Death of Mercy

Ten years have passed since the deaths of the others, and at this point Soul and Melody had become quite well-known names in some areas for their good actions. They had left the Bounty Hunters Association and decided to become individual contractors to help others who they could find needed help or came to them directly. Because of this, they had done quite amazing things for their local areas, even taking down corrupt knights of a nearby kingdom. They had bought a home in this town and decided to become local heroes, finally settling down after years of their work. The house is on the outskirts of town near a river.

The smell of coffee and fresh food filled the air as the sun beamed down on everyone, and the wind flowed through Melody's hair with the window open, having a slight smell of the flowers outside that recently bloomed entering the house also. Melody took a sip of her coffee while sat next to the window as she heard Soul walk down the stairs.

“The ten-year anniversary of the incident is gonna happen soon, dear. We should go to their graves and place down some more flowers soon, anyway. The last ones we placed must be looking quite sad at this point,” Soul said as he walked down the stairs of their newly bought small home.

“Yeah… yeah, we should do that. I miss them a lot sometimes, even though it's been so long. The way Prince would talk was a little dumb, but it had its charm. We learned a lot from Stalin, and man, did Chase's super speed make things so much easier sometimes. You're quick, dear, but it was nothing compared to that guy. Every one of them were so special. At least they're with their families now. I wonder if they're looking down on us right now,” Melody said somberly while sat with a coffee looking outside the window.

“I think they are. Maybe they're the reason we've been able to be so successful at our jobs. They've been silently giving us their power,” Soul said as he sat down next to Melody.

“Oh, that's poo—it ain't true, and you know that, haha. It's a nice thought, though. Maybe tell that to someone more gullible, dear,” Melody said.

“Oh, so you're gonna tell the master of souls what happens to the dead? I say you should listen to my little stories too, and not just those we save,” Soul remarked.

“Yeah, it may be a nice little thing to think about, but it's also not good to lie to ourselves. Remember when we were little and Chase read those books, and it told us how the heavens and the hells were destroyed?” Melody remarked.

“Yeah, I do. It's why we don't kill, and you feel so awful when it happens. The poor guys don't go anywhere—it's awful. It's like being erased, I imagine. And those who deserve an eternal damnation don't exactly get it. The good get punished, and the evil get off too easily, in my opinion,” Soul stated.

“Well, let's not get all gloomy right this early in the morning. Some knights are gonna be coming over in a bit to congratulate us for our work we did earlier a few weeks back, and tell us about the plans they have for a public celebration. So much more credit than when we were bounty hunters. Who said this was a thankless job lied, hehe,” Melody said while giggling.

“The bounties sure did pay far more than a monthly wage from a small kingdom. They don't exactly have the most money to give us,” Soul remarked.

“Well, good thing we aren't doing this for money,” Melody said snarkily.

“Yeah, yeah, baby, I know, I know. I'm not saying I'd stop if they stopped paying or anything. It's our responsibility and whatnot,” Soul said as he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

“And ‘whatnot’? Okay, Soul, you sound oh-so believable. Some more money would be nice, though—I'm not gonna sit here and lie either, hahaha,” Melody said while looking him in the eyes and taking another sip of her coffee.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

Was the sound the door made, as the knights had arrived to debrief the two for the festival that was about to happen for them. As they opened the door, two knights came into their house and sat down with them and started to talk about the plans for later today when suddenly Melody just collapsed. The three of them rushed toward Melody to see what was wrong, and both the knights collapsed. Soul started to feel drowsy but managed to stay awake. While trying to get his bearings, Soul is—

“Huh, seems like you managed to stay awake. Good. You'll suffer even more while you watch what we do to you and the lady over there.”

Confused, Soul looked around him. “Who the hell are you? Show yourself, coward, and fight like a ma—”

Before Soul could finish his sentence, his jaw was broken as he was punched through the wall. And Melody not many moments later appeared right next to him with bruises on her stomach. Soul's mouth healed quickly as he got up and got ready to fight.

“Oximalesotine.”

“What?” Soul said in a confused tone.

“Oximalesotine. A chemical nerve agent—almost impossible to get unless you have some connections in the LihnRour family. Real useful when fighting ones like her who can just phase through matter. Only issue is getting it in the bloodstream since it takes a second. Being a knight ain't all it's cracked up to be in my opinion. But being able to get stuff like this without being even questioned on why I would need it sure is nice. For the daughter of the smartest woman alive, Miagant ain't real smart herself, it seems, haha.”

“Who the hell are you!” Soul screamed out as a figure finally walked out of the hole that was made when he and Melody got launched through the wall.

“Crimson. Count Crimson—the guy with blood powers ya girl over there nearly killed when we first fought a few years ago. You and ya lil misses over there should have finished the job. Now I also got a personal vendetta outside the fact that a few years back, you stopped a couple operations for my boss, and he kinda got tired of it. Indo is a busy, busy man, and he can't have his stuff just being meddled with because you idiots want to play hero. You ain't nothin' compared to men like Comet. So fragile, so small, so… weak,” Crimson said.

“Shut your stupid mouth and just fi—” Before Soul could finish his sentence again, suddenly his vision went red as Crimson moved so quickly that Soul couldn't even see as he punched him in the throat and flung shards of hardened blood through it. As he reeled back from pain, he was picked up by the throat by him again and launched into the floor with such force it left a crater. Crimson walked over and stomped on his face over and over and over again until it became a bloody mess on the ground. Then he took that blood of his and hardened it around his fist.

“Finally. You think it'd be easier to get a regenerator to bleed, but man, your body sure didn't want to. Guess it knew what was coming,” Crimson said snarkily with an ear-to-ear grin.

He used his powers to enter Soul's bloodstream and contorted his body, forcing him to watch as he repeatedly pummeled his wife into the ground. Blood spurting from her with every hit, her bones crushed under the force of each hit. As Soul was forced to sit there and watch, no matter how hard he resisted, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move. Not even strong enough to move his mouth to scream, to say no, to at least plead for Melody's life as he pummeled her over and over. He lifted his fist and shook the blood off into Soul's eyes.

“There. Now you can see her forever.” Crimson then relinquished control over Soul's body and hardened his own with an external blood armor. Soul stood up and rushed Crimson, hitting him with a flurry of strikes. He used so much force that his very hands broke over and over as he punched, trying his absolute hardest to hurt him in any way.

At this point in time, a crowd had grown around them of both knights and citizens, soldiers and some mercenaries who called the town home. When Soul noticed, he screamed out for help.

“HELP, PLEASE! HE CAN'T BE ALLOWED TO DO SUCH THINGS. Please, I beg of you, help us. If not me, at least Melody—I can't even feel her soul anymore. But please, at least someone try something,” Soul yelped out.

As he pleaded, Crimson picked him up and threw him onto the ground, placing his foot on his chest.

“Oh, poor thing. You think these guys are gonna help you? You may have been here for a while, but you're still a stranger to almost everyone here. Ain't no one gonna risk their neck for you—it's suicide. Even if you do live past today, who they gonna believe? The random who did a couple of good things? Or the knight that's been protecting their lives for years? These buggers here know not to speak a word, or they may be next. Ha. Haha. HAHAHA. You poor, weak little thing. Almost makes me feel bad… Almost,” Crimson said as he shoved his foot through Soul's chest.

With his last few moments of consciousness, he watched as Echo was thrown into the river and Crimson, along with everyone else, just walked away as if nothing had happened. He didn't even have the lungs to scream out in protest. As the smell of blood filled Soul's nostrils and everyone was covered in this crimson red due to the blood in his eyes, he faded from consciousness. Finally, something broke inside of him that could not be repaired, and it was replaced with an uncontainable fury.

When Soul finally woke back up—hours, days, maybe even weeks later, he didn't know—his wounds were finally healed. He could no longer sense the presence of Count Crimson's soul or Melody's. He went and searched for her body by the river. He trekked for hours and hours, searching for her body. But no matter how far he went, he could find nothing—not even clues to where she might have been. He punched the floor, the trees, and anything around him in anger and frustration. Too weak once again to do absolutely anything, and this time it cost him someone he could never replace—someone a hole no one could ever fill. They were supposed to grow old together, have a family together, experience every moment of life with one another—the good and the bad—but now it had been robbed from him. For what? Doing the right thing? Letting someone live, giving them a second chance? Soul looked around him and saw a wolf approaching him with a bloodied mouth. When it got close enough, he stomped its head into the ground, absorbing the power of its soul.

“Weakling I will be no more,” Soul said quietly to himself as tears rolled down his face and into the ground, mixing with the blood of the wolf he had just killed.

For the next year, Soul spent every waking moment killing as many damn things as he could that had a soul. Monsters, animals—he took so many damn bounties he was barred from the organization since he left no work for anybody else and even killed the targets that were directly asked to be brought in alive. He even went after the man named Death at one point, but he did lose that altercation—although it lit an even stronger fire, making him go after more and more of those he deemed evil who did horrific crimes. No more shall the wicked be given mercy and the innocent receive their punishment instead.

“All those who do wrong by the innocent will have their blood drench my fist. I will free the reality of evil, even if I have to drown it in blood to achieve that.”

After a year of this crusade, Soul now donned a suit—a black suit with a white tie and a red undershirt. Now a year separate from the incident that seemingly took his wife away from him, he returned to the small town and stood over it, with the souls of hundreds—no, thousands—no, hundreds of thousands—maybe even millions of dead on his hands. With the powers of these souls swimming through his body, screaming fiercely with pure power.

He looked down at this town, and all he saw was black—not a speck of a single good soul lived within its walls anymore to him. And with a single flick of the wrist, he snapped downward, and the launch of soul energy was so strong and so violent that it destroyed everything under it. The town may as well have been turned to ash with how unrecognizable it became. Out of its entire population, not one man, woman, or child survived—or so at least Soul believed. Maybe a faint cry could be heard as he flew away, but who knows.

He traveled to a town nearby that he'd now recently made a habit of stopping by, even though some of the locals recognized him—although most didn't dare even give him a second look out of fear of being the next thing he slaughtered. He walked into the local bar that he commonly visited, and when he sat down, there was a drink already ready for him—the one he normally bought, somehow.

“Hey, the drink's on me. I heard you, Soul. Don't worry, the drink is fresh—it's the fourth time I've had it replaced. I've been here for a while.”

Soul looked over at the voice speaking and quickly noticed who he was after quickly looking him up and down, even though he was in a cloak.

“Your Father. If you don't think I'll kill you here and now, you're insane or suicidal,” Soul said sternly as he took a swig of the drink he was given.

“Oh, stop it. I'm not that famous. You really know lil ol' me? That's such a compliment, you know. But also, there's no point in us fighting. One—you'd lose. And two—how many innocent lives would be killed in that process? I don't think it's the best idea, so let's just talk a little, don't you think? I promise it'll be worth your while,” Father said with a smirk on his face.

“Sigh. Fine. What the hell do you want? Stop wasting my time,” Soul responded firmly.

“Oh, it's not what I want—it's what I know you want. You haven't killed Crimson or Loki, have you? When was the last time you even saw, hell, even heard of Aku? Even after a year—not one lead for any of them, ey?”

Soul looked over at Father and scowled at him strongly before speaking, looking him up and down and then looking at the room around them and clenching his fist before sighing again.

“Yeah. What about it?” Soul remarked.

“Well, that Crimson boy happened to have worked for someone I'm close to, but then when he became the kingpin of his own little group, he kind of just left me and my friend by the wayside. I normally don't like to get my hands dirty unless I'm doing experiments, and if ya do this for me, I'll tell ya where the other two are. Whatcha say?”

Soul looked at Father's soul—almost as dark as a soul could be—but he also noticed something familiar about it.

“LihnRour? You're related to the LihnRours? How do I know this isn't a trap for them to just catch me?” Soul asked.

“Well, boy, you're strong, but ya don't seem that bright. You think those goody-goodies associate with me? Hell no, hahaha. But yes, you are correct—that soul-seeing ability is quite nice. Didn't know you could even see family connections. I am Alphen's father, meaning I'm also Comet's grandfather. Do you really want to fight the guy who is the father to the man who was known as the Father of Heroes and the man currently known as the King of Heroes? Not the brightest idea, chap—I'm not gonna lie, hahaha,” Father said while taking a drink of the lemonade he ordered.

“Fine. I'll do your damn work. But not for you. Melody—I'm sorry, but that man has to die, and by my hand,” Soul said.

“Good boy,” Father remarked as he smirked and looked Soul in the eyes.

Soul took the information he was given and flew toward the hideout where Father said Count Crimson was. He landed in front of it—this giant thing made from the ruins of an old castle like the one where his friends died, but actually refurbished this time. He walked forward and destroyed the doors that held up this stronghold, and he walked in. There was no one in the upper levels; he only saw and felt souls below him, so he found a way down and went.

And as he walked down, he saw him at the end of a chair, sat down as if he were some kind of king. He was surrounded by his underlings—both strong and weak—and a weirdly strong presence amongst them all he couldn't place his finger on.

What felt like thousands of eyes glared at Soul in this dark, large, damp room that smelled of corpses, as if it were a cemetery for thousands of dead soldiers. Soul stared down the Crimson Count with unbridled fury in his eyes, and Count Crimson stared back and just smiled.

“Ha. HAHA. You think you can kill me just because you've gotten a wee bit stronger? Couldn't even leave a mark on me last time we passed each other. How's the wife doing, by the way?” Crimson said mockingly.

Soul still did not speak a word as his power started to violently flow through his body, and he was engulfed in energy so bright it lit up the entire room with an orange hue.

“You have two options now. Either you give up and just become my servant, or you die here and now. I should have made sure to kill you that year ago, but oh well—we all make mistakes,” Crimson said.

“I CHOOSE DEATH!!!” Soul screamed out.

Before moving so quickly that Count Crimson couldn't even react, he advanced forward and grabbed him by his head and chest before violently tearing his head from his shoulders. As he stood with the Count's head in his hands, he turned around and crushed it, having the blood splatter all over his face and torso. With his eyes and body still shaking from power and fury, he screamed out in a monstrous voice:

“WHO'S NEXT!?!”

Only a few minutes later, Soul walked out of the rubble of the hideout with the blood of every man and woman in that building drenching his body. As he looked up to the sky and screamed, a beam of soul energy—screeching with the souls of all he had killed—left his mouth, tearing through the sky so bright it confused some of the animals in the area into thinking it had turned to day suddenly. He heard slow clapping coming from the distance and saw Father walking out from some trees.

“That was far easier for you than I thought it was gonna be. A great job. I know you've grown strong, but wow—kind of impressive. Time for your next target,” Father remarked.

“Who?” Soul said in a solemn voice.

“Comet himself,” Father said seriously.

“What? Why?” Soul said, so confused his body stopped tensing.

“Do you not believe that mercy to the wicked is cruelty to the innocent? That man has done the very same sin you used to. But unlike you, he refuses to change. He refuses to evolve. Do you not think that those who will die because he refuses to truly fix things deserve to be saved? Do you not want to avoid someone else having to turn into the beast that stands in front of me?” Father said while looking into the eyes of Soul.

“You're right. I fuckin' hate you, but you're right. Fine. But I hope you know that at the end of all this, I'll take your head off your shoulders too,” Soul responded sternly.

“Only reasonable response I'd expect from you, Mr. Hero. And I'll be waiting—hahahahaha.”