"I did not Fight Tooth and Nail just to come Crawling back here to be someone's Bitch!
I Demand POWER!"

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A WRITCO Horror Thriller

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"You think you've seen it all, huh?" A deep, gravelly voice echoed in the dingy bar, cutting through the murmur of patrons. The speaker, a burly black man named Bishop, leaned against the counter, his long beard and hair a stark contrast to his clean-cut leather attire. His eyes gleamed with secrets as he spoke to the skeptical bartender.

"Bullsh*t, man," the bartender, a short, balding man with a thick mustache, scoffed, wiping a glass with a dirty rag. "This city's seen everything. Nothing surprises me anymore."

Bishop chuckled, a low rumble that seemed to shake the very foundations of the bar. "Oh, but you ain't seen nothin' yet," he said, his voice carrying a hint of ancient wisdom. "Back when the world was young, the gods and demons threw down like you wouldn't believe. Archangels Michael and Raphael, they booted ol' Lucifer and his boys outta heaven, and let me tell you, it was a show to end all shows."

The bartender rolled his eyes. "Look, pal, if you're trying to sell me a ticket to your comic book convention, I'm not buying."

"This ain't no comic book shit," Bishop retorted, slamming his fist down on the counter. "This is the real deal. The very fabric of existence was torn apart. The gods, they made these perfect hybrids to replace their fallen angels. And what does...