Michael: Last Angel of Earth
Wrath of the Hyrda

“Beth, you look good,” said Barjon. The white-haired pirate seductively walked towards him. She pressed up against him and whispered in his ear.

“What brings you here, love?” she asked.

“The Selkies,” he replied. The female captain laughed childlessly and walked away. She turned to one of her crates with skin and grabbed one from inside. Tossing one over to him, the Witch noticed his scowl. She pouted.

“What’s wrong? I thought you needed them?” Barjon glanced at the selkie skin below and glared at her. The Witch knew Barjon was in no mood for games; thus, she decided to act seriously.

“Look, Barjon, I’m a pirate. My crew and I raid from place to place, yet most of the booty we gain is not ours. We must share the wealth with the lord of these isles, Zarakoth. Do you know how much wealth we have to give that scaley bastard?” Barjon could care less, but Beth would tell him anyway. “Sixty percent, that leaves us....” Before she could finish, Barjon raised a hand to her.

“Spare me your sob story. You are not a victim of circumstance. The Hydra corsairs enjoy what they do and enjoy their protection under Zarakoth. And you enjoy the pleasure of continuing your experiments.” The statement enraged the pirates, and then men began drawing their swords. The Witch halted them.

“I see you are in no mood to enjoy the company of us. So I’ll make this brief. Leave now, and my men will give you and your friends safe passage home.”

“What friends?” Suddenly Beth unsheathed her cutless and pointed the tip directly at his throat.

“Do not try my patience, Barjon. I know your friends are on the cliff overlooking us. We saw your company arrive on the shore.” Barjon cursed as he did not think Beth would have found out about them.

“My men are already up there. They won’t hurt them unless I say so. Thus I ask you once more. Take my offer, or die?” Barjon was in a difficult situation. He and his companions needed the selkies, but Beth would not give them up without a fight. That’s when an idea pops into his head.

“You’re a gambler? Let’s make this interesting. I’ll fight you for the selkies. If I win, you and crew leave this place and forsake piracy.” Beth chuckled at the request.

“You just don’t know when to quit. Agreed, but if I win, you and your friends will be our next tribute to the lord of the isles, and your lovely town will be turned into our new haven.” This was a risky bet; however, Barjon could not find another alternative.

“Agreed.” Shaking the deal, Beth orders her men to make space and give them room. Taking complete control of the deck, Beth grabs a sword from one of her crewmates and tosses it to Barjon. He catches the sword but then lets it fall to the ground. His action confused the female pirate.

“What the hell?”

“I won’t fight you with a sword.”

“Are you getting particular?” Barjon extended his hands to her.

“I am a man of the cloth. I cannot fight you with a blade.” Beth grunted and asked one of her men to toss her opponent a boat oar. This was more to his liking.

“Now can we fight?” said Beth.

“Normally, one would say ladies first, but you are not a lady, at least not anymore,” quipped Barjon. Growling, the female pirate lunges at him with her sword. Using the oar, he deflects the blow and hits the captain in the back. Beth rubs her head and strikes once more. She swung her sword downward, but Barjon blocked the strike once more. The two then realized that Beth’s sword was lodged in the shaft of the oar. Taking the initiative, Beth places her forearm on the blade, trying to put all her weight behind the sword.

Struggling, Barjon was forced to take a knee. He then sees Beth leaning over him, cracking a sinister grin. Barjon could not afford to lose. Breathing softly, he surprises the pirate queen as he falls on his back, using the momentum to toss Beth over him, losing her sword. The move sent her tumbling over him and into the ship's main beam. She hits the wooden pole with a thud, and Barjon quickly gets up. He pulls the sword out of the oar and tosses it across the deck.

Beth turns around, blood dripping from her head and something else. Her skin was beeling, but underneath was not bone, but skin again. This time, it was golden, almost lizard-like. Before he can react, he yells in pain as his right arm is slashed across. He looks and sees Beth behind him. Then his left arm is cut, then his back, torso, leg, and face. Beth was moving at an inhuman rate. Barjon may have been an angel once but he could not match her speed without his powers. He had to rely upon his centuries of training solely. Seeing his bloody cloak, he tears off the garment, exposing his tattoed body. Beth chuckles

“That’s a lot of blood, Barjon, and I thought your kind did not bleed.” Barjon looks at her in shock. Your kind?

“I had my suspicions about you when we first met. Now I know.” Barjon felt his heart race.

“You cannot let her tell the truth,” said the voice in his head. “She must be killed.” Without thinking, he charges at Beth and tackles her to the ground. Pinning one of her arms, he punches her over and over. Blood splattered all over his face, his knuckles were turning red, and anger, hate, and fear were burning in his eyes. He raises his fist for another blow but stops as he looks at his handy work. Beth had a swollen eye, a busted jaw, and cuts across her cheek. Breathing heavily, he gets off her and makes his way to the bottom deck. That’s when he hears Beth laughing in pain. He turns around and looks at her.

“Why are you laughing?” he grunted. Beth slowly gets herself and looks at him with madness in her eyes.

“I was raised to believe that angels were better than humans. They do not feel anger and hate nor give in to their emotions. But that’s a lie. You’re no better than us humans, especially you. You are nothing but a dog. A weary, old dog. And old dogs need to be put down.” Suddenly Beth reaches into her pouch and pulls out a green vile. Popping the top off, she drinks the green liquid. Her body soon begins to twist and contort. The sight makes her crew start to panic and flee the ship. He can hear her bones break and reset over and over. Then, she falls on all fours, limbs outstretched, and skin falling off. Then, as he lifts her head, she lets out a bellowing roar as her head splits into five sections, each taking the same form. It was here that Barjon knew what was happening. Grabbing the white angel and blood, he tries to jump off the ship but is blocked by a golden tail. He turned and saw that Beth had transformed into the creature of her crew’s namesake, the Hydra.

“What on earth is that?” said Fiona. Back at the cliff, Fiona and the others managed to scare off Beth’s pirates. They then turn their attention to the cave entrance and see a massive creature atop the ship.

“The Hydra, a creature from Greek myth,” replied Ambros.

“Seems the myth is a reality now,” said Colum. ” What do we do, Ambros?”

“Nothing. We can’t kill the beast; it will only grow back. But with Barjon distracting the beast, we can sneak onto the ship and free the selkies.”

“Risky Ambros, even for you,” said Colum.

“We have been in worse situations before in the Irish Army.” Ambros gets up. “Come on. We need to hurry. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“YOU’RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE!!!” shouted one of the heads. Barjon dodged another strike from the golden water serpent. He knew he could not do this forever. His area was getting smaller, and he could not risk more damage to the ship, thus harming the selkies. Just then, he sees his friends from the corner of his eye. He could not tell what they were planning, but he knew he had to keep the Hydra’s attention solely on him. He tries chatting with her.

“Well, this is new, Beth. I knew you were a witch, but I never thought you could do this,” said Barjon. One of the heads snickered and made a mock attack her its jaw.

“So tell me, why do you want the selkies?”

“I already gave you my reason,” replied one head.

“I don’t buy it. You are taking them for another reason. What did Zarakoth promise you?”

“Freedom,” said another.

Freedom? What freedom could she possibly want?

“For several years, I have struggled with my...condition. Zarakoth informed me that his mages could fix me if provided enough selkies for him to extract their transformative essence.” She lets out a deep hiss. “I refuse to live like this anymore.” Barjon sees his friends near a dock at the far end of the ship. They confiscated a boat and began to row their way toward the ship. He turns his gaze back onto the Hydra. He had to find a way to stop her. Sadly, according to the myth, two heads will emerge if one is cut. But then, an idea pops into his head. What about the heart? Seeing the sword on the ground, he rushes towards it, only to be swept up by one of the hydras’ tails. Landing hard on his back, he feels one of the heads coil around his body, crushing him. He could feel his bones begin to creak. Squirming his arm out of the coils, he managed to free them and grab the vile of gorgon blood and white angel. Quickly sprinkling power on the nape of the neck, he drops a small dose of the blood.

There was a light hiss. Then the potion began causing an explosion, severing the head coiling around Barjon. Bits of flesh and golden scales scattered the deck. As he landed on the floor, he quickly rushed over to a few crates of white angel. He rips off the lid and sees the white powder. Just behind him, he sees the neck growing back its head. Running out of time, he gathers a few bags full of the white angel and grabs the vile. Turning around, he finds himself corned by the Hydra's many heads. Seeing no way out, he thought this would be the end. Then he hears gunfire coming from the other side of the ship. Ambros and the others were shooting their rifles at the monster. The bullets don’t harm the creature but provide the necessary distraction. With the heads away, Barjon grabbed the vile and bags he filled and ran up behind the golden serpent.

Climbing up on its back, he slowly makes his way the scaley back until he is just under the end of the center head’s neck. This would be the challenge. Taking a deep breath, he continues his ascent up the moving neck, narrowly avoiding the gaze of the other heads. As he neared the top of the skull, He looked from the corner of his eye and saw one of the heads fixed on him. Improvising, he quickly grabs the powder bags and vile and throws them into the creature's gaping mouth before jumping off.

“Enjoy your medicine,” Barjon shouted back. Almost instantly, a chain reaction occurred as the head engulfed the powder and vile of blood. The vile and white angel mixture caused an internal explosion reverberating across the other heads and the main body. The Hydra lets out a screech in pain and falls off the ship and into the water. Landing back on board the vessel, Barjon and the others could no longer see the Hydra outline in the water.

They were victorious.

“Thank you for saving us, Barjon,” said one of the Selkies. With the Hydra seemingly dead, Barjon went down to the ship’s lower decks and helped free the water beings.

“It was a team effort,” said Barjon, pointing to Ambros and the others for their distraction. After freeing the Selkies, the creatures were more than happy to provide Ambros and the others with much-needed medical supplies. The Abbott thanked them for their help and apologized that they could not save them all. The Selkies smiled at said that they came to their rescue; that was more than enough. With their goal complete. Ambros and the others went back onto their boat and made the long journey home, but not before thanking their friends for help. While this was happening, no one could see the faint outline of a female figure swimming underneath the water—a figure with ghostly white hair.

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