NO BULLETS (Epilogue)
BHC Mansion, New York State
Two weeks after the Chicago shooting…
It was Sunday night, and the Black Hellfire Court was having their monthly dinner meeting in the Formal Dining Room. The BHC now had a full roster, and team members. Storm and DarkFallenAngel had filled the two Outer Court positions, and Red Bishop was the Headmaster.
Justin Mills, a.k.a. DarkWolf, the Black King, sat at the head of the table. On the opposite side sat Rogue, the Black Queen, and down the sides were the members of the BHC. He heard a snippet of conversation between Ben (a.k.a. HavocOne, the Black Bishop) and Greg, the Black Rook, and laughed. He started to say something as he put down his drink, but his hand never reached the table. His arms locked up and his back arched, and the harsh vibration pulsed up and down his spine again, harsher, and more painfully than before. His teeth clenched, and he heard someone grunting and gurgling; it was himself.
When the vibration stopped and released his body, his head went forward and his arms hit the table. It had left him weak, and hurting. Opening his eyes, he could see that no one was talking. Some were staring at him, curious and concerned, and some were trying to be polite by not looking. This had never happened in front of them before.
Suddenly he was aware of the coppery taste of blood that had filled his mouth since the vibration had stopped, and he could feel a tiny rivulet of that blood trickling out of his mouth and down his chin, landing on the table in little drops.
What the hell is going on with me?
He stood up and left the table, walking to the nearest restroom, where he rinsed his mouth out with Listerine and spat blood until it stopped coming up.
END NO BULLETS (Epilogue)
"All around the world statues crumble for me..."
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