Johnny Nightwalker: Alliance

Johnny gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. “You really are a monster. You have no hope of redemption.”

“And you have no hope of beating me,” Omega said with a grin.

“Enough talk!” Famine rushed with an attack, head on.

Omega leisurely turned his attention to his assailant. He dodged every swing, every kick. Famine grew frustrated and growled at this.

He laid a hand down on the ground. Vines, bones, rocks, dirt, and other greenery erupted underneath Omega’s feet.

Famine grinned as he stood proud, his prey in his clutches. “I’ve got you right where I want you, fiend.”

Omega made no effort to resist. “Right where you want me, eh? I guess you forgot about a little something…” The large makeshift hand crumbled away from him.

“what? What the Hell?!” Famine took a step back.

“let me demonstrate to you how it’s done…properly.”

Omega raised his right arm. The earth shook violently and erupted underneath Famine. He was engulfed by the very same method.

“Your power betrays you, peasant. It’s no longer yours to control,” said Omega as he tightened his grip on Famine.

“Brothers…help…me,” Famine struggled to say.

Death appeared behind Omega and manifested a brilliantly glowing scythe. It radiated with a holy aura. He brought it down and willed it through the hulking man.

However, it shattered as it struck Omega, leaving Death startled. He manifested an orb of purplish-black at their nemesis’ face.

“Perish…” he said with a low raspy voice.

Omega laughed and took a deep breath. He blew the ball of energy back at Death, knocking him down.

“I think it’s time for you all to know your real place,” Omega said. An invisible force hoisted Death into the air, “Say goodbye to your brothers, War.”


Johnny sent a swarm of nanomachines at Omega. He swung about wildly, swatting and batting at the incessant insects. No matter how many he destroyed, more were replicated.

“Your pathetic parlor tricks will get you nowhere, Omega shouted.

War reached to his feet and willed everything he had into his right fist. He waded through the shimmering cloud of machines and appeared before the brute. He swung with all his might he had left. It sent the monster that was Omega, hurling through the air. An icy blue shockwave radiated throughout Omega’s body; his grip on Death and Famine broke. The nanomachines followed and did their job of disassembling and dismembering.

“You think you’ve won? You’re pathetic! Just wait—” Omega’s voice was cut off as he dissipated into nothingness.

It’s over.

The four all sighed in relief.


The End’s Messenger

"Fire Place Angel" Photo by Scott Robinson. Scott Robinson has no affiliation with me or A.B.Normal Publishing Media Group, nor do they support my work and/or practices.

Photo by Scott Robinson. Scott Robinson has no affiliation with me or A.B.Normal Publishing Media Group, nor do they support my work and/or practices.

To say, “It was a dark and stormy night,” like how so many stories had begun, would be considered an understatement. This particular night was truly a testament of nature’s wrath…and beauty. The inked sky was full of irregular crackling javelins of light that blazed across the darkened heavens. In its wake was an absolute drenching rain that could soak down to the marrow of man. The winds—rabid and vicious—roared and clawed at all that would dare stand in its path. Thunder bellowed its horn of war, resonating as it rolled throughout the mortal world. Yes, my friend, this, this was truly the storm of the century.

In my ignorance, I shrugged it off as a typical phenomenon. I walked away from the large picture window, to retire to the rosewood leather chair by the fireplace (having been satisfied with my gaze out into the bewildering twilight). I lit the cigar I had retrieved earlier, happenstance upon the weather’s dastardly interruption. I crossed my legs; the silk pajamas lightly ruffled in the elegance and comfort. Here, I sat alone in the dim study. The flicker of the flames bathed the room in a soft orange intravenously with a yellow contrast. The crimson walls were now richer in their hue, as the flames’ light made the shadows dance upon the walls. Warmth radiated from the resurging power of the fire in the study. I observed the flames that danced the most tribal of nature while others feasted upon the wood’s carcass. The room flooded with the constant contest of fire and wind, it all overwhelmed my ears.

As I fixated further upon the flames, I could hear the howls of the wind and the roar of the fire become as fluent as any spoken word. Where then the flames soon took on a form: a face, a slender, and curvaceous body slowly. Here…before me now was there ever such beauty and grace! I remained seated, paralyzed…speechless. Whether it was fear or curiosity that struck my fancy, the enchantress with an elegant face flickered, as it withheld its splendor.

A soft enticing whisper echoed in my mind beckoning me nearer. “Servant of life and flesh, heed the call. War is upon the world! The end of days is to come to pass!”

The pure marbled yellow-orange-white glossed with intent—such fixated—she stared deep into my eyes, like a lioness’s gaze upon her prey. My eyes swelled with disbelief; I was dumbstruck. I turned my gaze away, having become lost in thoughts that raced, where I was led into the depths of my mind—I scrambled and sought the doors for answers, all of which were empty.

I turned to face the fatal attraction. I knelt close to the siren, and she revealed visions that flooded my mind of what would soon come to pass. The whisper, now disembodied, echoed once more.

“Man’s life is to come to an end. True retribution is at hand. The time. . .is nigh. It is the time that all mortals fear of—the end. However, all is not lost, for the world will be reborn. Fire shall cleanse the impurities. The scarring that evil has left upon the face of the earth shall be purified. The pure shall be soothed and reconciled, from which they shed from. The judgment on high has been passed. The cogs of the new future have begun to turn. To advise the ushering of the forthcoming age: selection, devotion, and truth, must endure. For on the first day—fire—purges the impure. Upon the second day, lightning will clash, tempering, and reshaping. On the third, the wind—strengthens and seals. On the final day, water shall cleanse and further purify. A new day will then emerge, marking the era of a true beginning. It is on this day. The chosen are relinquished of slumber and returned. Where then upon the next, those that committed such aggravated acts against the name of life will sprout and also begin anew.”

These events were told, bold and genuine. The wind rang soft and pure in my ears. As I stood erect before the unknown enchanting messenger, enthralled, blinded, I nodded in acknowledgment of my task.

Slowly the life-giving inferno soothes its rage and dies. The once sultry temptress now turned to ash before me. The soft glowing embers wriggle, writhe, and squirm, before erupting wildly into a hint of a new spark of life.

A smile crossed my face while a tear fell. I retired to my chair to finish my cigar while the blaze around me consumes the world, and I. I am soon greeted and embraced by a long lost love. My eyes close as I am relinquished of all wrong.

Lightning continues to play its concerto while fire and the wind elegantly waltz while the rain riddled the somber ash with its pure tears—the embers laying dormant.

The end had come…just as it was foretold…by the tempest temptress messenger.

Robert J. S. T. McCartney
A.B.Normal Publishing and Media Group