It would so easy to surrender to that part of him that could go through the motions of killing someone like it was nothing. It was like something that could be turned on and off in a split second. He hated that it was so easy, that Callingwell and his former handler had excelled at conditioning him to be that way under certain conditions. James Beckett was their weapon, even out of their hands, he was still the very weapon they created. It was probably foolish that he wished to be more than that, that he wanted to hold on to his humanity and be better for her. But if saving her life meant staining his hands with blood again, if it meant adding more names to the list of people whose lives he’d ended, Beck was willing to sin that way again.
The ex-con gave a nod to his friend, taking a quick, deep breath. He was a soldier on a mission again, a brutal weapon about to be put to use once more. Will turned the corner and he followed at his signal, gun held high. He could feel the heat of the flames that escaped from Will’s hands, turning the hallway into and inferno. His path was clear and he blew the office’s door by shooting twice at the lock. Gunshots welcomed him as he burst inside the small office. He dodged, rolling on the ground and shoting the guy that was firing at him, taking a shot at his hand, his chest, his neck, his head. The lifeless body fell to the ground and Beck stood up slowly in turn.
The other guy didn’t have a gun at hand but he did have a knife, one he was ready to use on Liz. Beck recognized the bastard right away. Those blue, empty eyes. He’d fought this asshole before, spared him. He’d put fear in those eyes before and was willing to put it there again before he ensured all light abandoned them. Before the guy could even bring the blade close to the agent’s neck, the ex-con had already hurled himself towards him. His own arm blocked the knife’s path, shielding Liz. The damn knife stayed embedded on his arm for some good five seconds, as the other guy looked at him wide-eyes, shocked that he’d been so reckless to use his own body to protect Liz. Pain ran through him and he could feel the blood trickling down his forearm as both men moved. In spite of the pain, Beck was quick to pull out his own knife. He was not going to give the other man the easy way out of a bullet. Fast and ruthless, the former soldier attacked, raw strength and wrath guiding each movement as he forced his opponent to back away, struggling to defend himself. His blade found skin several times, slashing, if only to extend the fight enough to break the other man before killing him.
How long has she been in this dirty, damp, abandoned warehouse? The minutes became long and drawn out, exhaustion and sheer pain inflicted by her captors made the blonde loose track of time. ‘Are you working with them?’ They kept yelling, taking wads of her hair into their fists and pulling back and back until her scap burned and her neck was twisted back along the metal chair gasping for breath. They’d hit her for fun and pulled her close for a good laugh only to hit her harder when she’d retaliated by spitting blood into their faces. One had kicked her pretty good in the stomach only to make her knees buckle and scrap against the concrete before her cheek made contact with the hard ground beneath her. That’s where she was and had been for the past minute and a half when she heard the men standing guard begin to scream from beyond the office walls.
Her head turned to the side slowly as her limbs began to push her upward, the hand of a rather familar looking blue eyed man taking hold of her to also help her to her feet. “Get up, bitch!” He shouted at her while his fingers gripped at her skin. He tugged and pulled Liz upward, holding onto her roughly as two shots blew the door knob off onto the ground in front of them. “Don’t get any funny ideas, I’ll fucking kill you before he gets to you.” The men who had once been tourturing her looked frighted, from what Liz could make out through the haze of her pain. With her body still quite limp in the blue eyed men’s arms, it was easily lifted and held to his chest as the intruder shot down her other captive, killing him instantly. It was then looking up into the intruders eyes that she knew who had come to save her. She heard another scream before she realized it was erupting from her own lips, the gag that was once secured on her mouth falling losely around her chin. “Beck!” She shouted in the frenzy of knifes and gunshots, feeling the tip of a blade just nearly knick the side of her neck before it was plunged into Beck’s flesh. The blue eyed man practically flung Elizabeth from his arms onto the ground just behind them, her body falling hard against a wooden desk left to rot inside the abandoned office. The two men continued to fight, blood begining to pool onto the ground the more Beck’s blade slashed, cut and severed various parts of the blue eyed captor’s skin.
When he was finally dead on the floor beside Beck’s feet in a pool of his own blood, Liz managed to get hold of the edge of the desk and bring herself upward, though her balance wasn’t all that steady. Her bloodied hands began to shake upon the wooden surface, her other hand held secure within her chest having been broken when they’d first taken her into their van. “Hey…I see you got my text.” Elizabeth breathed out after a moment, resting her hip against the desk so her uninjured hand could reach out to him. Her comment was much more lighthearted than the events that had transpired in front of her, and she noticed herself avoiding all eye contact from the dead bodies resting on the ground just inches away from her. The smell of burnt skin began to waft through the air, which she knew could only mean one thing; Will was here as well. “D-Did he get all of them?” She asked, stumbling on a couple of words as the tips of her fingers wrapped around the fabric at the height of his chest in order to steady herself.
With one man down and three more to go, Will’s fingers twirled around the fire dancing just above his skin, the warmth matching the anger beginning to pool in his chest. They were more afraid of him than he was of them. Their guns were no match for his flames, which could easily burn down their path, their body, and this entire warehouse. Part of him wished to destroy everything his father had touched, even if that meant taking himself down with it, but he reminded himself that there were others counting on him to come back after they rescued Liz. With his heart pounding inside his chest, Will reached out and wrapped his palm around the base of the towering metal shelves above him, watching as the infastructure began to collapse, taking everything else with it.
The men shouted, they shot, their bullets nearly penetrating Will’s skin from time to time, but a slight snap in their pistols made it clear they were running low on ammo. He took this opportunity to corner another man, jumping out in front of him as he reached down to reload, his body becoming ash in mere seconds and blowing away as if he hadn’t exsisted at all. That’s how easy it was to end a person’s life. With Astaroth’s ability, the flames could not only kill a person, but take away their entire being. His fiery rage burned on as he set his sights on another man, burning down the molding tower of cardboard boxes that previously shielded him from any harm. “Take him by the throat.” The demon commanded, and out of the corner of his eye, Will could see the white skinned demon standing beside him with a rather sinister, yet proud smile rested upon his ash colored lips. He complied with the demon’s wishes only to be met with a bullet to the back of his shoulder belonging to the other man he had yet to kill. Will winced and Astaroth laughed, balling his hand up into a fist which caused fire to ghost over Will’s wound, thus healing him in the process.
He looked down where the bullet had previously gone through his skin and snickered, his eyes turning back to Astaroth before he sent a ball of fire hurdling at the man’s chest. Sputtering could be heard in the quiet, echoing warehouse air just before the man’s torso hit the ground roughly, and the remaining men among Richard’s henchman trembled under his grasp. “Turn him to ash, William. Make him pay.” The demon cooed, circling Will like a vulture ready to swoop in for his meal, the tips of his finger grazing against the fire starter’s shoulders. Will paused as he looked into the man’s eyes, seeing nothing but that of his father’s rage, his power, and slight gleam his father got when he’d done something despictable. The man only laughed as Will’s hand tightened around his jugular. “Your father was right about you. You are a fucking monster.” The man chocked out, his last words before flames erupted from Will’s hand and the man’s screams filled the old abandoned warehouse. Astaroth’s praise drowned out the cries of pain as the man burned alive, going limp under Will’s grasp. He dropped the lifeless body to the ground, chest heaving as he turned away from the murderous scene around him, making his way back towards the office, Beck and Elizabeth. Asatroth and his laughter, his praise, it was all merely a distance background noise as he began to approach them. “Hey, you both okay? Christ.” Will muttered the last bit when he finally saw the kind of state Elizabeth was in.
