword. Olen grabbed the sword swiftly in mid-air as it dropped to the ground.

He stopped on his tracks and saw his opponent. The demon had human like hands while the legs resembled of a bulls. The demon was relatively huge, and it had a disfigured bull-like face. It eyes glared with brimming fire.
“A fire element liberated demon,” Olen whispered to himself. “This isn’t going to be easy,”

The demon saw Olen, and grinned. “Cross bearer…” it said with a dark low pitched echoing voice, groaning.
“Tell me,” Olen said as he pointed his sword at the huge demon. “Why are you allowed to appear in your true form here?”
The demon laughed at Olen’s words. “Allowed? You’re pathetic!”
Olen was taken aback from the demon’s remark. He was cautious as well, as he had not fought these kind of demons in the past 5 years.
“It only took a matter of time before the balance was broken! After all, you humans helped in the process!” the demon continued.
Olen heard in disbelief. Us humans?
“Are you confused? I’m not surprised. Humans are a foolish creation of God anyway.” The demon laughed.
In an instant, Olen appeared in front of the demon, striking his sword at the still laughing demon.
But, the demon already saw through his move defended the strike with its bare hands. Olen jumped back, aiming for another strike. He aimed at the demon’s hands.

But, a spiritual barrier suddenly appeared and prevented him from moving onwards.
Coward… Olen cursed in his thoughts. I guess its time to use it…
He focused a high proportion of his spiritual energy unto his sword.
“Murasame,” he muttered, as he gently moved his finger along the blade of the sword.
The sword materialized into a longer, refiner, and thinner blade. Olen swiftly swing the materialized murasame around. Perfect… he thought.
“Interesting…” the demon said as it observed the newly materialized weapon. “I see that your sword can change elements. I assume that would be a water elemental katana?”
Olen did not reply and speedily charged at the demon. He thrust his murasame at the spiritual barrier, cleaving in slightly.

“It’s useless…” the demon said as it instantly disappeared. Olen anticipated a deadly punch from above and swiftly dodged. The demon missed and its fist slammed on the ground, blasting off flames upon impact. Olen’s murasame reacted and a water ripper was formed around it. He defended the oncoming flames with it and the water on the murasame evaporated upon impact.
“Though my flames cannot affect the realm of the living, but it can affect you, a half-spiritual being,” the demon said as it regained its composure.
Olen realized the extent of his words, and immediately dodged the flames charging from behind.
But it wasn’t the end. The flames appeared to have a mind of its own. It turned back 360 degrees and charged at Olen again.

Holding his murasame straight with both hands, Olen formed a water barrier. As the flames burst upon impact, the water barrier dissolved and splashes of water landed on the paved road.
Olen panted, as he had used a considerable amount of spiritual energy to form the water barrier. The demon merely laughed at his weakness. Without resting, he used more energy to speed up his movement as he charged towards the demon. Water splashed as his murasame clashed with the spiritual barrier. Olen instantly took another stance, and thrust his weapon at the barrier, this time cleaving all the way in. The barrier broke and dissolved.

“Impressive…” the demon said. “But, that was just the beginning,”
Without warning, Olen was hit on his stomach. He didn’t notice the attack and coughed out saliva on impact. He dropped to the ground, gripping his stomach in pain.
Forcing himself to stand up, he managed to notice an ugly deformed fist striking at him. He barely defended the attack with his murasame, and got thrown off the ground. He lost his grip on his murasame, and it landed on the ground away from him. Olen landed on the ground hard, screaming in pain.
Damn…he cursed. I can’t lose now… he said as he tried to gather his spiritual energy to recover himself from the blow. His eyes glanced at his murasame, which was 5 metres away from him.
Olen crawled on the ground, stretching his hands to reach for his murasame until the demon’s hooves stepped on it.
“You’re pathetic,” the demon mocked. “I can’t believe that this is what the Almighty has done in response! This is all too pathetic!”
Olen was silent. His eyes was focused on his murasame. His hands were still stretched out.
Wham!
He was kicked by the demon’s hooves.
“Useless. Useless!” the demon said as it repeatedly kicked Olen.
The stitching pain Olen was receiving was slowly becoming numb. His vision was becoming blurry.

Until, he heard a familiar voice.

“Grace!” a woman yelled from somewhere. The demon turned to see the interrupter. A cross earring on the woman’s right ear glowed…

To be continued…

Chapter Two – The home we once knew

It was already night, and New York city was still brimming with lights ever more. Not far from the city, the mid-twenties Italian man walked on the street of what used to be a quiet neighbourhood. He observed the surroundings, and the erected apartments were a new sight for him. He continued walking along the street, in his barely dried jacket and clothes. In his hands was a key, which he held as he walked.

Olen then suddenly stopped at a particular spot. He turned to his right, and saw what seems to be an abandoned, dark apartment. It was almost unrecognizable for him, had him not remember how to walk back to his old home, he would have missed the place. Olen stood there a while, reminiscing how the place used to look when he still lived there. He could remember the bright paints on the walls, and how some tenants would decorate their windows and their balconies. The worn, abandoned and dark building before him struck a disappointment in his heart. He noticed the board beside, confirming a new plan for the site, a small new plaza.

With a little curiosity, he decided to venture inside to see what his old place look like. He ignored the warning signs blocking the entrance and entered the building. Dusts were piling up, and some dripped on his head as he made his way to the stairs. As Olen made his way up the stairs, pushing aside webs on the way, he heard faint noises coming for above. Intrigued and yet cautious at the same time, he slowly climb the remaining stairs to the floor where the noise was coming.
As he crept along the halfway, he followed to where the noise was coming. It became clearer to him that it was the noise of somebody moving. He reached to a door and to his surprise it was his old unit.
This made him even more wary but he was puzzled at the same time. Why would anyone come to this apartment such a late night and even more particularly his old unit?

Olen took his key out, and slowly inserted it in the door lock. His hand was gently twisting the key sideways as to not make any noise to alert the person inside. While he was not sure what he would be facing next, but at the same time, he wasn’t afraid. Olen then quickly open the door, hoping to ambush the person, or some bandit inside.

He wasn’t expecting what he saw inside his unit. Inside were his furniture, photos, antiques and his old grandfather clock sitting there near the table. That wasn’t what surprised him, though.
It was that his unit that was clean and tidied. It appeared someone had been taking care of his old home while he was gone. On the table, was a lighted lamp, the only source of light in the place.

Olen looked around, hoping to locate the source of the noise. Then he heard a sniffling.
He saw a little boy, wearing a plain garment hiding under the table in front of him. The boy appeared to be shaking in fear.
A huge relief came upon him when he learnt that it was only a boy.
He approached the boy, asking “Little boy, are you living here?”
The boy looked at him with more fear, shaking even more. Olen offered his hand to the boy, “Hey there mate. Don’t worry, I won’t harm you,”
Seeing that the strange man offering his hand, the boy slowly took out his hand to reach Olen’s.

“That right,” Olen smiled. “I’m not going to hurt you,”

But he did not expect what would happen next. The boy’s face turned into demonic as their hands touched. The boy let out a demonic shriek, causing Olen to step back. But, the boy’s hands turned into sharp claws landing a big scratch on Olen’s wrist as he withdraws his hand.

Shit… Olen cursed.

The boy demon now recklessly overturned the table as he got out under it. It jumped around, damaging and destroying the furniture and antiques that were in place.

“An enslaved boy, huh?” Olen said as his hand reached for his cross which was on his belt. The demon boy continued rampaging the place while shrieking.

“Truth…” Olen muttered. The small cross on his belt glowed and materialized into a sword. Clutching his sword, he pointed it straight at the demon boy.

“Leave this boy at once or otherwise I’ll make you pay real bad,” he threatened.

The demon boy stopped at its tracks, and stared at Olen. It growled fiercely in response.

Hmph… a minor demon who doesn’t know it’s role in the spiritual realm… Olen thought.
“Well, looks like I’ve got to force you out of him, no matter what,” Olen said.
The demon boy jumped towards Olen at high speed, but Olen vanished before it could reach him.

“Here,” Olen said as he swinged his sword behind the demon boy. It clashed upon an invisible barrier.

A low class spiritual barrier… Olen thought to himself. He knew he must be careful in handling the demon boy, so he would not injure the boy’s body.
He moved in an instant, this time appearing above the demon boy. He grabbed his sword with his two hands, plunging it down straight at the demon boy. The barrier broke upon impact, and the demon boy barely dodged and fell further into the room.

“There’s no escape for you. Leave the boy now,” Olen said again as he faced the demon boy who was trying to get on its knees.

The demon boy muttered a few words that weren’t recognizable to Olen. Olen again moved in inhumane speed and appeared behind the boy and pointed his sword directly at him.

“I don’t understand your demon language. Speak in English, otherwise just die” Olen said. His eyes was filled with anger as he was furious that a demon would possess a little boy to its advantage.

The demon boy showed some fear, and tried to speak out… It managed to only mutter some understandable words… “..No… Choice”

“What?!” Olen exclaimed. He became more impatient. But then he was alerted by incoming footsteps.

“What in the blazes in going on here?!” a woman’s voice was heard. This took him totally off guard, the demon boy took this advantage and leap out through a nearby window. When he noticed it, it was too late, the demon boy had escaped.

…S… he tried to stop swearing. He quickly focused his attention to this new intruder. He walked out and saw a lady, who a slightly pretty face but one with a fierce, and an unpleasant emotion expressed. She was wearing rather worn clothes. She looked at him intently, and started yelling, “Who the **** are you? Get out of my house!”

This drove Olen even madder. He was already furious at the fact that he lost the boy, and now this strange lady was claiming the house was hers.

“What?” he replied, trying not to yell back. “This is my house, I live here,” he explained.

“No you DO NOT!” she yanked back. “I have been living here for 4 years!”

“Oh yeah?” Olen replied. “How about my pictures that is in this unit?”

She wanted to yell back but stopped upon hearing those words. She thought for a moment, and then suddenly her suddenly expression changed.

“So you are the weird ex-tenant who ran away from his mounting debts,” she joyfully asked.

Her remarks made him furious, but at the same time, he was instantly reminded of some of his old problems.

…That wasn’t the reason I left America… he thought upon himself, feeling slightly irritated that the strange lady knew about his debt problems and was making fun of him.

“Oh well,” she said. “I thought it was one of those homeless bums coming into my place again,”

She observed the place and made unpleasant remarks about the rampaged room.

“Ouh…” she muttered. “Why in the world are you rampaging your own place?!” she exclaimed suddenly.

It struck Olen and he knew he couldn’t tell her the real reason as she wouldn’t believe it. Regular human beings can’t see demons or fallen angels. It would be pointless for him to explain it to her.

“And…why are you carrying a sword?” she asked as she pointed at Olen’s sword.

“Uh… that…” Olen muttered to himself. He felt as if a weight dropped on him. There’s no way he could explain to her that it was used to kill demons. The idea of finding the right excuses were just out of his league. He was never good at making up lies. However, strangely, he realised that the girl wasn’t afraid of him at all, even when she didn’t knew that he was the original tenant of the place. In fact, she seemed fearless about anything, but rather a stinky attitude, he would put it. While his thoughts were trying to place up an excuse, the lady came walking towards him.

“Is that one your antiques?” she said.

Those words hit him. That’s right, he thought. He could use that up as a great excuse to cover up the whole story. It never deemed upon him.

“Yes…this belongs to my father,” he replied, confidently. “In fact all those antiques in this place belongs to my fathers,”

The lady was rather amused by his words. “Ohh…. But you destroyed them all by yourself, didn’t you. You must be going through a sad time,”
Again, her ridiculous provoking remarks angered Olen. He thought to himself that since he was a gentleman, he would not show his “other” side.

“No, I’m NOT going through a sad time or any depressing state in that matter,” he calmly replied. “The room was in a mess when I got here,”

Finally, he managed to convince her about the mess in the room. She enthusiastically introduced herself, as Tricia, while Olen reluctantly revealed his name. They eventually talked about how she got to live in his place. Apparently, she came from a little town from the countryside, hoping to find a better life in New York. Olen upon hearing that wasn’t surprised at all. Her boyish behaviour explained everything. The apartment owner decided to sell off Olen’s unit to her at a very cheap price, guessing that Olen won’t ever come back. But when the entire land was bought up by another company, Tricia wouldn’t leave as she had nowhere else to go. Thus, she had planned on staying in the apartment until the day of the demolition arrives. It has been almost six months since the apartment had been vacant.
Our conversations came until a point where personal questions were asked.

“So… what are doing for a living? You know, you still haven’t explained why you left your own apartment. Where did you go?” Tricia asked with eagerness.

Olen didn’t really want to answer, but he had no choice given he was confronted.

“I’m a archaeologist,” he said. Tricia responded with a wild look on her face.

“I’ve been in China for 5 years, on an excavation trip,” Olen continued, knowing he was lying.

“An excavation trip in China for 5 years? Wow. You must be joking!” she exclaimed. “What have you been digging? An ancient civilization?” she laughed.

Olen intentionally led out a cough at her remark.

“I’m sorry…” Tricia said as he tried to control her laughter. “Its just that I’ve never met someone quite like you…”

“Well… the same here,” Olen replied. “I guess I better get going. This isn’t my home anymore,” he said as he started walking away.

“Wait,” Tricia said. Olen stopped and turned to her. “You better be careful out there,”

“Why?” he asked.

“Over these months, the streets ain’t safe anymore. There have been increasing rate of deaths lately. It isn’t safe to wander alone at this time of the night. Crazy people comes out,”

“Crazy people?” Olen asked as he looked at his watch. It shows midnight.

“Yea. They will mug or kill you if you resist,” she warned. Olen observed her eyes, they were serious. He was shocked to hear that. The neighbourhood he knew was always safe.

“I see… Thank you for your warning. Do not worry about me, I can take care of myself,” he said as he turned to leave.

“Okay…” Tricia said. “Don’t stay out there too long. Everybody hides back in their home at this time,”

Olen nodded and left. As he left the apartment, a strange feeling hit him. He observed his surroundings. Tricia was right; there wasn’t a single soul on the street. He felt an uncanny aura, like the presence of demons. He expected those crazy people Tricia were referring to be demons. It puzzled him that demons could gather around in a mass populated area so easily. It became clear that New York was no longer safe. First, a fallen angel, then a demon boy, and now, the presence of more demons. He felt extremely disappointed and sad as the place he used to call safe home was no more.

I guess I better find a cheap hotel for the night… he thought to himself. He didn’t want to remain outside too long as well.

Chapter 1 – Illusions of the real world

It had been 5 years. Olen always thought that he deserved some peace after all that has happened, but he knew this peace he earned was only temporarily.
New York in the year 2010 had not changed much since he last came. Crowds of people are still buzzing around, cars are still caught in traffic making loud honking noises, and the stench of pollution had only got worse. Everybody had been living their lives the same way, nothing has changed. People are still living for money, luxuries, and mostly selfish empty lives.

The typical American Italian in his mid twenties stood there at the side of the street, in the midst of busy crowds making their way through. Olen was struck with a nostalgic feeling, but he quickly brushed it off.
He walked slowly against the fast moving oncoming crowds, holding a opened can of coke on his left hand, sipping some coke along the way.
“Princeton Tower”. He passed by those huge letters as me made his way across the junction. He turned to see the direction that he would head next. Then, he caught an image at the corner of his eye that he had never expected nor imagined to see.

He turned to see a dark skinned man, staring intently at him across the street. Olen felt a shiver as his eyes met the other man’s eyes. It wasn’t anyone he could recognize but there was something unusual about this man that demanded attention.

He decided to try his luck. Holding the coke can, he focused a stream of spiritual energy to his left hand. He felt the coke inside being pressured, and the can started to shake. The coke can was about to erupt. Within an instant, he threw the pressurized coke can towards the dark skinned man across the street. The can was flying in a jet-like motion until it exploded before touching the man.

I knew it… Olen thought. Invisible barrier…

The people around the dark skinned man were shocked but confused at what happened. They only heard a sound, but they fail to notice the coke can in minor bits all over the floor. The man continued to stare at Olen until his sight was blocked by a passing truck. As the trucked passed, Olen was no longer across the road. He had disappeared out of the man’s sight.

Running away? Such a coward… the man thought and grinned as he started to move quickly.

Olen was racing in an inhumanely speed. He was heading towards the park which was located away from the city. As he made his way there, a drop of rain fell on his cheek. He didn’t notice the dark clouds in the sky before, and it looked like a heavy rain storm is about to hit New York.


The park was empty when Olen reached. It seemed that everybody had noticed that it was going to rain and evacuated. It then rained heavily, and Olen stopped on his pace. He turned behind, his left hand reaching for his small pendant like cross on the side of his belt.

“Truth,” he muttered.

The cross on his belt glowed and materialized into a sword with a long edge. Gripping tightly on his sword with his right hand, he swinged it in front of him and it clashed with the weapon of the dark skinned man who appeared instantly in front of him.

Both men were drenched in the rain, as they gaze fiercely into each other’s eyes. The chill that Olen was feeling isn’t as strong enough as his determination.

“Fancy that,” the dark skinned man said. “We have a cross bearer”

Olen made an unpleasant remark and stepped back.

“Well… isn’t it my lucky day,” he smirked. “We have a fallen angel,”

Even though Olen said that, he knew he meant the total opposite. He had never encountered demons in the past five years, and never imagined he would first meet a fallen angel of all chances.
The dark skinned man took little notice of Olen’s provocation. He was rather excited to meet a cross bearer, for the first time.

“I don’t think you would enjoy a little introduction? It is my first time meeting a cross bearer, after all I’ve heard stories about people like you,” the dark skinned man said.

Olen was taken by surprise by his opponent’s remark. The laid-back attitude had only fuelled his anger.

“Well, I don’t mind an introduction or two,” he shrugged as he took a relaxed stance.
“But I just don’t have time for that!” he said as he pointed his finger towards the dark-skinned man.

Red beaming energies started to focus on the tip of his finger, and he shot a ball of flame at the man.
The man effortlessly avoided it and the flame hit a tree behind, leaving it on fire.
The man was quite taken aback by Olen’s action.
“You really don’t…” before the man could finish his sentence, Olen shot another ball of flame at him. The man barely avoided the flame and he began to realize that his opponent was dead serious on getting him down.
Olen continued to shoot balls of flames at the man but he avoided them easily. He knew this strategy wasn’t going to work, but he was determined to buy some time off for his next course of action.

The man was tired of playing along, and he defended the next ball of fire with his invisible barrier.

“Look, mate” he sighed. “This is getting old. Your little fire isn’t going to work against me”
Clutching his large weapon, he moved in an inhumane speed towards Olen.
Olen barely noticed the huge sword coming in his way, and just managed to defend himself on time. The swords clash and both men continued to exchange swings. Neither one was able to land a strike on the other as they were both quick in their movements, but the dark skinned man’s huge mace had the advantage on Olen’s sword.

Olen realised that he was fighting a battle of might and speed. He knew that the fallen angel could out beat him in strength any time, and his speed was the only thing to match that.

As they exchanged a couple of more blows, Olen felt he was losing. He quickly summoned a jolt of spiritual energy on his entire body and avoided the attack of the dark skinned man, moving in the speed of lightning. He instantly appeared behind the man and struck his sword. However, the invisible barrier was protecting the man, and the impact pushed Olen away.

The man laughed as Olen gathered his composure. “Take this,” the man said as he threw his gigantic mace towards Olen. Taken by surprise, Olen could barely defend against the massive weight imposed on him. He lost his grip on his sword and the impact violently pushed him against a tree, causing him tremendous pain on his back.

As he softly whined, the man picked up his mace and slowly walked towards him. He grabbed him by the collar and pushed him against the tree, exerting more pain. Olen cried in pain.

“You think your little trick would work against a fallen angel?” he laughed.
“Aren’t you cross bearers, the one appointed by the divine supposed to be stronger than this?”
The man slammed Olen against the tree again, leaving him writhing in agony.
“I am very disappointed, and here I thought that I would face a challenge from the divine for the first time,” the dark skinned man exclaimed.
He then heard Olen muttered something. “What is it did you say?!” Growing impatience, he pushed Olen hard against the wall, but Olen tried to keep his focus.
“Tell me otherwise I would end your pitiful life now!” the man said as he raised his other hand, ready to punch Olen.
“…the Divine appoints… release truth,” Olen muttered. The man looked at him, wondered whether Olen had gave up, until then Olen’s sword beam brightly behind them.
He turned behind to see engravings on the sword. There were letters from the hilt to the top, “Truth”

He then felt Olen’s both hands clutching on his hands that were grabbing on Olen’s collar.

“I wanted to say… I have no time for you,” Olen said as he used his remaining strength to free himself from the grasp of the man. The man did not expect that he would be pushed back. Olen now on his feet, quickly summoned his sword. He instantly moved away from the man who was regaining his composure.

“I have been fighting you with half of powers sealed.” Olen said as he raised his sword up high. The man looked at him bewildered.
“This rain is now my advantage,” Olen exclaimed but the man was quick to reach and was charging towards him in unbelievable speed.
“Apart from fire, I also control water,” the confident Italian man said as he thrust his sword ahead. The rain around him formed a formidable wave and stopped the charging dark skinned man on his tracks as he slipped.
“There is also one other thing,” Olen muttered as he raised his finger towards the man who was recovering from his fall. “I can also control the lightning element,”
Sparks of lightning materialized from his finger and Olen shot a bolt of lightning at the drenched man and electrocuted him severely. The man was lying down motionless.

My chance to escape… he thought to himself as he had managed to temporarily slow down the fallen angel. He looked at the man once more, and then he vanished away.

The rain stopped suddenly, and the sky became clear once more.

Olen was walking on the city streets again, this time soaked from head to toe. People were starting to crowd the streets again, keeping hold on their umbrellas as they realised the rain has stopped.

While observing the people around him, Olen thought to himself.
The world in trapped in a cage of illusions. Neither of these people will ever realise the true reality around them, the secret battle between cross bearers and the fallen angels. They only see what they are allowed to see. And what they want to see. I guess this is the ….. ……………………illusions of the real world…

As Olen makes his way to somewhere, he took a look at his watch. Hmm… he thought. The coffee shop should be still opened.
He had come all the way from China back to New York, US just to taste his favourite coffee once more.

Prologue

The battle was almost over. Both sides have exhausted most of their spiritual energies. But Lance could not give up, not at this moment. He clutched his weapon tightly as he tried to stand up. Not far in front of him was a man, lying flat on the ground, roughly beaten. As Lance held himself to stand, he tried to gather what was left of his spiritual energy to finish the man off.
“No more destruction…” he muttered. “No more enslaving…”
He struggled as he lifted his bow up, pointing towards the beaten man. An arrow beaming with light mystically materialized as he positioned himself to shoot.
The beaten man took notice of what to be his doom. He smirked as he turned his head to Lance.
“Funny… did you think that it will be over?” he provoked as he struggled to stand up.
“Go back whence you came…” Lance said as he released the arrow.

As the arrow pierced through the man, the man let out a monstrous cry. The arrow vanished into thin air as it escaped the body. The man dropped on the ground, and his cry slowly softened.
“That is why I hate British…” he muttered as he breathed his last air.

Lance looked at his opponent, finally defeated. A dark, cloud like entity freed itself from the body of the dead man. Lance called upon another magic arrow and shot it at the dark cloud. Instantly, the cloud vanished upon impact.

As Lance made sympathy remarks for the dead body, he felt faint, and dropped on his knees. He dropped his bow and turned his head up to the sky. The night was darker than ever. There was not even a single star in the sky. The moon seemed to be covered in the midst of the thick clouds.

And the battle isn’t won yet… Lance thought to himself.

The blonde man in his late twenties closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of victory and a moment of serenity. Then a loud echo was heard. Lance opened his eyes, fearing another battle. The echo which seemed to sound like a storm was coming from over the mountains which were a far distant. It was unusual to hear an echo, especially when Lance is on a large plain.
He barely stood up, gazing ahead, gathering his thoughts on what is to come.

As he took a breath, he instantly felt a dark presence behind him. His eyes narrowed as he feared that the worst scenario is actually happening to him. Before he could took a glance, a voice whispered into his ear, “Die…”

Introduction (Read before reading other posts)

This is a blog of a fictional, fantasy story I am still writing. The story is called "Garden of Finale", set in a modern time like ours (the name itself is pretty fantasy like, isn't it?). If you stumble across grammar mistakes or started to have some laugh at my limited vocabulary, please do not mind them! Its rather my first time writing a story, and do give some pointers and suggestions to improve the flow and the readability (is there such a word?) of the story. Cheers!