Arc 3 - Chapter 23: Zirardge Ranch IV

(Reverence 3, 59 / 12:21AM)

There was a fight on two fronts.

With Luke and Iris dealing with Doug, Hope barely had her hands set on Betty. With Iris scraping the gravel with her heels, she kept her focus on the chubby man. So did Luke.

—I have to keep them shut.

Hearing the boom of a buckshot, he felt the right side of his body be rippled against. Narrowly avoiding the bullets, he hushed air in through his throat, and melded his lungs like a bank.

Meanwhile, Iris fought with tenacity. Using the gravel as her spring, she pushed all the strength in her body to her foot, and sent her flying. With her right hand, she thrust it deep in her pocket, and took out a simple rolling pin.

“You’re finished!”

Fortunately for her, Doug had his eyes on Luke rather than her. For a split second, he jumped back, although his body wobbled and creased from his weight.

And in the next second, his whole stomach felt warm.

Running down into his pants, he gasped in shock at the sudden release of blood. With his eyes, and in slow motion, he saw a glint of a blade glide across his body. He stumbled backward, as the woman with purple hair held a …

“Luke. Hold Doug down while I deal with her.”

“Copy. W-Wait, what are you—”

“This is a kitchen utensil. Have you not seen them before?”

Luke laid his eyes on the wood, yellow carved and painted in polish.

Pushing a simple button, a long singular knife-blade shot out from the tip. Looking like it housed a secret, the handle that she grappled tightened, while her eyes laid on the chubby man. As if he was beginning to regenerate, all Iris could do was dismiss him like garbage.

Before she targeted her sights on Betty.

“Luke. Have Doug be kept on a line, while I deal with that crusty woman.”

Giving her a nod, Luke tightened his grips on his uzis, and aimed the barrels at the fallen man.

Meanwhile, Hope barely had her barrel marked on the old woman. Leaping to her right, her left, she even hopped like a bunny in order for perseverance. Unable to shoot, she felt her finger twitch the longer—

“You’re way too open.”

Charging at her, she didn’t heed to any sudden hops or leaps. No. She barreled like a bull, with Hope being in the crosshairs.

Taking a jump back, it wasn’t rapid, but it made her almost fall to the hard gravel ground. With a sudden push, the barrel lit up like a firecracker, which burned her ears and shook her soul.

“Ha…”

All too fast for her, she saw the shadow of her body. With no means to dodge or leap, it was like her whole world view was dimming within her eyes …

Until she rolled them back.

Gasping out air, she hunched forward as saliva ran down her lips. Feeling it rivet to her neck, and into her chest, she took two steps back before groveling on the ground. Wheezing out air, the culprit who did it didn’t take heed to her pain.

“You!”

Sizzling through the wind, Betty raised her eyes at the sudden thrust of fists. Feeling her heels whistle against the ground, it pushed her to hiss through lips corroded in sand. Dryness all overwhelming, she soon found herself in the greatest game of whack a mole.

One in which she was forced to play.

Hearing the air be diced and slashed, the small sound waves trembled her ears. All that she could do, all that she honed, she pushed herself to move like the wind.

“You’re open!”

Memories began to flash upon intervals.

Each thrust of her arm, she was closer to dashing bits of her skin. Trying so hard to get a slash in, it only worsened the grip she had on her rolling pin. But then came more memories.

His laugh, his smile, the way he spoke through softened words.

‘Stop failing me…’

In a battle of two women, only one had to come out on top. And being the only one to hone weapons, her knife-like blade creeped onto the faintest parts of her arms. Pushing her on the defensive, all of Betty’s body flailed in sweat.

And it didn’t take long before Iris side-stepped to the right; hard. Like advertising from her eyes entirely, she grappled the gravel, before launching herself.

‘Stop … failing …’

The way he minced words, spoke with caution, it was all too warm. And yet, it was all she could remember from him.

Too soon, she wanted to tell him something. She wanted to give him something. But it was all taken away far too soon. Leaving her in a hell with no backup, no support, how can she—

‘Stop it.’

She pushed the rolling pin in.

Everything slowed, and all that she could see were trembling pupils. Blood splattered onto her face, she dug the blade in, while seeing the old woman constrain her voice in her throat.

All the while Doug turned.

“Betty!”

Quickly turning around, all of his guard was lost. Just before he would take another step…

“Don’t.”

An uzi was placed on his back.

His eyes finally opened, Luke had the barrel locked and loaded, while keeping it where his heart was. As if he knew the weakness, he knew precisely where his vulnerable state was at, and it pushed Doug to sweat.

With Luke finally putting Doug in check, Hope barely got up with trembling knees. Her whole face paled, even Iris felt all of her body swell up by the heat. Pulling back the blade, the injury and its effects soon groveled on the gravel.

“That should suffice. I hope you lot have medics.”

“Hey ya’all! I see that you have taken care of them!”

Everyone turned their eyes toward the thick smoke. Coming from the direction of the ranch house, a single elf strolled without a care to the world. No. He limped, as his right foot dragged across the ground.

Doug only hissed through venom teeth, as he stared at the smug-filled elf.

“Sup Doug. Man, looks like the score is 1 to 0. Better luck next time, huh buddy?”

Doug could barely contain the frustration he felt, which led his fingers to twitch against his thighs. Glancing down at the trench gun he dropped, it was nestled nicely on the ground, near his boot. If he could just grab it, reload it, and—

“Tell me sir. What is the true reason that you’re against us?”

Luke felt his grip on the uzi shake, but it was a small jostle. With his finger dead on the trigger, he had his body straighten, and his boots strained to the ground.

As Betty groveled on the ground, she had her hands onto her stomach. Trying to heal, or rather cover her wounds with her hands, it painted her skin red.

“We had no malicious intention, and we didn’t mean to cause excess damage to your tower. Whatever it is, please tell us…”

“You’d think I would tell you the reason? Please…”

Doug didn’t take heed to the trench gun, as he pushed his hands in his pockets. Although he had no gadgets, he had only a simple lighter, one that held nothing in uniqueness. But he didn’t take it out.

Scoffing out the words, he glanced at Iris, who picked Hope up like she was a princess.

“I’d rather let you shoot me now, before I tell you anything.”

Whether he wanted to get that info or not, Doug wasn’t willing to talk. With a barrel to his chest, and with no end in sight, all Luke could do was strangle his gums in dryness. If he were to shoot, he would kill. But he didn’t want to kill. No matter the person, he didn’t want to get blood on his hands. That wasn’t who he was. Even when the enemy was right there, what reason would he kill? For what purpose?

…

He heard rumbling.

Looking toward the direction of the ranch house, Luke and everyone else stared at the stampede of incoming donkeys. Manhandled by Pacithiests yet again, sight was returned to them at last.

Stopping right in front of the group, all of them settled their boots on the gravel. One particular soldier stopped near Luke, his fur latched in dark brown. He had bunny-ears, and his nose was short and shaded in slight pink.

“Luke right? Did you get what you came here for?”

“M-Me? Well …”

“Either way, nobody got hurt. Should be grateful. A scenario like this is pretty much a miracle to people like us.”

Luke softly nodded at the bunny-human’s words, as his barrel was still clocked on Doug’s back. While everyone regained the after effects of battle, only one major injury was in dispute.

Beginning to bleed ever more, it made Hope twitch her fingers at her suffering. Although all the air in her lungs was squeezed out, by her punch alone, she showed mercy. Same as Luke, her coughs for life only worsened the consciousness he had in his mind.

While Iris held Hope’s shoulder, as she glared at Betty.

“Let me attend to my wife. I’m a medic, one of the few that specializes in bleeding. Just please … let me stitch her …”

“Oh what now? After trying to kill us, you expect mercy?”

“I won’t gun you down. Me nor my men.”

Doug ignored the trench gun. In fact, he even kicked it away, as the sudden kick slid into the bushes. His hands to his sides, he could only stare at his bleeding wife.

Luke loosened his hold on the trigger, but he still kept the barrel firm. Jumbo meanwhile cocked his head to the right, and furrowed his brow.

“You swear on your life?”

“I swear on my soul. Just let me run to her…”

“Sighs … Let him be.”

Pulling away the barrel, he allowed Doug the chance to run. And in that instant, he did what he told himself to do.

With Jumbo huffing out a scoff, he turned toward the stables that housed hordes of donkeys. All looking to be covered in green, Jumbo pointed his finger, which made Luke turn toward its direction. Upon setting eyes, a small sigh escaped from him.

“We’re going to have to ride donkeys…”

“What do you expect? A brown van emerging from the shadows? Donkeys will be your best bet out of here.”

Luke glanced at the hill, in which housed Jack and his casual sniper. Along with the van, he knew that taking the van inward would be easy. But again, it would draw way too much attention.

“I’ll tie Miles to his donkey. Jimbo, can you help Hope with hers.”

“It’s Jumbo.”

“S-Sorry. Hehe…”

With Hope being groggy, Jumbo helped her get on top of the green donkey. As Luke walked toward Miles, Sean did too, leaving the two of them to carry him. Being six and a half feet tall, Miles was by no means skinny or light.

But that didn’t matter, as they managed to push Miles on top. As Luke pushed his hand in his pocket, he took out a rope, and began wrapping it around the donkey’s neck, and Miles’s wrist. Finishing the knot, he then turned toward Sean.

“Alright. Get on your donkey Sean, we got to leave.”

“Really? Right now?”

“What do you think? Are we missing anything?”

“Well … now that you mention it, we’re missing Luna and the others.”

“Oh yeah you’re right.”

That same donkey, the one that laughed and croaked with a wheezing voice, walked toward Luke. Having its nuzzle facing down, its ears flapped, along with its tail. Looking like it was happy, it had its nose merely grazing his right shoulder.

Softly petting it, he allowed his palm to graze the coarse fur. And it didn’t take long before he quickly got on.

“Sean … you ready?”

“Ready as I ever will be.”

The two of them finally turned toward the Southern side.

With the flames of the crops ever growing, they had to ride through. At the speed of a runaway train, it wouldn’t take long before the flames reach their position. Knowing of that, Luke narrowed his eyes as he glanced back at Sean …

And even the two or three donkeys they grabbed.

“Then let’s get them back.”

Once they began galloping, only two people were near the dead battle.

Having her head resting on his lap, he had a simple medkit near his thigh. Having a needle within his fingers, he had his left hold onto her stomach.

‘Just hold on dear…’

Stitching the wound like it was cloth, he pinpointed his eyes on the skin that hung. Blood riveting downward, it even groveled the ground in red.

As if he memorized the sewing by hand, he glanced toward the Southern side, where the flames roared. Seeing the group ride, their galloping worsened his eyes, as they grew red.

‘There’s one man that’ll stop them…’

________________________________________________________________________

(Reverence 3, 59 / 12:27AM)

Their faces boiled like hardened shrimp. Fog began to surround them, but it wasn’t dimmed. As Benn, Christian, and Chris sulked in the abhorrent fumes, the three of them perked their ears upward.

As they turned toward the East, and noticed the galloping of a dozen donkeys. “That’s a lot of donkeys.” Said Christian.

“Then that means …” Chris muttered, as he stared at the group of creatures.

Two specific donkeys lead the group, with one man having a side bang covering his right eye.

It didn’t take long before they reached the three of them, as the galloping softened against the dirt. The smoke somewhat fading, Luke was the one to stop right in front of Benn.

“Where’s Luna?”

“She and Pacifica took their fight toward the barn. Right over there.”

Christian pointed his finger to the North, where the barn sat.

Tightening his grip on the reins, he saw what lay in front of that barn. Keeping track of three dots, he couldn’t detail their outlines. Huffing from his lips, he loosened his grip on the reins.

“She’s not making our job easier…”

As Christian and Chris got onto their donkeys, Christian himself allowed his legs to rest against its thighs. Feeling its body tighten under his dominance, he then turned to look at Luke.

“Me and Chris will gallop toward Jack. You better make sure my sister is safe. Her and your girlfriend.”

“W-W-What!? Me and Luna aren’t dating!”

“Wait what? I thought you guys were … ah nevermind.”

Tucking their tails between their legs, they began their gallop towards the Southern hill. With Luke flustered in red, Sean could only chuckle to himself, making him turn his stare on the barn.

Clicking his tongue, he narrowed his eyes forward.

Once Benn settled nicely on his donkey, he patted it once for it to soften.

“Luke. Are you ready?”

“Y-Yeah. Let’s just go…”

Tapping slightly on the donkey’s thigh, he felt the whiplash of the creature sprinting forward. With Sean and Benn following suit, the three of them rode, as their galloping swerved their organs back and forth. As Hope and Miles were led back by Christian and Chris, they rode through garlic.

All the way toward the barn…

There was a battle that only liquids could fulfill. The gravel sizzling by its contents, a faint sniff would be lethal, but only for the common joe.

A tanned beauty slid back with groveling boots, as the pebbles and loosened rock scruffled the ground. Even Pacifica, who leaped right and left repeatedly, shackled her toes to perform her ballad. One that she honed with liquid.

“Watcha got there!?”

Deflecting a javelin, it rose up toward the sky like a ball. Within Pacifica’s right palm, a stringy substance wiggled near her fingers, as she waved her hand back and forth. Defending herself from every attack, the exploding javelins that held bleach couldn’t burn her body.

As it evaporated into steam.

“Oh wait, you girl is shit! Your arms are shit!”

“Fuck off!”

Throwing another javelin, it was forward, but angled down near her feet. Narrowly jumping back, Pacifica felt her soul hanging on the edge of her throat. But even so, she waved the wiggly liquid with ease, like a toy that most women used for pleasure.

“Damnit! Eat this you bitch!”

Sliding her right foot back, she let go of the shield that was hardened in bleach. Having it drop to the gravel, she thrusted forward, and had her hand grapple the javelin with tightened fingers.

Spinning it like it was a helicopter blade, bits of bleach dribbled from the tips.

“Woah!”

Narrowly avoiding a single slash, her bob-cut hair swayed with the wind. Outmaneuvering the sharp tips, she spun around with toes wrinkling her boots. Once finishing her spin, she leaped back, and allowed a small grin to plaster her face.

“Almost had-had me huh?”

Vivy widened her eyes the most she could.

Glancing to her right, she arched her head all the way to the left. Like seeing the whole world in slow motion, she blinked once, as she lost footing with the very ground she strained. Swinging her foot around, she tried to block whatever attack that was trying to land … but unfortunately…

Metal collided with bone.

“Ah!”

Yelping out a meek cry, she pulled back her right foot. Hissing out the pain, straining her cheeks in veins, she felt like her gums began to condense into black. But before she could topple onto herself, she growled upon the woman who—

“You you you you—”

“Eat ass!”

Crouching down, she dodged a sudden burst of a javelin. Feeling the top of her hair be grazed against, Luna held her breath, before thrusting her right sword. And with her left, she laid it near her thigh, with both blades glittering under the embers to the East.

As the two women fought, Luna swung her swords with flashing lights. Trying to land a slash on her, Vivy tiptoed through the gravel, as all of her weight was on her toes. But in back of her, she felt the presence of glaring eyes trample her soul.

“Heeya!”

Without thinking, Vivy jumped high with sprung feet.

Spinning her javelin, she threw it down on the both of them. Once its tips barreled onto gravel, it exploded, unleashing the excrement that held within the—

Both women shielded themselves from bleach, all by the usage of something else. Something that Pacifica helmed dear. Summoning a layer of liquid, like a door, the liquid steamed once both liquids made contact.

“Damnit!”

As soon as gravity descended her down, she growled, and allowed her hand to glow. Crafting a shield with both hands, she had it pointed down toward them, mostly because—

Sparks fluttered.

Blocking Luna’s sword, she tightened all of her jaws which strained her gums. Finally having a footing on the ground, Vivy jumped back, and allowed her heels to scrape through the gravel. All the while her breath began to fasten.

[You’re doing great Vivy.]

His voice gave her strength. To move forward, to fight on. Crafting yet another javelin, some of the leather of her heel chipped from friction.

[Hone your technique with perfection. Perfection Vivy.]

Some of her scleras grew red.

Throwing away her shield, she instead allowed both her hands to mold javelins. Two at the same time, she copied exactly like how Luna holds her swords. Spinning them around, she crouched down, and waited for Luna’s launched attack.

‘Perfection is key … perfection is …’

She sprang like an over-charged toy. Denting the very ground with her foot, she growled from the inside of her throat. Pulling back both of her arms, she bulged all she had, and tried to assert herself as … as what?

A fighter? If so, then why precisely a defensive fighter? If she really wanted to fight, wouldn’t she be … but …

‘Is key…’

Without blinking, Luna stalled her leaping status.

No air to dwell in her lungs, she wide-eyed Vivy who also stalled. Being right in front of her, not a single breath was drawn from the both of them; as they looked into each other's eyes. Until Luna pushed up a smirk.

“Guess you failed.”

—There was someone in back of her.—

Without feeling any pain, Vivy stalled all of her lower body. In fact, she felt it burn her feet up to her thighs. Like something was holding her down, without tumbling her to the ground, she hissed through whitened teeth.

As she began to turn around with a constrained neck.

Daggering her eyes inward, she still felt the stinging pain that burned. Seeing that Pacifica was behind her, it eventually led her to the conclusion that—

“Damn you…”

Luna pulled her body back, and saw the javelin failed to mark a scratch. No blood, it was all a trick to make her fall for even a second. Their strategy in feathers, both Luna and Pacifica smirked as Vivy groaned.

“Now indulge in this.”

The liquid that she was covered in worsened. Wrapping it around all of her body, it stopped at the baseline of her neck. Gasping out air, she huffed through her parched throat, until she couldn’t take it any longer.

Screaming out through vein-filled cheeks, all of her face was clouded in anger. Pain mixed with frustration, Luna and Pacifica both scoffed at the mini torture she was enduring.

While Luna turned her eyes toward the west.

“Hmm … looks like we did it.”

One or two guards stood with buckled knees, mostly because their top guard was screaming her lungs out. Luna waved both her blades, and Pacifica shook her hands that exhausted her power. Staring at the guards, the two of them couldn’t move … which left them to smirk.

“You want us to come over there?! Beat it!”

“Want to give them a good time?”

“I don’t like picking on losers. I may be a bitch, but I ain’t a bully.”

“Aww, cheer-cheer up—”

They felt their backs being heated.

Turning around, both Luna and Pacifica stared at the barn South of them. All around its walls, and the roof, the wood that made up the structure was engulfed in flames. Glistening both of their eyes, the wind from the fiery crops had flown onto their faces, creating an oven heat.

‘What the hell…’

—Then the doors swayed open.—

Kicking it down with only one boot, was a man clad in all black. Black fedora, black jacket, black pants; even his leather boots screamed death. Both of his hands gripping onto something, his aura alone pushed Pacifica to take a step back.

While Luna dropped her blades.

She froze. She widened. She paled. She feared that her soul might be taken out from her.

Because coming out from that barn, was a man who was all too familiar. Wielding chainsaws, he had fingers gripping onto them like iron … as her memories began to carve at her.