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by Craig Rettig
Part 1 of Enmity

In agony we are now
Twisted unblessed we must strive...
Repulsed by the false harmony
Blinded by truth that eyes can't
hope to see
Rapture Paradise Lost

What of this anger now
Received to lance your energy
I feel the energy
The poison moves in me
I spill blood
Rapture Morbid Angel

"Wake up, Alex! Breakfast!"

Alex shifted uncomfortably under the sheets. Eight A.M. came too quickly as it was, but living with a cheery morning person made it that much worse.

Rachel popped her head through the doorway, "Hey, sleepyhead, you're going to be late for work!"

"Tell ya what," muttered Alex, running his right hand through his hair and squinting, "why don't you let me sleep for another half hour, and I'll just eat at work."

"Because I spent the last hour getting these crepes just perfect, and you swore to me last night before you left to have 'only one beer' that you'd be up this morning to enjoy them." Rachel put her hands on her hips. "Now get up, rinse that whiskey film out of your mouth and get in the kitchen."

Alex's eyes opened a little more. "But I didn't..."

"Uh-huh," Rachel interrupted, her eyes narrowing. "Tell me, since when does only one beer have you sitting in the living room debating with yourself about whether the color blue looks the same to everyone?"

Alex snarled under his breath. He hated when she did that. She was getting to know him too well. "All right," he grunted reluctantly, "I'm movin', but these things better be damn good."

"You'd better say so, at least, after the time I put into them," Rachel said, smiling almost evilly. She turned and walked back to the kitchen.

The crepes were damn good. Despite his slightly churning stomach, Alex couldn't help but shove them into his mouth at an almost alarming rate. "Damn, these are good," he said, nodding his head at Rachel.

"Alex, you've been putting them away so fast, I'm surprised they're even touching your tongue," Rachel replied sarcastically, but smiling. "Of course, you probably only like them because I put wine in the raspberry sauce."

"Trying to tell me I have a drinking problem?" Alex said, washing a mouthful down with his coffee.

"Gee, let me think," Rachel replied, rolling her eyes back. "I seem to remember just last weekend someone winning two drinking bouts back-to-back with 100-proof whiskey."

"You know, I've seen you put away quite a few of those nasty Bloody Marys you drink in your time, also."

Rachel stared at Alex. "Let me clear something up for you. One shot of 80-proof vodka, mixed with something else over a half-hour period does not even come close to one shot of 100-proof whiskey every minute for over an hour. Christ, you almost killed that one guy."

"Hey, he could have quit any time," shrugged Alex. "Can I help it my Omega genes give me an enhanced tolerance?"



"It's 9:15."

Alex looked at the clock, and jumped up. "Shit, I've gotta run--literally. Um..."

Rachel sighed. "I guess you're sticking me with the dishes again, eh?"

"Sure, June," Alex said, grinning sarcastically.

"One more 'Aunt June' reference, and I'll show you a 'Cleaver' you won't forget. Does the name 'Bobbitt' mean anything to you?"

A look of fear washed over Alex's face, and he put his hands up. "Sorrysorrysorry...won'thappenagain...youlooklovelytoday...Iloveyou..."

"Go, already."

Alex got up and gave Rachel a passionate kiss. "The crepes really were wonderful. I'll see you when I get off?"

Rachel smiled, "It had better be me."

"Are you trying to get me to call in sick?" Alex prodded, his male tendencies making themselves evident.


"All right, see you later."

As Alex closed the door behind him, Rachel sighed. Life had changed for the both of them since their initial meeting. She started gathering up the dishes and put them into the sink. "Look at me," she said aloud, "I'm domestic now." She laughed to herself, and began drawing water to let the pans soak.

"F'ckin' tragedy, innit?"

Rachel spun around, only to see the butt of a large handgun connect with her forehead.

Charlotte Gillian holstered her Eagle, shaking her head. "Sorry, chippie, but I owe your boyfriend."

In space, no one can here you scream. Unfortunately, it's the same way with a piece of duct tape over your mouth. Rachel struggled at the tape holding her to the chair, but to no avail. Her head also hurt where the woman sitting across the room had whacked her.

"Wakey, wakey, chippie," the woman said, an evil grin on her face. The woman then pulled a Beretta out of her jacket and began screwing on a silencer.

"You're prolly askin' yourself, 'Why?' Well, it comes down to, I can't get Alex directly. Besides, I think this'll get a w'ole lot more of a reaction out of 'im. That, and it's fun."

The woman began advancing towards her, stopping about a foot away, putting the barrel of the gun against her forehead.

"Nighty, night."

Charlotte always hated the way the blood splattered back in her face after a head shot. She then taped a note to the girl's corpse and let herself out of the building.

Alex was tired. Working all day sucked as it was, but a constantly resurfacing hangover made it even worse. He wanted to just go home, curl up with Rachel, and go to sleep. However, it didn't look like things were going to be that way. He read the note one more time.

"To Alex--
With luv,

Alex lashed out again, this time destroying the TV and the couch. He wanted to call the cops, but he had trashed the phone and part of a wall in his first outburst. Alex, mentally exhausted, dropped to his knees.


Alex pounded his fists into the floor and began crying angrily.


Alex spun around...and just about emptied his bowels. There stood Rachel, or rather, a transluscent, glowing Rachel, looking rather pissed off.

"What the...?" Alex stammered, wondering if he had finally gone insane.

"You let them kill me, Alex. Why couldn't you have killed them first? Why are you such a wuss?"

Alex was sure he had gone mad by this point. "D-Did it hurt?"

"Alex, they killed me, for Christ's sake! No, it didn't hurt! Actually, it was quite liberating. At first it was confusing as hell, sitting there, wondering why this bitch had blood all over her face, and watching her walk away. Then I realized I was dead and walked out of my body. Of course, your little tirade was quite impressive. Who knew you cared that much?"

"I told you I loved you. So...ghosts exist?"

The figure before him twisted her expression. "Ghosts? Is that what you think I am? Do you do any reading at all, other than those damned comic books? Haven't you read the theories on Omega physiology? How some scientists speculate Omegas of great power exist on the psionic astral level when they die?"

"You're an...?"

"What other explanation is there? Alex, come here. Let's get that bitch who killed me. No, let's get everyone who ever fucked with the life of any other Omega."

Alex, now completely oblivious to logic, stood up. "Why not?" He said to himself. "Yeah...let's do it." Alex walked over to the apparition of Rachel and embraced it, but the apparition didn't hug back, it only melded with him, her emotions becoming intermingled with his. Both strings of emotions volleyed back and forth for a few nanoseconds, until one that was common to both sides was found.


The being that was now both Alex and Rachel stood in the room, analyzing itself on both the mental and physical level. The side that was Alex looked out the window and saw strains of energy emanating from the city. His hand reached out and grabbed at a portion of the energy, shaping it into a dagger.

"This is what your power was like."

"This isn't my energy I'm shaping."

"You mean...?"

"You must have been an Omega booster of some sort."

"And now we are one."

"Someone dies."

Alex/Rachel looked at the wall. A battering ram shot out of their form, knocking a ten-foot hole in the wall. The entity walked out through the hole onto the street.

It then manifested the form of a bird around itself.

"Orange sucks...change the color."

"To what?"


"That's right...Raven."

The bird-form began darkening in color, stopping at a shade of black which seemed to almost absorb the light in the area. Then it took off into the air, laughing like a madman.

And I will put enmity between thee and the woman..."


Four girls come back claiming to be Rachel, but which one is the real one?
Just kidding.
After running through some of the other Omega titles, Enmity concludes in Loner #10.

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