AN: So, it has come to pass. I have decided that I need to do this story proper justice and not just hide from it.

Nocturne is the tale of a young former soldier who ends up in another world, one that feels far more like home than any other place he had ever been on his world of origin. It is a retelling of my much older work, Nocturne. This time I changed the narrative to better suit what I was trying to convey in the original, and hopefully will use more subtly.

Those of you that hated something that happened in the second chapter of the original... don't worry. That's one of the things excised in this retelling. It ain't happening in this version.

For those of you who are new to Nocturne, please know that this story is GRAPHIC in many ways. The fight scenes will be as absolutely detailed and visceral as I can make them, but the love making scenes will be as well. I will not shy away from this. If I create a scene of utter destruction where someone sweet and warm has to beat the life out of someone or have their life beaten out of them, then I will write a sex scene with just as much lurid and graphic detail.

If your heart cannot stand graphic fight scenes of a brutal nature, something at least along the lines of stories such as Freezing then skip this. Good people get hurt, get talked smack to, and may end up extremely hurt in graphic manner. The fight scene in this first chapter is a bit tame compared to what may come in the future. Bear that in mind. The mature tag will be well earned.

anyway, love it or hate it, please comment. The comments I receive will help me determine whether I will continue this update past the first volume on this site or whether I need my own website for this one.

--

I have often wondered just what it was that I wanted out of life. It always seemed that no matter what I did, I was never right. Not the right of being correct, but the right of feeling like I belonged in any given situation. Often, it seemed as though my purpose in life was non-existent. Who was I? What was I?

No matter what I did, or said, in the end I was simply not right. What was the purpose of living a life where I did not even feel alive? How could I find a way to stop feeling wrong in everything that I did? That was the most important question of my life, and ultimately the only one that I could not answer that I knew should have one. I was a square peg in a round world, and it was impossible to properly fit.

--

Chapter 1: A Light in the Forest

--

The tic-tock of an unrelenting clock merged with the echoing sound of a bright red pen tapping the top of a cheaply made desk. It was a harmonious convergence of sounds that Scott Fuller had heard many times in recent days, made worse by what always came next.

Baleful green eyes gazed at him from behind trendy black glasses. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think you are right for our company.”

“Oh?” asked Scott, without any elaboration. He did not need to ask. He knew that look.

“Well, for starters you showed up with blue hair.” said the woman snidely.

“This is my natural hair color.” replied Scott for what must have been the hundredth time that year. He had given up trying to shave his head, or dye his hair. After the sudden shift in color during his last tour of duty in the army, his relatively unimpressive life had turned to absolute shit. He had even been discharged early due to bad conduct. It was impossible to keep his head completely shaven and every time he had shown up for duty with blue stubble he had been forced to deal with the consequences.

Even after it was proven that his hair was in fact blue, he had still been discharged because they could not risk a blue haired soldier standing out. He had assumed it to be an excuse. His shockingly blue eyebrows remained even when the hair on his head and the rest of his face was removed. The worst part was that hair dye did not work. For some reason, the hair was always blue again by the end of the day.

It was an impossible situation, and yet it was his current life. Of course, even something as simple as blue hair was not enough to toss someone out of the army if they had done no wrong. At least, not when it was determined to be his natural state. No, the bad conduct discharge had come for a related but different reason.

“Right, of course it is.” said Ms. Trendy Glasses. The smirk on her lips would have been noticeable even if he had not seen it. Her voice was laced with condescension.

“If your decision has been made then I will be on my way,” said Scott. He did not want to waste his time any further. People like this were useless and a pain in the ass to deal with most of the time.

She granted him a professional smile then inclined her head. “Of course. Thank you for applying.”

Scott turned and left the room, but before the door finished closing he heard her mutter, “Blue haired freak.”

He closed his eyes, took a breath, and let it go. He had heard that a lot. He lived in a rural town, near a small city. People with unnatural hair colors were not common. Anyone who would dye their hair like that was a freak and might possibly worship the devil. On more than one occasion he had walked past people in the supermarket only to have mothers pull their small children aside, or to have a cashier burst into laughter when he went to make a purchase.

Scott reached up and grabbed a lock of his hair. He smiled slightly. Even though it had caused him so much trouble over the course of the last year of his life, he was glad for it. Something about it allowed him to feel a sense of peace that he had not had in as long as he could remember. It was the only thing about him that felt right, as strange as that might seem.

Night had fallen before he made it to the edge of town. The interview with Ms. Trendy

Glasses had been the last one for the day. Yet again, he had failed to acquire employment. His hair was one of the usual culprits, but the biggest problem was his military discharge. He did not have a car, and the nearest town in the area that he had not already canvassed heavily was over twenty miles away.

Uncertain of his future, he plodded slowly toward his home six miles outside of town. The last of the street lights came into view, though it was broken. Some random drunken idiot had smashed into it a few weeks earlier, and the town had opted not to repair it since it was not absolutely necessary.

Scott walked to that streetlight then gently placed his hand against the cool metal. It had become something of a ritual. Whenever he walked out of town he would stop and pat the pole. “Hello old friend. I hope you are well today.”

In many ways, he and that pole shared a lot in common. Forgotten relics disregarded by society, they had both been deemed as something unnecessary, but no one would even spare the expense to put them out of their misery.

After his one-sided conversation with his good friend, the street light, he moved on. He wanted to get home before it was too late. The country back road that he lived on were dark at night. Even his flash light provided little illumination.

While he walked, he thought of his life and many of the oddities that surrounded it. A foundling, he had been raised as an orphan. There was no indication of who his parents were and no method of locating them. He was literally discovered in a basket just outside of Grant Memorial Hospital.

His early life had been a jumble of faces that he could not remember. His first true memories were of sitting alone at the Cherrywood Orphanage, looking up at the moon. The moon had always been an important point of reference for him and he did not know why. No matter how out of place he felt, one look at the moon would soothe his nerves and calm his disquiet spirit.

Once he had grown old enough to actually hold onto his memories, no one had tried to adopt him. He had been told that several families wanted him when he was a baby, but each of them had returned him to the orphanage in less than one month. He never knew why, but he had often heard the same thing. He was not right. How could an innocent baby not be right? He had often asked himself that question. Yet, he had never been granted an answer.

Thoughts of the moon caused him to stop and then to look up at the sky. The moon above was bright in its fullness. A so-called super moon it was at its closest point in its orbit to Earth and was larger than ever before. Of course, the larger size was only a slight thing. It was barely noticeable to him. Still, he did feel better when he gazed up at it. The moon, a nightly visitor that shined on all people equally. It was the only thing in his existence that had been truly constant and had always accepted him.

“You show me a different face every night, and sometimes no face at all. Yet…” Scott took a breath then closed his eyes for a moment. It was stupid to talk to the moon like it was really his friend. The same was true of the street light. He had no friends, no family. Even the people he had fought beside in the army did not ever get in touch with him. His entire existence could be summed up by the events that occurred right at that moment. He was alone on a dark and winding road, his sole companion the moon above.

Honestly, he was tired of it. Hot tears began to form at the edges of his eyes. Soon, they slid down his cheeks. He did not sob or release any sort of sound save for the short intake of breath. Instead, his hand slipped down into his pocket and he tightly gripped the thing that he found there.

Scott squeezed it gently in his hand for a moment then said, “Just once.” His eyes opened slightly. “Just once in my life, I want to matter, to belong somewhere.”

He looked up at the moon and asked, “Is that really such a terrible thing?”

The moon, just as it always did, continued to shine down impassively without a hint of care or concern. Her beautiful light was for everyone equally, and not just for sad people who had no place in the world.

For the first time in his life, he became angry at the moon. Brighter than he could remember ever seeing it, yet it did not give him even a hint of solace.

“Answer me.” said Scott softly.

The moon said nothing, and he became angrier in response. “Answer me, dammit! Is it wrong?!”

He tore his hands from his pockets and the precious thing inside was pulled out. It dropped to the ground, flipped end-over-end a few times then rolled to a stop. Scott did not care. He was focused on the moon. “Tell me that there’s a place for me! Tell me that!”

A lifetime of being ignored, of being wrong, had left indelible scars on his heart. The loneliness of having no one and nothing who cared for him despite being adrift in a sea of billions of people was almost too much for him to bear.

Overcome with the release of emotions that he’d held back for many years he fell to his knees on the cold, uncaring, asphalt. He panted heavily but continued to look up at the moon as his tears continued to fall. He was beyond the point where someone might tell him to do things like ‘buck-up’ or to act like a man. Those people no doubt had at least one person in their life who would notice it if they disappeared forever. Scott had no one. Tonight it seemed that not even the moon that he had seen as his only friend since his earliest memories gave a damn about him.

As the tears fell his arms remained limp at his sides. He gazed at the uncaring moon for a moment and then his eyes slowly closed. He whispered the words, “Please. Not you too.”

It seemed that even his only childhood friend had abandoned him. Yet, had his eyes been open at that moment he would have seen a strange shimmering light pulsate from the moon.

He might have seen the first sign that things in his life were about to change irreversibly, for both good and ill.

**

It was midnight in the forest of the ancients near the city of Autumn. A place of magic and wonder, fire flies buzzed around. Luminous fungus and plant-life gave light to the space between the massive trees that had been growing in the area longer than the city had existed. Trees wider than a small house towered above the landscape.

Normally a place of serenity and natural wonder, it was now the sight of brutal conflict. A loud feminine cry pierced the stillness just before a girl crashed into the area. She was blond, nearly naked due to the fact that her clothes were bloodied and heavily torn, and panic laced her voice as she cried out once again before she hurled herself to her feet.

Brilliant dove-white wings flared out behind her, but she had not meant for them to do so. The sudden change in her momentum caused her to stumble. She lost balance and nearly fell.

She was temporarily saved from an embarrassing fall to the earth by a hard strike to her abdomen by a glowing green rod. Her mouth flew open and she made a retching sound before she fell anyway. She panted heavily while using her hands and knees to steady herself.

The glowing rod rose again and fell down with brutal efficiency. It slammed down atop the girl’s head with enough force to kill a normal person. However, she was no normal girl.

Knocked completely to the ground, she was temporarily vulnerable to a series of hard strikes to her head and back. Bruises and ugly welts rose up. Innocent flesh was torn. Yet, she managed to withstand the barrage and rolled away.

“Oh no you don’t!” snapped another feminine voice as the wielder of the rod entered the glowing light emitted by the forest plants. She was decked head-to-toe in green silk, and wore a peaked hat similar to a stereotypical witch. In fact, she was a witch. Her name was Charlene and she was as cruel as she was beautiful.

The winged girl continued to desperately roll away in order to avoid the constant attacks that came at her. She did not have a moment of respite until she rolled up against a fallen log then quickly slid underneath it.

“What? You think this will stop me?” snapped Charlene. She dropped down and started thrusting her rod under the log in an attempt to stab at the girl.

The winged girl had trouble maneuvering due to her wings. She took several hard strikes to her arms and side before she managed to slip far enough away to gain a safe distance.

“Shit! Stupid log!” snapped Charlene before she slammed the rod down atop it. A loud cracking sound echoed through the air immediately after her strike and her eyes widened in shock.

She made a disgusted noise then raised up her weapon. The gem at the top had stopped glowing, and there was a large crack in the shaft. “Not good.”

“What’s wrong, my pet?” asked a masculine voice.

Charlene turned to look at the new arrival then offered him a nervous smile before showing him her cracked rod. “I sort of broke it.”

“Don’t worry about it.” he said.

“Really?” she asked, her eyes grew wide and began to sparkle with emotion.

“Yes, I’ll punish you repeatedly, later. Let’s focus on the task at hand for now.” he said.

“Master…” said the girl, her tone of voice showed both a hint of fear and an undercurrent of excitement. Punishment or pleasure, either way it meant that he would touch her later.

The newcomer strode forward then stopped a few feet short of Charlene. “Go ahead and finish this.”

“Right!” Charlene tossed her rod to the side and then lifted one hand into the air. “In the name of burning passion, and the will of my master, flames of judgment come forth!”

In the air above her hand motes of light began to appear. They swirled around as though caught in some unseen wind for a moment then whirled together and became a coherent sphere of burning energy.

“Burst Sphere!” shouted Charlene before chopping her hand down and hurling the burning sphere toward the log. It hit with incredible force and shook the entire fallen tree. The energy of the sphere spread outward like a luminescent oil and the tree caught fire. Some of it fell to the ground and began to burn there as well.

Smoke rose up from the burning wood and wafted among the trees. Charlene and her master merely waited. It would not be long now.

The winged girl could feel the heat and knew that she had little choice. The explosion had scared her, but the idea of being burned alive was terrifying. She began to wriggle as fast as she could in an attempt to reach the other side of the log. The middle section was the hardest part to navigate, but the light from the fire helped a little.

She managed to slip out from under the log on the other side of a bit of steel-thorn bramble brush that obscured her from the watchful eyes of her tormentors. She tried to quietly get away, but the brush that had obscured her view had also blocked off her path through the trees. She was forced to use the remnants of her shirt to try and make a space to crawl through the brambles without being spotted.

Charlene noticed movement on the other side of the massive burning log then glanced at her master. He smirked in response and then she smiled in a wicked way.

Cerene, the angel, did her best to hide her movements while protecting her body, but the thorns still tore into her. She was resistant to casual damage from such a common thing to some degree, but the steel-thorn brambles of the ancient forest were known to be able to pierce even well-constructed body armor.

Bleeding lightly from dozens of minor wounds, she crawled through the brambles then slipped forward among the brush. A quick glance back revealed that many of her feathers had been left behind. The plant-life had claimed trophies and dozens of pure-white feathers now lined her passage.

Shirtless, covered in blood and dirt, she rose to her knees then clambered forward and around the side of a nearby tree. She panted slightly for a moment in order to steady her nerves. This was her best chance to get away! She had to be ready to move.

“Wow, I wonder if she’s burning yet?” called out Charlene’s voice mockingly.

“Well, she couldn’t get away even if she got out. She can’t fly with your curse on her.” said her master in an overly loud and obnoxious tone.

Cerene clutched her hands to her chest for a moment then smiled briefly. They didn’t know, yet. There was a chance! The winged girl folded her wings as tightly as she could with the curse on her and started forward again. If she used the trees for cover, she might be able to get away. If she was lucky the curse would even wear off and she could escape.

She crawled around the trunks of two trees on her hands and knees, and started to feel a bit of hope. That hope was destroyed by the sudden pain in her left wing followed by a hard punch to the back of her head.

“Dumb bitch. You actually thought you’d get away?” asked Charlene before she punched Cerene in the back of the head again.

“How! I heard you talking.” asked Cerene after the second strike.

Charlene laughed cruelly and then grabbed the girl’s platinum blond hair and pulled her head back. She forced Cerene to look into her eyes. She started to speak but no words came from her lips. However, her voice could be heard back on the other side of the burning log. “Such a fucking idiot.”

“You should just go ahead and give in before you make her mad.” said Charlene’s master. Cerene looked over to see him leaning casually against a tree.

“No…” whispered Cerene.

Charlene slapped her hard across the face then laughed when the blond girl began to sob quietly. “You’re only hurting yourself. No one gives a fuck about a stray like you.”

“No.” said Cerene once more, her voice stronger this time.

Another slap to the face did not cause the girl to relent, but it did cause her to lash out in an attempt to strike at her tormentor. The moment Cerene’s fist made contact with Charlene’s abdomen, a powerful magical current arced through her. The blond girl screamed in agony and fell to the ground while pain lanced through her body.

“Man you’re dumb!” Charlene lifted her hand to her mouth and laughed cruelly. “You know you can’t fight back.”

A small puddle of urine formed between Cerene’s thighs due to the sudden onset of pain. She twitched spastically for a moment then curled into a ball.

“Oh, poor little thing. I think she’s ready, master.” said Charlene in a light tone of voice.

Henry smiled casually then slipped forward. “So soon? She was easy.”

He stopped at Cerene’s head and loomed over her fetal form. “You led us on a merry chase my angel, but there was never any chance of escape. You can’t fight Charlene.”

“No…” whispered Cerene weakly.

Henry placed a hand to his ear and made a listening gesture. “Was that a yes that I heard?”

He reached down and grabbed her by her hair. He dragged her up from the ground a little then said, “You’ll learn that no is not a word that you’ll be allowed to use.”

Charlene smiled darkly as her master began to instruct his newest capture. It always made her feel a slight tingle when she watched her master break in a new pet.

“No…” whispered Cerene, but she slowly mouthed something else that could not be heard.

“What was that? Yes, what?” asked Henry with a smirk.

Cerene’s fist shot forward and solidly connected with his groin. The sound of a heavy impact was followed by a girlish scream that echoed through the forest. Henry dropped to the ground and clutched at his injured pride.

“You bitch!” snarled Charlene. She lunged forward to try and attack the angel, but the winged girl jumped up at just the right time to put the witch off balance. Charlene fell atop her master and he cried out again.

The witch apologized repeatedly to her master, while they tried to disentangle themselves. Cerene took the chance to try and make her escape.

“Get off of me you useless slut!” screamed Henry.

“Master!” croaked Charlene. He was mad. That was his mad voice. She knew it well.

“You told me she was bound against attacking you.” snapped Henry.

Charlene winced. “Well, she was bound against attacking me as you asked.”

He stopped struggling and stared at her, hard. “Useless. You bound her against attacking you, but left me vulnerable?”

“Brother, I’m so-” began Charlene, but a hard slap across her face stopped her.

“Don’t you ever call me that, you slut.”

“But-!” Charlene cried out.

Henry whipped the back of his hand across her face once more. “My sister died three months ago. You’re just the whore that was left behind. A dog in heat, nothing more.”

Charlene clutched her face and began to sob. Another slap echoed through the clearing and she cried out again.

“Stop that crying you useless bitch. Go catch her, or I’ll sell you to a dockyard brothel.” snapped Henry.

“Y-yes, of course bro- master.” said Charlene. She bit down gently on her lower lip and fought back her tears. Her face stung terribly, but it was nothing compared to the pain he had inflicted with his rebuke. Of course he was right, she was not his sister anymore. She was just his property.

Charlene rose to her feet, took a deep breath, then turned and ran off toward the fleeing angel. The stray would pay for causing so many problems.

Henry collected himself then rose up to follow. He took his time. The angel could not get far in her condition. Charlene would not disappoint him again. “Just a minor setback.” He said lightly before unleashing a seemingly warm and friendly smile.

Cerene was having a hard time trying to run through the darkness of the forest. Her wings would occasionally snag on a vine or bramble. She was barefoot as well. While her feet were far tougher than those of a mere human, that fact did not save them from taking numerous cuts and scratches from the occasional thorn or other unseen danger.

She staggered out of the dense wood and into an open clearing between the trees. The moon, full and bright, was revealed in the opening of the forest canopy above. Light streamed down to illuminate the area far more than the rest of the dark and foreboding wood.

The angel staggered through the grass. She was exhausted from the constant flight through the woods and the wounds that she had received. Despite her exhaustion she was nearly to the other side of the clearing before she heard two words that made her want to cry out fearfully.

“Burst Sphere!”

The angel saw the sphere of burning energy pass by in a narrow miss. Instinctively, she threw her arms over her face to cover her eyes. The explosion that rocked the area sent dirt, debris, and Cerene flying. She screamed as she flew, and landed with a loud cry of pain that

coincided with a sickening snapping sound. Her left wing now rested at an odd angle beneath her, broken in the fall.

“Close enough, I suppose.” said Charlene confidently. She placed her hands on her waist then cocked her hip to the side provocatively. The witch tilted her hat down slightly then smirked before she started forward to claim her master’s new prize.

Charlene was greatly surprised when she saw her prey begin to move. The angel rolled over and started to claw feebly at the ground in an attempt to drag herself away. The witch’s smile grew wide at the sight. This night just got better and better. “Oh, and where do you think you’re going?”

“Please.” said Cerene. She struggled to move forward. She felt as though she had nothing left. It was all that she could do at the moment just to keep moving forward. “Someone!”

The witch tilted her head to the side then snorted. “Begging won’t help, you know.”

“Someone please.” whimpered Cerene.

“No. Let her beg. She should get used to it.” said Henry as he strolled into the clearing.

“Of course, master.” said Charlene, a pretty smile on her lips.

Charlene and Henry watched idly as Cerene crawled toward the edge of the clearing. Each movement forward seemed to take longer. She moved in fits and starts amid feeble cries and pleas for help.

Henry walked over and whispered something into Charlene’s ear. The witch laughed softly then nodded.

Just as Cerene actually reached the edge of the clearing, Charlene moved swiftly over and grasped her by the ankles.

The angel cried out in horror and clawed feebly at the ground as the witch dragged her back to the center of the area. Charlene quickly moved away and left Cerene to lie not far from where she had started.”

Cerene started to sob even as she tried to get away again. “Please…” she whimpered.

“She’s begging again. This is just pathetic.” said Charlene.

“Now, now. No need to be cruel. Let her practice begging now so that she’ll be better at it later.” said Henry.

Around Cerene’s neck a small pendant began to shine intermittently. No one noticed it due to how she crawled upon the ground. With every whimpered plea for help it unleashed another quick burst of illumination. “Please, someone.”

“No one’s going to hear you out here.” said Charlene. “No one would give a damn about a stray even if they did.”

They watched as Cerene struggled to reach the edge of the clearing once more. When she came close, Henry nodded. Charlene ran forward and dragged the girl back to the center again.

Cerene screamed out in despair. There was nothing that she could do. Cursed against using her wings to fly or even to fight directly against her tormentor, she was in a hopeless situation. All she could do was cry out for help and hope for a miracle.

“Someone help me! Please.” she cried desperately.

Charlene grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back. “Just stop. No one gives a damn about a slut like you.”

“I said it was fine, Charlene.” said Henry. “Let her cry. The sound is soothing to my injured manhood.”

Cerene tried to push Charlene away, but the moment she did so she was assaulted by crackling energy and pain lanced through her body. She screamed in agony once more and collapsed.

The witch laughed warmly then made a circle with her left index finger. “We keep going round and round on this. You can’t fight, can’t get away, and no one is going to help you. Just give up.”

“No…” whispered Cerene. “No.”

Charlene snorted loudly then turned to look back at her master. Henry made a gesture and motes of light began to form in front of him. Those motes of light coalesced into a thick black collar with a gleaming platinum ring that hung down at the front.

The collar was casually tossed through the air, and the witch caught it easily. “Time to end this, eh?”

The witch began to force the collar around Cerene’s neck, but the angel struggled as hard as she could to prevent it.

“No! Not like this, not this!” cried Cerene as she desperately fended off her tormentor with her remaining strength.

Charlene whipped her hand down to strike Cerene across the face. This was becoming tiresome. “Just stop. The more you fight, the worse it will be for you.”

“Please! Someone help me!” cried out Cerene as the witch finally got a proper hold and snapped the collar around the angel’s neck.

“Master, its ready.” said the witch.

“No, please!” screamed Cerene.

Henry smiled then started toward the fallen girl. As far as he was concerned, the battle was over. “Go ahead, beg. I love it when they beg.”

She cried out in despair once more and the pendant around her neck began to flicker and then to shimmer, soon it gave off a steady light. Unknown to anyone in that clearing, the moon above began to glow with brighter as well.

**

A sigh echoed through the area as Scott turned off his flash light. “Home, sweet home.”

After he had gotten ahold of himself, he had picked up his pocket treasure and headed home. It was not a common thing, screaming at the moon. Yet, telling it his problems often helped him deal with the crushing loneliness of being surrounded by people but having no one hold any true concern for him in their hearts.

Until the events of the last year had come to pass he had been more open and friendly toward others, some might have even referenced him as a bit of a goofball. Despite his generally friendly demeanor, he had no real links with this world. He had a few acquaintances but no one that he might call a true friend. He was not even certain what real friendship was, or if it actually existed outside of television and novels. Even his stint in the military had failed to produce the band of brothers effect that he had hoped to achieve.

For the longest time, he believed that he was the problem. Somehow, he was defective. There had to be something wrong with him, as even the most disgusting of human beings could manage to have friends. At this point he would have even settled for a pet that did not run away from home. Dogs, cats, his hamster named Phil, they had all run away as soon as they could do so.

In many ways, it was like the world itself had rejected him as something foreign and undesired. Even those who had spent time with him in the past never seemed interested in spending that much time with him.

He heard a rustling sound near the corner of his front porch. Scott went to check on the origin of the sound and smiled at what he found. It was the stray cat that he had been leaving food out for over the last few weeks. They had never met formally, but he had seen her from a distance on occasion.

“Well, hey there.” he said, a friendly smile on his lips.

The cat looked up at him in surprise then relaxed and started to purr. Scott’s smile widened slightly. He well understood what it was like to be alone in the world, no one to care for him. Hopefully he had made this cat’s life a little easier with his kindness.

The warm and much needed interaction ended quickly when the cat tilted her head to the side. She looked at Scott curiously for a moment then her ears flattened back and she unleashed a hellish noise. She arched her back and slowly moved away from him, like he was some sort of hideous predatory beast come to devour her.

“Kitty?” asked Scott in confusion. What was wrong with it? Was it rabid?

The cat hissed at him then ran away, the food abandoned in the process. She wanted nothing more than to be away from his presence.

“Seriously?” asked Scott. What the hell was that about? Even a homeless half-starved cat did not want anything to do with him. He was not that surprised, most animals shied away from him. Still, he had not needed to be abandoned like that tonight of all nights.

Scott reached into his pocket and idly gripped his treasure. It was the one thing in his life that gave him a sense of peace, of solace in a troubled world that cared nothing for him.

He was lost in thought for a moment, so he did not initially hear the voice that cried out weakly in the darkness. However, upon the second instance of that cry he looked up toward the forest. “What is...?”

“Please.” sobbed a terrified female voice.

Scott immediately turned on his flash light and pointed it toward the woods. “Who’s out there?!”

“Someone!” called the female voice once more.

“Someone’s out there?” he asked redundantly. His eyebrows pressed toward each other in confusion. Who answers like that?

“Someone please!” cried the voice loudly.

Scott ran toward the woods as quickly as he could. He did not know what was going on, but he intended to find out.

His flashlight slashed through the darkness and revealed roots that would have tripped him, and brambles that would have torn at his flesh. Even so, it would have been easy to become lost in the woods. Whenever the voice cried out, he reoriented himself and kept going. That was the only way forward, follow the voice.

Soon, he saw a strange light in the distance. He thought it to be a bonfire for a moment, but it was too uniform in its luminescence. It shimmered but it did not flicker like a flame. As he came closer he began to slow his approach. What was that strange light?

“Someone help me! Please.” cried the terrified woman from the same direction as the light.

Scott stopped briefly. But another voice cut through the night air, feminine but cruel. “Just stop. No one gives a damn about a slut like you.”

His eyes widened briefly and then narrowed. He started forward again, anger rising up within him. He did not know what was going on, but if someone was being attacked in the woods near his house he wanted to know about it.

“I said it was fine, Charlene.” Spoke a smug masculine voice. “Let her cry. The sound is soothing to my injured manhood.”

Scott blinked. His body moved forward at an accelerated pace even before he had finished processing the words that he had just heard.

Scott ran through the forest, somehow avoiding the roots and brambles in the process. The voices both desperate and cruel continued to speak. He came upon a clearing and he saw a strange scene. There was a shimmering wall of light separating him from three people. One was lying on the ground crying. She was the most surprising as she seemed to have wings growing from her back. Another woman, one without wings, stood over her. The third person was at a distance, a cruel smile on his lips.

Despite the darkness of night, he saw everything clearly. He started to ask what was happening, but then he saw the smiling man throw something to the other woman. The woman said something that Scott did not quite make out, but then she started to force the collar in her hand around the neck of the woman on the ground.

“No! Not Like this, not this!” cried the winged woman.

His hands curled into fists. With a shout he ran forward, weird light or not, this could not be allowed. With a guttural roar he ran into the clearing. He did not notice the shimmering effect that overtook him. Did not feel the way the very air around him seemed to shift. All he knew was that he needed to stop what he saw happening.

Things seemed to move in slow motion for a moment as he cleared the space between himself and the closest person, the man who even now walked toward the downed girl. He had moved into a charging tackle before the man noticed his presence.

“Wha-?” asked Henry in surprise as Scott appeared out of nowhere and slammed into him heavily. They went to the ground hard.

Henry cried out in panic as Scott crawled over top of him and got into a position that allowed him to beat the smug man mercilessly. The former soldier repeatedly struck at the man’s neck and face with every bit of strength that he could muster.

“Master!” shrieked Charlene before she released the angel.

“Burn the bastard!” snarled Henry as he got his bearings and began to struggle with Scott.

Charlene chanted her spell as quickly as she could. Just as she was about to fire off her [Burst Sphere] Cerene launched her feet outward and solidly connected with the back of the witch’s legs. Charlene fell to the ground and her magical attack was sent flying far off the mark in the process.

The angel began to spasm wildly as pain lanced through her body. However, she did not care. Someone had heard her and had come to help! What was pain compared to a chance to survive and be free?

Scott was oblivious to the interaction nearby as he was totally focused on the guy beneath him. He got a grip on the man’s head and slammed it down on the ground a few times. The bastard was strangely resilient, as far as the furious soldier was concerned. Who managed to stay coherent after so many furious blows to the head?

Henry began to gasp out a series of nonsense words. They sounded like English, but who made up a rhyme about the wind when they were getting their ass kicked?

It was Scott’s turn to be surprised when the guy he had been beating the snot out of flared with a bright yellow light. He was sent flying back by some unseen force and went hurtling through the air to slam into a tree several feet away.

“You stupid fuck. Who told you to get involved?” asked Henry as he rose to his feet. Despite the beating he had taken, he seemed relatively uninjured.

“Master! You’re alright.” called out Charlene from the ground.

“No thanks to you. Put that bitch in her place while I finish with our new friend here.” said Henry.

Scott panted heavily and slowly rose to his feet. Whatever had happened had been brutal. It was hard to catch his breath.

“So, what did you think would happen here?” asked Henry before he made a gesture with his hand.

Scott felt a sudden lashing wave of force whip against his body. A large gash was tore across his chest not long after.

“What the hell is this?” asked Scott through clenched teeth. How was this asshole doing this to him?

“Just business. But somehow you think my business is something to get into.” said Henry. Scott tried to move forward, but the man made another gesture and he was sent flying back once more. Another deep gash appeared on his chest just a little above the first one.

Cerene shouted, “Stop it!”

Henry glanced at her then snorted. “Stop it? This was your doing, you silly bitch. You cried out for a hero, and look.” He made another gesture that pressed Scott back against the tree again. “He came for you.”

Scott slid to his knees and shook his head. It was hard to breathe, hard to do anything. Still, he managed to croak out, “Let her go.”

Cerene looked to him in surprise. Despite the attacks he had received, he was still concerned for her? He did not even know her. Did he? It was hard to tell from this angle.

“Pardon me. Did you just tell me to do something like you were somehow worth a fuck?” asked Henry, before he made several hard sweeping hand gestures in a row.

Scott felt like he was being beaten to death by an invisible baseball bat. He could not even scream as the air in his lungs had been driven out. He fell to the earth gasping desperately when Henry finally relented.

“Damn, not dead?” He made a tsking noise then sighed dramatically. “I’m out of mana, too? Pity.”

Henry waved his hand in the air before him, and then gripped something unseen. He pulled his hand to the side and drew a gleaming broadsword from out of the air. “I know I called you a hero, but come on. We both know you’re just some pathetic loser with a hard-on for playing savior to crying girls. I get it man. I love the sound of a sad girl just as much as the next guy.”

The man paused for a moment, seemed to consider something then spoke in a magnanimous manner. “Never let it be said that I am not cordial to the weak and pathetic. “You’re what? Level one? Level two at best? I’ll give you a chance to walk away. Killing humans always ends with lots of paperwork and I really can’t be bothered.”

Scott wheezed out. “Who’s pa-pathetic?” before he struggled to reach his feet once more. He stumbled twice before managing to perform that heroic feat.

Henry released a languid sigh then pointed the tip of his blade toward Scott. “Do I really need to say it? You should have stayed out of my business.”

The swordsman lunged forward at a surprising speed. Scott tried to dodge the strike but he was too tired, too beaten, to do so completely. The blade pierced between his bottom ribs on the right side, and the force of the strike continued as Henry pressed him back against the tree.

Scott screamed in agony as bright red blood began to seep around the blade. Henry laughed coldly then whispered into his ear. “I lied. I love killing pretty boy idiots like you. If you spent more time training and less time doing your hair, you might have lived.”

It was more instinct than informed decision that determined what happened next. Scott unleashed another, far more primal, scream and bit down on the man’s ear. Henry shrieked loudly as he too began to bleed.

Scott fell forward heavily and took his killer with him. He continued to bite and savage the man’s ear even after the sword was ripped out of his side. Unconcerned with survival, his body had entered a mode of existence that no longer gave a damn about personal safety.

Henry beat at him with the pommel of his blade, but could not manage to get in a good strike, or at least one that his enraged opponent might actually feel. Scott’s fingers found the man’s eyes and he dug at them like a feral animal. They were surprisingly resilient to damage but they gave in quickly all the same.

Henry shrieked then roared out a word that caused his body to begin flaring with yellow light once more. His pain was fueling his power. It quickly restored some of his mana for a last desperate move, though Scott did not know it.

“Master!” screamed Charlene. The entire fight had turned at a moment’s notice.

However, during the animalistic attack Scott’s roving hands happened upon the large rock that had been unearthed during Henry’s earlier magical tirade. Instinctively, his hands wrapped around it. Just before Henry finished recharging his power, Scott reared back and slammed the rock down with all the energy that his battered body could muster.

Henry screamed when the first blow struck his face. He gurgled loudly when the second strike seemed to break through whatever unholy thing was keeping him from being severely injured by normal attacks and shattered his nose. He whimpered like a whipped dog when the third blow fell, and then was silent after the fourth strike.

Charlene’s next shout caught Scott’s attention since his current opponent had stopped moving. He looked up just in time to see another one of her burning spheres of energy racing toward him through the air. He did not have the time or energy to dodge, and Cerene was not close enough to the witch to help him again.

Scott threw his arms in front of his face then cried out in both shock and extreme pain as the sphere burst against his chest. He was thrown back with incredible force and the energy of the attack began to slide along his flesh even as it set him ablaze.

Flames erupted upward as he burned. Scott feebly tried to roll around to extinguish the fire, but that merely spread the blaze.

Charlene laughed cruelly for a moment then frowned. "Why isn't he dead? He should be dead."

An enraged shout caught her attention and she turned in time to see something she had not expected. The angel that she had beaten into submission had begun to glow with the light of an awesome power.

Cerene gasped loudly, her chest heaved up and down. Her one good wing flared outward and she leveled a deadly glare upon her tormentor.

Charlene took an involuntary step back, but recovered her composure. "Glare all you want you pathetic slut. Your savior is dead, and you can't fight me."

A beautiful smirk arose upon the angel's soft pink lips. Blood trickled down from where they had been split earlier. She stretched out her hand and motes of light began to form before her palm.

Desperate laughter split the air as Charlene followed suit and began to form her Burst Sphere spell once more. However, the angel was faster and far more desperate. Cerene cried out in a strong voice, "Celestial Strike!"

The motes of light became a brilliantly shining blade that raced outward from the palm of her hand. Charlene's eyes went wide, but then they narrowed and she laughed once more. "You missed you stupid, slut!"

"Did I?" asked Cerene. A loud cracking noise echoed through the area.

Charlene gasped then looked upward just in time to see a massive tree limb fall to the earth. She managed to avoid it for the most part, but an errant branch tore a large gash down her chest and tore open her shirt. Her breasts bled heavily as they were exposed to the night air.

Motes of light began to form before Cerene's hand once more. They were weaker, less luminous, this time but Charlene did not realize it. She had become shocked and desperate.

The witch leapt backward then raced over to her master's fallen body. She gripped him tight with one hand then raised the other and shouted two words, "Emergency Teleport!"

Bright blue light flared from the sapphire ring that she wore upon her hand. That light engulfed the witch and her master. Both Charlene and her fallen master shimmered brightly then faded from sight a moment later. They had left the battle, and the forest, behind.

Hot tears poured from Cerene's eyes as she realized what had happened. She had somehow survived, had remained free. The weak cries of her savior caught her attention and she moved as quickly as she could to reach his side.

The flames had long since burnt out, somehow. What was left behind was badly charred meat that struggled feebly to live.

Light shimmered in Cerene's eyes as she gazed down at the ruination that had befallen the one who had come for her. "This... You have been hurt so badly, and solely for my sake."

His breath labored, the terribly injured man barely managed to croak out the words, "You... Ok."

A heart-breaking sob escaped her beautiful lips, and a painful ache arose within her chest. Despite his terrible wounds he still thought of her. Yet, she had no idea who he was, or why he would go to such lengths for her.

"Yes, I am well." She gingerly reached down and clasped his left hand, the only unburned spot she could readily find above the waist. "Thank you!"

Tears welled along the rims of his eyes. "G-good." he croaked.

She reached up and touched her lips. They trembled softly and she acquired an expression of anguish and growing despair. Her eyebrows pressed toward each other and her nostrils flared slightly. Timidly, she reached out and lightly stroked his hair. She did not know what to do to comfort him.

It was then that an idea occurred to her. She placed her hand to the ringed collar that had been forced upon her. "With this..."

Cerene bit her lip a little and tasted her blood in her mouth. She did not know him, but she knew of no man like him. She took his hand and pressed his fingers to the ring that dangled from her collar.

Softly, the angel with a broken wing leaned forward and kissed him upon the burnt ruin that was his lips. "In love, and in trust, I freely give myself to you. Please, my chosen master. Do you accept me?"

Scott was barely conscious, but at her prompting he croaked out. "Yes..."

The ring flared brilliantly with a warm and soothing light. Both Scott and Cerene began to glow brightly as well. Their wounds faded slightly as they shared a profound mystical connection that bridged the gap between their natures. Where once there had been two desperate people, there was now a new and fragile union formed.

Cerene slipped down beside her new master, her chosen one, and wrapped her arms around his badly burnt body. She kissed him gently upon the cheek and a soft blue energy radiated outward from where the sweet blow had struck him. The flesh upon his face shimmered and slowly began to heal.

She smiled gently then kissed him upon the brow, and then sweetly upon his nose. Wherever she kissed him his wounds lessened slightly. His vitality slowly returned, and he slowly rose from his descent toward a slow painful death.

The angel gently traced her fingers through Scott's hair and watched as her newly awakened power, one that only worked once she formed a bond of trust with a worthy master, worked its magic. That power was a direct manifestation of the love that she held within her heart. The stronger their bond became, and the more he supported her, the more powerful her [Angel's Sweet Blessing] would become.

"

For you who have heard my prayers and come to my aid, I will do my best." said Cerene gently before she cuddled closely with her badly injured master. Simply being close to him had a healing effect upon her own body as well. This closeness, this tender embrace, it was capable of soothing even the most embattled of hearts and battered of limbs.

The long night passed in stillness, and a quiet intimacy. Her split lip became whole. Her bruises and cuts faded away as though they had never existed. After several hours had passed, even her broken wing had been restored to the point that it could be flexed.

Whenever her mana reached a point that she could properly utilize her power, she gently kissed her master upon the worst of his wounds. The terrible burns faded over time. His intake of breath became steady, and his heart beat became strong. Scott slept in Cerene's arms throughout the night and through her sweet and tender mercy, he survived till the coming of the dawn. It was the dawn of a new day in a world similar to, but far different than the one he had always known.