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 As his eyes slowly dimmed, each passing second felt longer and heavier. The once clear silver buildings formed themselves into a spiralling tunnel, with only the sky as the end of it. Dragging his eyes downwards, he took one last look at the barely discernible man in front of his body.

The arrogant and aloof expression plastered on the guy's face said it all. "Not so tough now, eh?" the slightly more viewable middle aged man let out a coarse chuckle, making the hoodie he wore shake ever so slightly.

"You can only blame yourself, boy. Even though the boss's brat is something else, you shouldn't have layed your hands on him".

A second went by, sinking the sentence in the boy's mind. Further clearing the dizziness.

'What? What is this guy talking about?' the boy muttered in his head whilst the concrete beneath his back dug deeper.

The minor pain jolted him slightly more awake. Now trying to find how he ended up here. Slowly, the image of him saving his friend from getting beat up by some unkown thugs the other day played in his mind.

As he kept reviewing the faint but vivid memory, what felt like a eternity ended in just a second. By the time he was done replaying it the thousandth time, the boy finally found something ammis, causing the luster in his dark gold eyes to grow stronger. Demanding an answer.

The attacker registered this, and a smirked was formed in the corner of his mouth, further strengthening his aloof expression.

"Ha?" his smirked shaped itself into a triumphent smile. "You want to know, don't you? Well, since you are a goner anyway, it wouldn't hurt. Your friend ratted you out. We didn't even need to question him. He gave us all the information he had. And best of all, he was smiling as he did. Ha! can you belive it? Too bad you picked some trash as your brother, Mr. Michael Wiik."

As he heard the sentence, the luster in Michael's eyes grew more radiant. Realisation came over him. Enlightenment seeped into every cell of his unmoving body. The white, lifeless skin regained some color, and his heavy, callus covered hands formed themselves into small clubs.

While rapidly converting his growing loath and regret into fuel for his body, he flung his right foot in the attackers knee. With that came a heavy *crack* causing the man to trip backwards.

"AAAAAAHH! S***, BOY!" the man roared venomously. his short silver hair waving back and forth a couple of times. "You really did it now!" He spat out with a hostile tone while covering his knee. Both eyes driping with resentment and confusion.

However, as the attacker was shifting his surprised and pained gaze from the cracked knee to Michael, he noticed that the boy which he just mocked and taunted was now stand in front of him. His towering and powerful frame blocked the sunlight from touching his skin, from reaching the ground. The aura emitted from the boy's body casued all the flight receptors in his brain to fire uncontrollably.

The once arrogant man now felt cold sweat run down his back, and shiveres of regret invade the bone. While weakly trembling on the ground, starring at Michael, he noticed the now red knife handle sticking out from the center of the boy's chest.

As if trying to comfort himself, he formed a smirk with his lips, covering the unease. Masking the pain and fear he felt. "You should just give it up!" the man laughed. Gaining more confidence back. "That knife is not just some cheap piece of grinded metal!".

Building up some of the previous domineering attitude, the man continued while letting out a shaking but fitting chuckle. "That's what you call a Tri-Edged dagger! The wound on your chest can only be closed by a number of surgeons working together. Hell, with the amount of blood you have lost there won't even be.."

*DUNK

Before he could finish, Michael glued the head of the man perfectly beetween his shoe and the cold yet slightly jagged grey pavement. The impact created a weak tremor, making the small rocks that covered the edges of the sidewalk to jolt like small dices.

Unfortunately, as the power dispersed, more blood flowed out from his wounded chest. It further staining the gray cardigan he wore. *cough *cough he let out.

In spite of this though, Micheal hardend is gaze and kept going. Slowly, he removed the back-end of his shoe from the attacker's face. The once arrogant expression now shared it's appearance with that of a crushed clay brick.

Michael, feeling reasured of his victory, breathed out a sigh of relief from his mouth. Sadly, it was followed by a small river of red liquid. Despite knowing he would not stand much longer, a smile was formed on his face.

"I really did it this time, huh?" He comforted himself with a slightly shaken voice.

Standing there, Michael took a second the fully feel the emptiness of his surroundings. This was not his first battle, but it would be his last. Looking up towards the sky once again, he loosened his hard expression, as there was no tunel coming for him yet.

"Forgive me, father.. mother.. I could not keep my promise to you, and I will also not see you again." Tears formed in his eyes as he reminisced of the times he spendt with them and his younger siblings.

From the time he was but a child, to day he became an adolescent.

Looking back at the memories shared with his 9 year old sister Ingvel and 4 year old brother Cinder, he felt warmth in his heart. Moving on in his mind, like a breeze, he revisited the past. Memories of when his parents divorced stood out firmly in his thoughts like bad weather.

Yet, surprisingly, the one carrying the most weight, the one's that gave of most light, was those where he spent time with his father. The times where they would go jogging in the mountains, or have small verbal confrontations. Where he would buy him games which they would play togheter. He always taught him that even though strenght is good to have, smart people get to lead the best life. That he must strive to become the best person he could ever be.

He repeated the words his father told him while closing his eyes again, causing the last tear he had to fall alongside a drop of blood from the leather handle sticking out of his chest.

Once again, the tunnel formed itself. His mother appeard infront of him, telling him how much she loved both him, his sister, and brother, before going to off to work.

"Both of them resembled mom. Both with their brown hair and green eyes, while I stuck out like a sore thumb with dad's dark gold eyes and goldish brown hair" he muttered with a gentle smile.

However, neither did this gentle expression or stupid smile last long, as he remembered that he would never see any of them again. Once more, Michael was baptized by the strong enlightening which hammered itself beneath his skin.

His eyes violently threw themselves open like a thundering storm, shimmering like a weak but a dying candle.

His expression formed itself into that of an enraged direwolf. Imprinting the face of the once sworn brother inside the flickering embers dispersing in the dying gold eyes.

The feeling of regret was burning up his entire body. His teeth started grinding together, making the same noise as a sawblade being pulled against old rubber.

Despite being on his last breath, Michael's entire body shook violently, his conditioned muscles convulsed and expanded, causing the now half red cardigan to rip ever so slightly.

"JUST YOU WAIT CARTEL HARDLEY!!!! I WILL NOT LET THIS GO!!! EVEN IN MY GRAVE!!!" he screamed whilst shaking.

The echo of his roar was the last ting he heard as a weak ringing noise laid itself over his mind. The tunnel he starred at slowly neared its end. His pupils dilated. Once more, Michael found himself in the embrace of the familiar cold concrete. His consciousness disappeared.

Though he was considered dead, the ringing noise he heard before passing was emitting from the body. The rapid ringing grew louder and louder, until vibrations formed around his corpse, like a sort of cage. The ground began trembling, and the surrounding building waved slightly. But just then, the sound vanished. Disappearing, as if it got what It came for.



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