How hard could it be? • LM / SS

Chapter 103

"Where the hell's Peter!" Scott yelled, still backing up the stairs.

Max held his gun in front of him, his other hand running against the banister so he wouldn't faceplant. "It's Peter, where the fuck do you think he is? He doesn't care what happens to us, all he cares about is making sure he survives!" he shouted. His patience was running thin, simply over the fact that there was so much anxiety and adrenaline flowing through his body right now.

Deciding that there was nothing else to do, they turned their attention away from the berserker, rushing up the remaining flight of stairs. It was their best and only remaining option, which had been screwed in a matter of seconds. The original berserker made another reappearance, jumping onto the top of the staircase. Both of the exits were blocked by Kate's monstrous henchmen, giving her time to twist her way into Derek's head.

"Maybe jumping off the balcony would be our best bet!" Max shouted, steadying his hands and turning back to back with Malia, while Scott covered their sides.

Scott roared, not wasting another second and tackling the first berserker. He thought it would be a lot easier, but it wasn't. After landing a few punches that only made his hand pulse with pain, his head was being smashed repeatedly into the wall. "Max, is there anything you can do? You know, the empath and evil of all evil thing could come in handy!" Scott yelped, kicking his legs back.

Malia got thrown up the steps with ease, her head hitting painfully against the floor.

Throwing the gun aside and ignoring the pain in his head, he pulled out a pair of batons that had been tucked inside his sweater. Racking his brain, a thought struck him. He hadn't tried it before, only read about it in his dad's diary. It served the same purpose as a witch's spell book, apart from the fact it was for empath's. Hey, what was the worst that could happen? He had nothing to lose. They were probably going to die, but he would much rather go down with a fight.

Step one of the job was complete when he got a hold on the berserker's emotions. It was a dead emptiness, but it was still a feeling, something he could use as a lifeline. He looked down at his hands, laughing shakily when a bright green light illuminated from his palms.

It had worked. It had actually worked!

He punched the berserker in the chest, in exactly the same way as Scott had done. He knew that if his theory was wrong, it would have left him with a broken hand to tend to. The berserker stumbled, flying into a row of lockers that would definitely need to be fixed.

Max jumped up and down like a kid at Christmas, feeling on top of the world. He had helped! This time it wasn't up to Jade or Malia or Scott or anyone else to save them; he had done it! This was hands down the best thing that had ever happened to him. He had listened to what had been written in the journal, taking in the information and having faith that it would work. And guess what— it did! He had just performed one of his first major spells, using intuitive empathic replication to clone the berserker's powers and temporarily gain them for himself. He had done that! Him, Max Pierce!

His celebration was short-lived when the berserker came back for round two, firing him into the wall and letting him crumble to the floor in a heap, but he didn't care.

Sure, it had only lasted for twenty seconds, but it had happened. Maybe he shouldn't have gotten that giddy and lost his grip on the emptiness, but it didn't matter. He knew he could do it now and it gave him a new found look on life, a pride that no one could strip away.

A pair of running footsteps came to the rescue, Kira bolting in from around the corner, ready to defend her friends from danger. She brandished her katana at the berserker's, hitting them in their armour with the weapon. She had the upper hand until her stance became wobbly, the sword getting yanked out of her hand with a swipe of claws. Her jaw cracked when she got whacked across the face, landing beside Scott.