Chapter 26: Chapter 12.2 – Misfit Toys ~ So obnoxious, borderline toxic. Both sides go to war like a mosh pit.

*Misfit Toys by Pusha & Mako. 

 

Pitch stopped and stared up at her, “Restraining will do no good.” He saw her glaring at him as if he did more than control her and killed animals for fun. “Oh, fine. We can go.” He snapped his fingers and his fellow wizards and witches looked up to him, “Let’s go. We have a hostage.”

Sara’s eyes opened wide, “You will not take me. You are coming with us to the Heroes’ Headquarters!”

“I don’t think I asked you,” said Pitch, staring to walk, nearly dragging her behind.

Sal flickered in front of her and snarled, “Seriously, this is what you get? That’s all you have in yourself, Sara? Pathetic. I am dismayed in you.”

Sara tightened her eyes. You aren’t real. She hoped when she opened her eyes that he would disappear, but he didn’t. He turned around and glared at Pitch now heading towards the door with a grand grin on his face.

Sal gave one look at Sara’s frightening face and pitied her. He snapped, but not at her, “No one gets to control you besides me.” He gritted down his teeth after a moment’s beat, his body flickered like an angry spirit and roared, “Pitch!”

Pitch turned to Sara, “What?” He didn’t see Sal as he cast his eyes to Sara’s big eyes of confusion. Then, he saw him. A man appeared in front of him and smacked him to the ground. He grabbed the warlock's throat and lifted his hip. Two pairs of twisted, oily black wings sprouted from his back and his eyes glowed black in hatred as he hissed, “You leave her alone. She’s mine, understand, you don’t get to control her like she is all yours. I know what you did to her!”

Pitch gasped for air, struggling, trying to get the strong hands away from him. Sal cocked his head to the side and said, “I know what you did. I won’t say it in front of her,” he turned his voice down a couple of notch in an angry, whisper, “But brainwashing her, that’s cruel. And now controlling her as you own her, hell, you are so fucking stupid?”

Pitch let his hands cupped into Sal’s shoulders, turning paler every second. But his magic didn’t even make Sal flinch one bite. Pitch's heart would’ve stopped in dread if it wasn’t trying to pump so fast to get oxygen in, “Who are you?”

Sal tightened his grip on Pitch’s throat, “Control her again like that, and you will pay. She’s mine, yet you think it’s cute to take her hostage.” He scoffed and shoved Pitch against the wall, right next to the entrance. He hovered his mouth over the warlock’s ear, "You have no idea who she is and what she could do to you, tear you limb to limb.” He chuckled lightly, “She was being nice.”

Pitch’s eyes were slowly closing in as darkness enclose him, barely taking any of the words that Sal was saying, just soft words as he only could hear pain screaming in his body and his lungs about to explode.

Sal dropped his hand and could feel hate boiling in him, “I’ve never liked you anyway.” He whirled at his feet and said warmly to Sara, “Now’s your chance to capture him, darling. Your father will be pleased.”

Pitch let out a huffing grasp as he tried to stable himself back up, his lungs grateful for the big gasping of breaths he was taking. He put his hand on the wall and stood up, about to face Sal, but he was gone. Nowhere in sight. Expect Sara flung a dagger. It grazed his cheek like a burn. She picked up her fallen sword and put it back into her cloak. She shoved him to the wall.

“You’re under arrest,” was all Sara could say as she flipped him over, Pitch’s face smashed against the wall as he was still recovering from being choked to death. Sara thankfully listened to her dad in getting the handcuffs and cuffed him. She yanked him around her, feeling at ease coming across her that she had completed her mission and didn’t kill anyone. At least she wasn’t responsible for that.

Pitch said, feeling the tightening of the cuffs, “Who was he?”

Sara jerked her head to him, “What?”

“That guy? Who talked to me?”

Sara hesitated for only a second and said, “I don’t know who you are talking about.” Her father warned her if she captured him, he would make a move, but he didn’t. She saw Sal choking him, so she did feel bad, but not that awful.

“You do, Sara,” said Pitch, cautiously studying her to as best of his abilities, still recovering from what he just saw and went through. A person with black oily wings, sharp horns on his head, and black eyes giving him threatening words. The thing was, Pitch couldn’t remember what the guy said, he was too busy trying to live. All he could ask was, “Who was he?”

Sara gave her a blank stare and repeated, “I don’t know.”

Kate and Lucifer ran to them, Kate ran to them. She exclaimed, “Sara! You got him!” She hugged Sara tightly, “That’s great.”

Sara was glad about the discussion to end and she beamed, “Yes!”

Pitch blinked confusion at her, “But he—”

Sara grabbed the dagger from the wall and gave a threatening look at him, pointing the sharp tip to his neck, “Best to remain silent. I don’t want to accidentally cut you from you being annoying. You were about to take me hostage, so….shhh.”

Kate said, “I can take him from here, Sara.”

Sara gave her a frown, “I’m not a child.” She stared at Lucifer, “Why is he here?”

“He wants to help us,” said Kate, dismissing Lucifer, “Sara, I’m in charge here, remember? Michael told me so, and you heard that.”

“But,” Sara said, “I captured him.”

“Great, good job, Sara,” Kate snapped back, “Just because you’re Michael’s daughter doesn’t say anything.” She grabbed Pitch’s cuffs and nearly yanked him off from the ground. She smiled and took a deep breath, “I can’t believe we did this. I thought for sure we were going to be doomed.”

Sara did a fake smile, “Yep.” She whirled on her feet, “I’m going to talk to Timothy. Wasn’t like I was going to be kidnapped or anything.”

Kate turned to Lucifer, holding the cuffs as she watched Sara go to Timothy, “You can come with me.” She saw that Pitch’s people had scattered away and most of them disappeared. Finally, the guards came, and she shook her head in disappointment, “Too late guys.” She couldn’t deny she was excited to go to Michael with a successful mission. Yes, some shit happened, but that was life. She hummed as she pushed Pitch close of the doors into the sunny afternoon.

 

***

 

Michael couldn’t believe what he was seeing on the camera. Wait, is that Timothy Watt? He saw magical creatures surrounding his daughter and the warlock. And then Pitch came walking to them like he won a great battle.

The Archangel was hoping every fiber in his angelic, muscular body that things wouldn’t get out of hand, but they did. He sighed and tossed on his long white coat that had golden buttons running down it. The coat had golden trims all around the edges with a sophisticated collar that showed off Michael’s slender neck and sharp collarbones. This was what he usually wore when he went out into a crisis like this and he needed to look like the leader of the angels, which meant, he meant business.

One of the reasons he let the girls take on the job, he wanted to see how they could cooperate on a hard mission like this, and Kate was the only person who saw and sensed his powers. But he wasn’t expecting this.

He watched the camera one more time and couldn’t believe seeing his brother, Lucifer, was there. Another reason why he needed to get himself over to the bank as soon as possible.

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He grabbed some magical marbles from a drawer. He pressed a red button that was underneath his desk that only reacted with his fingerprint. A red alarm went off which only angels could hear. He went out of his office into a busy day in the cafeteria. He heard angels' footsteps coming to him, their eyes full of frantic questioning.

He said to them, raising his head, “We need to go to the Magical Bank for All. Some urgent problems need to be dealt with.”

Daniel and John were next to his side.

Michael said, “I will need backup.” He went out of the Heroes’ Ground in a quick movement and dropped the marble on the ground, letting himself and his sidekicks fellow him inside the welcoming portal.

Michael appeared in the front of the bank, but not at the front entrance. He didn’t want to appear right in front of the mess and make things bad to worse. He saw a crowd of magical creatures forming near the entrance, but there were guards stationed at the entrance, not letting anyone else in. They didn’t want more chaos than what was happening inside.

All Michael could feel was a little twig of fear of who could get hurt and the overwhelming sensation of alluring powers coming from the bank. He knew with certainty, that this warlock could be no other than Pitch.

The Archangel kept repeating the thoughts forming in his head: But how? I killed him. He couldn’t make understand any of this. He killed Pitch. And the worst that came to his feelings of how many lives will fall with his grave mistake.

And what a laughing stock he would be.

He didn’t have time to think about this. He would have to deal with that later. His main focus was to save the lives that were in the bank and capture Pitch.

As he started to walk to the entrance, the guards nodded and made way for Michael to come. He was a tall man, but not intimidating tall but enough to see over heads. Just as he was about to reach three feet to the open doors, he paused, looking around.

A Nephilim? He detected a magical creature half-human and an angel lurking by. The only Nephilim I know who is here—. He stared up at a young Asian boy glaring at the door. He flashed open his wings in the wonderful, glorifying white feathers. The wings unfolded with great drama. His eyes sparkled a slight gold. “Move out, angel.” His eyes lowered and then flickered up and down on Michael’s features, “Wait...you’re the Archangel. The Archangel!” His eyes beamed at him and he immediately went down to his knees, “Please forgive my insolence!”

Michael narrowed his eyes, his voice into a low growl “How dare you show your wings to me in a threatening way?”

“I—” The Nephilim stuttered.

Michael shook his head as he continued where he was heading.

He saw the Nephilim flashing in front of him, his wings tucked, “I thought I could do something and didn’t know you were personally coming.” He quickly added.

The Archangel deepened his suspicious eyes, “Okay?”

“My name is Nathan,” the Nephilim began. He bowed again, “How can be a service to you, my Lord?”

Michael gave him an incredulous look, “First, Nathan. That is offensive. Never tell me I am your Lord, and secondly…” He took a striding step toward the immature boy, his eyes giving off a glare, “You are standing between my safety of my daughter, move out of the way.”

Nathan saw Michael slide to the left, but he stepped in the way, “I can help you! Tell me anything you want me to do!”

Michael was losing his patience quickly and he sharpened a breath, “You’re not helping.”

Nathan became flustered, “I can make it up to you!”

The Archangel took a deep breath, trying not to grab the boy’s neck. He would’ve if Nathan wasn’t a Nephilim. Nephilim were a prize magical people, made from humans and angels, and a great weapon to wars and allies—or a great enemy.

Sadly, all the Nephilim were sacred; but there was the fear of the Devil killing them, and Michael was afraid of a war coming to greet the angels and heroes with an army of Nephilim. They were a force not to take lightly.

Michael didn’t want an enemy, but his mind kept whirling about what was happening inside the bank, “Nathan, please move your ass out of my way, or I will throw you in prison for being in a way of a mission.”

Nathan made an audio gulp and went sideways, and muttered, “Sorry, sir.”

Michael nodded gratefully and went inside the bank. During this unpleasant conversation, the bank had been gotten silent and the Archangel hoped that not everyone was dead in there—or it would be his fault, no matter what.

He was expecting to see dead bodies and hostages to the ground, guns or magic threateningly baring down on them, but instead, he saw Thomas Pitch being forced to the entrance and Kate holding him tightly, with a gun to his head.

“Katerina!” Michael said, not hiding his surprise. Then his eyes went directly to Lucifer, “What are you doing here?”

Lucifer didn’t smirk as he waved his hands around the building, “Oh, just helping.” He didn’t hide the gloat in his voice and the passing smile on his face as he saw Michael give out another surprised face.

“Helping?” Michael nearly laughed, but he saw dead bodies everywhere. This wasn’t the time to get irritated at his brother and look disrespectful at the dead...and that would make him not the angelic Archangel he was supposed to be, “I will talk to you later,” was all he could manage as he stared horror-struck at the many dead bodies as he gazed around the room. Then his heart slammed against his chest as he didn’t see his daughter, “Where’s Sara?” he demanded, his eyes peeling out.

Sara waved at him, “Dad! Here’s Timothy! The warlock that you wanted to talk to.”

Michael again didn’t hide the relief crossing over his face. He wanted to smile happily as Sara skipped to him and smacked him into a tight hug, “We did it! We captured Pitch!”

The Archangel couldn’t help but stroke along her back, “Good girl. We will talk later, I need to deal with the situation at hand.” He forced himself to let her go, feeling as if he was tearing a limb off. He glanced at Lucifer’s judging look and said, “I’ll meet you at the Heroes’ Headquarters.” He turned to Kate, “Daniel and John will help you escort him into the headquarters. Lucifer,” he lifted his chin at his brother, “Go with them or help me clean this mess.”

Lucifer shrugged and was thinking about who he was going to. With his nemesis, Katerina, or with his worst enemy, Michael? He sided next to Sara, “I'll go where she will.”

Michael wasn’t expecting this and he felt his fists tighten. He said through gritted teeth, “Sara, go back home.” He so badly wanted to not say what he said next, as he could almost feel a dagger twist inside of him, “And make sure Lucifer doesn’t...ruin anything.” With all his heart, he didn’t want Lucifer next to his daughter, but what could he do? He couldn’t waste any more time as he had to deal with the shocked magical people around him. “I will hopefully be back before dark.”

He wanted to yank Sara into a tight hug and squeeze her hard, hearing her heartbeat and seeing her beautiful, happy eyes, but he couldn’t afford affectionate right now with death stinking the air.

Sara looked up at Lucifer as if he was just another assignment and twirled a dagger in her hand, “Behave Mr. Morning-star, and I’m sure we will get along just fine.” She did a flicker to her father, “I’ll tie him up in my bedroom.”

Eyes glanced in her direction and Sara stumbled out words, her cheeks blossoming into a cherry, “Not like that!”

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