Carlos stood on the ground struggling. He began to feel his skin burn from the hot sun. William stood laughing ten yards from him, holding the torn piece of Carlos' vampire cloak in his hand.
"I never thought I could finish you so easily." William said, batting his gargoyle wings admirably.
Carlos stared straight ahead at William in dismay. He could not fathom losing at this moment. He reminded himself of needing to stop William before the Werewolf lord awakened. William could not gain any more power. He was already too dangerous. Carlos gathered up his strength and stood straight. His skin immediately burst into flames and he let out a growl in pain.
Carlos was now on his knees, his hands in the dirt and his face looking to the ground. The demonic entity inside him was thrashing for freedom. The demon thought at that moment that Carlos was going to die. Death for Carlos meant death for the demon. The sheer power of the demon was difficult for Carlos to handle. Carlos summoned up what holy power he could to keep the demon at bay, and to prevent possession. At looking ahead, Carlos saw William smiling, not having moved a step.
The demon now struggled to free itself with all its might. Carlos floated up in the air, growling. The demon's voice started to come through more and more as Carlos levitated high above the ground.
"I'm glad you will make this at least a challenge!" William screamed up into the air.
Carlos was doing his best to fill his body up with holy energy. This would be the worst time to let the demon take over, yet Carlos felt it near complete possession.
"Don't try to stop it. Holy and demonic are like oil and water. Your body will tear to pieces."
Carlos let out a last effort. A highly audible demonic growl escaped him, and dust came flying up in the air rapidly.
William shielded his eyes from the dust and waited for the thump of Carlos' body hitting the ground. A moment later and there was not a sound but the wind blowing. William squinted up into the dust cloud and became startled and shocked. In this dust cloud was a dark angelic figure, wings spread and floating, towering at around ten feet. The presence of it was not angelic, yet not demonic. The presence was purely dark and ominous. The presence of death.
"I am an angel of death." Said the figure. The voice was a powerful hiss. It came to William's ears as if being spoken into directly from both sides, and from the sound of a thousand people standing in a stadium, and from a person standing straight in front. The voice alone immediately turned all the fear on to William.