The Battle of North City

Dread wrote:John arrived in North City after having been ordered by his master to “check things out”. The sight that greeted him thoroughly horrified him. It was made all the worse by the several significant presences he sensed throughout the city. A battle was going on and it involved fighters varying in power, some stronger than John and others weaker than him. The defenders appeared to have already lost, unfortunately. North City was all but ruined by the time he had arrived.

Wherever he looked, he saw buildings, bodies, and all manner of vehicles (civilian and military alike) fallen and broken. Blood and oil mixed thickly and pooled into the streets until met by flames that threatened to erase some of the evidence of the surrounding ruination of civilization. Eyes gazed at him without expression; few belonged to the exceptionally old, some belonged to adults, and far too many, to John’s nausea, belonged to children.

He only needed to look to the sky to identify the culprits behind the senseless bloodshed. What he had originally perceived as a dark swirling cloud, looming ominously over the city, from a distance actually turned out to be an impossibly vast cluster of monsters. These things looked as though to have taken flight from the imagination of a sculptor whose job was to construct hideous and bestial water features atop cathedrals to warn heathens of what awaited them in Hell.

John observed that hundreds of the gargoyles had already died. He saw burned body parts of the monsters here and there that suggested an involvement of explosives or a variety of ki attacks. He noticed other gargoyle corpses more intact than their desecrated companions; these specimens had been assaulted by waves of bullets as numerous as their bleeding entry wounds appeared. For every downed beast he counted, however, John reckoned there had to have been hundreds more ready to strike.

A sudden bang reached his ears and it was followed by a second and then a third. He turned toward the sound and laid his eyes on an ambulance that had been flipped over onto its side. He heard another bang that confirmed someone inside was trying to escape its confines. He raced over and noticed that the door had been twisted and punctured by claws. It was no wonder why the occupant could not free themselves. He looked through the window then backed off in time before a pair of feet slam into it, cracking the glass a little. John returned to the door to help free the passenger when a sudden cacophony of shrieks reached his ears.

He looked up in time to see that half a dozen of the winged abominations went flying straight toward him. He nearly powered up to combat them when the noxious odor of gasoline invaded his nose. He quickly glanced toward the source of the smell and saw that the ambulance was profusely leaking fuel. The stream of gasoline raced toward a fire only a few paces away from the vehicle. He looked back toward the gargoyles, but some distance still separated them from him. He grimaced, knowing he would have to figure out a way to save the trapped passenger while also fighting off the monsters.

An idea occurred to him and he turned toward the ambulance, he grabbed the door handle and wrenched the door completely off its hinges with an accompanying shriek of metal tearing. He cast it aside; it gave a resounding clang as though protesting John’s treatment of it. He then reached inside for the young and red-beehive-haired woman who had prepared to kick the door again. She screamed as soon as she saw him hovering above her and kicked at him anyway. John seized one of her ankles and avoided the other foot easily. “Sorry about this,” John said; he had no time to explain his intentions.

He yanked her out of the vehicle and deftly swung her over one of his shoulders. She coughed once then tried turning to examine the individual who had either captured or rescued her. “Stay still,” John said and bucked his shoulder to make sure she listened.

He then flew just above the ambulance and dug his fingers into its roof, further twisting and damaging its exterior. The woman observed this action with astonishment as John groaned and lifted the entire vehicle off the ground. “How?” She began, but he ignored her; at least she had the presence of mind not to move as John kept her balanced, albeit precariously.

John brought the ambulance above his head as it continued to rain gas down onto the ground. He watched the trail carefully, willing it to move faster toward the crackling flames. When gasoline finally met fire, John hurled the ambulance at his fast-approaching pursuers. They had extended their claws and were almost upon him. At the same instant that he had hurled the emergency services vehicle their way, John blasted away from the scene.

The woman looked back; it was the only view her present position granted her. She watched the fire greedily lap up the gasoline and surge toward the ambulance, hungry for more. The gargoyles tried tearing apart the object headed their way just as they had shredded military aircrafts. The instant they sunk their talons into the ambulance’s exterior, however, it exploded magnificently; assuredly killing the creatures. The resulting ball of angry fire and terrible smoke billowed upward while a resulting shockwave of extreme heat hurried outwards in all directions, consuming all breathable air within its path.

The wave chased after John and momentarily enveloped him and his passenger, making both of them cough and struggle for air. He willfully persisted in seeing the woman to safety and put on an extra burst of speed. The heat mercifully receded as though sucked back into the mass of fire that continued scorching the sky and plaguing it with its choking smoke. John finally set own and gently brought the woman down onto her feet. “How did you do that?” She asked, absolutely shocked.

“Leave,” Was John’s only response.

“What? What do you mean? I can’t just walk away from all this!” She said as she gestured at the city. “You think this is just something I wear for laughs?” She asked while pointing to her paramedic’s uniform. “I have a job to do, now more than ever!”

“You know what these things can do; you won’t survive,” John told her.

“People are dying and they need my help,” She argued.

“People are dead and are beyond your help.” John coldly pointed out.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a superhero? What kind of an attitude is that? There are still people who could use my help.” She said.

“I am no hero,” John informed her; he paused and hesitantly said, “Your arm is broken.” Her right arm had dangled helplessly throughout their flight together.

“I’m ambidextrous,” She boasted. “I don’t need both arms to help people.”

John seized her injured arm; she scowled at him with an obvious expression of pain, but her pride was obvious enough. She refused to cry so as not to show him any sign of weakness; John knew the feeling. He hated appearing fragile in front of “Coach”, the man he hated above all others. “What are you doing?” She asked. “Let go of me.” She demanded.

John ignored her again; she could not hope to pull away from him and she did not try. She simply watched and waited out of curiosity. He focused positive energy onto her arm and felt bone and tissue reconnecting and cells replenishing themselves where they had been lost. The woman giggled despite herself. “What? That tickles,” She said, but John made no comment.

“Your arm is fixed.” John said after a time. “You can help twice as many people now,” He gave her a nod of respect for her bravery then turned away from her.

“Where are you going?” She asked.

“I think I might try doing the hero thing after all,” John said; he attempted to grin just before he took off, but the macabre scene around him kept him from feeling any humor or amusement. “This is horrible,” He remarked aloud as he flew deeper into the city.

Spoiler:

Dread wrote:“I am an idiot, that’s all there is to it. I’ve gone and lost my mind,” John spoke only to himself as he flew toward the epicenter of the battle.

Crimson rain suddenly showered him; it felt warm and smelled strongly of copper. John gazed about him and noticed several dismembered gargoyle body parts falling all around him. Some tremendous force had scattered much of the enemy horde to the four winds, John realized. He shook his head to try and remove some of the monster blood from his form, but it had already begun to stick. He almost opened his mouth to complain, but he kept it shut out of fear of swallowing any of the various fluids that continued pouring. He safely kept his complaints in his head. The only way this could get any worse is if Coach was here. Knowing him, he probably had something to do with this mess.

John arrived at long last at the place that had once emanated several significant power sources. Some of them had already begun to fade and, from the amount of monster corpses and remains piling up, John could only assume that these powerful beings had come in the hopeless endeavor of saving the city. He hesitated to proceed any further, however. He feared these people because he had only ever encountered others with powers like his who wished to use them for harmful purposes. What if this was some kind of trap? Would it not just be like “Coach” to send John into a situation that almost certainly assured his demise?

A sudden memory flashed in John’s mind and as quickly as it appeared, it served its purpose. He remembered the kindest words anyone alive had ever spoken to him. He recalled the words of the woman who had promised him love, affection, admiration, a home, and a family. “…If people do blame you like you say then I’ll stand up and I’ll say ‘Shame! Shame on you! This is a good man who does what he can and you should all wish to be like him! I know I do!’ I’ll tell them ‘If there were more like him then more people could be saved from terrible people!’”

“It’s not fair,” John sobbed as he wiped tears from his face. “Why do I have to be the ‘good man’? What if what I can do isn’t enough?” His excuses held no sway over his decision, however. She believed in him and even though he had refused to stay with her, he would, at the very least, prove himself worthy of her compassionate words.

John cast aside all his fears and proceeded forward and, not much further, he encountered a strange sight. An alien, assuredly giant by human standards, had fallen. John readily accepted him as an otherworldly being for he had encountered extraterrestrials before. Even though the alien’s energy had dangerously waned, John recognized its signature. It belonged to one of the presences he had sensed earlier. Who was this strange being? Who was he to come to Earth and help the humans wage their battles? He is a friend. John thought, but that word, friend, seemed as alien to him as the strange being lying at his feet.

“I will help you,” John spoke with definite finality.

He held his hands above the fallen alien and focused his ki onto the individual. Just as before, John sought out his injuries and directed positive energy toward wherever its services were required. Even though the alien’s body proved vastly biologically different from the human paramedic, John still recognized the healing process. It was slow going as a result of the extensive damage that the alien had endured, making John wonder just what kind of a person this was to set aside his life for the well being of another world. Despite his curiosity, he focused on what needed done and never once paused to marvel at the noticeable differences between the alien and the human race.

When he had done all he could for the stranger, John stood up and regarded him for a time. “Do not make me regret this decision.” He spoke calmly, but with an audible severity to his tone that made his words almost seem like a threat.