Seconds feel like hours as Pitt rips chunks out of the door, splinters are heard clacking onto the ground as he hits it more and more. Though the catwalk extends to the main gate, no one dares come over to it, out of fear. The banging on the door causes many on the ground floor to retreat up the stairs. You can’t run, due to the spikes around the wall, as there’s only one entrance/exit, and the group notices. Soldiers with shotguns don’t even bother trying to shoot at Pitt, instead, they begin dumping lead into the spikes around the wall, shattering them in hopes of escaping down that way, if possible. The realization that this could be the end dons on you, as you stare at the gate, seeing the smallest bit of anchor pierce through the wood.

You don’t want to take this lying down, so you too join in to shoot at the spikes with your shotgun, yelling at Ludovicas to do the same, as he stands in fear. You look to the rest of your group, finding Jung he attempting to join in on the spike removal (with decent but very slow success at it), Wendy has handed her sawed off to one of the guards and stands poised to open fire on Pitt once he’s broken through. Carlos has the same idea, having reloaded his rifle and maneuvered himself to face the gate, while Castro stands nonchalantly, with one hand on his sword, staring towards the gate. You wonder why, because having a sword fight with that monster is a death sentence. Maybe if he’s gonna die he just wants to go out swinging. Who knows but Castro.

Then there’s Aaron. You expected him to be making some snide remarks or comments and being useless, as per usual, but no. You watch as he uses his ax to cut the support beam on the stairs, then hacks at the rail and base rail, until he succeeds, cutting enough of the stairs off for them to collapse, bringing down the only way down to the center of the fort, and likewise, taking out the only way for Pitt to climb up to you. Others notice this and this sigh of relief is heard, having bought the group even more time, potentially saving more lives. You hear some cheers and whistles from people on the far side, but notice six soldiers remaining down there.

One hides in the stables while two more run into the main building. The remaining three begin to climb up said building and go to hide at the far side of the roof. Completely invisible to all on the ground, only able to be seen from the catwalk. There’s not much to do now, as the last of the spikes are turned to wood chips, creating an opening, to which soldiers toss their coats down to further cover the landing. You’re out of shells by this time, holding your shotgun as a club, expecting not to do any good with it as your swing is mediocre and that’s a fucking anchor you’re batting at. Not Babe, not Shohei, not Mays, not anyone would be able to deflect that shit. Still, you feel more secure with it in your grasp, even if that security is a facade.

Hits keep coming to the door, until a large crack is heard, signaling his efforts to break the door down had finally snapped the barricade bar. Nothing is heard for a second more, before the gate is slammed through by Pitt at a full limping sprint. He hops on one leg and uses the other one only to transfer momentum for his human like one. He stops in the middle of the fort, staring up at the catwalk, particularly at Cailynn, as if she’s the only one there. She stares back, a look of stifled fear in her eyes, but a stoic frown on her face, trying her best to appear unfazed, like a strong leader. Pitt has a partially furred muscular torso, that is furless around the pecs and abs, like how one would expect bigfoot. He wears a burlap sack over his head, tied with a noose around his neck, His right leg resembles that of a deer’s, hoof and all, and he stands motionless, almost mechanical, with no sign that he breaths. His face is not visible but his head shape resembles that of a deer, watching you, like it’s not prey. This staring contest goes on for a while, with you too looking into the indented sockets of that monstrosity’s sack covered face, seeing into a pit of darkness in the sunken holes.

The staring continues until a crunch is heard from the old hay in the stables. You look over and see one of the soldiers, desperately trying to sneak out. Pitt doesn’t react at first, but then whips his head around to look at the man. A good seven seconds of stalling follows, to which Pitt then whips around his body, leading with his left, and swinging his anchor, in such a rapid movement, that he feels more like an automaton than a living creature. It’s almost a blur as the anchor swings around and makes contact, tearing a ravine through the man’s chest, so quickly, so precisely, that the man is bisected before his body even reacts to the forces and momentum of the swing. As soon as his body begins to follow through with the momentum, the anchor hits the supports of the stable and obliterates it, covering the scene in a cloud of dust and dirt, consuming the entire inside of the fort in an instant. The ground is invisible to you, just a cloud of nothing, veiling death. You look around at the wall, seeing concerned faces, with many slowly inching towards the hole you made. All look nervous, especially Cailynn, but Castro stays vigilant, scanning the ground like a hawk. As you look at him, you catch it in the corner of your eye: a severed arm flies into the air from the structure at the gate, opposite of the stables. It flies back down before screams echo towards the main building and a snap is heard, echoing through the wind like a strike of lightning. You watch as part of the roof on that building caves in, thankfully opposite the people hiding on there. One pokes their head up and the guards on the wall frantically wave at them to duck back down.

A long pause is had. An unknown amount of silence but certainly not one that could only be attributed to a second. It scares you, the lack of anything happening around you. The guards don’t speak, neither do your friends, just silence is around. No birds call, no bugs chirp. For miles, there is nothing but a dead silence.
“Did he le-“ is all a soldier on the far side of the wall is able to get out before the anchor emerges from the cloud and strikes. It comes from the middle of the grounds, but the length is enough to reach any point of the wall. You see the carnage prior to hearing the crack , as the anchor punches through the head of the soldier. You couldn’t get a good look at the species, and could only see this almost smooth slice through the head, leaving just the cerebellum attached to his body, as well as the bottom jaw. The soldier collapses instantly, but not as fast as the anchor, which silently retracts into the cloud. A second after, one guard turns to jump down the escape route, and the anchor comes flying at him, hitting the hips and shattering the legs, the blast launches him to the side, and by the time the anchor shoots back into the cloud, the soldier’s top half is falling off into the spikes, impaling him at about the lung, dangling his head over the escape path. He’s a bobcat, frantically panting as he slowly bleeds out and no one goes to help, as it seems even just moving is enough to set off this monstrosity. You debate shooting him to put him out of his misery, but that would mean death for you. So you do nothing, same with everyone else, and so you stand there as he slowly drowns in the blood pooling in his lungs, until he finally goes still. The sun is setting now. Crimson light fills the sky as the dust begins to settle. It reveals a display of carnage you could have never imagined.

Bodies scatter the landscape, perfectly cut, yet with such brutal and forceful means, as to leave the muscles uneven from their retractions post mortem. It’s like someone disassembled a bunch of LEGO minifigures and left them all around. Separate torsos, heads, arms, legs, waists, all cut with a surgeon’s precision, all lying around in the dust, all waiting to rot. Pitt stands in the center of this, like the focal point of a visceral collage, unmoving, casting no sense of emotion. Like a jaguar watching monkeys in a tree, it watches you with unseen eyes. Though he lacks a visible face, the aura he casts scars your very being, sending chills down your spine, making you wish you were back in that prison. Cassius may have tortured you, but this makes you feel like an animal, like prey, like a man facing the reaper. You continue to watch, as Pitt cocks his hand back and then swings it, sending the anchor flying into about 3 people on the side of the wall opposite you, before yanking it back, directing the carnage to splash over those to the right of the dead and over the wall. You don’t look, you only see the death in your peripheral. You look down the reaper as if you were staring down the barrel of a shotgun. Running is futile, fighting is futile, resisting is futile. Death awaits. He then turns to the hole again, to you, and swings, harder than the first. You note it’s happening, but what can you do, as the anchor comes swinging around to you, you prepare for death. Not closing your eyes, just watching. It happens in about 3 seconds, the anchor swings from your left to you, towards the legs. Can’t duck, can’t jump, can’t react, can’t do much more than pull a trigger, but what good will it do?

You don’t shoot, but Carlos does, hitting Pitt in the arm, redirecting the anchor slightly. The anchor first hits his gun, shattering it, then slices through the shin of some rodent guy, narrowly misses two more, then gets jerked back, right next to you and Jung Hee. Jung Hee gets hit in the stomach, with enough force to knock him off his feet and send his last meal out his mouth, but not enough to break skin, as it was the blunt part of the anchor. He is knocked into the part of the broken wall and begins to fall over, as the anchor begins retracting. You are in its path, as the tip of the anchor slashes the outer side of your left calf. You don’t scream, don’t even react, as the force of the anchor transfers in to you, beginning to pull you off the ledge, even after the anchor has passed through you. You feel yourself falling but it’s stopped by something on your back pack. Your feet leave the platform, and begin to fall, but your bag doesn’t, and you’re caught in mid air, not hitting the ground, but leaving the platform completely. You hang over the edge and grab the shoulder straps of the backpack, holding on for dear life, waiting for the inevitable, but you suddenly feel yourself being pulled back. You can’t see who’s trying to pull you up, or help much, due to the position your arms and (usable) legs are. All you see is Pitt with an arm ripped off, regrowing it fast. You watch him get back up as you’re brought back to the ledge by Wendy and Ludovicas, both having looks of pure panic on their faces. You get back up, try to stand, and feel your leg give out under you, having you hit the ground, writhing in agony. You look at your calf to see the muscle is torn through, but tendons and major blood vessels seem to be intact. You’d call yourself lucky but a lucky person wouldn’t be anywhere near this place, nor in this current position. As you begin pulling yourself farther and farther from the ledge, running on pure adrenaline, Aaron steps forward, turning into his beastly form, growing exponentially. His arms grow to the width of tree trunks, climbing down to ground floor, as he begins descending the wall. He’d be about 100 feet tall, if you could see his legs, but they’re clouded in a fog that he’s either emanating or is a part of him. He looks down on Pitt, staring with eyes as gold as the sun, casting a glow of their own, with fire burning in his soul, visible through his semi transparent shape.

He looks like a Kitsune, with the hair as tails, swaying in the wind. Then, in a second, the form collapses to the ground like a poof of smoke, before exploding into the sky, causing the ground to shake, and storm clouds to form, creating a symphony that sounds almost like a pot of water boiling over. Through this, Pitt remains unfazed, staring blankly as this pillar of smoke keeps on rising until it’s in the clouds. Then, in an instant, another pillar shoots down to the ground, outside the fort, before the smoke materializes, forming claws first, then whole legs. The same legs as his beast form. Slowly this materialization travels up his legs until it reaches the merger in the sky, forming a torso within the atmosphere, continuing to travel up as a head forms, with yellow eyes staring down like two full moons, as the clouds blend into the hair. This creature that Aaron either summoned or became does not phase Pitt, not one bit.

Pitt doesn’t look at the sky, ignoring this creature completely, only seeming to scare your allies. Instead, Pitt looks to where you are again, and prepares to swing. He swings high this time, missing Ludovicas and Wendy who are down low on the platform, trying to help you, but instead to where Aaron would be. Luckily, Aaron’s form disappears and he reappears as his smaller skinwalker like form, then drops like a sack of potatoes, causing the anchor to nearly hit him, but miss by an inch. He hits the ground with a look of cartoonish shock on his face, then gazes towards you.
“Hi, how are ya?” Aaron says in a poor SpongeBob voice
“The fuck was that?” You whisper yell back
“Yeah, so, I said before that my weird shit is all illusions- or at least I meant to, and well, it’s kinda hard to do when a burlap sack is preventing your taste, smell, sight, and to some degree hearing, and, on top of that, you seem to not feel pain. So like, idk man, I can’t really do much.”
“Can’t really- the fuck was that?” Ludovicas whisper yells
“Eeeeh, illusions, like I said. Again, I can’t trick what can’t perceive me. So, I can’t do too much. I’m the one opponent that Hellen Keller would have an advantage with, if she were rea-”
“What can you do?” You cut him off
“I could maybe electrocute him, but I’d have to get close and that’s not really looking like an option-“
“O Senhor é o meu pastor; nada me faltará.” Castro begins chanting “Deitar-me faz em pastos verdejantes; guia-me mansamente a águas tranquilas.” Castro begins to chant louder, standing alone, as all else have ducked down in fear. You look to the man and see no fear in his eyes, no other emotions either, like he is getting ready for work, just a blank expression “Refrigera a minha alma; guia-me nas veredas da justiça por amor do seu nome.” He begins to yell, gaining Pitts sole attention. Pitt whips his head around to Castro, but not in the same way that he did when facing the man in the stables, this was different, this is a feeling of confusion “Ainda que eu ande pelo vale da sombra da morte, não temerei mal algum, porque tu estás comigo; a tua vara e o teu cajado me consolam!” Castro chants louder, as Pitt prepares to swing again, pulling his anchor tight “Preparas uma mesa perante mim na presença dos meus inimigos; unges com óleo a minha cabeça, o meu cálice transborda.” Castro yells as the creature’s arm is cocked back, prepared to send the anchor up towards everyone once again “Certamente que a bondade e a misericórdia me seguirão todos os dias da minha vida, e habitarei na casa do Senhor por longos dias.” Castro finishes, just in time for the anchor to be swung. Castro slightly ducks this, but at the same time, draws his sword in an upward slicing motion. There’s a faint sound of metal on metal before the chain snaps back down to Pitt, cracking like a whip as its force is violently redirected into the ground to Pitt’s left. Kicking up dust again.

You stare at Castro, a look of shock on his face, the first thing you’ve seen other than annoyance or slight joy. He stares wide eyed at nothing, as you see the anchor come down far in the distance, towards the ruined city, but closer than the tree. Castro’s shock slowly fades, as you see a sadistic glee take over him. Sheathing his sword, and staring at his hands, before letting out a manic chuckle. The dust begins to clear and Pitt is again revealed. He stands there, not in the same emotionless state, this time looking agitated, but that’s not the noticeable part, that lies at the end of his flail, or lack there of. The chain remains severed, with the sliced pieces Castro made, sitting in the dirt, and the chain hanging limply from Pitt’s hand. Others take notice of this, especially Castro, whose chuckles turn into a full blown cackle. Pitt then raises the now-whip and strikes it down at Castro, who narrowly dodges to the side as it blows through the wooded ledge. As Pitt brings the whip back, Castro hops down to the floor of the fort, flip flops clapping onto the ground, as he lands. He stands up straight, giving a wide smile, as Pitt squares up to face him.
“Let’s dance!” Castro yells, unsheathing his sword and holding it over his head, drawing it back like an arrow, and holding out two fingers in a V shape to guide it. It’s a ballsy move, and as uncertain as the fate of this battle is, it’s certain to be remembered by the survivors, whoever they may be.


Pagebreak



Pitt stares at Castro for a second, then sticks his left leg in front of his right and rapidly winds up. He spins and slashes with his whip towards Castro. Castro jumps off and others move away as the whip lands and combusts the wood platform and part of the wall where Castro stood. As Castro lands, the walkway partially collapses, producing a ramp down to the center of the fort, but, Pitt seems indifferent to it. His eyes lay on the Brazilian, smiling at the creature with his weapon sheathed, a level of confidence that Pitt has likely never seen before, a true war heart.
“That all you got?” Castro asks sarcastically , to which Pitt swings his whip at Castro again. Castro rolls off to his left as the whip crashes to his right, where Castro was just standing, kicking up some more dust, but not enough to cover the arena in a cloud. You look at the battlefield, seeing that Castro had ended up a few feet closer. Not enough to notice from the front, only from above.

Pitt swings again, but his range is off. Castro knows this and lunges forward, swinging behind him and catching the chain. It’s not enough force to cut, but enough to deflect, killing the momentum of the swing and off balancing Pitt. This causes Pitt to not retract the chain, to which Castro moves even closer, before Pitt retracts and swings again. During this, Castro dodges again, getting just slightly more ground. A game of chess is created. The king vs a knight, sending blows out as the knight moves closer, only one forward but several squares to the side at a time, each movement throwing Pitt off more and more. Castro’s movements have him zigzagging towards Pitt, never circling, so Castro can keep his back to the setting sun. You’re not the only one who notices this, as a few soldiers jump off the ledge into the safe zone, beginning to run off. You don’t know where to, whether it’s to get reinforcements or just to be able to run away again in the future, it doesn’t matter, you couldn’t care less, and seemingly neither could Pitt, who’s sole focus lies on Castro.

The game of cat and mouse continues between the two. Pitt strikes, Castro dodges, getting an inch on the monster, but when Castro gets to about 30 feet away, Ludovicas bails. He gets up away from you, causing you and Wendy to look away from the battle. You expect him to jump the wall and run, but he doesn’t. He jumps down to the fort’s interior and begins running to the main building. A full blown sprint, but his speed doesn’t matter, as Pitt doesn’t bat an eye, just continues to attack Castro. The attacks continue, getting more erratic as Castro approaches, as if Pitt was in fear of what’s to come, after finally realizing Castro was gaining on him. Ironically, this beast of a man, a terror to all, is scared. Pitt still doesn’t move, still acting like a robot, as Castro gets closer, until Castro gets within striking range.

In a swift lunge, Castro draws his sword and slashes towards Pitt’s neck. Pitt tries to intercept, using his left hoof-hand-thing to block, but failing. The blade slices through Pitt’s arm like butter, right below the wrist, severing it and burning the opening. It spills no blood, cauterizing the wounds on impact. The blade also cuts his throat. A normal person would have had his jugulars severed and would bleed out in a matter of minutes, but Pitt’s burned, sealing the wound as it cut through. Pitt stumbles back as his am hits the floor and the (now severed) rope on the burlap sack around his neck falls to the ground. As the rope falls, Castro straightens up and stares at Pitt.
“That’s new.” He says, stabbing the severed arm, causing it to sizzle and burn like a piece of meat stuck with a hot metal skewer. Pitt doesn’t care though, grabbing the bag with his one remaining hand, revealing his face.

It’s grotesque, shaped like that of a deer but having the features of a human. Human skin, wrinkles, eyebrows, lips that are sewn up into a grotesque smile. He has one remaining eye as his left is white and foggy, while his right is blue, bright blue, but dilated back in terror. It stares down Castro, as if it were an infant staring at the mouth of a pit bull. The head has patchy hair, almost as if it were yanked out by hand. It’s blond but stained with blood and grease, while long in the back as there looks least affected by whatever happened to the creature. The right side of his face has many scars on it from burns and maybe battle. Pitt then begins to stutter, with his lips sputtering like a horse’s. He then lets out a guttural shriek, harsh to your ears, like a turkey being dissolved in acid or a rubber chicken being lit on fire, sending blood through the burn scars in his neck.

“What an ugly tumor you had under that bag. Let me administer your chemo.” Castro says with a chuckle, unfazed at the hideous display. The creature stares blankly at Castro before swinging the chain back and spinning it so it wraps around his hand, creating the effect of brass knuckles. Castro walks a little to the side, so that the sun rests in Pitt’s one good eye, knowing now that the other is useless. Pitt throws a punch, to which Castro ducks under, breaks into a squat, and quick draws his sword, slicing open Pitt’s stomach, and flicking at the end so that the wounds do not seal and fully split open, spilling the entirety of Pitt’s entrails onto the floor making the ground slick with a dead looking black blood. Pitt looks to himself and grabs at his stomach, then yanks on his intestines, ripping them out so they are no longer in the way of his legs. Pitt then swings again at Castro, who rolls backwards, getting back into the sun.
“It’s gonna be a shame that you won’t have time to miss those.” Castro chuckles as Pitt lets out another scream, causing one lung to dislodge and be seen out of the hole in his gut. Pitt punches at Castro again, but as Castro dodges, Pitt releases the chain, spinning as he does, and whips with a full 360. Castro deflects this with his sword, and backs up a little.

Pitt stares at Castro, then readies another swing, but fakes it, using that as a chance to charge Castro. Castro steps out of the way, unintentionally getting behind Pitt. Pitt then uses the sun at his back to try to blindside Castro, whipping the chain straight down the middle. Castro sees this and dodges to the side, standing with the main gate (or what’s left of it) to his back. Pitt then draws back the whip, but does so either too hard or with not enough situational awareness as it gets wrapped around the support beam of the main building’s roof overhang, where Ludovicas is. He begins to yank at the beam, as Castro takes notice. You can see Pitt’s pulling is causing the beam to give way, which could collapse a part of the roof. Wendy notices too, as she rushes to slide down the collapsed walkway, charging forward as her skin begins to peel off, revealing the wolf underneath. She doesn’t stop for this process, only proceeds forward as her skin is left behind like a trail of bread crumbs, not stripping, only tossing off her bag, hat, and shoes. By the time she reaches the front door, she’s fully transformed, to which she yanks open the door, tearing it off its top hinges. She begins yelling into the house, something you can’t make out, but as she does this, Castro charges Pitt. Pitt sees Castro’s approach and yanks at the chain with all his might, causing the beam to split and the overhang of the roof to come down. Wendy sees this happen and thankfully catches the overhang before it can crush her. She manages to continuously hold it up, yelling “get the fuck out now!” Into the building.

Ludovicas peels out the door, clutching some leather bag, with two of the guys on the roof as the third climbs onto the walkway from the roof. During this, Castro reaches within Pitt’s striking distance, to which Pitt does another down the line whip. Castro side steps it and gets within striking distance. Pitt sees and tries to bring down a hammer fist on Castro, but Castro anticipates it and catches Pitt’s wrist in the sword’s regal crossguard on the blade-side. Castro follows the momentum of the punch but guides it to his side, rather than towards his head, redirecting the blow into nothing, but slicing up Pitt’s wrist in the process, using the sharpened cross guard and blade itself like a seatbelt cutter. Pitt yanks his hand out, worsening the damage, managing to get it free, but leaving it mostly severed, limp, and useless. Pitt tries to make a fist, yielding no results, but Castro doesn’t allow him the time to really try. Castro slashes upwards through the front part of the ankle of Pitt’s human leg, severing the foot and causing Pitt to fall to his knees. Pitt doesn’t have time to process, as, Castro readies his blade over head, Castro brings the sword down with all his might, slashing through the back of Pitt’s neck, severing his head. A loud clang is heard as the blade hits the dirt, followed by a thump as Pitt’s head lands beside it. Castro then brings his sword up and front kick’s Pitt’s beheaded body, making it fall to the left, twitching as the muscles spasm. Pitt is gone, eliminated in one fell swoop as the black blood continues to pool from the stump of his neck. Castro walks over to the body and wipes the blood off on his pants, before sheathing his sword.
“You were one ugly fuck.” Castro chuckles before beginning to walk back to the catwalk.

Wendy (who is still holding the beam) finally lets the roof fall and walks over to the body. Ludovicas takes a second to glance at it, then begins climbing up the walkway. He gets up it as Cailynn walks past you to go see what’s left of her father.
“Damn, we won.” You say to Ludovicas
“Yeah.” He replies, putting down the bag and beginning to undo some clasps
“You don’t seem excited.”
“I’ve got a one track mind.” He says, opening the bag to reveal a bunch of medical instruments. “And right now that’s getting you in walking condition.”
“Does every fort come standard with a physician’s bag? Is that why you ran into the building”
“No.” Ludovicas replies as he pulls out a bottle and shakes it “I just knew this one had this.”
“How?” You ask as Ludovicas douses a rag and begins wiping it on your legs. The stuff burns, like whiskey in a wound.
“It’s my father’s. Before he died, he worked here sometimes.” Ludovicas answers as he begins threading a needle “He got tired of walking back and forth from our home with the bag, so he kept one here and one in The Pitt.” Ludovicas adds as he begins stitching up your leg. The pain is harsh, so you bite down on the strap of your backpack. “He brought me here once, because I wanted to see the old fort. I can’t remember why, but it was just something I wanted to see, a relic of the old world, I guess. He showed me his ‘office’ and I remembered the bag, so I went for it.” He says, finishing the stitches on your leg.

“That being said, I’m not an expert on medicine, I just remember some stuff from my father, so, I don’t know what else you’d need.”
“Any antibiotics?” You ask
“What would those be?”
“Anything that says antibiotics, really. Preferably penicillin.”
“That shit needs to be refrigerated. You’re not gonna find any in an old doctor’s bag.” Wendy says, climbing back up, still in wolf form.
“Then what do you suggest?”
“Disinfecting the wound and keeping it-“
“We do culture penicillin.” Cailynn says from the bottom of the collapsed walkway
“How?” You ask
“I’ve experimented with magic and medicine. There’s a few books on medical practices and pharmaceuticals that I purchased off of a strange man with a banded tail who works for the Yote, while others I got from a very large fox, donned in a metal skull. I keep some of the antibiotics to help fight tetanus within a failed containment cell near The Pitt. I attempted to freeze my father within there, but it did not work, and left the room completely frozen. So it’s used for cold storage now.”

“You’re the fucking best.” You say with glee
“No… no I’m not. But I try to help when I can. It’s the least I can do for your group after getting rid of the plague that’s infested these lands for years.”
“You don’t seem too sad about your father’s death.” Ludovicas says as he packs up the bag, and reluctantly walks over to see if he can help with Carlos
“He’s been dead for years. This was just putting his corpse down. Maybe the sadness will creep in later, but it’s not here now.”
“Regardless, you seem to not really be feeling anything.” Wendy ads
“Well, Mrs werewolf, it may be from shock. I genuinely don’t know how you managed to kill him, none the less with a sword. Especially after we’ve thrown everything imaginable and unimaginable at him with no results.”
“It was through the power of Jesus Christ!” Aaron announces
“Amen, brother!” Carlos yells as Ludovicas inspects his wounds. You feel the need to watch Ludovicas, as there’s a very high chance he may attempt to kill Carlos, going from pharmacist to harm-assist because of Guillermo.
“So your god-“ Cailynn begins
“Don’t be fucking dumb!” Wendy interrupts “genuinely how the fuck did Castro manage.”
“Through Jesus. Idk how it works, it was revealed to me that the Lord would strike down Pitt.”
“So what-“
“I think I know what he means.” Castro cuts in

“When I was still in Brasil” Castro begins “I was good friends with the church, as many were enemies of my enemies, and I received many blessings, one of which was bestowed upon my sword. Something related to Saint Michael.”
“So a priest in Rio de Janeiro-“ you begin
“I’m from Sao Paolo, Not Rio.”
“Right, so some priest from Sao Paolo said some magic shit and you were able to send flames through your sword?”
“Have you even seen the exorcist. Holy shit burns demons, and if I remember correctly, Cailynn says Pitt was changed with demonic magic. So it makes sense that a holy weapon would kill it.”
“So we just need to have Castro behead the baroness and then everything is good.” Ludovicas says, cutting a little dead flesh off Carlos’ leg
“You’re getting ahead of yourself there. We have two cripples and a likely extremely vengeful crime lord trying to kill us. Baby steps, my friend.”Castro says
“I did agree to an open rebellion if my father was dealt with.” Cailynn says in a lower tone.
“Regardless guys, Castro is right. Cass is prolly getting ready to try and murder us before he’s inevitably dethroned, cause ya know, we’re not very dead. More so, you two are probably gonna die of infection if we don’t get to Pittsburgh-“ Aaron begins
“Pittsburgh?” You ask
“Sorry, different shithole.”
“Aaron, you can’t be saying that shit.”
“It’s not like anyone from Pittsburgh is listening. Or reading. But regardless, it’s those Philly motherfuckers you gotta worry about. Who the fuck just levels their entire city because their sports team lost. And God only knows why they do the same if they fucking win. Like Jesus.”
“Aaron, we-“
“You know what, fuck people from Baltimore too. My name isn’t fucking ‘Urn’ it’s Aaron! Aye-Ron- like, fuck, I’d even take A-A-Ron, but-“
“Aaron! Shut the fuck up!” Carlos yells
“You know what, no-“
“Aaron, if I die of tetanus because you bitched about east coast cities, I’m coming back and haunting you.” You joke
“Tsk tsk, you’d have to be roomies with Saddam, but I digress: Three more. Fuck Manhattan, the people there know only money and cruelty, and everyone there either has visions of hell in their minds or a look of pure sadness only seen elsewhere in Eastern European gay porn in their eyes-“

“Do I want to ask why you know about the eastern eu-“
“No. Fuck Massachusetts, but specifically Boston, and this isn’t only because of football. Such snobbishness from the entire population. I’ve never before seen a homeless man with the same look of entitlement and self servingness only likened to that of an oligarch’s dipshit child. And lastly, fuck Atlanta! How the fuck is the whole city bisexual, but yet I still can’t get a piece of ass anywhere without showing Jackson. Then you’ll think it’s 1812 the way people cheer and European foreigners flee.”
“Aaron… what the fuck do you mean by that?”
“Nothing. Let’s get you in tip top shape. So where’s this cold storage you mentioned? I made Jung-Hee take a cooler bag with him.”
“You have a portable cooling bag? Like the alcohol caddies toted around by the outlanders?” Cailynn asks
“Well, sorta. I use mine primarily for vegetables, steaks, and ice cream. I’m more of a wine guy than a beer one.”
“I understand. I must ask, why you bring this up?”
“Well, tweedle dee and tweedle dipshit over here can’t exactly walk to this place, so, I figured, I’d send my lackey to go pick up some antibiotics and bring them back.”
“Is Jung-Hee alright?” You ask
“Yeah, he bounced. No need to worry.”
“Aaron-“
“He’s fine, maybe winded, but fine.”
“You’re not gonna check on him?”
“No, cause he’s fine-“
“Are you sure?”
“BITCH! I JUST KNOW THINGS! Get off my dick already, he’s fucking fine. Let me show you.” Aaron yells, before leaning over the wall “How are you doing my Cambodian friend?”
“Suck my fucking dick!” You hear Jung Hee scream
“See?” Aaron says as he looks back at you, then leans back over “Cailynn here is gonna take you to the cold storage to get Antibiotics. Fuck this up, and I’ll make sure your inevitable death is gonna be one of extreme agony. Like some real fucked up shit like drowning from your own blood type fucked up.”

“The way you treat your slave is odd. No physical torment, only verbal, bu-“ Cailynn begins
“I’m gonna stop you there. I have no fucking slaves. I fucking detest slavery. The idea that someone is inherently inferior to others by birth, by race, by sex- it’s repulsive. And to lack freedom to do anything for yourself, it’s… I don’t like slavery.”
“If not a slave, then what is he?”
“Something actually subhuman. An entrepreneur in stocks.”
“Aaron. Please, just shut the fuck up.” Wendy mumbles “she doesn’t understand your jokes and everyone who does understand finds it about as funny as a funeral.”
“do yall not crack jokes as part of your eulogy?”
“Mother fucker, I don’t do eulogies.”
“Well, you-“ Arron begins again as Castro walks over and puts his hand over Aaron’s mouth. Castro then releases and walks back to Carlos. Aaron stands there, expressionless for a couple seconds more before speaking “tastes like ball sweat. You need to wash better.”
“Arron, why-“ you begin
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”
“Aaron. Please just go with Jung-Hee.” Wendy says with a sigh “I’m gonna go steal some clothes and then get back to normal.”

“Fine fine.” Aaron says before sliding down the walkway and heading to the gate with Cailynn following after. Wendy waits a minute before walking down the ramp, to which a thought dons on you:
“Wendy, why don’t you stay in your wolf form? Like there’s not really-“
“Felix, I don’t think I need to explain to you that it feels really fucking weird to be completely naked and looked at with fear constantly. The disease immunity is a blessing. The rest is a curse.” She says as she picks up her hat, bag and shoes from the ground. She then proceeds over to the main building and chucks her stuff inside, before removing what’s left of a Union shirt from the bisected guard, before taking his pants and belt, then walking into the building to change. At this point you’re left alone. Ludovicas and Castro are preoccupied with Carlos, Wendy is busy, and Aaron and Jung Hee are leaving. So, you lay back and stare to the sky, with the sun fully set, the stars becoming visible, and though you’re injured, at the sight of a brutal battle, and have enemies currently trying to kill you. You feel at peace. You don’t sleep, just admire the sky for some minutes before Ludovicas walks into your plane of view

“You didn’t kill him.” You joke
“Took a lot of restraint… there’s been enough blood for today.” He replies with a smile
“Yeah.” You say, to which Ludovicas sits down next to you and stares up with you. Neither of you speak, just admire the beauty of the cosmos in this rare and brief sliver of peace.