Those Who Cannot Die by Levi Bible (urban books to read .TXT) 📕

presence in that void before now. Why did it plague him now?
A servant took the documents and tomes from him, catching him off guard. He almost attacked, but then he realized it was probably his orders.
“Come, now Isaac. Let us feast, to freedom.” Cornelius said, leading him into the building. The room expanded before Isaac, red carpets, beautiful stained-glass windows, luminous torches. A paradise.
A large door lay before Isaac, the room inside filled with torches and sunlight. A large table sat in the middle, candles and a glorious red tablecloth with purple adornments covering the tables. “Come, sit, have a glass. Lets talk about worldly happenings.”
“What worldly happenings would I know of?” Isaac asked, the servants placing a wine glass and a silver platter.
“The time has come for me to tell you what I have really been doing, Isaac.” Cornelius said. “Now that you are experiencing these ‘visions’ as well.”
“What you have ‘really’ been doing? I don’t get it.” Isaac said, the servants pouring wine into the glass, and putting a full turkey onto the plate.
“Yes. You see, we are not the last two Immortals on Earth.” Cornelius said, sitting down, sitting back as the servants served his meal. Isaac nodded, indicating that he understood. “There are three others, which I have searched for, and have only had luck with two. You…” he said, grabbing his fork, and putting a bite in his mouth. Isaac looked at his food, he had no appetite at the moment.
Cornelius gulped, taking a drink of his wine. “…and another in Italy. Coincidentally, he is also Roman.” Isaac shifted in surprise, looking at Cornelius. “His name is Orpheus.”
“Do any of the other Immortals have these crazy nicknames you gave us?” Isaac asked, humour in his voice.
“Yes, actually. In fact, my vision mentioned five titles. ‘The Disease’, presumably you, ‘The Genius’, more than likely me, ‘The Twin’, ‘The Crusader’, and the ‘New Life’.”
“I see…” Isaac said, taking a sip of the wine, feeling the cool liquid pour down his throat. Placing the glass down on the table, Cornelius was sitting back.
“So, I ask you if you know anything, about any other Immortals?” he asked, folding his hands and resting his chin on them.
“I’m sorry, but no.” Isaac said, standing. “I have no appetite at the moment.”
“Ah, then shall I show you your room?” Cornelius said, standing.
“I’d say ‘yes’, but I am afraid of what you could have come up with.” Isaac said, a smirk coming over his face.
“Ah, come on then.” Cornelius led Isaac down a long hallway, a decorated door leading to his room. The main decoration was the glorious large bed in the center of the room, surrounded by stairs and a red carpet. The window let the sun shine through, now orange as the horizon overtook the light. Isaac slowly walked toward the center, feeling his pocket for the note, the dagger, and the rose. Holding the rose in front of him, he saw her face. He didn’t want it to be, but it was. He was infatuated.
“Something wrong?” Cornelius asked, standing at the doorway. Isaac placed the rose on the bed, along with the note and the dagger. “There are some new clothes for you in the closet. That prisoner’s tunic doesn’t suit you.” He started to walk out, and stopped. “If you need me, just look for me.”
The door closed, Isaac left to stare at the note, the only legible words being “Farewell Isaac” and Cyrus’ name. He sat on the bed, looking at the three objects, still trying to discern what they could mean. Cyrus didn’t write the note, otherwise there wouldn’t be blood on it. Unless he was psychopathic. That didn’t seem likely.
Isaac lie on the bed, sleep overtaking him. The first non-torturous sleep he had in months, and it was more painful than any of the nights inside the torture den.
That night I had more dreams. Worse dreams. They were also about the soldiers, the ones that were in the desert. Their color was also green, but they were different people. I could only assume the others had died. What had really shocked me was what they were fighting. Rather than other humans, they were creatures the like of which I had never seen. Incredible monsters that brimmed with darkness.

They had no mercy. The soldiers fell quickly and painfully. The monster's ugly porous appearance just as much torture. The worst part, I couldn't do anything. I was forced to stand there, and watch. A cold sweat ran over me, the overpowering darkness contained within the creature's aura pushing me back a few steps.

I awoke again, sweat dripping down my face. Looking around the richly decorated room. Sitting up, I looked at my palms, clenching my fists a few times and then stopping. "What…happened…?" I muttered, looking around. The décor of the room was very regal, the dresser made of some form of oak, the windows were showing the moon crystal clear. The moonlight blacked out for a moment, then shined again. I looked up, seeing a figure black against the white circle. He stood, looking at it. It seemed to stare at me, stare through me.

I got dressed as quickly as possible, the figure still watching, as though it were waiting for me. Opening the window, I followed the figure, which leaped off the rooftop he was perched on. I leapt upward, placing my foot on the wall, and pushing myself farther along the wall. I ascended rather quickly, making it to the rooftop. The chase continued, wind blowing through my crimson hair. I leaped across the rooftop, across a small canal, and landed a few yards away from the figure. It turned and began to flee, at speeds no Mortal could have surmised. It leaped off of the building, landing below in a fruit stand, crushing it.

I followed, landing by the crushed remains of the stand. The figure was already running away, the streets now becoming a race. I followed, more than likely with equal, if not greater, speed than the figure. It stopped before a larger canal, turning around. The moonlight cast a light upon his darkened face, golden-red scars coursing his face, his hair deepened black, his eyes filled with a demonic sense.

"Who are you?" it asked, cracking its neck.

"Call me Isaac." I replied, looking at him. The golden-red scars, more like fissures in his skin showing deep lava from beneath accompanied his darkened grey skin.

"Fool." He said, drawing a scimitar, "Now you die."

"I do not fear Death." I replied. He drew the knife he found with the rose, twirling it.

"A knife?" he asked, smiling. His teeth were pure white, save for blood dripping off of them.

"A vampire?" I asked, holding the dagger in front of me, my other hand behind the blade to reinforce any blows I dealt.

"You wish, kid." He replied, flying at me. He stabbed his blade forward; I barely managed dodge due to the sheer speed at which he attacked.

"Then what?" I asked, now deciding to fight seriously. It would be the first time in years he had fought an equal.

"Immortal." He replied, slashing at me, a wave of dark power flying at me. I somersaulted to the right, the hard, rocky ground meeting first the bone in my neck, then rolled to my spine, then my butt, then back to my legs.

"Immortal? Already?" I replied, looking at the dark creature. "What the hell did you do to yourself?" I shouted, looking at him.

"Why does a mortal like you even care? It isn't like I will die from it!" the figure shouted, slashing another dark wave of energy at me. After somersaulting out of the way, I focused my power into the dagger I held. I focused it into a blade—a blade forged from my soul. An Astral Blade. The energy swirled around the edge of the dagger, then lengthened, growing to the size of a small sword. I swung the blade a few times, making sure I forged it correctly, otherwise I would merely damage myself with the weapon.

"An Angel?" the figure said, holding the sword in front.

"No." I replied curtly. "I am Isaac." I concluded. The Immortal in front of me was outraged. "Very well then, 'Isaac', suffer!" he called, charging again at full speed. Twirling my blade before me, I flew at him with equal speed, our blades clashed. A strong wind created from the impact blasted us both, or at least, it is assumable that it did, as I flew into a wall. The knife lost the Astral Blade I had given it, laying before me as I grabbed it. Standing, I looked at where I was, seeing the Immortal stand as well. It wasn't looking at me.

Isaac looked across the street, again activating the Astral Blade. "No matter what, you won't win." He said, cracking his neck. "Immortal or no, I am superior to you, fool."

The dark Immortal across the street spat, his golden-red scars stretching along his dark grey skin. "I hate you…" it muttered. "you are a plague upon this land…"

"And you are nothing more than an animal." Isaac said. "Besides, sometime 'The Demon' kills the unneeded parts of society."

"What…?" asked the Immortal.

"So you don't know? All Immortals have a 'title', or so Cornelius says," he twirled the Astral Blade, and pointed it towards the Immortal. "I am Isaac 'The Demon', for whatever reason, but I guess corny lines aside, the time for you to die has come." The Immortal stood.

"Go ahead and try it." The Immortal said, before looking North. "No…no…!" he said, then began running. "It followed me!"

Isaac walked out to the middle of the street, looking toward where the Immortal looked. It no longer mattered to him what happened to the Immortal. His Astral Blade hummed, the bright blue that was his soul's color shined in the dark night. Save for a shining light coming towards him. He looked at it.

"It couldn't be…well I'll be damned…" he muttered, the light coming closer, growing bigger, at extreme speeds. "Looks like the Immortal won't be my hardest fight after all."

The light crashed into him, a hand grabbing his throat. "You fool Orpheus! Letting me catch up!" Isaac struggled, incapable of speaking, his arm holding the Astral Blade ensnared by the light. He tried punching the light, but as his fist was about to collide, the light backed away from where he was. Desperate, he let the Astral Blade drop, returning it to a normal knife, and charged his fist with the same energy. He grabbed the wrist of whatever was holding his throat, concentrating it into flames. The light let go, Isaac crashing through a home and falling into water.

He came up, taking a deep breath of gratitude. The light died down, revealing an angelic figure, with four wings and a covered face. Not just an Angel… Isaac thought, staring, …but an Archangel…

"Orpheus, you will end here and now!" it called, launching a beam of light into the water. Isaac was blasted through a bridge, and landed back into the canal, his blood washed away in the currents. He grabbed onto the wall on the side, looking at the Archangel as he clambered up. On the ground, he began breathing normally again.

"Look," he said, standing, "I don't know who you think I am, but my name is Isaac." He called toward the Archangel. It stopped, looking at him.

"Isaac… 'The Demon'…" it muttered, looking at him. "Another who must be ended."

Isaac looked at the Archangel, prepared to fight if