Arc 3 - Chapter 60: GRIT I

(Reverence 6, 59 / 7:55PM)

Returning to Stan’s group…

Rope wrapped around her arms, along with her stomach. With guns aimed at her, they all gripped the ground with digging boots. Hearing a low growl, the leader Stan felt piercing eyes lay on him.

“Release me now! You regret it if you don’t listen!”

“What are you gonna do, touch us to death?”

“Oh it involves touching alright! A lot of touching in a lot of places!”

Both of her shoes squeezing the floor, the tips of them wrinkled. Narrowing her eyes, Alexandra arched her whole body forward, as if she was ingesting frustration. Feeling the rope tug, shake even, Loraine felt her own hands struggle to keep her at bay… until Alexandra twisted her whole body. Spinning with the tips of her shoes, she sent the teenage girl to fly because of her tightened grip.

“Open fire!”

Three men thundered the air with their bullets. The entirety of the train cart rattling in noise, the female spartan put on a smirk, before lunging to the right. The bullets not even grazing her, they all flew toward random walls in back of her. Her cheeks flustering pinkish red, each man continued to rapid fire.

“My turn to shine~”

With a single lunge forward, the air around her rippled. Some of them feeling the force, the gust that she brought, it was enough to make them wobble their legs. Stan stopped firing, and slid his shoes against the flooring. Meanwhile, Gary and Diego pushed their backs against the wall.

Saliva gasped from Gary’s mouth.

“Gasps…”

Holding back on her punch, he didn’t roll or flew by her iron-like knuckles. Making him loosen his legs, his footing rested on his knees rather than his shoes. One second passed.

Something quarreled Diego’s left eye. Without turning around, he bared the impact of a fist. Diego slumped his back against the wall. Air wheezing out of his throat, it only left Stan and Fred, along with…

“Leave them alone!”

Side-stepping to her right, the bottom of her lips churned to her jaw. Twirling her body, she put pressure on her toes before lunging. With open palms, she tried to grab or get a hold of the teenage girl. Moving on the metal surface like a figure skating ring, it wasn’t until Loraine threw her nylon rope.

Dodging her rope with ease—bullets roared the train cart once more.

Taking note of the flying metal, it was all from Stan’s barrel. As his whole body throttled in the recoil, Loraine pictured a glimpse of a blurred body. All griseled in black, she felt her soul teeter on the edge of her throat. After all, she noticed a hand reach out to her.

“Ha…”

But she felt no fingers. No palm or warmth. With barely open eyes, she squinted at the woman who twirled to grab a tall man’s wrist; his hair colored silver.

“Never took you to be the combat type~”

Razor blades dangling on the sides of a rope, it looked to house thousands of reflections. Shimmering its ghastly metal, Fred’s knees buckled, and his whole body teetered on his toes.

“How about liftoff~?”

He was lifted, then spun, before launching toward the bar. Hitting his legs against the stools, he gasped, as the sudden collision made him groan. Stan stood with quivering eyes. Feeling like he was being preyed on, he took a breath, before lowering his barrel.

“I know my limits, and I know the consequences that may follow.” Tucking his rifle into his jacket, he kept it stored like food in a fridge. His nails finally gliding across his hip, he grappled onto something metallic. Pulling it out, a smirk pressed against his face.

“Yet I don’t know when to stop.”

“Cute~”

Sparks emitted from his police baton. Having electricity stored in its tip, he had his right hand squeeze the grip. Feeling time tick itself away, he calmly breathed through mellow nostrils. “Come here muchacha.”

A burst of air escaped from her single lunge, but her direction wasn’t forward. Stan kept his footing firm.

‘Where is she…’

A teenage girl jumped back with widened eyes. Moving across the metallic floor, small scraps of leather burnt from her gliding. Not only that, but she felt the contents of her stomach shift. Having her rope dangle on her side, she couldn’t throw it out at random, once the spartan was already in front of her.

“Shoot!”

Because Stan put away his rifle, nothing was going to stop her. Bullets thundered the cart once more. Noticing two different types, Alexandra leaped to her sides like a ballerina. Using only her hind toes, a small chuckle tore out from her. In fact, all of her face glittered out warmth.

“Oh how I love this~!”

Hunching her whole body forward, she zipped straight toward Loraine. Without hesitation, she grabbed the ends of her pigtails.

“Hehe…”

Loraine chuckled a grin out of her own. If Alexandra was trying to hold her down, try to grapple her with her hand, then why should she stop? She was strong, she was fast, it would be easy to do so without obstacles.

“What?”

“Gotcha!”

Wrapping around her, or rather them, was the same nylon rope Loraine used. With her body pressed against Alexandra, she felt the woman’s breasts, to which Loraine cringed. Struggling to breathe, she crinkled out a command that held little oxygen.

“Get her guys…!”

“On it.”

With Gary and Diego barely recovering, they struggled to stand as pain wallowed in their stomachs. Even from a single punch, the air in their body was pushed out by force. The two of them aiming down their guns, they opened fire with whatever they had.

Although she couldn’t escape the rope, she had some movement within her feet. She grappled with her shoes… and jumped high. Catapulting herself and Loraine toward the ceiling, gravity began to descend her down. Narrowly avoiding the collection of bullets, it—

“Not so fast.”

She felt something sting her. Like a collection of wasps or hornets pecking at her feet, she hissed air through her lips. Looking down, she saw a hundred shining lights blinking into—

“H-Huh…?”

Using both of his arms, Fred’s biceps and triceps squeezed themselves together. Pulling them down forcingly her own back dented the metallic floor. Gasping out saliva, her eyes strained a crimson red.

“Damn you boys… you’re making me angry…”

While Gary and Diego reloaded, Loraine still kept her rope tugging into her. And with Fred having his razor blades latched on the agent’s feet, he made sure that she wouldn’t escape.

“What now?”

“She’ll try to escape like last time. We don’t want to repeat another time, or else she might really get all of us.”

Having his baton low to his side, he clicked the button so that he conserved power. No light to sparkle in his eyes, Stan moved his attention toward the silver-haired man. Still feeling pain swallow his back, Fred stood with scrunched up eyes.

“Fred. Didn’t you or Luke create some liquid that could knock people out?”

“In how?”

“It’s like a knockout liquid. You put it in a rag, and cover their nose with it. I don’t know how long it takes, but it puts them to sleep.”

“Wait… wait! I think I still have that rag.” Moving one yo-yo to his other, it was so that his left was free from the base. As his right carried the two, he bit gently on his tongue, as he trailed his pockets for anything eye-rising. He felt something wet, as it brushed past his nails. “It’s named chloroform. You have to mix methane with chlorine at burning temperatures.”

Taking out a rag, he showcased it with an extended hand. Stan trailed his eyes on the white cloth, as wrinkles graveled the edges and sides. Small specks of mold growing inside, Stan moved his eyes onto Alexandra.

“Do you have a bottle.”

“No, but I could think of—”

—The back door bursted open.—

Spinning their bodies toward the open door, was a group of guards all lining with rifles. Without thinking, they opened fire, unleashing a battalion of lead from their barrels. Barely having any cover between them, the four men scrambled toward the bar. One by one, each member holed themselves inside of the bar, while Loraine and Alexandra were still snuggled tight; out in the open.

“What about those two?”

“Those guards won’t shoot her. For all they knew, we are the biggest threats there are.”

“True. But what if they cut open the rope?”

“I think Loraine knows by now what will happen…”

While bullets roared from above, Alexandra wiggled around like a worm. Trying her hardest to escape, the rope that bounded around her doubled in tightness. Feeling air coarse her throat, she roared her command through jumping vocals.

“Release me now you brat!”

“Can’t! You’re stuck with me now!”

“Why you!”

Wanting to tug at her hair, or to at least knock on her noggin, she couldn’t. With Loraine acting like a martyr, all Alexandra could do was growl. The men who took cover felt trickles of sweat run down their temples.

“Stan? Have any vials Luke gave you?”

“Only this one.”

Using his left hand, he took out a small vial laced in white air. By just feeling the capsule, some of his skin was tickled by the sheer coldness of it. The three stared at him, like they were waiting for him.

“What?”

“Do something with that will ya?!” Exclaimed Gary.

“How about you do something!”

“Found ya!”

A guard tumbled over the bar. Collapsing hard to the floor, they heard the thump, while more bullets zipped by. Boxed in, they now had to deal with the guard who—Diego dueled him, and he easily won. Lying on the floor unconscious, Diego pushed his revolver back into his holster. Waving hair from his side, he chuckled to himself.

“Fastest hand in the west.”

“Yeah yeah cowboy, thin em out will you?”

“Sure thing. Gary, coming?”

“Can’t let you hog all of them.”

Crawling on the floor, they had their guns within their primary hands. Hearing the bullets beginning to slow, it seemed as if they were reloading. And upon hearing the ruffling of footsteps, Gary and Diego knew their enemies were taking position.

All the while Stan pushed out a grin.

“They’re finally showing their fighting potential.”

“About time.”

Clocking in ammo, the mechanism clicked their ears, as they finalized their reload. Although they were not built for combat, they were trained to be elite soldiers. Nodding at each other once, Diego noticed a couch a few meters to his right.

“Cover me.”

Patting his shoulder, Gary poked his head out of cover and opened fire. Although he didn’t take aim, he nonetheless fired with squinted pupils. Having a firm grip on his pistol, the recoil rippled down his body, mostly because of his overweight stature. Diego rolled to the couch, his clothing disfigured from the maneuver. Pressing his back against it, he spun the chamber, and counted six bullets in there.

‘Time for action.’

Poking his head out of cover, Diego didn’t need time. All he needed was a target. Pinning it on some random guard, he made sure that his gun wasn’t below the guard’s height, and he pulled the trigger.

“Grah!”

In less than a second, that same guard fell to the ground.

Gary lifted his body upward, and took aim and fired. Pulling the trigger three times in two seconds, two more guards collapsed. Sprawling on the ground, blood rummaged out of their mouths…

“No…”

A subtle whisper emerged from Alexandra. Loraine felt the woman’s body tighten, as if she was taking in a surging amount of frustration. Feeling her anger, the tightness of the nylon rope began to weaken.

‘Oh no…’

Half of the group of guards still remaining, Gary took out a small cardboard box from his pocket. Hearing the bullets jingle, he started to reload, as he clocked in lead after lead into the magazine. Diego lowered his head, as a single bullet zipped past his ear.

“Too close!”

For a split second, fear graveled his whole body. But quenching his breath, he shot out from the ground, and had it low to his hip. Pulling the trigger, the recoil that rippled his body only shook his lower, while a piece of lead lodged into another guard.

“No.”

Alexandra wiggled relentlessly, as drool rummaged down her chin. Hearing her roar through sealed lips, Loraine’s nylon rope twitched and creaked the longer she shifted. Bit by bit, strands of it snapped, making Loraine’s biceps down to her thighs strangle in stress.

Knowing the rope was about to burst, veins scoured her white scleras.

‘She’s… she’s going to…’

As soon as Gary finished reloading, Diego lowered his body underneath the couch. And upon queue, Gary aimed the barrel at two guards. Looking like they were the only ones still shooting, a subtle smirk spread across his face.

‘Bingo.’

In one second, two bullets thundered across the train cart. Finishing the last of the guards, Gary’s pistol whispered gunsmoke. He glanced down at the pistol he carried. For a man that was burdened by body weight, along with lack of combat, the only thing that carried him was his aim.

“I did it. Diego we—”

Time ebbed in slow motion. Without blinking, something blurred within his left eye. Moving his arms, and his body, he tried to… white plastered his vision, and his back slammed against the wall. Feeling his back crackle, every bit of oxygen in his body bursted from his mouth. Spraying saliva down his jacket, he slumped down to the ground, his butt hitting the floor firm.

‘What was…’

Diego turned, and he too saw a blur of black free from its prison. His revolver below his hip, he flung the barrel four times. For such a fast draw…

‘I—’

But air burst free from his mouth. This time, he was sent flying, until gravity pushed him to the ground. Rolling against the metal, his shoulders and back thumped repeatedly until he crashed into a wall. His throat wallowing out air, he tried to breathe, but it was a manual suction.

With two down, Alexandra cocked her head to the right to relieve stress. Hissing air out of her lips, she spun her body, and saw a single man with a gripping baton.

“You made me do this…”

The tip emitting electricity, her eyes couldn’t glow against the blue light. Redness straining the front and bottom, only her pupils and irises were free. Without lunging herself forward, she lunged straight toward the ginger-haired elf who lunged right.

Moving right near the bar, he didn’t allow a trace of air to escape his mouth. Keeping it all in his lungs, the swiftness of his knees and legs acted like jello. The tips of his shoes scraping against the metal, it wasn’t long before his thighs slammed against the cocktail table.

“You need to cool off!”

Because he had his right hand grip his baton, his left was stacked in his pocket. Pulling it out, he threw it underhand. Not knowing what it was, she let it hurl toward—

—A gust of white encapsulated her. —

For about a single second, she was within that white cloud of ice. Lunging back, her whole body struggled to flow in warmth. Wheezing out empty air, she tumbled back, as her eyes frosted with miniscule icicles upon her eyelashes.

Stan, who was on the edge of the ice cloud, side-stepped to the left to avoid the air. Once he was safe, he began his walk toward the barely breathing woman.

“Graaaah!”

No saliva marinated her throat, not even her gums. Her face pale like a ghost, she limped herself to the right, and threw a single punch toward him. He dodged it with ease. Thrusting his baton forward, the tip reached right where her wound was, that same one Diego inflicted.

“AAAH!!”

It was like a lightning bolt had struck her. Keeping the electricity running, every nerve and muscle in her body tensed. Clenching themselves together, all of her body seized and spazzed like a fish out of water. Still trying to breathe, still trying to see through blurry eyes, they already rolled to the back of her head, until her arms and legs finally went limp.

Pulling back his baton, the female spartan collapsed hard to the floor. Her fingers twitching erratically, small jitters released from her back. Stan’s breathing hardened the more he stared at her.

“There… now stay down…”

Clicking the button to his baton, he strapped it onto his holster. Pushing it in, he turned toward Fred, who was already mingling with the wine bottles in the back.

“It’s over Fred, she’s knocked out cold. Literally.”

“What? I was just about to crack the—”

—Another door bursted open.—

This time, it was from the train cart they were supposed to cross. Turning their eyes over, they noticed a single man, a guard who wore brown khaki clothing. He didn’t carry a rifle, nor a weapon that he could use.

Instead, both of his hands were balled.

“Did you do this?”

Stan noticed the gaze down below, right where Alexandra struggled to breathe. “And if we did?”

“How, how dare…”

“Hey she started it.” Said Fred.

“D-Damn you!”

Noticing the many sprawled out guards, single bullet holes riddled their bodies. Knowing this, the guard hunched his body forward, and clenched down on his teeth. Letting the sparks from his enamels ember, all of his body struggled to hold the frustration.

“I’ll make sure you regret this.”

The sun to the west began to fade. Thrusting his hand into his pocket, the guard shifted his knuckles against countless objects. But once his nails brushed against glass, he didn’t widen his eyes. No, he glared.

“Fred…”

“What is in that syringe?”

“I don’t know. G-Gary! Diego!”

Unfortunately for Stan, the two sharpshooters groaned and moaned from their injuries. Seeing that they were out of commission for now, he turned his eyes toward the last bastion of—

Lorraine wiggled, her whole body wrapped around a piece of rope. Looking like it wasn’t hers, Stan wrinkled his cheeks up to his forehead.

“Fred! Get Loraine out of that rope!”

“On it!”

Pushing his baton onto his holster, he moved his hands toward the rifle he carried in his jacket. But by the time his fingers clutched onto metal… the guard pushed the syringe into his arm. The man dropped on all fours. Clutching his stomach, a death-thrilling scream tore from his throat.

‘What hell is… what is he doing?’

All of his body shivered, as the scream he roared out molested their ears, until his body started to bulge.

His bones, muscles, skin, nerves, tissue; everything mutilated and terraformed. His shoes and pants being ripped apart, his jacket and shirt followed suit. Even his head wasn’t safe. His nose protruding to a snout, and his eyes and face pushed into his skull, his roar slowed, while his body simmered in a flowing black.

“Stan…”

“I’m seeing this too Fred.”

The guard’s fingers, if they could call it a guard, had claws half a foot long. All of his hair missing from view, and black liquid flowing from his skin, his whole body rose to the height of the roof. Standing on its hind legs, was—

—A charger.—

Like a fountain, tar dribbled from its mouth, down to its feet. Ingesting it into its ankles, it flowed upward like veins, all the way toward its mouth. Memories began to play; for everyone inside that cart.