WICK£D GOD
Wicked God – Chapter 1&2
→Fu+king•With•Death←
Gods of Death Duet-Book One
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WARNING: This book is contracted, strictly under protection of NAY PUBLISHERS. Copying and stealing any part of the manuscript will attract pursuit of legal action
Copyright © 2026
©Naomi Cindy B.
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★
The night felt pregnant, and it didn’t look like it was gonna give birth to anything worth keeping.
Everything signified the weirdness of the darkness. Not like darkness ever carried good news in this part of New Orleans, but tonight was colder.
The air was warm and heavy, carrying the mingled scents of rain-soaked brick, old wood, spices, fried food, and the Mississippi River
The breeze bit wickedly. The pattering rain threatened to crush buildings. The thunder tearing through the sky felt like a curse.
Yet, the streets is full of people flooding from street to street. Some running some walking slowly like they weren’t feeling the strokes of the downpour, some playing lovers.
And mouths are still talking about the early occurrence today—the fatal accident at the old warehouse road which claimed the lives of five people and put three people in coma.
It’d have meant nothing as accidents happen many times, and people die, but this was different.
The three people in coma are fighters from the two popular fighting Team in this city. Team Dread and Enigma.
These two powerful rivalling Teams basically rule this city.
Immediately their coma state was announced at noon, posters filled the streets from their supporters.
EL CROW MUST NOT DIE!
BRING SKYLAR BACK FROM COMA!
ROSELLE MUST LIVE!
Many of the posters have been torn by the rain thuds, and now the tattered pieces struggle to stay glued to the street walls, but the bold block words stayed intact.
On the road, a imposing Mercedes Maybach looked like the fastest car driving tonight, and the faces of the two people inside have hard lines carved deeply from urgency.
“Shall I wound down the window, Satan?” The driver’s voice floated from behind the wheel.
The figure sitting at the backseat didn’t respond. The dim light in the car slashed across her face.
Short hair. Hard face like it was drawn from all unpleasant things existing. Smooth suit and a wristwatch shaped like a bird.
“The street air is too polluted to take in right now, Midnight.” She replied in a mind-numbing voice. “I still don’t know if I have to mourn my daughter Roselle, or my best fighter Skylar. They’ve been reported dead, we only spilled fake news of their coma to the public to avoid an uproar.”
She rubbed her bird-shaped wristwatch as she talked.
“We spread coma news because we have a solution to bring them back,” Midnight slowed the car. “When we bring them back from the dead, it’ll look like they woke from coma.”
That statement felt like a planned move as he rotated the car to a stop in front of an old storey building with no light nor life attached to it.
Midnight’s shoes touched the ground first, then he pulled the backdoor.
Satan stepped out, and a few strands of her short hair fell on her brow as she looked at the lifeless house.
Her stare was drawn away by the zooming in of another black car to the house front.
A tall male in glasses stepped down, opened the backdoor, and an older man popped out from the backseat.
He wore a customized suit that has his name on the shoulder—Arturo.
Boss of Team Enigma.
At his sight, Satan took a poisonously scorching look at him.
It’s impossible to hide the resentment anytime the rival Bosses meet.
“Let’s get in, Castle.” Arturo said to the male in glasses who instantly followed his lead into the lightless building.
Satan and Midnight moved too, stepping into the house which felt like it drowned them in.
Inside, the darkness was more suffocating, more draining. It felt like the more they walked in the dark, the more they lost their senses of what the outside world felt like.
They couldn’t even touch the walls to trace their steps since there were no walls. The building was an endless, mysterious universe.
After walking for minutes they didn’t count, candles flicked on from nowhere, and the four people came to an instant halt.
The fire from the candles burned round like moonshine, and heat stole the atmosphere as the light caught three different round tables.
On each table, there’s a body.
El Crow on the first table.
His blonde hair, lip-ring, dark tattoos and his mouthside stitch scar are a testament to his evil self.
Skylar on the second table. Her bangs and nose-ring are a bold signature to her defiance and deviousness.
Roselle on the third table. Her white hair and bitter face a endless cliff.
And they’re all dead.
No breaths. No pulse. No heartbeats.
They’ve been dead since the accident at noon.
“El Crow,” Arturo called worriedly, touching the dead male’s face with a strong father’s affection.
“I still don’t understand how he was in the same bus as two female Dreads. We Enigmas are supposed to have nothing to do with Dreads.” Castle wondered loudly, face cold.
At the other two tables, Satan and Midnight stood side by side.
Satan leaned down to Roselle’s body, touching her white hair with the most sinister motherly fondness.
While Skylar was the best fighter in her Team Dread, Roselle her daughter was the second best.
“You’re going nowhere, daughter.” Satan purred with a tight face, stroking Roselle’s hair. “You’re coming back to me.”
She straightened and turned to the other table where Skylar lay.
“When you wake up, you better have a clear explanation for why you and Roselle were in the same bus with an Enigma. Or you’ll wish you died.”
“Where the hell is Ayana?” Midnight’s voice sounded on edge.
Another round of candles burned on the three tables, rounding each body. They burned so bright everyone had to move back from the tables.
Out of the shadows, an entity stepped into the light. An old woman who has white for eyes, supporting her figure with a thick thorny-head walking cane that’s taller than her.
She wore a long green dress which swept the floor as she walked, the sound of her cane against the floor causing the candles to flicker.
A equally green cape covered her head, and her face was clouded by a dark mist, but her presence perched on everything alive around.
“You promised to bring them back to life, Ayana.” Arturo spoke. “So we sent them here.”
“You sent them to the right place,” Ayana eased from behind the mist. “Their souls left their bodies since noon, but the souls are still on a journey to the land of the dead.”
“Well do something to call them back!” Satan snapped.
“I’ll call their souls back, and send them to Aftermoor.” Ayana hummed.
“Aftermoor?” Midnight’s face folded.
“It’s an AfterDeath Establishment, run by Inferno—one of the angels banned from the pit of hell. He’ll assign them tasks to carry out. Their return to life depends on their abilities to do it.”
“There’s no task too hard for El Crow.” Castle said. “That devil.”
“Send him over to Aftermoor, now!” Arturo impatiently added.
“Skylar is a persistent, insane bitch who’d do anything to live.” Midnight murmured.
“And Roselle is my daughter who’ll even pluck out her own eyes to eat. She’ll survive.” Satan assured.
“Sending them now.” Ayana let go of her walking cane easily.
The heavy cane left the ground, and the mist on her face cleared off, following the cane as it began floating and rolling in the air.
Ayana’s white eyes wound up, and her mouth moved fast as she chanted in an unknown language.
A heavy rainfall started inside the building, heavier than the downpour raging outside. The candles went off, and darkness took over again.
—
[Dread House]
Dread House belongs to Team Dread. A building where all Dread Team members live as a family.
It’s a large, brown building, carved mightily somewhere in the French Quarters, welcoming the sound of street performers and jazz bars and bands even this late at night.
Even in the pouring rain, Dreads could be seen going for their preparatory warmups in groups.
Since the coma of Roselle and Skylar have been announced, warmups have been taken serious by Dreads who dream of taking over the two spots if they later die.
Rosita stood at the wide, cobblestoned balcony of the house, black umbrella between her palm.
She’s in her tights and hoodie, ready to go for warmups in the arena down the street, but her eyes look too glued to the threads of rain.
“Rosita…”
She felt like someone was calling her name, but not so sure.
“Rosita…”
The sound came again, but her eyes refused to leave the rain.
“Rosita!”
This time, she was able to look away and turn around slightly to see Quincy and Renee behind.
Rosita didn’t talk. She only gave them questioning stares.
“You look like you’re dressed for warmups,” Quincy said, his eyes staring shortly at her umbrella.
“And?” Rosita sounded icy.
“Your twin sister Roselle is in coma.” Renee blinked. “Coma!”
“If you both are so concerned about my twin sister, go jump off a building and join her in coma.” Rosita’s words stabbed like a shard.
She entered the rain, umbrella over her head, walking off.
“I can never get used to her coldness. Her or Skylar, I don’t know who’s worse.” Quincy shook his head.
“At least Rosita has little bit of human feelings. I hate Skylar’s inhumanity, and I hope she dies in coma, for real.” Renee raised her shoulders.
“Wishing someone death in this heavy rain?” Quincy scoffed. “You still want the omelette or not?”
He went back in, and Renee rushed back after him.
The balcony became empty again.
Usually, it’s packed and busy at this time of the night if there’s no fight in the ring, but the coma news is hitting everyone hard in places.
The balcony is not entirely empty though. At the corner, a weed blunt sat on the lips of a guy whose face was hidden by one of the pillars.
Roy.
Smokes surrounded him like ghosts, and his head rested on the wall.
“Skylar has to die.” Was what he said before taking another drag.
—
[Enigma House]
The Enigma House is right beside Dread House.
The space between the two houses is only enough to park a little car, and despite the temptation, Dreads are forbidden from entering Enigma House, and Enigmas are forbidden from entering Dread House.
The enmity of the Teams is so twisted one could get sucked into oblivion while trying to dig into it.
The houses look the same except the colors. While Dread House is brown, Enigma House is maroon color.
On the wide unusually silent balcony, Blade and Bishop stood together, hands in their pockets as they stared at the angry rain.
Grief already settled between them like a bleeding truth, and their hands felt sweaty in their pockets.
“Do you think El Crow is gonna die?” They suddenly asked at the same time without planning to.
“Geez,” Blade mouthed, leaning on the edge of the rails. “I can’t imagine this Team without Crow.”
“But ours is still better,” Bishop shrugged. “I mean, we only lost El Crow to coma, not including Castle who’s our second best fighter, or you who’s our third best. We still have aces in our Team, but Dreads? They lost both Skylar and Roselle….”
“Now that you talked about it,” Blade let out a small chuckle. “But don’t forget their bastard Roy is still alive, and Rosita the ice is still alive too. Dreads have aces just the way we do, don’t rejoice yet, let’s just hope El returns from coma soon.”
Bishop’s shoulders sagged.
“You’re right, but where the hell are the others? Castle? Kent? Lovato?”
“Castle followed Boss Arturo somewhere.” Blade said.
“Lovato and Kent?” Bishop asked.
“No idea,” Blade shrugged.
Bishop pulled his phone out, dialling Lovato. Blade got his phone to dial Kent’s line too.
— — — —
[Aftermoor – Trial Woods]
Under the canopy of a nameless tree, a soul lay sprawled like a starfish. Arms and legs apart, eyes tightly shut and advertising the long lashes, nose-ring carefully round below the nose, hair tangled on grass and her joggers stained with sand.
The woods was bone-chillingly dark. No fireflies, no little ants from the soil, no winged insects from the trees. It looked like the tree roots were taking nutrients from nothingness.
The environment looked deserted, but it’s drizzling. The precipitation formed a thin flow of water across a pointing leaf which dripped down and fell on the cheek of the soul.
Her eyes opened.
Getting her bearings, taking in her surroundings, and standing to her feet took barely a minute.
Her head hurts at the side, and her palm flew up to grab it.
“Ah!” Her moan was painful, and a rush of memories followed.
She was in the bus with two Dreads who’re her enemies.
She hates El Crow like crazy, but Roselle disgusts her too.
They were both in the bus with her and several other people before the bus tumbled and somersaulted several times on the road, and…
Wait.
And what?
And what???
“And you died, and your soul was sent here by someone who desperately wants you to live.” A voice broke through her thoughts.
She whipped around, trying to catch where the voice came from in the dead woods, but nothing.
She looked stranded alone in this strange purgatory.
“Who are you? Where am I? What the heck is going on?!”
Her voice carried through the woods, but no reply followed—as if the voice owner was waiting for her to process her thoughts with her own head.
She looked at herself slowly, eyes scanning through her long legs and boot shoes, up to the arms.
“I’m dead? And I’m looking at my own soul right now? Meaning; my dead body is intact somewhere in the human world?” She analyzed.
“I knew you were a smart one, Skylar Vox.” The hidden voice came again.
Skylar’s lips snarled up. She didn’t bother looking around anymore since it’s obvious the voice owner wasn’t gonna show himself anytime soon.
“Who. Are. You?!” She spat like a venomous snake.
— — — —
[Other Side]
Beside a sinking hole, lay Roselle who might be sinking into the hole anytime soon, but her instincts shot into action fast.
Her eyes peeled open, and she rolled off the edge before the hole sank in.
She rose on her feet and took two more steps back, brushing her rough white hair away from her face.
“You’re a dead soul in this realm called Aftermoor—an AfterDeath Establishment. If you desire your aliveness, prepare for your task.” A voice boiled in her ears immediately.
“Oh God!” Roselle gasped, sight stretching. “I died in the accident?”
She shoved two hands in her hair, nearly pulling off her scalp.
“Damn! Skylar! Skylar caused that accident! I’m gonna end her sorry arse if I ever get outta here!”
She moved upwards, crossing trees and rocks and jumping stunts, creating creaks and rustles in the silence till she reached the side of a small rock where she jumped down to another soul.
A soul she definitely wants to see.
El Crow.
F+king El Crow.
Part of his weight rested on the ground, and his back rested on the rock, totally. His eyes were closed, expression monstrous even in his state of unconsciousness.
As usual, that dark stitch scar beside his mouth looked like a retribution. Rather than making him ugly, it made him illegally attractive.
Roselle went on a knee immediately, breaths uneven and high.
He’s here too, meaning someone is also trying to bring him back to life.
“El Crow,”
She reached for his face, but the ring rule jingled in her head.
“Dreads will have nothing to do with Enigmas outside the ring. Likewise how Enigmas will have nothing to do with Dreads outside the ring.”
It’s the voice of Satan—her mother.
This same rule was the reason she had been holding herself back.
It was the reason she had been trying so hard to hide her love.
But now in this unknown horizon where there are no rules—yet. She can try to touch the enemy.
She reached for his face and touched the jaw, feeling his hot skin under her palm for the first time. Her stomach curled around a foreign heat she doesn’t want to forget.
She liked it.
She craved more.
She wanted more.
And she went for it.
She reined herself in, balancing her lips on top of his own. The heat inside her multiplied, reaching her core.
But it was short.
The kiss was cut immediately she was grabbed by the back of her blouse and tossed away like a needless pain.
It felt like the air and the space jointly carried her.
She landed so far she could smell the distance as she got up.
She lifted her eyes, breathings overflowing, and their eyes met.
He’s up on his tall feet, his right tattoed arm bulging dangerously under his shirt. The distance meant nothing, cos she could feel his muscles breathing under his skin.
She could count the beats beneath his flesh per second.
His eyes weren’t friendly. They’ve never been friendly. They were built from all the consuming darkness of the human race.
And the way he looked at her? It made her skin soak.
His palm went to his lips. He wiped it so hard she could feel the wiping.
But that wasn’t enough for him.
He faced the rock and rubbed his lips on the rock surface till the lips bled.
“You’ll go that far just to wipe my kiss away? Crow!” Roselle’s voice travelled across the distance to him.
He turned again, facing her with the bloody lips, only that his expression was now more acrid, and blood dripped from his lips to his chin.
“You tasted rotten, Satan’s daughter.”
He sounded searing like a hot iron.
Roselle’s teeth bored into her bottom lip, biting hard, bloody.
Thunder slammed into the woods from the unseen sky, breaking the grounds they’re standing on.
With accurate leap, they jumped, and once they were on the other side, their run began.
Their shoes pounded the thick grounds, puncturing the rotting leaves to the pebbles.
Trees flew past their sights, and leaves tore across their peripheral, till they received drizzles on their skins too, signifying the woods middle. Now, the ground breaks is over, and their run met it’s end.
Looking around, they’re not the only people here. There are like twenty of them—young, youth, and old.
And among them, El Crow sighted Skylar first.
While everyone stood, Skylar sat behind a tree, already glaring at him.
When his eyes met hers, a entertained smirk bent his bottom lip deeply, causing his scar to stretch.
This bitch caused the accident that threw them here, and she still had the guts to glare?
Those eyes deserve to be plucked out and shoved up her cunt.
Roselle saw her too, and her anger got reborn instantly.
“You insane bitch!” She spat, ready to go meet her.
“The trial starts now!” The voice shook the woods again.
Roselle stopped.
Skylar stood.
“Rule one!” The voice returned. “You’re to pick an opponent, start a fight, and kill your opponent by stabbing them in the heart, then you earn the chance to go back alive to merge with your body.”
“It’s that simple?” Roselle scoffed.
“You can only kill a soul by making the heart bleed. Make sure you stab your opponent in the heart and kill him permanently. Failure to kill your opponent completely means everlasting heartache for you when you wake up in the human world.”
“Secondly, anyone you had an intimate time with in here is bound to develop a soul bond with you if you both get lucky to wake up alive.”
“Thirdly, if you’re already wounded here, your chance of winning against your opponent is low. A wounded soul is weak.”
Roselle looked at El Crow’s bleeding lips, panicking.
Skylar looked at it, and a smirk found it’s way to her lips.
“And lastly,” the voice went low. “When you kill your opponent and cross the door back to the human world, you’re expected to kill a person every month and send their soul here to fill this place up.”
“When is the fight starting?!” Roselle’s voice rose impatiently.
“For introduction, I’m Inferno, the owner of this establishment.” The voice sounded thicker.
Silence followed.
“The fight can start now.” Inferno announced shortly, and everyone received a dagger on their palms.
A glinting blue dagger with it’s head shaped like an open mouth and the sharp blade a long protruded tongue.
Fog covered the darkness, worsening the realm.
No one could see anyone anymore. You have to walk till you grab someone and make him your opponent for the kill.
Roselle didn’t take more that two steps before she stumbled into a soul in the dark fog. She grabbed whoever it was and went down with him.
Skylar walked the fog for seven long minutes, holding the dagger intact in hand, eyes getting drowsy. The fog was not only for darkening, but also for muddling the senses.
The more she walked without seeing a opponent to grab, the more nonexistent her senses felt.
This place was sucking off her strength, and it’s not…
She hitched on her thoughts when she bumped into someone in the fog, and her arms did the immediate grab, gripping your opponent.
Together, they slumped back violently.
Her strength returned, and her desire to live sharpened her moves as she calculated to the right, deciding no not use the dagger yet.
She slammed her own back to a tree, and the tree bounced her forward to plunge herself into her opponent.
But her opponent wasn’t a child—it was a known grown man.
He swung a well-planned punch into her stomach, but Skylar was to agile to even sway or grunt. She only staggered on the back of her feet once, then reined herself forward, leaping with her knees bent.
She shoved the knees into the opponent’s shoulders, and he let out a cry of pain which gave his voice away as his body crashed.
El Crow.
“I’ve always known your death would come from me!” Skylar laughed cruelly, pulling out the dagger as she pinned him down with her knees on his chest and stomach.
El Crow remained low under her knees, eyes barely open and lips bleeding like crazy, draining his energy. He looked weaker than weak, ready to cross the death line.
“How about you never show your cramps-inducing face on the earth crust again!” Skylar lifted the dagger, bringing it down to the left part of El Crow’s chest—on top of his heart.
A low growl leaked out of El Crow’s bleeding mouth, but he couldn’t even move to struggle.
By now, the fog has cleared. Every opponent have been killed, and the winners were already standing ready to leave in the middle of the space.
The winners included Roselle whose eyes are wide when she saw Skylar stabbing El Crow.
“Crow!!!!!” She screamed, voice echoing against the trees. “El Crow! Stand up! Crow!!”
She was already running to the scene, but as she ran, she returned to her initial position, meaning; she can’t move forward anymore.
Skylar lifted a side of her face, glancing up at Roselle with a intentionally dark smile.
She twisted the dagger deeper into El Crow’s bloody chest.
Roselle’s nerves burned. She went completely crazier.
The red door back to the human world have appeared behind like a conduit, and the other winners were already running towards it.
Another look at El Crow below Skylar’s dagger, Roselle shrieked.
“I’m going to kill you, Skylar!! I’m going to take your life and rob you of your existence! I’ll kill you!! Crow! Crow!!! Crow please wake up!!!!!!!!”
Her screams faded as the door sucked her in too like the other winners.
Skylar withdrew the dagger from El Crow’s chest, and she didn’t waste time before going for the door.
The door sucked her in, too.
By now, the door should close as the winners have all been sucked in, but it remained open as if a winner was still somewhere in the establishment.
A overly cold breeze touched the leaves of the trees, swaying the branches and creaking the stems.
Every dead soul began vanishing. All of them, except El Crow.
His soul remained there, alone.
Then, like a unbelievable fever dream, his index finger shook.
A second later, his eyes opened slowly, slowly, then fully.
A evil smile of lunacy flattened his lips, and his scar stretched again.
How irrational, Skylar.
She made a terrible mistake, and it was so cute watching her drive her dagger into his left chest repeatedly, thinking she defeated him.
Other humans have their hearts on the left side of their chests.
Her mistake was thinking he’s like ‘other humans’
He’s not like others.
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Cos his heart, is buried deep in the right side of his chest.
Untouched.
Unbloodied.
Completely safe.
TBC.
