"Famer's Story-writing debate tournament Round#1 Buddamoose VS TUF

Chapter 9: Finally Free.Wings. Renault couldn't grasp the concept. How his body suddenly felt so... Confident. Jumping out of that window, as if he had been doing it for years. As he flew around the dark streets, being good at staying hidden, away from from the bulk of civillian life, he managed to find himself a safe spot on about a few hundreds yards from where he could... Feel... The harm being done. He debated with himself mentally on what his next course of action should be. Suddenly he felt it again. Yes, felt it. He could feel the womans horror. She was still alive. He dived off the roof of the home, and flew towards the door of the house he could feel her inside. He retracted his wings into his back effortlessly, still surprised by the sudden natural ease of the movement. He still had his gun, that he had retrieved before taking off. He pulled it out and opened the front door to the house cautiously. Instantly, the scent of blood met his nose. Upon smelling the blood, Mitchell kicked the door open heavily, and walked in with his weapon at the high ready position. His sight picture was perfect, his hand steady. He wasn't immortal, but he felt godlike. With out pain, without fatigue, his hand barely movied unless he wanted it to. The scene looked like a normal household, minus the exception of a broken chair, and shattered glass in the main kitchen at the entence. He heard a noise, to his left, down the hallway, a slight shuffle. Instantly, he aimed his weapon in that direction. He aimed at the first door in the hallway. He heard the shuffle again, right from behind the door. This time, Mitchell kicked the door open again ready to fire rounds into his enemy. Instead Mitchell was confronted with horror. Directly in front of him, was a brutal bloddy mess of unrecognizable human flesh. Blood filled the room, and the air smelt abosutely horrible. Renault dropped his weapon in shock, unsure of what to do. He could make out a blonde woman, with gashes in her neck, and on her arms and chest. They were deep, and she was bleeding out quickly. Mitchell knew instantly that she would bleed out in a few minutes. Saving her was completely out of the cards. But that wasn't the most horrible part. The worst part was what she was holding. Tears streaming down her face, as she choked sobbing uncontrollably. In her arms, was a boy. The same boy that Mitchell had felt earlier. Dead. Cut up, and hacked everywhere. The woman gurgled, and then looked into her sons eyes. She went still, but her lips were unaudibly moving as she stared into the boys still open eyes. She looked sad, but at the same time love filled her eyes. Mitchell then saw a connection, he knew he could never fully understand. The love between a mother and her child. The woman let out a final gasp, and was gone. Mitchell fell to his knees shocked. Tears flooded his eyes. Tears of rage. "AGGGHHH!" Mitchel screamed at the top of his lungs, and collapsed in defeat. He was too late. There was nothing he could do now. She was dead, and so was the boy, and the sick fvck who did it, had gotten away. Mitchell pounded the floor repeatedly, until his knuckles bled. He felt wild, insane, with intense anger. He pulled at his hair and buried his face in the floor, trying to erase the image he had just seen, knowing that it wouldn't matter. This would never leave him. He knew this would haunt him for the rest of his life. There was nothing that could change that. Mitchell finally got up, still emotional, and dizzy. He had to get out of here. He needed to collect his thoughts, and regain himself somewhere else, not here. Mitchell had seen things like this all the time, but this was different. Normally it was after they were already dead for at least several hours. This... This he had witnessed. He had seen the hate in the mans eyes, THROUGH his eyes. He had seen the fright in the childs face, as he was struck down. And he had seen a mother die for no reason, clutching on to the last thing on earth she valued, more than anything. He had watched her drift into death. Mitchell could only hope that the woman would enjoy the realm of Zenbetna, as most souls did. Mitchell felt sick. He stumbled out into the hallway. Just as he left the door, an axe swooped down by his face, missing him by a hairswidth. Mitchell, even with his heightened senses, was too confounded to react quickly. His bloody attacker howled and thrust the axe downward again. Mitchell moved forward to miss the blade of the axe, and was hit heavily upon the head from the shaft of the axe. Of course, he didn't feel the pain, but from years of experience, Mitchell couldn't help but flinch from the attack, he knew would have been devastating otherwise. Mitchell kicked the surprised man heavily in the groin, and watched the man topple over. Mitchell wasted no time, as he raised his gun. Mitchell wanted the man to suffer. He wanted him to feel pain. He imagined himself torturing the man in front of him for hours, as he forced the man to reconcile for his sin. The thought pleased Mitchell. Suddenly Mitchell Forced himself the squeeze the trigger. Bang, Bang, Bang, Bang, Bang, Bang! Mitchell shot the entire clip ino the man skull. He then left the house, and flew. Up, and away from the disater he had just become apart of. He flew, high, far beyond the reach of human sight, into the cloud, where he flapped, and hovered. Alone, quiet, and to think for himself.The familiar voice entered his head.Now, Mitchell, you know. Now you can understand me, can't you? You know why I do what I do? Mitchell said nothing, affirming the voice's question.I do have one question though. Why didn't you do it? Torture him, I mean? Come on Renault, I know you felt it. The anger, the hurt. Any soul would. Why didn't you make him suffer the way he made them suffer? You gave the man a gift, killing him like you did. The voice was not being coy, clever, or manipulative. It sounded genuinely curious.Mitchell was still hot with adrenaline, and emotions, but he understood the question. The truth was, he knew, but he didn't really know how to answer.Mitchell Mused for a while as he considered how to reply.Finally he answered." I have agreed to do this thing for you, so I can see my wife. And maybe I also feel a little responsible for the innocents, for the victims, just as I always have as a detective. But I will not become him. The man I just murdered. I ended his life, because that's what justice has deemed neccesary of him. But I will gain no pleasure from bring him pain. Making him suffer, will not bring back the woman, and her child."Mitchell, felt satisfied with his answer as an accurate description of how he actually felt on the matter.So be it. I have to dis-agree on your methods, and philosophy, but I suppose it gets the job done. The voice responded.Then Mitchell saw another image, someone running, down an alleyway, being chased by another larger person with a blade. Mitchell didn't feel mentally stable enough, but he knew was he had to do. This was his call, and he would answer.Only 500 more to go, and I will re-unite you Mitchell, with your lovely wife. Mitchell Renault nodded. First comes first, saving the world. He kind of felt like a super hero, in a sick and twisted world. Maybe he could shine some light. But he had to be fast. He had to stop things before they happened. He couldn't just be an avenger, he had to be a protector. And he knew he could.As Mitchell flew off towards his destination, one more question finally occurred to him. "Who are you, anyway?"There was a breif pause.I thought you already knew. I came into this business recently. Yes, I think you know I was dead before I returned from Zenbetna. Let's just say you will be seeing a lot more of Daniel Rose. -----TO BE CONTINUED!(Thanks budda for the great writers debate! Good luck in the voters!)