Punched by an Angel
by Henry Wyckoff

A crossover between Kung Fu: The Legend Continues, Millennium, and Touched by an Angel

Chapter 17

Peter and Frank shook their heads in disgust at the media circus outside. Not only were there rabid reporters hounding them at all moments, but there was word that the infomercial and home-shopping cable channels were starting to sell Killer of the Angels memorabilia; semi-automatic musket rifles, tee shirts saying "I ain't no Angel!" and authentic Latro trenchcoats ('For the Angel-killer in you!').

"Frank? Have you ever wondered if we deserve to be doomed as a race because of people like that?"

Frank snickered at that one, "Peter, I have no idea!"

They entered the office area, and that was when a frantic rookie caught them. "Peter! That guy you have in lockup! He escaped!"


"You won't believe this, but he managed to get Latro's axe and cut his way out! Then he killed everyone who got in his way!"

Peter's face sunk in his hands. "Why am I not surprised? All right . . . did anyone manage to follow him?"

"You won't like this, but he's loose in the building!"

Frank and Peter looked at one another.

* * *

Arioch looked skeptical. He wore a patch over his eye, and the axe really fit with the overall image. "So let's get this straight . . . you're the genuine article, and you're waging a war against God?"

Odin nodded, "Yes. The Latro whom you love so dearly was working with me, but he got this irritating change of heart for who knows what reason. I figured that if you're fallen, you wouldn't mind some extracurricular activities!"

Arioch smiled, "Killing Latro was on the top of my list anyway, but I really don't mind having some extra help." He drew his blade with the other hand. "What do you think?"

"Absolutely smashing!"

* * *

Latro listened to the commotion. Arioch was loose, most likely with Odin's help. Odin wasn't kidding about turning his coat. Or was it Latro who'd taken off his own? It didn't matter now.

"What should I do . . . "

It was easy. Two choices. Put Arioch down for good and get arrested for good. Walking away would be the easier choice.

"Walking and running is what I've always done."

What made it hard was knowing that no matter what he did, he would not be accepted or believed by anyone. So he got rid of Arioch. Just another murder charge. He walked away, and he got hounded by the law for a generation or two. Maybe longer, if the detectives in charge of the case started believing what they heard.

"There has to be a way . . . "

He looked at his hands. He wasn't an evil man, he knew. He just wanted God to talk to him. Prayer was a waste of time, and the Bible was a self-conflicting jumble of oral histories. It wasn't even the unaltered word it was billed as, or else why would the Apocrypha exist?

"What's happening to me?"

Mindless rage and sadness had driven him, but in the last few hours, they'd melted away, only to be replaced by more sadness, along with a clarity he hadn't had in a long time. Killing was all he knew, but now he found he was questioning himself.

* * *

A loud and extended scream suddenly gathered everyone's attention.

"He's down there!" yelled one cop, leading a group of others down the hall. It was a mob scene, with more people than the hallway could fit trying to get one man.

Arioch sneered, "Mortals!"

* * *

Peter and Frank were a little late to the scene. They could see the familiar blue energy filling up all the holes that the bullets had made in the suspect's body. Arioch was laughing. "It looks like your buddies won't be coming back. They went on a trip," he imitated someone falling down, "feet first!" He laughed a little bit more.

"Screw this!" Peter emptied his clip into Arioch.

It was like watching a marionette on speed. Arioch flipped around until he hit the wall, but he shrugged it off. "This is getting a little tiring."

Frank emptied his own clip into Arioch.

"That does it." Shadows covered Arioch's eye. "You're dead meat!"

Yelling, he seemed to fly over the dead bodies as he charged at Peter, his axe and sword flying with him.

Peter shoved Frank out of the way, and was frustrated to realize that this guy really knew what he was doing. Peter could hold his own against most punks, and even a few of the Sing Wa, but Arioch was so good that it was all he could do to keep himself from getting skewered or chopped into bits and pieces.

"You're pathetic, cop." Arioch shook his head. "You think kung fu is any good against good steel?"

The axe landed in the wall, and Arioch couldn't pull it back out in time to avoid the kick to the groin. Silently, he sunk to his knees, but he kept hold of his sword.

"Yes," Peter smiled. A solid punch to the neck send him to the floor.

Arioch groaned, "That's where you're wrong." He got back up.

"He's right," said a new voice down the hall. Kermit walked down the hallway towards Arioch, without his shades. Peter didn't ever recall seeing Kermit without them. The effect was eerie. "Kung fu won't do it, but I have your number." He stared firing from his hand-cannon, "Six!" Six shots fired in near-automatic speed. He reloaded. "Six!" Six more. "Six!"

Arioch yelled in frustration, pulling himself up from where he had collapsed against the wall. "You're worse than Lilliputians! Don't you ever quit?" He attacked Peter once more with only his sword, but this time, Frank emptied a new clip into him at the same time. "I'M GOING TO SLICE YOUR ARMS OFF WITH A DULL BUTTER KNIFE!"

"How about a magic trick instead?

Arioch spun around at the tap on his left shoulder. Without even knowing why, he howled with pain. To everyone's surprise, Latro had returned on his own. He didn't quite finish the job he'd started back in lockup, but Arioch soon wished otherwise. Arioch was on his knees, holding his hands over the other hole in his face. "I'M BLIND! YOU TOOK MY EYE!"

"Presto! Now you're a Hodr look-alike. You better know how to use the Force, 'cause that's the only way you're using a sword now."

* * *

Andrew watched the TV. Things were now coming to a head, it seemed.

"In this last half hour, a most unprecedented eventhas taken place. The man in lockup, held for breaking into the precinct and attempting to kill Latro, has been placed back into custody. He was holding the precinct hostage, and had killed over twenty police officers until Detectives Caine and Black overpowered him with the help of a certain individual.

"In a curious turn of events, it was Latro, returning to the scene, who was instrumental in helping to subdue the man, who has now been identified as 'Arioch'. On securing Arioch, Latro surrendered himself to Detective Caine, and once more has refused any legal aid.

"All the experts are baffled as to why an alleged serial killer would act in this totally uncharacteristic manner, and many believe that it is merely a strategic move, but to gain what? We are unable to gain any insight from Latro himself, because he has refused all interviews. There is speculation that Latro will get life in prison without parole, but reports say that Latro doesn't mind in the slightest . . . "

Andrew snorted. To a man who was doomed to walk forever, any prison stay would be but an eyeblink.

"How you doing, Angel boy?" It was Tess.

"Not bad, for being shot by a lead ball. What are you doing here?"

"Just checking up and seeing if you learned your lesson yet."


Tess smiled wickedly, "Nothing happens without reason. There are times when Angels have to learn lessons as much as mortals do. Sometimes, even the cursed and the fallen have very good lessons to teach. I'd say that you've certainly listened quite a bit."

"Did you have any role in this?" he asked suspiciously.

"More than you'll ever know."

* * * *

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