Arc 3 - Chapter 68: Three Sinners

(Reverence 6, 59 / 7:01PM)

Noise filled the busy bar.

Slaving away the mugs of beer within their hands, the men chugged away their problems. Whether it be at home, at work, or even their demons; the bar was a cave. A cave to unwind, to soothe, to tone down the sins they acquired. Yet one man drank alone.

Wielding only a simple bottle, he stared blankly at the bottles of whiskey behind the bar. Seeing parts of his face within the reflections, he saw the hair-bun, his black tuxedo, his goatee. But from parts of the glass, he noticed two people walking close. Pulling from behind, the two adults sat on his left and right, and stared at the same bottles of whiskey. He didn’t glance at either side.

“What do you guys want?” Asked the man in center.

“I have a few questions.”

“So you tracked me down for a few questions? I already told you that I cut contact completely. Did you two really raid my favorite tavern? At this hour?”

“I wasn’t given a choice.”

A female bartender walked up to the three of them. Giving the cowboy, and the purple haired woman a pair of glass shots, she popped open the cork. Small steam hissing from the tip, she poured half-way, as if she gave the two a mere taste test. David curled his fingers against the glass, and drank it down with ease. Same did with Iris, as the whiskey burned down her throat.

“Are you after Luke?”

“You mean the criminal? Not exactly per say. Don’t know, it’s pretty complicated.”

“It’s not complicated at all. We are innocent. You know it.”

“You make it sound so… simple.”

Gabriel raised his left hand toward his temple, and began scratching with dull fingers. Feeling flakes of dry skin run down, he felt his eyes mellow low, mellow in a tangy darkness. Looking at the bottle he carried, all in his right hand, he peered deep into his reflection. But he saw the same thing, same person; same face.

“Think about it. For the past 10 or more years, you’ve been following orders from that chubby fedora man. He has ties to the government you know, way before they sliced ties with him.”

“What are you getting at?”

“I ain’t the only man brainwashed here.”

David felt his fingers squeeze the glass. Keeping it subtle, Gabriel meanwhile raised the bottle toward his lips. Letting the pungent liquid burst through his mouth, it flowed like a failed dam. Wrinkling all of his gums, down to his teeth, he swallowed the liquid like it was water. Halfway through his bottle, he pulled it away, and gently placed it against the wooden table.

“Talking to you is like talking to a judge who lies under oath. You judge others, but don’t bother to judge yourself.”

“Excuse me?”

“Someone had to say it. Iris here wouldn’t.”

He felt something clamp into his shoulder. Coming from his left, he knew those fingers from anywhere. Without bothering to look at her, he stared at the bottles in front of him, and noticed the reflection she had stored there.

“Careful cupcake. Just a bit more strength and you’d dislocate my shoulder.”

“Enough talk. I’m here to ask questions, and you’re just—”

“I don’t think you understand David.”

Gabriel finally turned to his right. Feeling his gaze, the cowboy didn’t avert his eyes or dare to look blankly. Making full eye contact, the glass he wielded only tightened further. It wasn’t subtle this time, once Gabriel glanced at the shot.

“I too have questions of my own. You two have been awfully bad these past couple of days. Well, your group mostly. Why are they picking a fight with the Zirardgres? Out of all the families?”

David didn’t answer. Instead, he stared at the bottles in front of him, but unable to configure his reflection. For a man who sees things in people, it was hard to see within himself. Lowering his eyes, they mellowed out in a silky tiredness.

“Be honest with me, do you actually think they are criminals?”

“I don’t.”

Shards of glass sprinkled out.

Every head and eye turned toward the broken shot, which was crushed by the cowboy. Waitresses rushing in to clean the mess, they were about to reach toward them. Until they were stopped, all by the rising of a purple-haired woman. Taking a step forward, she was a few inches taller than, but her eyes were harsher than some men.

Staring at them with a glare, she made the waitresses slowly walk back.

“It’s their job you know?”

“Shut up.”

“There it is, that hot temper of yours. Come to think of it, both of you have demons.”

Gabriel too pushed himself from his barstool. Patting his knees, and his legs, imaginary dust scraped away from the fabric. His hands laced on his sides, he pushed out a smirk rather than a smile. While David remained seated.

“You never told anyone about it, not even the Boss. Now what was that term again? When you bottle everything up? It’s kind of the opposite of what Iris has.”

He felt fingers dig into his wrist. Gabriel froze, and saw the way the cowboy held him. He didn’t look at him, but rather at the bottles of whiskey. Iris had her fingers low, already balled into a fist.

Gabriel kept his hands in his pockets still. Despite the tension rising, he shrugged with rising shoulders.

“There you have it folks.”

“You better have a good explanation for ruffling my feathers. Why are you making me do this?” Asked David.

“Because that’s who you are.”

Pieces of fabric began to rip from his grip. His nails digging even deeper, David’s face only scrounged the longer he stared. Iris too narrowed her eyes, but she noticed the tension of not just them, but upon the bar. Men from all over rose from their seats.

“You’re a man hunted by demons, by ghosts in the night. Remember the skirmishes? The bullets? The blood? The chaos of it all? It was so much for kids like ourselves yet here we are.”

Gabriel pulled his hands from his pockets. Having them drop to his waist, his fingers trickled the fabric of his pants. David finally began to turn, his eyes mesmerized in a slanted darkness. His other hand balled tightly, he kept it at bay.

“I guess you could say… we’re nothing more than shells.”

He stomped with only his right foot. In less than a second, the wood in between them blew like rippling wind. Letting go of Gabriel, he arched his whole head back, and felt the air brush his chin. Creating a small gap, David groaned, before pulling out his—

Smoke swallowed the two of them. Visibility dropping to near zero, the two coughed and gagged as their eyes watered.

“Gabriel!”

David pulled out his pistol, as he was given no choice but to fight.

________________________________________________________________________

(Reverence 6, 59 / 8:01PM)

The two of them scaled the exterior wall, their hands clinging deeply into the metal. Their very lives depending on it, they couldn’t glance at the moving landscape in back of them. As for the metal they squeezed, it was like stepping on ice. Small droplets of sweat formulating, the only thing keeping them warm was the hot wind.

“Come on, move it!”

“We can’t mess this up okay?! Slow and steady wins the race!”

“And the race has a goddamn time limit! Don’t go sightseeing!”

“Does it look like I’m sightseeing!?”

“You don’t look like you’re scaling!”

“Just shut up and follow!”

Continuing to scale the train like spiders, it wasn’t long until they noticed a train cart open to the outside. Memorizing the layout, it was only a train cart ahead, making Luna squint. As the hot wind worsened, small specks of dust tried to pinch her cheeks.

“We’re almost there!”

“You saw it from here!?”

“I have a good memory of things! I know it’s that train cart!”

After many minutes of crabwalking, Jenny noticed the railing from the first train cart. Extending out her left foot, she gripped the exterior wall as much as could with her nails. Pushing her body to the left, all with her right, it tilted her body to the railing.

Once she was on the railing, Jenny immediately stepped down to solid ground. Luna doing the same, she had almost the exact same stability as Jenny. Having the railing on the tips of her toes, her boots familiarized with the metallic floor. Breathing harshly through their lungs, they hunched their bodies forward as well.

“I love the ground…”

“No doubt.”

Yet they still have a mission to do. Straightening out her back, Jenny pounded her chest twice. Giving herself a nod, she stared forward, her eyes directed at the cart of coal in front.

“So the conductor’s panel is on the other side?”

“Yeah. It should be… wait.”

“What is it?”

Having her body straightened out, Luna took in the amount of wooden boxes littering the floor. Scattered in different positions, it had similar attire to a video game layout. All positioned for cover, it was as if each box served a purpose.

“I’ve never seen those boxes before. The last time I fought here, it was all metallic crates, not wood.” And most importantly, all of them had logos attached on their tops. Without taking a step forward, she lowered her head, along with her eyes. “What the hell are these logos?”

—“They’re kept secret.”—

It was like hearing the chime of a video game boss.

Goosebumps sprouting from their skin, their faces drew a hideous pale. Widened eyes, frozen breath, they stayed absolutely still. So much their legs begged for motion, their minds halted even the smallest of commands. Because once the two slowly turned back… stood a man wielding two chainsaws. Having ginger hair, and all black clothes, the wind in back of him rippled the bottom of his jacket.

“Why did you two arrive, you’ll both end up cultivating more trauma.” Jumping off from the roof, he landed with a simple thump. The two women didn’t take a step back, as fear groveled every muscle and bone from within. His eyes darkened. “So tell me you two. If you know that I was part of the enemy’s roster, why continue to fight?”

He rubbed the buttons of his chainsaws. Eyebags coating his upper cheeks, it was as if he had no sleep, no energy within his face. Taking a step forward, the two didn’t flinch.

“I’m giving you two one last chance.”

His chainsaws were brought to life. Already clicking the buttons, the chains sparked embers upon embers from the machines. Their breathing fastened, they had no help or guide with them.

“If you do plan on fighting me, you’re going to need this Guerra.”

From his jacket, the ends of it flapped open as he activated his curse. Digging into his jacket’s pockets, his invisible knuckles felt the fabric, before pulling out two cylinders. He heard the metal creak, before throwing them underhand. Landing with a click to their tips, it rolled toward her feet. They were batons.

After a long-awaited reunion, she stared at the batons that held her twin-bladed swords. Clattering her teeth, her gums felt dry the longer she stood still.

“I would rather not fight… but I’ll have no hesitation on what must be done.”

Either to take upon that growing trauma, or to seal it even deeper. Digging her fingers into her palms, her own nails scorned against her skin. Pushing her eyes into a grisly black, all of her body shivered from the now releasing cold. While Jenny shook.

[Please God… let me grant this one wish…]

[Give me flowers! Give me flowers! Pinky promise!]

Flashes of memories throttled their minds. For Luna, it was merely a month prior, but Jenny’s was beyond decades. In that single moment, their eyes welled up with tears… as the men they loved played in their minds.

________________________________________________________________________

(Reverence 6, 59 / 7:55PM)

Only one man remained.

His palms glued to his uzis, he ran as the cart below rocked. Running on the roof, he slowed in intervals, all to adjust with the stability. Extending his hands out, his uzis were aimed in random directions, but that wasn’t the issue.

—I’m almost there. Just got to not mess this up.

Right as he reached the center, he immediately stopped. Flying right toward him, was a spinning glint of metal with a circular shape. Having one hand carry two uzis, his other was barely free, and he caught it with his free one. In the palm of his hand, he squinted his eyes upon the chrome and silver. Rubbing the surface with his thumb, he—

—Every hair in his body rose.—

He felt his vision cave in, which made him look up. There was only a few seconds difference between catching the quarter, and analyzing it, but the effects were there.

“You can keep the quarter.”

Standing on the edge of the train cart, was a blonde man with darkened cheeks. Having his hands submerged in his pockets, his side bang continued to cover his left eye. The two of them felt the hot wind blow either their back, or their faces. The man didn’t grind or clench his teeth, yet he didn’t walk either.

“I know you want to capture me, but this is insane.”

“You’re a dead or alive bounty. Of course I’m going to gun for your ass.”

“But why?”

Briggs pulled both his hands from his pockets.

Luke remembered the fights, the events during the counterattack. He was the one who took down the Harvester, all with the help of everyone. But a week prior, it was all determined that none of it mattered.

“We fought together a month prior.”

“Until we all knew about your past.”

“I explained everything in that courthouse. I didn’t know this leader, or cartel guy. And I’m not—”

It was like hearing a collection of bells.

All from within his heart, it drew from Brigg’s walk. Having his fedora tuck his forehead, the setting sun only made the hat useless. Stars already forming above, Luke took a step back.

“I’m 18, b–barely turning 19. How can a teen be a leader of a cartel?”

“That’s what I want to know as well.”

Luke took another step back. As the agent slowly closed the distance, his cold eyes dug deep into Luke’s soul. Moving his left hand to his right, both of his hands were finally equipped with uzis. But Briggs stopped. The wind softening its harsh gusts, the two of them stood still.

“But tell me Fenix. Before I beat the shit out of you, why do you continue to run?”

Luke felt his throat jitter, leaving him to clear it with a simple gulp. He didn’t move his fingers, nor did he need to tighten his grip. Staring at the cold-eyed agent, he finally locked eyes with him.

“Cause it’s better to be free.”

No reaction drew from Briggs. Soulless, all-staring, he just took in the words like it was oxygen. Luke straightened his back, and loosened the footing with the roof. Narrowing his eyes… they glowed. Yes. Glowed. As if a fire had scorned his heart, it was a blaze that not even Briggs could put it.

“As leader of the Dark Angels, we took an oath. Our mission is simple. Help those if needed, to protect and serve if necessary, and above all…”

He slid his right foot back.

Squeezing the metallic roof of the cart, his knees buckled against his own weight. Like a spring, a cataclysm of energy was pushed onto his shins. A single trigger, a single push, would be enough to launch him forward.

“To eliminate our foes by any means.”

“Easier said than done.”

Brigg’s knuckles finally squeezed. Crackling all five of his fingers, the stress it released popped in his ears. Hearing it even through the howling wind, Briggs finally slid his foot back.

“Cause I won’t need any extra reasons for me to kill you.”