Post by JESSE ALEXANDER TURNER on Sept 27, 2013 4:24:12 GMT -6
Thunder rolled outside, so loud it rattled the rafters of the old, abandoned church. The rumbling of both sky and earth grew in intensity, until dust was falling from the old beams, and cracked the stained glass in the windows.
There were other sounds now, too. Weapons clashing, screams, flames, but it was all so far away and Jesse just wanted to sleep. He'd sleep anywhere, even with those visions plaguing his mind's eye constantly. He was just so tired...
A hand touched his jaw then, levering his head up. Through his bloodstained eyes, Jesse saw Josh right in his face.
"It didn't have to be this way, Jesse... But you left me no choice."
Jesse didn't reply; he could feel the sword pierce his stomach, the long blade of it lodged near his spine. A cold yet burning pain swam through his being from the point of injury, upward and outward in a way that would have made Jesse nauseous. But that definitely wasn't bile welling up in his throat, the lack of acidic burn to his gullet told him it was blood. He could feel his counterpart partially holding him up when his legs decided to screw him over and threatened to collapse beneath him, one of his now slowly decaying and cracked hands grabbing hold of the ones curled around the hilt of the sword. Whatever his counterpart said then, the anti-Christ couldn't really make out the words very well past the sound of his own pounding heartbeat, though he had no doubt it was some pompous bullshit about being 'sorry' and 'this needing to be done'.
Jesse raised his head slowly, eyes taking too long to focus on Josh's face this time. Then he smiled, surprising his mortal enemy.
"Save me your guilt trip, Josh. Just fucking end it already..." His words were cut off by a hacking cough that produced blood as the son of God gave a sharp twist of the blade to finish it. A sudden heat, like lightning, shot through him, frying his nerve endings and synapses. A deep cold followed, settling over him like being doused in ice water. Some part of Jesse's rapidly failing brain realized he'd felt like this once before, but had no time to remember when as a bluish-white energy wave erupted from his dying body, expanding out and blasting across the landscape. Angels were thrown to the ground, and demons were obliterated when it struck them.
The shock-wave traveling all the way to the horizon, Jesse's demonic army died with him. Beyond the crumbling church's walls, nothing but scorched dirt and dying foliage was left, leaving the landscape blackened and desolate.
There were other sounds now, too. Weapons clashing, screams, flames, but it was all so far away and Jesse just wanted to sleep. He'd sleep anywhere, even with those visions plaguing his mind's eye constantly. He was just so tired...
A hand touched his jaw then, levering his head up. Through his bloodstained eyes, Jesse saw Josh right in his face.
"It didn't have to be this way, Jesse... But you left me no choice."
Jesse didn't reply; he could feel the sword pierce his stomach, the long blade of it lodged near his spine. A cold yet burning pain swam through his being from the point of injury, upward and outward in a way that would have made Jesse nauseous. But that definitely wasn't bile welling up in his throat, the lack of acidic burn to his gullet told him it was blood. He could feel his counterpart partially holding him up when his legs decided to screw him over and threatened to collapse beneath him, one of his now slowly decaying and cracked hands grabbing hold of the ones curled around the hilt of the sword. Whatever his counterpart said then, the anti-Christ couldn't really make out the words very well past the sound of his own pounding heartbeat, though he had no doubt it was some pompous bullshit about being 'sorry' and 'this needing to be done'.
Jesse raised his head slowly, eyes taking too long to focus on Josh's face this time. Then he smiled, surprising his mortal enemy.
"Save me your guilt trip, Josh. Just fucking end it already..." His words were cut off by a hacking cough that produced blood as the son of God gave a sharp twist of the blade to finish it. A sudden heat, like lightning, shot through him, frying his nerve endings and synapses. A deep cold followed, settling over him like being doused in ice water. Some part of Jesse's rapidly failing brain realized he'd felt like this once before, but had no time to remember when as a bluish-white energy wave erupted from his dying body, expanding out and blasting across the landscape. Angels were thrown to the ground, and demons were obliterated when it struck them.
The shock-wave traveling all the way to the horizon, Jesse's demonic army died with him. Beyond the crumbling church's walls, nothing but scorched dirt and dying foliage was left, leaving the landscape blackened and desolate.