Arc 2 - Chapter 26: Incel

(Quintiles 29, 59 / 8:41PM)

They gripped the helm of their weapons tightly, which in turn cracked and screamed the metal. Gluing their heels to the metallic floor of the van, they couldn’t allow their breathing to falter, the more they scoured their eyes in the darkness.

Luke, whose hairs raised relentlessly the more he stalled in one spot, found himself raising his uzis into the darkness.

‘Any moment now…’

Luke, Stan, and Miles all felt their bodies grow hot. That was until Luke fired one of his guns. Rippling the air by his own hot lead, the sudden gust of light was all they needed.

At the perfect time, one of Luke’s bullets grazed through a wolf, piercing its skin from the center between its eyes. Not only that, but a dozen of them were growling at the same time.

Pointing all of their barrels at the horde of jumping wolves, Stan blind fired once, to determine the location of the wolves by memory. Soon, the entire tunnel echoed thunderly by the booming of bullets.

“Shoot your guns! It creates light!”

“Wait … my shield!”

One by one, they shot most of the wolves that were up in the air. Targeting the center of their eyes, Stan and Luke did more of the shooting, since their guns were built for range. Miles used his blessing to form a bluish light on his left wrist, with the front of it jagged and perfect to reflect.

As for the couple of wolves that managed to sneak on, Miles grazed the wind with the shells of his sawed-off-shotgun. Bursting his eardrums with every blow, all the wolves tried to go after Luke or Stan, but both men had their weapons busy.

But that wasn’t the end of their journey just yet.

Another pack of wolves came barging through the air, leaving their fangs to ripple the air with saliva. Spreckling throughout the darkened wind, while their gunshots brimmed the tunnel with light, it was like the biggest action flick they ever put themselves into. Dropping wolves by the skin of their teeth, allowing their bones to ripple with every recoil, it was enough for them to ground the ends of their teeth.

—Just how many wolves are there?

Both Luke and Stan reloaded in intervals, leaving them to fire in given sections. Leading them to gain light, along with Miles’s blessing of shield, it made them gain an extra step of visibility.

Pack after pack, wolf after wolf, cases of blood littered the air with humidity. Every wolf they killed was another pile that littered the asphalt of the highway, and every corpse was a testament to the bare bones teeth they clenched.

Until the last pack leaped in the air, with the leader being an abnormally huge wolf. Not only that, but it looked to be heavier as well, as he saw tar drip from its fangs.

‘Huh?’

Stan began to ripple the beast with his bullets, leaving no flesh to be undone. Yet for some reason, the heavy wolf that leaked tar didn’t pay no heed to the pain. Instead, it only worsened its nuzzle, making it have no choice but to charge and leap toward the wide-eyed Stan.

As Luke finished most of the wolves, by spraying and paying countless times over and over again, he noticed that only his barrel was ripping the air. But he couldn’t check on Stan, as he had to mop up the last of the wolves or else…

Miles noticed the large wolf, and fired most of its shells toward it. And unfortunately, Stan clicked the trigger of his gun, only to find nothing bursting out from it.

‘Out of all fucking times!’

Using his left hand, he barged it into his pocket to look for any objects within his jacket. Finding a small ammo box, he tried to take it out—

It was right in front of him.

He didn’t even pull out his own bullets, leaving him to stare at the wolf like a deer in headlights. Unable to take a step back, from fear of slipping off, it left him to just stare at it.

Until he heard the sound of a single bullet, piercing through the wolf’s heart.

Letting out a shrieking yelp, it caused the wolf to land right in front of Stan’s shoes. Taking a step back, with his heels barely on the edge of the van, a large droplet of sweat dropped onto the dead wolf. And yet, he kept his heels firm on the metal, while taking in a heap of air into his warm lungs. Pushing it all out, he directed his attention to Luke and Miles, who stood side-by-side with a bluish light reflecting against both their skins.

“Let’s just cook this bastard.”

““Agreed.””

Without thinking about it, the three of them littered the wolf with bullets. Emptying out all of the ammo within their magazines, which scalded the tips of their barrels. Reaching the last of the lead, the wolf that looked twice as large as the other wolves rivered out a lake of tar.

Letting their guns drop to their sides, the wolf soon fell victim to the black asphalt, leaving it to disappear into the darkness.

—Why did that wolf have tar?

The four of them noticed a dim light coming from the other end of the tunnel. Turning their heads toward it, they sensed no wolves coming from behind them, leaving their daring tunnel journey to come to an end.

Their breathing slowed down, along with their skin being parched by the sudden gust of wind. Compressing it into their throats, they wiped their foreheads conjoined with sweat, and sat their butts on the roof.

“Next time, no more tunnels…”

““You’re preaching to the choir.””

Feeling the cold wind blow against their hair, which rippled the ends of it, the sweat that pelted their skin compressed harshly.

________________________________________________________________________

The three of them, including Jack, looked up at the night sky. Ash floating down on them, it glowed an orangish red that sulked the ends of their cheeks.

“How’s it going up there?!”

Miles looked down to the van’s side-view mirror, making him ground his teeth as he stared at Jack’s smug face.

“You little … you haven’t done anything to help us!”

“Whaaat?! I can’t hear you through all this wind!”

“Just take us out of the highway!”

Jack let out a sigh while rolling his eyes, as he kept his glancing eyes at his side-view mirror. His foot heavy on the pedal, and the wind blowing through the open window, he noticed a green billboard with white letters. Turning on his high beams, he squinted at the sign and its wording.

‘5 miles huh…’

Passing through the green billboard, the van continued to prowl through the highway without stopping. Pushing his head out the window, he gained contact toward the rest of the three still sitting.

“Hey, should we help out Gwen or Luna?! Those two are facing really powerful enemies!”

His grip on the steering wheel loosened, followed by his foot softening on the gas. Leaving the van to decrease in speed, Miles took Jack’s words out of everyone, although the wind harshened the quality of them. But wait? Didn’t Jack say that he couldn’t hear Miles’ words? But given the fact that Jack did hear his words … that meant Jack was rage-bating him.

“sighs … Should we? I mean, Gwen is pretty powerful on her own.”

“And Luna is the strongest fighter out of everyone.”

Stan also looked down at Jack’s popped out head, and folded his arms. Peering into the black asphalt below, he felt his whole body tense up from the sudden cold.

‘And honestly, we’re nothing more than cannon fodder to them.’

Meanwhile, Luke placed his right hand underneath his chin. Continuing to look down at the highway, he soon felt his sixth sense starting to call him.

The reverb service bell blaring his soul, he placed his other hand onto his hip, and felt his uzi with his fingertips. Feeling like his heart might beat out of his chest, he wrinkled his face tenfold.

Miles took note of Luke’s strange behavior, making him glance at the direction of where Luke’s staring.

“What is it, Luke?”

“So … what’s the final answer? Should we help them or not?”

—“You should say that after you battle me!”—

Turning toward the left side of the passenger van, which was the side of danger creeping up, he wiggled his fingers alongst the butt of his uzi. Which in turn, Stan and Miles turned to where Luke’s staring.

And they saw a head stick out. Taking a single step back, they gulped loudly as they saw its chest and stomach, while it gripped the side of the van with his hands. Focusing their entire being on Harold, who looked like he didn’t have arms … it meant …

Harold had only his hands and feet, which connected to his stomach and chest.

“You guys are complete jerks! Because of you three, I look like … t-t-this!”

“Uh … need an arm or two?”

“Screw … you … all … you killed all my wolves, and the wolf I was in!”

There was pause, before the three of them tilted their heads to the right. Narrowing his eyes at the lich’s face, Miles folded his arms below his chest, and gruffed air from his nostrils. Luke didn’t really put on a mean face, as he kept his usual fear-filling face pale and sweaty.

Meanwhile, Stan widened his eyes, once he realized why the last wolf took so long to kill.

“There was that one wolf that had a lot of tar…”

“You all need help … you all are heartless, no empathy to kids or their wolves …”

“Oh we do, but not for liches; incel.”

“What was that!?”

Miles didn’t even bother to hover his hands onto his holsters, as he churned a cold frown. The corners of his lips reaching his jawline, Harold seethed with frustration.

Luke and Stan let out smug grins, as Stan placed his hands onto his waist while holding in a breaking laugh. For Luke, he covered his mouth with his right hand, as he felt his vocals break bit by bit.

“Just because you aren’t attractive, doesn’t give you the right to hate them.” Said Stan.

“You don’t understand!”

“I think that’s why his blessing is wolves. He probably sees himself as the alpha of his pack…” Said Luke.

“You…”

Harold crushed his teeth against his own, leaving his gums to bleed out tar like a ravaging flood. Fluttering down his lips, and onto the metallic floor of the van, the entirety of his eyes were turned tarshot black. Bulging his eyes, creasing his upper eyelids with veins, he then…

—“You honestly think I’m an incel!? Me!? An incel!? Just because women aren’t flocking toward me doesn’t make me one ok! They just don’t understand the value I have! I’ve seen girls get with even uglier guys and what do I get!? Nothing!? Absolutely nothing! Is there something wrong with me!? Am I that hideous!? I didn’t lay a finger on them, yet I get treated like a world class creep! All because I lack social skills! But they then go for the men that beat them! And guess what?! They get pregnant, and the guy leaves! So much for picking the right man! And they even have the audacity to say, ‘Oh why can’t I find a good man?’ or ‘I just want a man to treat me right’, well boohoo little whores! You know what? Why do I bother for those types of women, or women at all? So now do you understand, as to why I see women as nothing more than hinderstances? I simply exist and they stare at me as if I murdered their entire family. It was a good thing I befriended Gary, because I would’ve gotten crazy a long time ago. Did I explain it well for you fucker!? Well, did I?!”—

Luke, Stan, and Miles were at a loss of words, as they stared blankly at the teenage lich. Without moving a muscle within their bodies, they remained standing … and spoke—

““““… incel …””””

“THAT’S IT!!”

His feet that held his small body, began to lift himself up slowly. Steam venting from the edgelines of his feet and hands, it meant that his missing body parts were resurfacing like clouds. Blocking their faces from the steam, Luke had his right eye open, and saw that some of the steam also emitted a few sparks of embers.

His body fully rebuilt from the quickening of tar, he then laid his tarshot eyes at the three of them. Feeling like his body might explode, his lips quivered, all the while his bare toes gripped the surface of the metal sharply. Hunching his back, and sliding his right foot back, he let out a hoarse voice from his throat, one that was filled with a chuck full of murderous intent.

“I’ll desectify all of you…”

Hearing the sudden change of his voice, the four of them holstered their guns, as they saw him on the verge of breaking his knuckles. Until he kicked himself off the van, leaping in the air while pulling his arms back.

________________________________________________________________________

“I’M STARTING WITH YOU!!”

Throwing his right fist, Luke activated his blessing, and dodged the knuckles that held Harold’s strength. His boots glued to the floor, while holding his body weight on the edge of his toes, his right cheek felt like a knife had grazed his skin.

“Stan! Back up Luke!”

“On it!”

Bluish particles summoned from both of his palms, leaving him to extend his arms outward. Both of his wrists having shields, sweat already lingered down his forehead. As for Stan, he pulled out a simple police baton, with the front end having a taser attached to it. Turning on one of the buttons, a number of sparks made Stan take a step back from his friends’ creation.

But with no time to spare, both of them leaped to aid Luke, who began dodging punch after punch by the skin of his teeth. Feeling the wind breeze against his leather jacket, and his light brown hair, he even felt Harold’s voice boom into his soul.

“Come on! Bring it! BRING IT!!”

In rapid time, Harold swiftly dodged Stan and Miles’ combat weapons, and kept his faithful eyes on them while Luke loosened his defence. Feeling the wind blew against his body, along with his white cloth that he wore, he slid through the metal that held minimal space.

Unlike Ryan or the other liches, Harold looked like he could barely keep up. Making this an even fight, Miles had the lich more on edge than anyone, leaving Stan to be more of the support. And as for Luke, he tried to pull his uzis from his waist, but his hands stalled on his holsters. Feeling like someone was keeping them there,his fingers shook and trembled while feeling static blunder his blood.

Gliding toward Stan, who was the farthest from both Miles and Luke, he used this window to leap toward him. Without dawning on it, Harold gripped the helm of Stan’s collar, and spun his body 180. Facing the left side of the van, or rather the driver’s side, a number of veins scattered throughout his pale face.

“You have a delivery! DOWN THE FUCKING PAVEMENT!!”

Having Stan grip his heels on the edge of the van, Harold had lowered his body flat, meaning he was hanging from the side. Unable to fight his way out of Harold’s grip, Miles jumped toward the lich with his hands flailing back. Just as Harold was about to drop him…

‘Oh crap, gotta make this exit.’

—The van swerved to the right; the wheels screeching out under the sudden turn.—

“Woah oh shit!”

“Jesus—hey!”

“Gah!”

Everyone found themselves gliding across the roof, with the metal turning into a frictionless state. Ultimately, this made Miles fall off the van, but he gripped the edge with his fingertips.

Luke found himself holding the passenger side door. Clinging onto it like a lifeline, he pushed himself into the passenger seat, while Jack glanced at Luke’s daredevil stunt.

And Harold, who was about to throw Stan, found themselves on the edge of the van, but Stan kept his grip. In fact, Harold had the tips of his toes dragging across the endless black pavement, and Stan wasn’t far behind him. But ultimately, how would he get himself back up?

‘How many close calls did I have?’

Until his relief turned into surprise, once he found that Harold was moving toward something. Since the wind was pushing them back, it made sense that Harold’s toes were dangerously drawing near the rear tire of the van.

“Can’t you just give up already?! Is it an apology you want?!”

“If I’m being taken down, I’m taking you with me! YOU HEAR ME!!”

He dug his nails into his calves, leaving blood to be drawn while having murderous eyes. His scleras filled with rage, the searing pain was enough to clench his eyes shut

And with the motion of the van returning back to normal, Miles took this quick window to lift himself up. Settling his feet on the roof, he ran straight toward Stan, who saw his fingers on the edge of giving up.

“Oh shit! Stan!”

‘No … it can’t be the end!’

Inches, centimeters, millimeters away from the black tire … they all heard the sound of a gunshot.

A sniper shot to be exact.

““What?””

Both Stan and Miles turned their heads toward the direction of the sniper shot, and noticed a red-haired man dangling on the edge of the driver side door. His left hand wrapped around it, his right wielded his sniper, all the while a plume of smoke rose from the barrel.

“coughs coughs … I hate you all … I hate you all so much…”

Tar poured from the left side of his chest, meaning he had no means of regenerating. Miles, who grabbed Stan’s hands just in time, pulled the elf up just in time before he let loose. As for the lich, his intention of dragging both him and Stan into the wheels, faded in the wind.

Being brought to the roof of the van, while wheezing in and out through his mouth, tar dripped from the corners of his lips. But why is the van still in motion?

Pinning their attention onto the driver side mirror, they noticed Luke gripping the wheel with pale hands. Verifying it was Luke, Miles placed his hand onto his chest, and turned his attention onto the sniper who dangled beside the door.

“I thought you would be dumb enough to let the vehicle drive itself…”

“What do you take me for? Some kind of idiot?”

Miles remained silent.

“Whatever. What do we do with sir hates-women-a-lot?”

Feeling the cool summer air breeze through their hair, they noticed the new highway they entered into. Knowing that Jack had taken a junction, a sharp one at that, Miles soon turned his attention back onto the barely breathing lich.

Despite sharpening his eyes at the lich, he slowly curled his fingers into his palms—

[Be the best man you could be.]

‘Honestly coach … I don’t know how…’

As if he flicked on a switch, Harold thrusted himself toward the two men. Sprouting out his fingers like knives, he extended out his arms. Returning his scleras tarshot, and littering his face with veins, both men jumped back from the sudden push.

“I’LL GET THE LAST LAUGH!!”

“No you ain’t.”

Already putting away his police baton, Stan brought out a nylon rope from his jacket, with his fingers wrapping around the tightened material. Along with a couple of razors attached to the rope, it latched around Harold like a piercing net.

And with all of his strength, Stan lifted him up through the air, while his grip on the rope only callused his hands. Soaring on top of them, Harold eventually reached the other side. But Harold failed to land on the roof, as he found himself heading toward the pavement.

“Oh sh—”

Pulling the rope toward him, it left Harold no choice but to be smudged near the wall. But because Stan failed to pull him up, the lich found himself in the center between below and …

They felt like glass screeched against their ears. Covering their ears with their palms, Stan was the only one who didn’t as he had his hands full. Like the sound of a chainsaw cutting through a tree, but with the chains being faulty, it only worsened the bark once chunk by chunk.

With the analogy being Harold’s body.

The van shook intensely, with the engine rumbling from the obstacle within one of the wheels. If Luke pushed the engine any further, who knew when the engine would fail them? No choice, he slammed on the brake pedal, but even that didn’t work.

And because Harold had been swept into the grizzled trap, Stan had let go of the nylon rope. Even though he didn’t want to, if he had kept his grip firm, he would’ve followed the same suit as him.

—A fate where both the asphalt and the wheels crushed flesh and bone.—

His legs were the first to be shredded, followed by his chest and stomach. Tar and bone splattering the black pavement, his flesh was cheesed and laid out like a piece of gum. The only body part being his head, his face slammed again and again against the flesh scraping asphalt that ripped more and more of his precious…

From his skin, down to his muscles, bones; all his body parts from his eyeballs and brain were smudged into that of a sardine can. Continuing to shriek, Miles and Stan looked away, for even Luke and Jack shivered at the ungodly death that God had bestowed upon him.

Until his shrieking ceased, and the van’s rumbling finally settled down.

________________________________________________________________________

(Quintiles 29, 59 / 8:54PM)

They were out of the highway.

Strolling through the empty streets of downtown, the four of them found themselves silent. Keeping their hands firm on their laps, they didn’t dare take a peek at the bottom tire to their right, which probably still had pigments of Harold’s skin. Jack being the driver, Miles being the passenger, and Luke and Stan sitting idly in the back, they all kept to themselves.

—Just who is behind all this…

Luke placed his hand onto his right eye, which was already covered by his side bang. Having the tip of it grazing against his knuckles, his left eye shone through the desolate dark, which glowed a crimson red.

Hearing the ungodly scream, it replayed into their memories like an old record. Acquiring a new trauma, all four of them had their heads tilted down, and their eyes sunk down into their cheeks.

‘I don’t believe in God, but I pray that I never end up being a lich.’ thought Jack.

His eyes shadowed, he glanced at one of the buildings rising through the clouds. Feeling his vocals quivering against one another, Jack’s breathing dimmed, while he kept his eyes on the road.

And directed his voice towards the others.

“It’s that building … right?”

All three of them lifted their heads, and looked at the building clastined in glass. Miles, who had his hands stationary to his thighs, nodded softly at the building that harbored something …

“Yeah. Let’s just help Gwen and Luna…”