Chapter 2 – The Thing Beneath My Skin

  “He’s fucking useless, that’s what he is. FUCK!”

  Hill cursed as he threw the bottle of beer he was holding to the curb. He and his subordinates had just left their favorite bar in inebriation. He was reeling in frustration and anger, and for good reason. His boss, the leader of a local gang, Redman, had suddenly decided to move their turf from the Fourth District to the Sixth District.

  “This place provides a much better source of income than that horrid district,” one of his lackeys, Rick, chimed in unenthusiastically. In truth, he was actually relieved that they were moving. There had been rumors of a terrifying demon that roamed the streets at night, devouring the souls of the wicked.

  At first, he had brushed it off as nothing more than a joke, but as time passed and he saw fewer of his members’ faces, he came to be deeply terrified at the veracity of these rumors.

  After all, for there to be smoke, there had to have been a fire causing it.

  “Yo boss, would you look at that,” another member suddenly whistled. They all turned their heads and were surprised at the sight.

  At the side of the road stood a young girl who seemed to be around the age of eighteen. Not too pretty, but easy enough on the eyes.

  She wore a cropped T-shirt and a bulky jacket over it with baggy jeans. However, it couldn’t fully hide her nicely balanced figure. The gang members drooled at the sight.

  The girl seemed to be waiting for a cab at the side of the road with impatience on her face.

  Hill couldn’t help but let out a lascivious chuckle, thinking — Just when I needed to vent a little, a little lamb is sent my way.

  Redman’s rules usually kept them in check. No rape. No murder. Harassment was tolerated—but that was it.

  However, considering they wouldn’t be in the district for long, Hill couldn’t help but entertain the thought.

  He arrogantly strolled up to the girl, who just seemed to notice them.

  “Hey there, little lady. You look lost. Need some help?” he chortled in what he thought was a suave tone.

  An apprehensive look appeared on the girl’s face before she quickly forced an irritated and angry expression.

  “G-Get lost. I’m waiting for a friend of mine.”

  She knew she had to be firm in moments like this and not let them see any weakness. However, she seemed to underestimate them a bit.

  “Hey, don’t be so jumpy. We’re just a couple of kind strangers trying to help a damsel out,” Hill replied before motioning with his eyes.

  Rick and the others seemed to understand as they began to encircle the girl, cutting off her paths of retreat except for the one leading to an alley nearby.

  Inadvertently, she was slowly pushed back into the alley without realizing it.

  One of the gang members seemed to have a little shred of reasoning and couldn’t help but interject—

  “Uh, guys, are you sure about this? Won’t boss Redman be angry at us?”

  The girl paled as she realized their motives while Hill scowled at the lackey.

  “Shut it. Hmph, the boss would only be angry that we didn’t let him get a turn. You know what, let’s knock her out and bring her to the boss after we’re done,” Hill made an outrageous suggestion.

  The other gang members laughed sinisterly as they closed in on the panicking girl. She had already started calling for help, so they had to hurry.

  CLANG!

  However, before they could continue any further actions, the clanking of a dumpster caught their attention. In the depths of the alley, an indistinct shadow materialized out of thin air.

  Under the shallow rays of the cloud-covered moon, all the spectators could make out was a human-like figure that seemed to be carrying something heavy on its back.

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  It stood as straight as a rod, and if not for the occasional body spasms that jerked its body as though it was just remembering how to breathe, one could mistake it for a statue. Though Hill and his members couldn’t see its eyes, they could still feel a horrifying gaze settle on them.

  “What in the world—” Rick couldn’t help but mutter before he was cut off by Hill’s loud voice.

  “Hey, punk! Keep walking! This is the Reeds gang turf!” he bellowed menacingly.

  “...”

  No response.

  Hill grew increasingly uncomfortable with the silence that followed, so he pulled out a pocket knife and walked up to the figure.

  “Didn’t you hear what I said? Beat it—”

  By this point, Hill had already gotten close enough to see the features of the figure. It was a young man, younger than he expected, standing there motionless as though dead.

  He then noticed his black raven hair, bare traces of what seemed to be a tattered shirt clinging to his body. There were numerous bloody cuts all over his body, not to mention the bloody wound that opened on his chest vaguely showing some inner parts.

  A chill ran down his spine when he saw the wound. What sort of gruesome experience did this kid go through to have such horrific wounds?

  Naturally, this figure was Uriel.

  Suddenly, Hill felt a vast shadow hover over him along with the sound of metal screeching against metal. His sixth sense, honed from years of gang fights and bloody battles, went haywire at that moment.

  However, it was too late.

  Under the terrified gazes of his gang members, they only saw a flash of coppery light along with a tearing sound, and suddenly Hill’s large body was split in two — both ends falling in different directions.

  ...

  There was silence for a good four seconds before Rick and the other lackeys reacted.

  “HOLY SH*T!!”

  “F*ck, run!”

  Several exclaims rang out at that moment, but they would be the last they would ever make.

  WHOOSH!!

  A large gust of wind was felt before Uriel’s figure vanished and reappeared before a gang member.

  His right wing stretched out, revealing its form—large avian metallic wings that took up two-thirds of the space he occupied. Each feather seemed to be smelted with adamantium and gave off a bloody sheen, as though craving blood.

  His right wing seemed to elongate with gaps of space between each segment as it slashed across space faster than the naked eye could track, beheading the gang member. Before his head touched the ground, Uriel’s figure had already appeared before another gang member, completing another decapitation with an indifferent expression on his face.

  A horrified expression, forever fixed on the gangster’s face, flashed across Uriel’s pupilless eyes, making the scene much more horrifying. His figure kept flashing across the scene, carrying out decapitations as though what he was butchering were common livestock and not people.

  In the time it took to finish a popsicle, all eleven gangsters were lying in a pool of their own blood, with the blood-drenched figure of Uriel standing in the middle of this macabre scene with an eerie stillness.

  What’s more, the blood of the slain slowly wriggled as though possessing a life of its own, moving toward Uriel’s wings that were lowered.

  Bit by bit, the blood was absorbed into them.

  A strange silence settled into the scene as the girl who had previously been harassed by the gangsters became the sole survivor. Her hands covered her mouth to prevent her from screaming as an expression of extreme terror was painted across her face.

  Her short brown hair was already drenched red with blood, but with everything that had happened, it was the least of her concerns.

  Uriel’s head suddenly twitched before turning to meet her terrified gaze. She flinched, clearly stunned by the gaze of the pupilless entity before her.

  “...T-Thank you...” she managed to stammer out as her chest rose and fell rapidly.

  She had watched a lot of films which made her suspect that the entity before her had rescued her from the gangsters—otherwise, who knows what would have happened to her by now.

  She summoned a bout of courage in an effort to communicate with Uriel and ask what he was, but all of a sudden—

  SHING!!

  Uriel’s left wing disappeared, leaving behind an afterimage, and in the blink of an eye, the sharp blades making up the feathers were already a centimeter away. If his wing connected, it would be a clean beheading, leaving no room for any chance of survival.

  As the scent of death descended upon the girl, her eyes couldn’t help but shut in despair, tears streaming down the sides of her face.

  This was her end.

  SHIICK!

  However, the expected pain of having one’s neck cut through didn’t come, causing the girl to open her eyes in confusion.

  Her eyes widened as she beheld the behemoth in front of her.

  It towered at almost three meters tall and had a ripped body that seemed to embody explosive strength at its peak.

  A majestic silver mane framed its feline face that was covered in black fur, giving it a regal and sacred yet ominous aura. Its fur-covered upper chest was bare, with only a pair of white joggers on its legs.

  Despite being bipedal, its legs still retained their feline curve as they braced against the concrete floor, causing the ground to fracture.

  Its golden eyes inspected the shallow cut on its arm that was no bigger than a fingernail, dark gold blood oozing out from it.

  “You must be very powerful to be able to cause a wound of this calibre on me,” the creature spoke languidly, an expression of regal indifference on its face.

  If one looked closely, however, they could detect a hint of curiosity in its gaze as though it had just found a new toy.

  It looked back at the girl it had just saved and nudged its head towards the entrance of the alley.

  “Run along, little thing. This is not a world where you belong.”

  As the girl took off with shaky steps, the creature gazed at Uriel’s figure as a smirk formed on its face.

  “Remember the name Lampard. The king of this here territory you find yourself in.”

  A golden aura shrouded its powerful body as its gaze grew sharper.

  Hopefully, I’ll be well entertained.

  With a flicker that caused the surrounding air to be blown back, both Uriel’s and Lampard’s figures collided with a bang that could be heard across the entire street.

  Author's Note:

  first novel and I’m super excited to share this story with you. I’ll be releasing new chapters every Saturday!

  Constructive criticism is always welcome, and I’ll do my best to read through your comments and improve along the way. Thanks so much for your support—it really means a lot!