Word Count: 650
Popping his neck to the sides, Tazereal the fallen angel looked around the room. “It appears the ritual is a success,” Taz said to the corpse at his feet, “Thank you so very much for your power. I wasn’t sure if this would actually work.”He could feel every red blood cell in his body, knowing he could force it to do what he wanted. In fact, he could also control the spilled blood of the daemon in the room.
He had to try it, he willed drops around to lift and hover in the air, then had them shoot in every direction around him. The resulting effect was like a ball bearing bomb had just exploded in the room. Taz loved it. The control and power that was now coursing through his veins made him feel powerful, something he hadn’t truly felt in almost 800 years.
When Anubis fell, he had written the Book of the Dead while he lived like a god among the Egyptian people. This ritual to gain unholy powers from daemons were in the original book, a book Taz had taken into his possession upon killing Anubis so many millennia before. He had kept that book to this very day, just so he could gain this ability. With the Gate finally cracking, it had given him an easy opportunity to get himself a daemon as they came through scouting.
It was time to get rid of the evidence. Pouring gasoline all over the house he had used, he poured himself a trail right out the door. Striking a match, Taz got rid of any clue that he was now the second blood angel to ever exist. The only thing he had to look forward to, was surviving.
As this house joined those already burning around him, Taz decided it was time to leave. Willing his blood to force its way out of his scars on his back, he sprouted red wings, and like riding a bike, he flew away. It was incredible; the wind blowing through his hair, able to do whatever he wanted in the air. He felt like a fledgling again, finally strong enough to take his first flight. Rolling to the right, diving at the ground and pulling up at the last second, he felt whole again.
Looking at the ground, he saw a pack of hell hounds running down a deserted street, their handler in tow. This ought to be fun. Swooping in and landing just behind the handler, so quiet not even the dogs hearing heard him. “You know you let your pets get the better of you ugly.” The daemon nearly crawled out of what was left of his skin.
Turning around, the daemon had clearly been mauled several times, missing an eye and part of his face told that story. “Hmph, angel,” his words were gruff and barely understandable. “Thish is dark lansh now. Tell your mashter war hash come to hish precious creation.” He let out a laugh then whistled for his dogs to come back and attack Taz.
“Maybe you can’t tell, but I don’t work for anyone anymore.” Taz spoke calmly, then used his blood wings to cut the daemons arms off, and with a twist, took off his head with the left wing. Using the fallen daemons blood, Taz willed it to take the form of a bow in his hand. As he drew back, arrows formed, with a grin, he let loose arrow after arrow, right into each hounds head. When the final hound hit the ground, Taz flew off. I wonder how my powers hold up to a dark angel. Who am I kidding, Uriel’s probably let them all get soft since I was in the corp. Few remember the first war when Lucifer rose up and we had to banish him the first. Looks like round two is about to get under way.