Two Page Shorts by Nick Venom (ebook reader for surface pro TXT) 📕

shook his head. “Return home now!” He barked, turning to face an incoming demon. He slashed at the demon with great speed, killing it instantly. “Now, Austin!”

Austin refused to move. He turned to face the demons, pointing the Hell-Ax at the horde. “By the name of Aizen Hell, create and enforce a barrier over the person of my choosing. Demon’s Imprisonment!” He exclaimed. He felt something massive being drained from his body. It was as if all of the liquids inside his body had evaporated, leaving him with a massive headache and severe dehydration. He teetered back and forth, his legs collapsing from under him. “W-W-What’s h-happening?” He mumbled.

“You have a limited mana pool, my little birdie. That many demons captured at once will drain it severely.” Aizen explained. “It’ll go away once you rest. However, when out of mana, you are left defenseless against your foes. Refrain from draining your mana pool to dryness.” He said.

Austin nodded, glancing up at his worried father. “What’s wrong with you, Austin?” He asked, staring at his son who had made a strange chant before collapsing to the ground. “What did you do?”

“My Lord!” A soldier shouted. Roosevelt’s attention was shifted temporarily to the soldier pointing at the demons. They weren’t moving, only able to shift back and forth a few inches. The soldiers and Roosevelt were in disbelief. “They’re not moving!”

“Then what are you waiting for? Kill them all!” He shouted, turning back to Austin. “You did this?”

Austin nodded, dazed. “I… I… I p-protected everybody.” He said before his eyes drifted to sleep. His father picked up his body and took him home to be checked out by the town’s doctor. Fortunately, he was only resting and the wounds he received weren’t enough to kill him; the fatal strike was no longer there, but the other strikes were still there - it was as if time had reversed enough for Austin to not be fatally struck. 

Unfortunately, Austin didn’t awake until a month later. He had used up all of his mana for the first time and his young body didn’t react well to it. Even so, he wouldn’t die from it, only stuck in a coma.

After a month’s rest, he awoke in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Am I…? Am I alive? He thought to himself. What happened to me? He sat up, glancing out of the window. He saw the same guards walking around, doing their perimeter checks. Austin furrowed his brows. Am I in the past? He thought as he shot out of bed, looking around for any clues about the date. The Hell-Ax was nowhere to be seen and nothing else in his room was significant enough to tell him the date. 

He walked out of his room, going downstairs where his mother sat on the couch, scribbling something onto a piece of paper. She heard the scuffling of bare feet against wooden floors, looking up at the cause of the sounds. She dropped her pencil instantly, shooting up at a dangerous speed for the baby. “Austin, you’re awake!” She squealed. “You’re awake! You’re awake! You’re awake!” She said with tears in her eyes. The same servant that assist Lise was in the room, his mouth opened wide in shock at the sight of Austin.

“Mom… what happened?”

“You fainted during the fighting.” She said as she approached him. She glanced at the servant, ordering him to call Roosevelt and Penelope. He nodded, going off to contact them.

Meanwhile, Lise embraced her son tightly. She was sobbing, the tears rolling off his cheeks and landing on Austin’s clothes. He embraced her back, crying as well. Minutes later, Roosevelt and Penelope entered from outside, both jumping towards Austin. Penelope entered crying her eyes out, unable to control herself. Lise backed away, giving Penelope time to embrace her brother, hugging him as tightly as she could as if he would disappear in the next second. Fortunately for the entire family, he wouldn’t.

After Penelope came Roosevelt’s turn, who was shedding tears by the bucket loads. Austin’s mouth was opened, surprised to see his father, the Warrior Lord, crying like a baby. He embraced him tightly, even raising him into the air. “My son!” He exclaimed. “You’re awake!” Lise and Penelope watched with smiles and tears. The entire family was a mess, but nobody could fault them. Austin awoke and the town, which suffered some damage, was still alive. Everything was going great for them.

Until it didn’t.

Several minutes later, the servant reappeared with a letter in his hand. He didn’t look happy to be holding the letter, hesitant in giving him it. “My Lord?”

“What is it?” Roosevelt responded, irritated to be interrupted. “Spit it out!”

“A letter from the Howling Committee has arrived.” He said.

Roosevelt’s face was drained of color. He reluctantly took the letter, opening it and reading the contents. With every sentence, his expression grew grimmer and grimmer. Once he was done, he turned to face Austin. 

“What happened?” Austin asked, worried about the letter.”

“It’s… They…” He bit his lip. “The Howling Committee wants you to go to the capital.”

“W-What?” He asked, furrowing his brows. Why would they want me? He thought to himself.

“They want to use you and turn you into a hero against the demons.”

“How did they learn about him?” Lise asked, irritated.

Roosevelt shrugged his shoulders, glancing at the servant who shook his head. “Rumors must’ve reached their ears. They want to use my son as a puppet! How dare they!”

“Can we refuse it?” Penelope chimed in. 

Roosevelt shook his head. “We… We can’t. It’s an order from them, not a request. He has to go.” He bit his lip again.

Austin looked away from them. How the hell did they learn about me? Did rumors spread that quickly? What do I do? Do we run away or do we try to fight them? He thought to himself. However, his father’s words and expression told him that they couldn’t do either choice. He would have to go with the third one. “... I… I will go, father.” He stifled a sob.

 

After leaving his house, he returned to the spot where he had fainted. Laying on the ground was his weapon, which had no red mist anywhere. According to his father, anybody who tried to grab it was burned at the touch. Only he could hold it.

He grabbed the Hell-Ax, keeping it close to his chest. “Are you there?” He asked.

“Refer to me as Aizen Hell, my little birdie. I already understand your situation.”

Austin nodded. “Can I do anything against it?”

“I wouldn’t be able to interfere with the mortal realm any more than I have.” He said.

“Oh… then I have to go.”

“Don’t cry, my little birdie. With me at your side, and not faceplanted in the dirt, you can destroy any foe in your way. Don’t forget that I granted you power.” He remarked. 

Austin nodded. “Power, huh?” He looked up at the sky. He was being forced to leave his family and friends to help the idiots in power. He couldn’t repel against them or Creek would suffer. “When will I have true power?”

“Soon, very soon. Just keep moving forward and power will appear at your side. I can be sure of it.”

And so they left.

Hangman 2: Task Force 147

The president’s disappearance was well documented through blurry recordings and mysterious pictures of the incident. The news spread like wildfire, getting gas through social media, and exploding into a few weeks of chaos. Without the president’s safety and the president’s kidnapper’s identity being known within the first few days, America transcended into chaos. Riots, protests, property damage, murder, rape - these violet acts jumped up ferocity as the tension rose. 

The military was sent in to deal with the rioters, kidnappers, murderers, rapists, and somewhat peaceful protestors. The army did their best to quell the violence, but what America needed was reassurance that everything will be okay.

It came with a speech.

Eyes from all over the world were glued to their televisions, watching the vice president make his speech. The few hundred people attending the event watched with sorrowful and angered eyes. They wanted the violence to stop and all the government did was push young men into unfamiliar neighborhoods to be killed or wounded during the streaks of violence. 

William Crude, the vice president, appeared at a podium as the audience grew silent. The lanky man approached the podium, grabbing the mic with one hand while the other hand rested on the podium. He cleared his throat before starting. “My dear people of America, today is a horrific day. It has been two weeks since the ambush of the president’s convoy. Since then, we have been tracing down the kidnapper or kidnappers and the president’s current location. As of now, no demands have been made by the kidnappers. However, he will be found no matter what.” Crude glanced at one of his heavily geared soldiers---standing some distance away from him---that acted as his personal unit of bodyguards. “Today, I have created a task force known as ‘Task Force 147’ in retaliation against the kidnappers. The task force will be in charge of tracking down the president’s location and revealing the identity of the kidnapper. Please, if you have any information about these kidnappers, then call 1-800-TIPS.” Crude ordered, slightly smirking.

“Until then, we can only wait for our dear president to return. Fortunately, America is not without a leader. I’ll be taking his spot until he’s recovered. I will be the 48th President in his absence and the commander in chief moving forward. America will be reconstructed as soon as the riots are forcefully ended. The military has been acting on my orders up to the point, so I suggest showing them some courtesy as they aren’t in your cities to ransack you, but protect you from the rioters, murderers, and other dangerous people. They will dispel the riots and end the terror that plagues us! We will thrive! We will win! We will survive!” He declared, receiving applause from the audience in front of him. The cameras continued to roll, watching from afar as Crude raised his hand to address the audience before turning around and heading into the building behind him. His public bodyguards and secret service followed behind him. The reporters and audience were ushered out of the area by soldiers and police officers. The area was swept clean within a few minutes.

Once inside, Crude passed by several other high-level personnel. One of them remarked, “can’t wait to see your ‘We Will’ speech imprinted in history books’, as he walked by.

My speech will replace the speeches of old. Say goodbye to the Gettysburg Address and the I Have A Dream speech. The only speech that will remain in textbooks will be mine. The only historical figure that’s allowed to be on pages will be mine. I will rule America then the world. Crude thought as he approached a petite lady in front of him, dressed in black armor. The armor had a metallic appearance that appeared smooth and durable. 

“Dennel?” He questioned her.

The petite lady took her helmet off, showing her tanned face. She was a Hispanic woman, half a foot shorter than Crude. “Yes, sir?” She asked while saluting

“I have a position that was opened for you. I want to know if