Fury (4 of 4)

They faced off on top of the building. On one side stood Dante - positioning himself in front of Emily, armed with a length of chain that had been securing the fire escape door. On the other side stood the angel Gwinette - wings spread, head down and ready to pounce.

"I'm not going to let you kill her Gwinette, so you may as well just fly home now."

"Why would you want to prevent her from entering the gates of paradise? You, more then most of your race, must understand that fate."

"It's her choice to seek forgiveness. I seem to remember that was part of the deal made a couple of thousand years ago..."

"Hang on!" yelled Emily, finally breaking the death stare between the man and the angel "Forgiveness for what? I haven't done anything!"

"But you have" whispered the angel "Your soul is blemished with countless sins that would need to be worked off in Purgatory. But you will soon be marked by a much greater stain. A stain that I would not be able to remove."

"What the hell are you talking about?" she screamed

"Enough!" Dante said, silencing Emily. "She has free will. She can choose to avoid this 'great sin'. She can choose to seek forgiveness for it. It is not for you to decide her fate."

"But if I do not, her soul will be lost forever!" the angel wailed. "She cannot choose to avoid the sin - she is already on the path. Either she dies with one innocent's blood on her hands, or thousands. Regardless, she will die with a mortal sin on her soul. And there is no one who can forgive her!"

With that, Gwinette leap forward, pushing Dante aside and grabbed for Emily. Dante grabbed the angel by the shoulder and hurled it back. Gwinette staggered, regain its balance and then charged Dante. Gwinette smashed into Dante, wrapping its' arms around his torso while pushing him backwards. With a powerful jump and a push down with immaculate white wings, Gwinette leaped into the air carrying Dante off the ground.

Still struggling, the two came crashing down by the edge of the roof. Suddenly realising he was still clutching the length of chain, Dante swung blindly as Gwinette tumbled over the top of him. The chain wrapped around, pinning the angel's wings together. As Gwinette, scrambling to its feet, tried to reach around to pull the chain free, Dante grabbed the closest ankle. Hauling himself up, Dante pulled Gwinette's leg out from underneath it, and push back has hard has he could. For a brief moment the angel wobbled on the edge of the building before tumbling over the side.

Fury (3 of 4)

Running along only a few steps behind Dante, Emily was ready to throw the open the fire door the moment they reach it. But with only a few metres to go, Dante pulled up short and whirled around. It took Emily a moment to stop, and by the time she'd turned around, Dante was blocking the path, his baseball bat raised. Beyond him, the angel was standing, looking like some kind of a living statue.

"Out of my way mortal." he growled at Dante, his eyes locked on Emily "This does not concern you."

"Gwinette" Dante said, cocking his head to one side "I don't know if I should be insulted that you don't remember me, or flattered that you called me mortal"

The angel head snapped towards Dante in surprise. There was a moment of recognition before Dante's bat connected, breaking in half and knocking the angel from its feet. Dante delivered two lightning kicks to the perfectly sculpted stomach, and then ran. He grabbed Emily by the arm as he ran past, pulling her towards the glowing green of the exit sign.

"God that felt good!" Dante said, panting as he pulled the door open and stumbled into the stairwell. "Come on, we've got to get to the roof. That won't slow him down for long"

"Then why didn't you just shoot him? You've got a gun!"

"I'm out of bullets. And besides, it wouldn't have been nearly as satisfying."

"You know him?" Emily said as they raced up the stairs, her voice high with disbelief. She was in much better shape than Dante, and was hardly out of breath as they passed the second floor.

"You could say we used to work together. But that would imply some kind of choice on my part and actually doing something useful on his. But yeah, I know him. And I know he's going to kill you when he gets his hands on you, so keep moving!"

"What the hell is going on?"

"Been wondering that myself..." Dante whispered to himself.

Fury (2 of 4)

Like a retired runner starting late in a public race, Dante's old jaguar slid effortlessly through the traffic.

"What was that thing?" the woman - Emily Olsen - said for the third or fourth time. She was still frantically scanning the sky, but at least seemed to be getting over her initial fright.

"I think you know." Dante said distractedly - his attention mostly taken by trying to keep all four wheels on the ground. "You certainly got a better look at him then I did"

"I thought it was just a man - some guy who was stalking me. But he had wings! Like an angel..."

"Bingo!" Dante swerved around a truck, and took a sharp right to avoid a slow moving beetle. "He belongs to an order called the Piaculum."

"The what? 'Sacrifice'?"

"Close," said Dante, slightly impressed "but no. It's more 'atonement'."

"But how does attacking me make up for anything?" Emily screamed as Dante moved onto the other side of the road.

"No no no" he swerved from left and right around the oncoming traffic. "The Piaculum are responsible for purifying souls so they can enter heaven. They're the ones who brought Noah's flood, destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah and who guard purgatory. He's not atoning."

"I can't see him any more. I think we've lost him..." she said, avoiding the conclusion Dante had not made and resuming her watch.

"Nah" said Dante as they shot past a couple of vacant lots and a small Seven-11. "Watch"

Emily turned in time to see a man appear at the edge of the roof overlooking the vacant lots. White wings spread out from his back as he dived forward, glided over the Seven-11 and scrambled onto the roof of the next skyscraper.

"He can't fly - not really anyway - but he can glide. That's how he's fast enough to keep up. But he'd have a hard time getting altitude and maneuvering between the buildings. So we're safe down here - as long as we keep moving."

The car in front suddenly decided not to run the orange light. Dante wrestled the jaguar into a narrow alley, but then had to slam on the brakes anyway - their path was blocked by a pair of dumpsters. Taking a deep breath for the series of expletives that he was about to erupt with, Dante glanced in the rear-view mirror. Directly opposite the alley was the entrance to an underground garage - it's imposing grill open to let a black SUV trundle out.

Turning quickly around in his seat, Dante slammed the stick into reverse and pushed the accelerator to the floor. The jaguar's tires screamed as it tore from the alley, shot across the street and leaped down the ramp as the grill clattered closed.

Dante carefully pulled into the closest spot, turned off the ignition and then remembered to breathe out.

Fury (1 of 4)

The woman was scared. He was still following her, she was sure. As she pushed her way frantically through the crowd, she’d occasionally catch glimpses of him. Over her shoulder, in the windows of office buildings, even on the massive television screen that hung outside the subway station. She desperately needed to get away.

She just managed to make it across the road before the storm of cars erupted again. As she dared another glance over her shoulder, she saw him. He was standing at the front of the mass of people waiting to cross. He had eyes only for her. His brown overcoat seemed impervious to the wind. His hands, thrust deep in his pockets, guarded treasure troves of fear.

Running now, no longer caring if anyone thought her strange or crazy. Her only thought was to get away. In desperation, she found herself making random turns, taking side streets and alleys. It was too late when she realised her mistake – away from all the people, there would be nothing to make him wait.

She was halfway down the narrow street between two office blocks when she heard steady footfalls behind her. Unable to stop herself, she turned to face her stalker. His face was beautiful and his golden hair flowed down his neck. But his eyes held an anger and hate she had never known. His coat hung open, and with a shrug it slid off revealing an impossibly chiselled chest and four beautifully perfect wings.

“What are you?” she pleaded. Somehow he was closer to her now – she could smell rosemary and incense and blood. Still he said nothing, but hate twisted his face.

Headlights blasted the shadows from the alley as a small dark sports car came roaring towards her. He tensed like a cat ready to snatch its prey from a rival, only to be driven back by a hail of bullets. The car skidded to a halt, the driver holding the steering wheel in a death grip with one hand, and frantically working the trigger of a large revolver with the other. With a scream of frustration, The winged man scrambled straight up the alley wall, threw himself into the air and took flight.

"Get in!" screamed the driver.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, where are my manners. My name is Dante Harsher, and I'm pleased to meet you. Now will you get in the fucking car before it decides to come back?"