HEDOSCHISM: WATTY AWARD WINNER

27 // OBSIDIAN

It was staring straight at me.

With a cry, I scrambled back towards Ethan, my limbs choosing that exact moment to turn to jelly.

'You!' the Erelim boomed at Ethan. 'Thief! Traitor! Hell-Hell-Hell-Hell.'

Snarling, Ethan pushed at the air with an insurmountable force and the Erelim, as huge as he had now become, was pushed backwards, sent flying right off his feet. With another twist of his hand, Ethan pulled and the walls of collected jumble just inside the room collapsed with an almighty crash, piles of debris sealing the Erelim into his junkyard-tomb. I could still hear him screaming from beyond the barrier and wondered how long the mountain of hoarded scrap would keep his boiling rage imprisoned. By the incandescent roar emanating from within, I couldn't imagine we had much time before he broke free.

Behind Ethan, I now climbed unsteadily to my feet, as the air seemed to explode just in front of where we stood, the vibrations cascading outwards and almost making me fall again. The Powers had started to reign down blow after blow upon us, while Ethan defended each attack, using their own force against them as he moved his outstretched palms in a circular motion, catching their energy in the maelstrom he was creating and sending it thundering right back at them.

One Power, all gladiator-muscle and with wings that emanated a golden hue that would have been captivating if it wasn't for its hideous face, careened through the air, pin-wheeling and dodging every pulse of energy and, as it drew closer, its grin widened, a triumphant screech whistling from between its clenched needle-sharp teeth. Clawed hands reached for flesh it wished to tear apart, its eyes blazing a victorious glee at the prospect of claiming its prize.

This is it, this is it, I thought, it's too close now. This is it.

I braced myself for the impact, unable to tear my terrified gaze away from the oncoming storm.

Almost upon us, the look in the creature's eyes changed in an instant. The jubilant smugness morphed into a terror-saturated realisation that had come too late for it. It bucked in the air and tried to alter its flight-path, its horrified stare fixed on Ethan.

Standing behind Ethan, I had no idea what the creature could see that I couldn't, but whatever it was, the Power tried frantically to turn at the last minute, its great wings too bulky and at too close a range to achieve much but overwhelm it and slow it down. Curling his fingers into claws, Ethan made a twisting motion with his hands and pushed hard. The Power's body was bent backwards at an impossible angle, and from where I stood I heard the distinct crack of bone, and blood sprayed from its torn flesh as jagged splinters of rib cage burst free from its chest.

It screamed like nothing I had heard before, its agony filling the vaults with a noise so heinous that the other Powers wailed and clapped their own clawed hands over their ears. And as the Power screamed so did the others, all now halted in their tracks, the pain of their brother etched on their faces as if they felt the very same pain themselves.

Ethan twisted again. Another crack of bone. Another scream. Its wings were yanked backwards, the tips disappearing before my eyes – not dissolving – but simply disappearing into a void, feather by feather, inch by inch. It was sickening to behold, but I couldn't tear my eyes away, my morbid curiosity turning me into a twisted spectator, watching the gladiator die a horrific death as Caesar cast his thumbs to the ground.

Ethan grabbed at my hand and I flinched. There was a second, just one second as I dragged my eyes from the scene in front of me, when I wondered what else I would turn to face now. Would I see what the Power had seen? Would I see a monster? My mind echoed with memories of the Cherubim's final judgment, of Leon bleeding profusely from his ears and nose, of Davey with his chest torn open.