The Dark Arcana - Chapter 22: Exit the Fool, Part One Nov 16, 2014 9:53:22 GMT -5 Sadistic likes this
Post by Nathan Saniti on Nov 16, 2014 9:53:22 GMT -5
The Dark Arcana - Chapter 22: Exit the Fool, Part One
Nathan and Rasputin circled each other, Nathan's fiery glare met only with a smug grimace from his foe. Rasputin knew he had won. He knew he had Nathan exactly where he wished him to be. Green tipped flames arose from every pore in Nathan's body as he stared daggers into his nemesis. The entire botanical garden, illuminated by Nathan's rage, an ire that one Phineas Grimm would soon feel at Deadly Intentions, held no shadowy recourse for Grigori Rasputin.
"There's nowhere left for you to cower to," hissed Nathan, no shortage of venom in his voice. "You wanted my full power, then you shall reap the wrath that comes with it!"
Overhead, clouds began to swirl in a vortex, flashes of a thunderous threat from above. Raputin outstretched his hand, catching a bolt of lightning as it descended. He readied himself as he retorted, "I'd have it no other way, my friend. I don't know why you believe yourself to be the victim. I was only returning the favor you did me when you took away my one true love." He hurled the bolt at Nathan, missing by a fraction as he dodged, and splintering an old tree at head level.
Nathan answered with a volley of green and purple fireballs, each missing their targets by the same fraction and doing as much damage to the surrounding foliage. "She was my sister! I'd have never done anything to intentionally hurt her!"
"Liar!" Another bolt whizzed just past Nathan's ear, singeing his untamable ginger locks as it passed. "You were jealous of her power, and of our love!" Another bolt found its mark at Nathan's right shoulder, spinning him away briefly, but having little effect otherwise. Rasputin sneered, knowing he would have to do better. "You had your chance at love. At least I left her alive." Two more bolts knocked Nathan back against the monolithic statue of Q.
Nathan glowered at the stone likeness of the Single Letter Superstar, the lightning flashing above seeming to give it life. A flash of guilt as quick as the electric atmosphere itself flurried in his heart before he returned his attention to the battle. He lobbed another ball of fire, distracting Rasputin long enough for Nathan to wrap him several times in a string of violently colored scarves tied in a rope. "Who has ensnared whom?" reveled the uncharacteristically enraged Mystical Madman. "I am done playing games with you, Grigori, just as I am finished allowing the Black Hand to toy with me. Now that the meddlesome Murdoc is removed from the picture Mr. Gimm and I shall have at each other and settle our dispute. In the interim, I'll take what he prizes most - the Intercontinental Championship. Then if the mood strikes me, I may enter the Battle Royale."
"Is greed taking you over, Nathan?" inquired Rasputin as he attempted to escape his bindings.
"Not at all," assured a confident Nathan. "I merely wish to enter to assure that neither the Hand, nor Murdoc get their hands upon the most valued prize in PCW. Winning it would be a heaven-sent sign of things to come, but as long as I can achieve that goal, I shall be content."
"You contemptuous Neanderthal! Have you no shame in your continuous obstruction of other people's destinies?" Rasputin willed another bolt to his side, shredding the fabric that held him. "What gives you the right, the unmitigated gall, to prevent Fate's wishes?"
"I shall do whatever I can to stop agents of Chaos like you." Nathan withdrew the remaining strand of charred cloths. "Chaos cannot have the upper hand, Black or otherwise." He doffed his hat with a single motion, sending a barrage of hatpins at his target. Knocking Rasputin back, the pins nailed him to a large oak by his cloak. (That's no joke, so keep your yolk, blokes.) As Nathan approached his trapped opponent, he held out his cane. Slowly, he unsheathed the foil within. A coil of menacing green and purple flame slowly snaked its way to the point as the tip was pressed to the chest of the ensnared wizard. "This time, my dear old associate, I shall not show you the mercy of mere banishment." Nathan moved the business end of the weapon from Rasputin's chest to his throat.
Rasputin grimaced. "Do it!" he ordered, helplessly struggling to regain freedom. "Kill me and become the Dark Arcana permanently! Spill my blood so that the world can know you as you truly are!"
A crimson blast echoed in a dome, whisking away the clouds above and snuffing the flames surrounding Nathan all in one wave, and knocking Nathan away from his quarry. Upon realizing what happened, both men fell silent, gobsmacked.
"It couldn't be!" Rasputin proclaimed.
"The Crimson Scowl?" Nathan stood slowly, trying to grasp what had just transpired.
Finally both men locked eyes upon a figured cloaked in smoke and darkness. At mid-height, the mysterious specter approached, eyes glowing a deep blue. As it stepped into the clear, the rivals fell tongue-tied, eyes wide from the apparition before them.