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Bishop stared into the ladie's eyes, uncomprehending. He was in pain.
Hellfire danced around inside his head driving him further and further into
madness.
An alarm on his watch started to beep loudly and he was dragged back into
conciousness. The reality of what was about to happen dawned on him.
He let go of the woman suddenly and jumped to his feet. "I have to save them!"
Visions of children playing in the streets slammed into his mind.
Young lovers holding eachother, old ones holding hands, people with
oppurtunity ahead of them, their whole life. They were all gone.
Disintegrated in the blast.
There was still time.
"Who do you need to save?" The lady asked, not understanding the ravings of
the insane man.
The alarm notified Bishop thatbhe had twenty minutes left, it would be close.
"Thanks for listening to me." Bishop said as he dove into the shadows, making
his way back to his home by the speed of darkness.
As he travelled he was hammered by visions of horror. The darkness would nto
let him get away so easily.
Bishop struggled with every last bit of strength and sanity he had to make it
through the trip. He was almost there, He had only been travelling for five
minutes when...
Everything stopped. He became motionless in the dark rift, standing on
nothingness.
A figure stood before him, his aura menacing.
"I can't let you pass." it said to Bishop, drawing a long sword from a
sheathjer on it's back. The figure wore black iron armor fromhead to toe. A
full helmet disguising his face. He was the darkness.
"Who are you?" Bihsop asked, loosening his combat bat in it's spot on his
back.
"I am your master, Bishop. You are my slave." the dark figure swung his blade
through the air, testing it's weight. "It's been a while since I've had an
opponent as formiddable as you Bishop, I am truly honored."
Bishop swore, he didn't have time for this. Had he made his decision too late?
"I am not your slave." Bishop said to the apparition, his combat bat slid
into his hands. "I'll prove it too."
He charged toward the figure and swung his combat bat, aiming directly for
the center of the figure's chest plate. The impact sent the armored figure
flying back into the darkness, but he quickly recovered. "It's been so long
since I felt pain. It's rather, exhilerating!" the man taunted Bishop, his
helmet making his voice echo, giving him an overpowering tone.
"Wait 'til it starts to hurt." Bishop hissed, crouched down into a kneelign
position, waiting for the man to attack.
The armored figure took the initiative and ran, full force at Bishop,
bringing his sword down to take off his head.
Bishop rolled under the blow and popped up behind the fiure, who quickly span
around and back-handed Bishop with the back of his bnalck gauntlet.
Bishop reeled as the figure made a diagnol, slicing motion towards Bishop,
who barely avoided the blow, the front of his shirt and jacket being slashed
open.
"Yield, you silly fool. You can not win." the voice echoed.
"Says who? You? Who the Hell do you think you are?" Bishop leapt inside the
reach of the man's sword and brought his bat down on the side of the mans
knee, knocking his legs out from under him.
As the man fell Bishop reversed his bat so that the axe head was now where he
would strike. He brought it down in a chopping motion as the man rolled. He
rolled too slow and the figures left hand came off, lying in the darkness,
surrounded by a small pool of blood.
"You're good, but not good enough!" as Bishop recovered from the axe swing
the man sat up and thrust his word into Bishop's stomache, the blow was
fatal, Bishop felt blood oozeout of the wound as the sword ground roughly
aghainst two of his ribs.
Bishop was stunned. HE fell back as the menacing figure stood there over him,
laughing as he watched Bishop suffer, the sword remaining in Bishops gut.
Bishop was not defeated though. He felt strength inside of him that he never
knew he had, bubbling up from inside of the depths of his soul, like a
cleansing wave. Peace. Serenity. Hope. It was there, but he still wasn't free to have it. Bishop growled as he placed his hands on the sword and pulled it slowly out of his stomache, the sword makinga sticky, sucking noise as he did so. "I am my own man!" Bishop screamed asx he freed the sword and slammed it into the ground, staring at the one-handed figure with rage of the suffering in his eyes. "You're done!" Bishop picked up his bat and and ran towards the man, swinging upwards with it he cleaved through his armo and up his chest. The figure screamed in pan and rage as Bishop defeated it. It fell to the ground, it's helmet rolling off into darkness. Bishop turned the body over with his foot, he wanted to see who was behind the armor. The suit was empty. Bishop's conrtoller had no face. Fear has no face. As his adrenaline wore off, Biushop felt the stinging pain of his wound, and began to become dizzy. He had to hurry. Oscar sat on a couch, watching the little red digital numbers on the bomb count down. One minute. "I really should be going." Oscar said outloud. He didn't really care if the bomb went off or not. He wondered where Bishop was, why he wasn't here to witness his 'miracle'. He sighed and stood up slowly, leaving the room, where the bomb sat, and closing the door behind him. The instant the door closed Bishop stumbled out of the shadows, holding his gaping wound with one hand and steadying himself with the other. He hobbled over to the bomb and layed across it, blood flowng freely over the controls. Bishop drew his forty four and aimed it at the ceiling light. As soon as he shot it out, he had the bomb and was travelling through another dark rift, this time up. Way up. 10 miles above New York a small piece of space debri entere the atmosphere and was making it's way down, burning up as it went. Bishop and the bomb apeared underneath it's shadows, 10 miles above New YorK Bishop looked down at the clock. "Five, four, three, two, one..." A large explosion occured ten miles above New York. No one was reported hurt. It was a modern bomb, there was no fall-out. No casualties were reported. But there was one. It wasn't a life being lost, though. It was a soul being saved
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