Monster and Angel (Private; The Archangel)

Thud, thud, thud, the truck went. Demetrius sat in his confinements, shriveled up, starving. When he was caught, the police made a few careless errors that allowed him an occasional meal, but they learned from their mistakes real quick. After about two months of being in a cell, they had learned not to get near him. They said it was as if he were taking from their soul when he did. He was studied, forced to endure countless experiments, anything from forcing him to endure magma to flooding his room with water to the point that he couldn't breath to see how long he lasted. Every time, they justified their actions with the reasoning "He's a monster and an enemy to humanity, there's no reason to extend human rights to him."

Now some scientists in Chicago wanted to do their own experiments on him, study his unique strand of Meta-Genes to see what gave him the strength he possessed. After paying five hundred thousand dollars for him, various different equipment and people to help watch over him, they were allowed to study him themselves, and that's where Demetrius is now. He's sitting in a reinforced semi-truck that easily prevents him from escaping in his current state. It's been two days, and the starving Demetrius is starting to get strong smells. He can smell anger, annoyance, hatred, sadness, and much more. Those scents make him water at the mouth, but with the foul aroma of happiness, though it may not have been as plentiful as the aromas he enjoyed, it still sickened him.

After a couple hours more hours of driving, the car went to a halt. Unbeknownst to Demetrius, the driver had just stopped outside of a university and was being met by six armed individuals and one man who wanted to see Demetrius.

"Be careful now, all of you. Try not to show any fear or it could end up badly." The truck driver said in a slight southern accent.

"It'll be fine, we have more than enough preparations to deal with him." The man said. He walked up to the back of the truck and, without any precautions, put the key into the bolted door and opened it. Demetrius walked out slowly and cautiously. The man had seen photos of him, but he hadn't expected anything like that. In a moment of slight fear and regret, Demetrius pounced on him. Demetrius held him down as gray light trickled from the man's mouth and into his, slowly becoming more plentiful until, for just a moment, it had become a stream. It faded out into nothing. Demetrius dropped the man who was now unable to hold himself up, relieved that he had fed but still scared.

A bullet hit Demetrius in the arm. One finally realized what was happening and stepped in. Too late. He was snapped out of his fear and looked at  he guard who had fired. The bullet did penetrate his skin, but it stopped. Demetrius was able to pull it out with ease. Before anyone else could shoot, he pounced on another one of them, using them as a meal as more gray light streamed out of their mouths as he ate from them.

This was the best that Demetrius had eaten in months. Not satisfied with just nine people, he started chasing people who were running away. It was easy. They weren't that fast in comparison to him now, and catching up with each individual one was simple. With each person he ate from, he grew stronger. Each delicacy of fear from each individual took a moment to eat, and by the time he had eaten from 15 people, most were hiding or had run away. Not that it mattered. He had enough strength to easily lift a car, so if he became hungry again, all he had to do was leap over buildings  and jump into a new crowd of people.