The WeatherMan

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Very Short Stories


For my blog, I thought it be fitting to make it about writing. On here, I will post short stories, less than 2000 words, which could be about anything that I felt like writing about. Feel free to read them. The first one is about Gambler and Final Arrow, thought I'd make it a bit special by having two characters that we know in it.    
 
   Their swords clashed like lightning, if lightning was made out of metal. It was raining on top of the Order of Sancta Camisia’s headquarters, the bleak clouds moving low over the rooftops of the town, the moon like an eager peeping tom, trying to see the magnificent bout in-between the curtains of clouds. The rain fell down briskly and quickly, as if trying to match the intensity of the sword bout. To the inhabitants of the town, their clashes would sound nothing more than the booming thunder to accompany the rain and everyone who knew the real truth was already dead.

   They had not said a word for the past hour, dueling without a sign of fatigue or repentance in their eyes. The man that was known as Final Arrow had a crimson sword in his hands, his most formidable weapon. He moved its heavy weight as if it was a mere feather. He was wearing a black overcoat that fluttered behind him gracefully, almost majestically, despite the numerous blood stains sprayed across it. A mask was drawn across his face with horrifying demonic image with suppressed red color pouring out from the places where his eyes would have been. The entire attire was meant to inspire great fear in the minds of his enemies, and it never failed to do so, except to the man he was facing now.

   Gambler’s physical prowess matched his opponent perfectly. His usual battle uniform also with dabbles of blood, covered over by a brown trench coat, was being filled with pouring sweat as he continued to keep up with the demonic man in front of him. His sword was less heavy than Final Arrow's and no less durable, forged from the greatest metals and strengthened by sacred magical rituals. A hint of utter disgust was drawn across his face, but he hid it well, focusing completely on the battle at hand.

   Their complete mastery of combat was displayed at its very peak as they simply circled one another on the rooftop, not giving the other an inch of distance in retreat. For every feint, the other would make a counter, for every surgical strike, the other would produce a perfect block. To an untrained eye it looked as if the two combatants were dancing to music only audible to them, circling each other continuously. Their swords were moving much too quickly for an untrained eye to notice anything but sliver of silver and crimson making slight whistling noises as they intertwined around each other. Each time their swords met, a shower of sparks would emerge, spraying wildly in all directions. The roof tiles had been long gone from the power that surged between them.

   “Why? Why dee hell did you do dhis, mon ami?” Gambler finally broke down and spoke after a powerful strike pushed them both backwards. He kept his sword up, but his face had a deep line of lament on it.
   “Ugh… Gh… Arrow isn’t in right now, but you can speak to him directly when I send you to hell!” Arrow twitched strangely, but not without keeping his sword up also, before replying in an unfathomably gruff and devilish voice.
   “Let me talk to him!” Gambler’s newfound rage sprained extra strength into his sword as it clashed against the swaying blade of his opponent. The adrenaline pumped even harder as Gambler continued his assault, every clash of swords making him angrier, pushing his abilities through the roof of his limit. Arrow’s defense continued to be impeccable, although he was slightly taken aback by the newfound might of the blows, not noticing three aces that flew at his chest, glowing bright pink as they made a powerful explosion.
   Arrow was knocked off his feet and the entire roof of the building collapsed. Gambler leaped over the smocking hole in the roof and landed next to the mess of cloaks that now lay in front of him. Arrow’s demonic mask was lying on top of the pile, also seemingly unoccupied. Suddenly, it was as if the cloaks became a liquid as multiple ripples became to spread across it until they finally parted, revealing a naked man crouched in its midst. The liquid black cloaks continued to revolve around him, covering up almost all of Arrow but his face.
   “I’m sorry, old friend… I thought I could control it, I thought this was for the better… Such power!” The man he saw before him was indeed Arrow without any parts of his otherworldly inhabitant. His tone of voice had an enormous amount of remorse, but it also sounded absolutely lost in its grief. He did not dare to even look up at Gambler as he talked.
   “You single handedly murdered every one of the Order of Sancta Camisia, incapacitated dee Weather Man and managed to frame a different hero for a different murder, sending mi on a wild goose chase. We worked for dhis for ages, Arrow. We worked for dee Order to be what it is today. Why would you destroy it?” Gambler’s sadness was only masked by his absolute bewilderment that he hid throughout the entire battle. He looked down at Arrow like at a brother who had misbehaved.
   “This beast… It feasts on my soul but it gave me such power… But it needed more souls for me to sustain it… You know of its power Gambler, you of all the people know how much this demon god had aided our quests…” Arrow finally managed to look up, his shadowy cloak continuously revolving around him like the rings revolve around Saturn. His face was distorted, much older and work out with a great amount of wrinkles. His eyes flashed multiple times with crimson red and his face changed from tearful remorse to insatiable greed, the demonic power unwilling to rest inside him, demanding to be let out, but Arrow held on.
   “I do know, mon ami. I do. But why us? Why dee Order?” Gambler signed sadly, letting his sword rest upon his shoulder, remembering all the times Arrow’s demonic powers would become godlike. Gambler had the bringer of apocalypse for a friend, which felt empowering to the point of arrogance.
   “It wants evil… I tried… to give it good souls but… it wants evil… Souls of those who… ahh… it feeds on it… Oh crap…” Arrow lurched over, holding his stomach in terrible pain that eviscerated his entire body. Suddenly his skin began to bulge and rip, as if something was trying to get out.
   “And that’s why you will make the most delicious platter on tonight’s course! RAAAGHH!” The demon had finally enveloped Final Arrow inside itself completely, rising out from the ground, towering over Gambler like a monstrous skyscraper. Gambler reached out for the deck of cards in his back pocket, smugly brushing the dirt that the monster raised with its power off his shoulder. He picked out four aces from the deck without looking.
   “Sorry mon ami. I don’t think so.”    

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