From the prompt: "Seeing beyond what is there..."
"Him"
“Lance! Lance, get down!”
Tobias let loose a burst of rounds, barely blinking when a stray bullet clipped him in the shoulder. He hardly saw any faces as he blasted them down, the eye of the storm in the center of whirling chaos. They’d been negotiating from either side of the no-man’s land, and a gun had suddenly gone off. Next thing Sector Five knew, everyone was shooting everyone else, blood spraying, bodies falling. Throw a civilian into the mix.
Tobias clutched the rifle grimly, ignoring the violent recoil. He had video proof of Hagalaz firing the first shot. Now, if he could get the slimy Viking scumball (enter expletives from various archaic languages) it would really help. Lance was standing there in the middle of the battlefield, face drained of all color, gaze transfixed on some invisible terror.
“Lance, get down!” Tobias screamed. He whirled and swung the gun up, taking down a shock trooper.
The young man was still standing there, staring, oblivious as death wielded its mighty blade.
(Tobias, get him off of the field and into a secure zone NOW!) Asia ordered.
(Commander, I’m under heavy fire from shock troops, and the civilian is not responding to me,) he answered tersely. (It’s all I can to do keep him alive.) Tobias fought off the shock troops. They avoided hitting Lance, firing on semi-auto; they only wanted Tobias.
“Lance, man, you gotta get out of here,” Tobias hissed, squeezing the trigger. A woman went down. “Lance, can you hear me?”
The reply was soft, but the only thing Tobias heard over the gunfire.
“He’s looking at you.”
Tobias paused. “What?” Ow. Another bullet in the shoulder. He squeezed the trigger in annoyance, heard another scream. Lance was still staring, lips moving silently.
Lance was terrified. He could see it, he could see it! Why couldn’t Tobias at least sense it?
“I shot him, sir, I hit him. See how he bleeds?” a woman was protesting. “I shot Sector Five Intelligence, but he does not die!”
Not true, Lance thought. The man in the white robe stood in the middle of the field, the battle raging around him but never touching him. And he was watching Tobias with laser-intense eyes, strange pale eyes that shifted color in the changing light.
He stood forwards, moving out of one eye of the storm and to the other. Lance was frozen, numb to the world of bullet whizzing by him, as the man approached.
Tobias was a dark Boticelli angel that had fallen, perfectly-carved face calm and splashed with blood, spreading destruction, wings torn from his back.
Lance cried out as the man in the white robe leapt at Tobias from behind, claws suddenly extending. The man raked down on Tobias’s head.
Tobias cried out, echoed by Lance.
Tobias hit the group, gasping, blood gushing from his forehead. Lance dropped to his knees beside him, thrown back into reality. Tobias heaved himself up and rolled onto his back, staring. He saw the man now.
“Who are you?” Tobias whispered, eyes wide.
The man shrugged, and the robe slipped off his left shoulder, revealing seven cuts, one of which was bleeding.
Lance rocked back, repulsed by what he saw. Tobias rolled over, blood dripping down his face.
“Who are you? Get away from me!”
The man lifted his claws and slashed again. Crimson blood sprayed.
Tobias sank back, lifeless.
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© Agent Duo 2004