Rudolff had been so many things to Christopher in the last eighteen years. An uncle, a babysitter, an ex-convict, a home service therapist. And tonight, with a three-foot black hilt sword that seeped blood from its shiny silver lining— he was his knight.
By the way, where had he gotten that—?
"I warned you never to go out at night, didn't I?" Rudolff stared at him with a long face, his eyes unsmiling. But of course, how could Christopher have forgotten the very times his uncle managed to be stern, warning him to stay away from the unnatural world?
Christopher could still recall his very words when he'd emphasized how dangerous the city was at night. And his tales were usually backed up with evidence: mysterious deaths of civilians in Missouri alleyways. Yes, that alone should've kept him behind locked doors, but tonight, two things had filled him out—
His challenge with Tori and his overbuilt faith that he wasn't going to die tonight.
"I'm sorry."
"An apology won't count if you had been chomped down by that beast." Rudolff sighed, kicking the alpha's head off. The carcass left splatters of warm blood as it rolled off to a corner. "Besides, we would also need to get out of here alive."
The grip on his sword tightened, and he leaped, charging the rest of the pack with a fully fledged armor of courage. Wth vicious precision, he swung his blade into the thigh of one, rapidly slicing off the head of another. Then another. Christopher could but only observe with a petrified stare. It would have been less shocking to see the guy wearing a pink apron while flipping pancakes with a mini spatula on a Saturday morning.
In these eighteen years, he wouldn't have guessed he'd be picturing his uncle wearing a crazed look, single-handedly fighting off a crazy pack of giant wolves.
And like the pack, too, understood how berserk he'd become, they started to back off, growling defensively until Rey disappeared into the darkness.
"That's right. . . You better run!" Rudolff yelled, raising his arms to the air in conquer. H turned to Christopher and was met with an utter questioning look. His reply was a shrug. "I've been taking lessons."
"Lies." Christopher kicked in almost immediately. He stood back up on his feet, dusting grime off his pants, his shirt. Then he shot Rudolff with a particular glare. "You have a lot of things you have to come clean about, starting from your actual definition of the unnatural world."
Giant wolves. Demigods. Swordsmanship in a modern society? Christopher needed answers.
". . . fine, I'll tell you. But first, we need to get out of here. "
"But why, the party's just started." A hoarse, mocking voice spoke, accompanying the sound of approaching footsteps.
A man appeared behind Christopher, conforming in a black overcoat that fell to knee length. On his face were a mischievous, smug, and green eyes like Christopher's. His hair, although packed into a bun, was still tousled over his forehead.
"Julius," Rudolff called, his voice speaking of his fear or hatred. Anyways, that was just enough to confirm that the two knew each other.
"Oh? I never knew we would be crossing paths like this, number 779." The guy named Julius smirked, like he'd just hit a bone of hurt.
"Don't call me that, I'm retired now."
Julius laughed, which sounded more like the cackle of a maniac. "Retired huh? I see. And what sort of job description would be protecting the child of the prophecy?" He asked.
Rudolff moved until he towered before Christopher. He gripped his sword. With resolve, and stared dead straight into Julius' eyes.
"He is under Hades' protection, not mine. I assume you'd have a rethink before going against your father's will." He clarified.
Christopher frowned, unable to understand a thing." Rudolff, who's this guy?" He asked.
"He's nobody."
" Oh, why won't you tell him the truth? Let him know the disaster he was born to become." Julius smirked, shaking his hands into his pockets.
"What is he talking about?" Christopher looked up at Rudolff, his eyes demanding answers.
The man heaved a sigh, clenching his fist as if trying to force words out. "I wish we had more time to talk about this." He muttered disappointedly. "When you were born, your father ordered me to look after you, fearing how big a target you would become to the gods."
"My father? The gods? What in the world are you going on about?"
"I'll tell you everything, I promise. But first. . ." He batters his sword in the air, and suddenly a thick mist of shadows curls around him.
His weapon changed form, from a shiny silver blade to a five-foot-long scythe with a black lever. When the shadows dispelled, his clothing had transformed. No, his entire appearance had. His hair was now smooth and black, dressed and greased nicely as if he had just had a magical haircut.
Instead of his smudged t-shirt, he was now in a black suit with a tie fixed below his collar. He now wore neat, fitting shoes, a pair that matched nicely beneath his 6'4 slim body.
Was this Rudolff, or a sent from heaven?
"Now you're looking like the number 779 I remember." Julius made an impressed face, his clasped hands concealing a smirk.
"Julius D' Verona, I'm giving you all the choice to leave this place unscathed. It's never too late to forfeit this mission."
"You're right. . ." Julius turned away from them, "I have all the time to spare... "
And just then, he vanished.
"Watch out, Christopher!" Rudolff yelled, snatching the boy as a dagger swat through the place he'd once camped.
He arch-kicked the air, but Julius dodged, rapidly vanishing and kicking him in the behind. The force sent him crashing into the tunnel walls, with Christopher in his grip.
"But I might as well stretch a bit, don't you think?" Julius approached, tossing anew, two stygian blade daggers. "Come on, rise up now."
"Arrogant bastard." Rudolff stifled a cough as he stood. He tightened the grip on his scythe, and it lit up with anatomic lines of red. "I'm only just getting started."
"Hey hey, I thought this was supposed to be a fair battle, nobody said anything about using bloodline here—"
When Rudolff swung, a net of blood red appeared from nowhere, threatening to slice through his assailant. Julius rolled midair, dodging the attack. Instincts propelled him to slice through a second net. He tossed a dagger at Rudolff, but he dodged.
"You missed."
"You think?"
Rudolf frowned at his smirk. He heard the swing of Julius's dagger coming behind him and so he blocked. Then, a stab. The tip of a black steel blade that had been plunged through his back, impaling out of his chest.
"Rudolff!" Christopher screamed from a distance.
It wasn't until he heard the boy's voice that he realized he'd lost.