Full-Proof

“Did you really think you’d get through us that easily?” Täter mocked, grabbing a hold of Franz’s ear and holding him from it while his grunts laughed. Franz frantically tried to free himself from the pain of his skin splitting but the Scourge kept his grip. He tried to free himself with a punch that was evaded with ease, and he was thrown into the ground. The force was enough to have him bounce off the ground after the impact, and no sooner did he rise had he fallen again. Täter held the back of the drunkard’s head like a basketball and slammed it into the concrete, instantly stopping the movement Franz had left in him.

“Pathetic” He scorned. “I know quite a bit about you, Franz. Colour me surprised, I wouldn’t have thought a moron like you would be here but…” Täter paused as he crouched next to the prone Franz, getting as close as he could to his ear. “Then again, you are smitten with the Princess, aren’t you?” He made sure the whisper was loud enough his men could hear it, they joked and laughed. Franz had nothing else to say, he hadn’t the strength to say it anyways, his head was heavy, his vision an ever changing vortex of light and dark. “Oi.” The Scourge called to a grunt of his. “Hand me the device.” They threw over a strange artifact, shaped like a diamond with a black band separating the panels and a circle in the centre. Täter lifted Franz up a little, holding him in his arm and holding the device at arms length facing the two of them. “Say cheese, little mousey!”

The device flashed, and a photo formed in his hand. “Here.” He handed it to his grunt. “Show his friends how much fun he’s having.” Mimicking a demon, he stared deep into Franz’s eyes with a smile that could make ice melt. “I’m sure they’ll want to join in.”

And as his grunt ran to the battle ahead, he left behind the sound of kicks, stomps and villainous laughter.

*-*-*

The stickmen army was quickly being defeated. However, Mühelos was too falling rapidly. Leona was racing through the lines, goreing more and more outlaws with ruthless aggression. Arata was keeping a close watch of the battle from his station atop the hill, drawing out more stick warriors as his army started to thin out. Each round of summonings were more draining than the last for him, the pen he looked upon now was still something he had yet to fully understand. “Damn, I’m gassed… could really go for a pizza right about now.” He remarked.

Another small unit broke through the base’s door and out into the battlefield. Arata focussed on them, they looked strange, compact as opposed to the complete chaos of the other soldiers. They were circled around one grunt, running into the fray towards Leona’s hunting grounds. “What are you up to?” He asked quietly. The archive in his brain held no recollection of such an event, nor were any breakthrough panels coming forth. He quickly fashioned a spyglass in the air and took a closer look. There was nothing particularly special about the one in the middle but…

They reached Leona and attacked in unison. She was fully drinking in the animalistic desire, running on all fours and cutting down foes with her sharp nails like talons. Naturally, she took down the first three like child’s play, moving so quickly they couldn’t predict where she was coming from each time. The fourth turned into her attack, a spin kick directly downwards, planting his head into the ground like a terrified ostrich. The other three turned as quick as they could but she was gone. It was only as a drop of blood landed on one of the grunts that they looked up and saw her. Too late.

The centrepiece was the last one left. He shivered as she approached. Covered in mud and blood, eyes like those of a demon.

No sooner had she floored him, had a small paper caught her attention, drifting in the wind. No sooner had she seen what was on it… had she unleashed a rage beyond any seen before.

The sky turned a sickly red, a pillar of it trailed behind her, with beaten men and women of Mühelos at either side. She calmed as the armies of both sides were eradicated. Arata, on edge after seeing her explosion, descended onto the battlefield, nervously approaching her. “L- Leona?” He tentatively called out, keeping a distance he knew would do a whole load of nothing should she turn on him.

“They got him” She cried. Arata crept a little closer, still behind her just in case. But it was as he was arms length away from her that she spun around and pushed the image into his face. “He’s got Franz!”.

*-*-*

The army outside was reduced to just Arata and Leona, no stickmen remained, no more Mühelos. Both of them hurried into the first room of the base. It looked like the fight had happened in there instead, glass shattered all over the place, torn banners and broken wood walls. But the same heavy metal played on the jukebox, making the place feel that much more barren.

They proceeded on, rushing into the centre room. It was nothing more than a dark, damp cell that lead into Täter’s personal quarters. Grime slicked down the metal roof and landed in a pile of green sludge. The sound of chains swaying and catching on the wall was all they could here. But, just ahead, Täter was leaning against the doorway.

“You know, if you wanted to join the fun that much, you could have said so.” He mocked.

Leona stomped closer, like a soldier’s march into enemy territory. “Where is he?!” She barked but it only made the Scourge giggle more. Arata didn’t feel right. It was just Täter remaining now, and all his soldiers had scurried out of the first room so, why the need for extra space? It was completely empty, a few chains hanging around and a sort of target range for bows but… it just didn’t feel like it would be as easy as just beating the last guy and win back the Princess, there was something they weren’t seeing.

“Franz?” Täter asked sarcastically. “I’ve left him with a few of my guys. They’re having fun at the minute, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind the extra company.”

Leona had continued marching, and he’d let her get close enough to grip his collar and latch on, he didn’t fear her. “Let him go, let the Princess go.” There was fire in her words, an stare down equivalent to a tiger staring into the eyes of a deer… but this deer seemingly had no care in the world. “Or?”

Arata had noticed something as his eye wandered, something in the corner of the room… it was like a faint light… no, it was, two of them…

“I’ll tell you what, Leona, I’ll let the Princess leave along with your worthless friend. You just have to beat me first.”

Without another word, Leona’s fist was in his face… or at least that was where she was aiming. He had it blocked with his strange barrier before she even entered the room. Instinctively she jumped back, no need to be risky here, only one man stood between them and their goal. But Täter retained his confidence, his swagger. All the while, Arata was watching the red spots in the room, until they vanished. They were not lights, and he realised what exactly stood in their way now. “Uhh… Leona…”

It almost scraped the roof it was that tall. Shadowed by the dark and looking down on them.

*-*-*

“D- Damn it… I can’t move.”

They weren’t even bothering to watch him anymore, more content to play cards and throw bottles at him.

“Gotta, get free” He wrestled with the thick rope tying his hands together, slowly so he didn’t attract attention. Eventually a hand got free, but he was dreading the next step. Plotgerät was just around the corner, he was so close and yet, these guards had him beat. They’d slapped him around worse than he’d ever been before, and what’s worse, taken his weapons. If he got free, he knew he would have to pass them…

“! Got it!” He’d been stripped of every tool and belonging, but, they had missed the flask in his coat pocket. This was the one Arata had made, the one he had told Franz to use as a last resort…

If there was a time for such things, it was now!

With one swift motion, he reached for it and…

One of the guards kicked him in the chin, hard. He’d seen him reach for the flask, and took it from his hand. “Son of a… thought you checked him?!” The guard complained to his associate who basically told him to fuck himself without words.

He analysed it, opening it and taking a whiff. “Hooo… strong hootch for a boy!” He mocked. “Wanted one last drink before you died, eh?” He seemed to look back for the approval of his friends, who laughed along.

Franz arched enough that he could see the man, only to be met with a rain of alcohol. “That’s… mine” He strained. But the grunt just laughed and got closer.

“Bottoms up, eh, boy?”

The guard took a big swig.

And that very guard collapsed, foaming at the mouth. The flask landed by Franz, who picked it up while the other guards frantically rushed over to see what happened. Finally, the touch of god’s nectar hit his throat, and it was like lightning coursed through his veins. “This booze, I made it myself” He told them. “Not very inventive, the name. I couldn’t think so good after testing it.” He stood somehow, the ropes just falling off him as his guards prepared their weapons. “I just named it after it’s strength.”

“100 proof.”