Chapter 22 – Shadows and Bloodlines
The night air hung heavy over Liberty City, a suffocating weight of fog and neon that refracted the distant sirens into a haunting symphony. H.I.M moved like a phantom along the rooftops, his presence a ripple of darkness that seemed to swallow every light in its path. Tonight, his target was no ordinary criminal, no faceless politician—this was personal. His eyes narrowed as he glimpsed the figure ahead: the man who had betrayed him long ago, the one whose hands once held trust and loyalty. Jack Stellman.
Jack's silhouette shimmered under the moonlight, his dark blade glinting faintly as he prepared for confrontation. The air seemed to crackle with the tension of two forces ready to collide. H.I.M descended, shadow tendrils curling around him like serpents hungry for flesh, and in that instant, the city seemed to hold its breath.
"Jack Stellman," H.I.M murmured, voice low and ice-cold, a whisper that could have carried through the entire district. "You always did know how to make an entrance."
Jack didn't respond. His grip tightened on the dark blade, his eyes reflecting the moonlight with a steely determination. He had trained for moments like this, but nothing could prepare him for the overwhelming aura emanating from H.I.M. The shadows writhed around H.I.M, forming jagged, obsidian tendrils that clawed toward Jack.
Without hesitation, Jack slashed his blade through the darkness. The shadows hissed and screamed as they met the edge of the dark steel. Each strike was precise, cutting through the living shadows like a scythe through fog, and H.I.M recoiled momentarily, a faint grin tugging at his lips.
"You've grown," H.I.M said, his voice eerily calm. "But you forget… this sword carries a devil of its own."
In an instant, H.I.M's devil stirred, recognizing the sword's lineage and the latent energy coursing through it. Shadows surged violently, striking Jack's arm with the force of a hundred serpents coiling around bone. Pain shot through him like lightning as H.I.M's tendrils coiled around the very hand that wielded the blade.
Jack's scream cut through the night, raw and desperate. The blade fell from his severed hand, clattering against the rooftop, a metallic echo of the life he had just lost. Blood dripped in slow, crimson streaks, falling onto the wet concrete below. H.I.M stepped forward, shadows rippling like black waves, ready to finish the job.
But just as his clawed hand lunged for the fatal strike, a figure shot from the darkness, moving with the precision and desperation of someone who had been pushed to the edge of mortality. John Stellman, battered and pale from days of sickness, stood between H.I.M and his brother.
"Not today," John growled, eyes blazing with a mix of fury and fear.
H.I.M froze for the briefest heartbeat, studying the man who had once been a friend, a comrade, and now an obstacle to his vengeance. The shadows recoiled slightly, aware of the bond between the brothers, but it was not enough to diminish their potency.
With an explosive surge, John parried H.I.M's strike, sending a shockwave of dark energy tearing through the air. The rooftop quaked beneath their feet, shards of concrete scattering like shards of a broken world. Jack, despite his grievous injury, crawled behind his brother, gripping his remaining arm around his body, teeth gritted against the pain.
"You think a blade, a shadow, or fear can stop me?" H.I.M whispered, voice cold as ice. "I am more than vengeance. I am inevitability."
John's reply was silent, letting his resolve do the speaking. He clutched Jack to his chest, moving with the precision of a swordsman who had stared death in the eye countless times. In a flurry of calculated movements, they dodged and weaved through the tendrils of darkness, each step punctuated by sparks and screams of shadowed energy being severed by John's remaining sword.
Finally, finding a momentary gap in the shadows, John propelled Jack to safety, both of them landing on the adjacent rooftop. H.I.M's eyes followed them, the faintest curve of a smile revealing his anticipation.
"You escape for now," he said softly, almost to himself. "But every shadow I cast, every whisper of darkness… it leads to you. Jack Stellman. And one day, I will have you."
The brothers looked back just once. Jack, pale and trembling, met H.I.M's gaze, and in it, he saw not just vengeance, but a promise. A storm that would not relent until every debt was settled.
H.I.M melted into the darkness, shadows retracting like smoke being drawn into an unseen furnace. The city lights flickered back into place, the night returning to its haunting normalcy. Yet in the hearts of John and Jack, a single thought burned like wildfire: this battle had ended, but the war… was only beginning.
And somewhere, high above the rooftops, H.I.M's eyes glowed, cold and calculating. His hand moved over the pendant he had hidden beneath his cloak, tracing the edges of the shadows that whispered his name. The hunt was far from over.
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