Land of the Setting Sun
5/27/2007 - How... how did this happen?
I approached him cautiously, careful to stay out of range of his feeble grasps. He let out a small whine, which pierced the air and caused tears to well up in my eyes. Had the scavengers done this to him? It seemed ridiculous and yet here he was, dying in front of me as a grotesque beast. His green eyes shone with pain, and he reached out with a gnarled hand, towards me.
"Bo, talk to me, are you there?" His face contorted in pain, I did not know if it was my words or the extreme pain radiating through his body. He let out a deep gasp, and shuddered violently, like he was freezing cold. "Please, look at me. Snap out of this!"
I took a leap of faith, and grabbed his shoulder, shocked by how easily malleable and weak his muscles had become in such a short time. He winced, but didn't try to retaliate, instead staring at me with wild, animalistic eyes. There was a certain element of desperation to his look that broke my heart. I was no medic, I'd have no idea how to fix him even if he looked normal.
"It's James, Bo. What happened to you?" A little glint of recognition sparked in his eyes, distinct from the yellowish apathy and pain he had before. He clawed at me again, grabbing my arm firmly this time, while making small "o"s with his mouth. It was like seeing the fog recede over the costal spires of California, the haze had been wiped from his memory, and his mind was being flooded with knowledge. His hand gripped tighter, and I winced, shifting uncomfortably to try and alleviate his grasp.
"Can't... think..." he muttered softly. His words settled softly on the rubble, and as they did, his grip loosened and body relaxed. I freed my arm and laid him propped up on my knee, taking a look at the wounds. Aubrey had really done a number on him; the knife still stuck out of his neck like a lever, hardly stemming the blood flow. It was clear as I held him that he had mere minutes left to live, if that. "Please..." he coughed, "American, kill me." His eyes glistened and slowly filled with blood; it was more than just a knife in the neck and shots to the stomach that'd caused this. Something was fundamentally wrong with how he was... made.
I couldn't kill him, I didn't have anything to kill him with. Even if I did, my hands were trembling just looking at him. All I could do was tear off my shirt and attempt to stanch the blood flowing out of his neck. I lost him slowly, over the course of several minutes, until his eyes finally stopped twitching, until his body finally stopped squirming. He laid there, broken, and I fought the urge to yell at the top of my lungs.
Aubrey laid suspended by the rebar not a few steps away, his head hung in a dark grimace, not breathing. The back of his skull had been worn thin, nearly concave and the white-pink of brain matter peeked out among the bone. He was very dead. There was no sign of Qara and Dr. Blythe, and I assumed they'd made the wise decision and left without me. As the sound of dust-scattering footsteps grew louder among the rubble, I braced myself to buy them some time. None of them would meet the same fate as Bo, I swore.
By the time the scavengers reached the area, I was already perched behind the corner of one of the nearby destroyed buildings, holding a rather sharp rock. I tossed it back and forth between my worn hands. Yes, this would make a good revenge weapon. Upon discovering Bo's body, some of them spoke.
"Holy shit, they killed it."
"They had this one, the tall blonde one. He was definitely dangerous." The accents were... American and Russian? I peeked around the corner, and saw a group of seven of them crowded around Bo's corpse. They were dressed up in those long trench coats, sporting the same blades as all the others, but they seemed taller. One of them had two small gold bars on the shoulders of his trenchcoat, like some sort of rank.
"Looks like he took it out mutually, it died from its wounds. The others must've gone somewhere else."
"No, no. There are tracks leading further east, the rest of them went for the boat." That man's accent was asian, like the rest of the scavengers. I didn't know what the fuck was going on, but one thing was clear, these men were going to hunt down the rest of my crew. I waited patiently for them to pass by my corner, brandishing my rock, digging my fingers into it as if to crush it with grip strength alone. As soon as they’d passed me I was on them, striking the first one through his cloak with the sharp side of the rock, crumpling him almost instantly. The other six yelled and drew their weapons, and I shot toward the next one, throwing the rock at the hand he was using to draw his blade.
By some miracle, it was a perfect throw, and his hand snapped inward, causing him to drop to his knees while cradling it. The next guy was right next to him, but before I could bypass his blade, an arm curled around my neck, and yanked me backwards. The cold barrel of a gun was pressed up against my temple, and a panic set in, as I grasped for it. Their arm was freakishly strong, however, and I was simultaneously being choked out.
“Well, this is convenient. You’re confident you only saw two chased by the candidate?” I spotted one of the nameless henchmen nod through my watery eyes.
“Yes, archbishop.”
“Glory to God. I knew He’d bring you back to me. Not time for everyone to learn of our little secret yet, is it?” The gun barrel pushed up even tighter against my head, painfully digging into the soft spot in my skull. “Well, I’d typically keep an able body like this around, but he killed Paul, so I think I’m good with wasting him.”
My eyes shut in relief, at least Qara and Dr. Blythe would escape successfully. The trigger clicked and—
I approached him cautiously, careful to stay out of range of his feeble grasps. He let out a small whine, which pierced the air and caused tears to well up in my eyes. Had the scavengers done this to him? It seemed ridiculous and yet here he was, dying in front of me as a grotesque beast. His green eyes shone with pain, and he reached out with a gnarled hand, towards me.
"Bo, talk to me, are you there?" His face contorted in pain, I did not know if it was my words or the extreme pain radiating through his body. He let out a deep gasp, and shuddered violently, like he was freezing cold. "Please, look at me. Snap out of this!"
I took a leap of faith, and grabbed his shoulder, shocked by how easily malleable and weak his muscles had become in such a short time. He winced, but didn't try to retaliate, instead staring at me with wild, animalistic eyes. There was a certain element of desperation to his look that broke my heart. I was no medic, I'd have no idea how to fix him even if he looked normal.
"It's James, Bo. What happened to you?" A little glint of recognition sparked in his eyes, distinct from the yellowish apathy and pain he had before. He clawed at me again, grabbing my arm firmly this time, while making small "o"s with his mouth. It was like seeing the fog recede over the costal spires of California, the haze had been wiped from his memory, and his mind was being flooded with knowledge. His hand gripped tighter, and I winced, shifting uncomfortably to try and alleviate his grasp.
"Can't... think..." he muttered softly. His words settled softly on the rubble, and as they did, his grip loosened and body relaxed. I freed my arm and laid him propped up on my knee, taking a look at the wounds. Aubrey had really done a number on him; the knife still stuck out of his neck like a lever, hardly stemming the blood flow. It was clear as I held him that he had mere minutes left to live, if that. "Please..." he coughed, "American, kill me." His eyes glistened and slowly filled with blood; it was more than just a knife in the neck and shots to the stomach that'd caused this. Something was fundamentally wrong with how he was... made.
I couldn't kill him, I didn't have anything to kill him with. Even if I did, my hands were trembling just looking at him. All I could do was tear off my shirt and attempt to stanch the blood flowing out of his neck. I lost him slowly, over the course of several minutes, until his eyes finally stopped twitching, until his body finally stopped squirming. He laid there, broken, and I fought the urge to yell at the top of my lungs.
Aubrey laid suspended by the rebar not a few steps away, his head hung in a dark grimace, not breathing. The back of his skull had been worn thin, nearly concave and the white-pink of brain matter peeked out among the bone. He was very dead. There was no sign of Qara and Dr. Blythe, and I assumed they'd made the wise decision and left without me. As the sound of dust-scattering footsteps grew louder among the rubble, I braced myself to buy them some time. None of them would meet the same fate as Bo, I swore.
By the time the scavengers reached the area, I was already perched behind the corner of one of the nearby destroyed buildings, holding a rather sharp rock. I tossed it back and forth between my worn hands. Yes, this would make a good revenge weapon. Upon discovering Bo's body, some of them spoke.
"Holy shit, they killed it."
"They had this one, the tall blonde one. He was definitely dangerous." The accents were... American and Russian? I peeked around the corner, and saw a group of seven of them crowded around Bo's corpse. They were dressed up in those long trench coats, sporting the same blades as all the others, but they seemed taller. One of them had two small gold bars on the shoulders of his trenchcoat, like some sort of rank.
"Looks like he took it out mutually, it died from its wounds. The others must've gone somewhere else."
"No, no. There are tracks leading further east, the rest of them went for the boat." That man's accent was asian, like the rest of the scavengers. I didn't know what the fuck was going on, but one thing was clear, these men were going to hunt down the rest of my crew. I waited patiently for them to pass by my corner, brandishing my rock, digging my fingers into it as if to crush it with grip strength alone. As soon as they’d passed me I was on them, striking the first one through his cloak with the sharp side of the rock, crumpling him almost instantly. The other six yelled and drew their weapons, and I shot toward the next one, throwing the rock at the hand he was using to draw his blade.
By some miracle, it was a perfect throw, and his hand snapped inward, causing him to drop to his knees while cradling it. The next guy was right next to him, but before I could bypass his blade, an arm curled around my neck, and yanked me backwards. The cold barrel of a gun was pressed up against my temple, and a panic set in, as I grasped for it. Their arm was freakishly strong, however, and I was simultaneously being choked out.
“Well, this is convenient. You’re confident you only saw two chased by the candidate?” I spotted one of the nameless henchmen nod through my watery eyes.
“Yes, archbishop.”
“Glory to God. I knew He’d bring you back to me. Not time for everyone to learn of our little secret yet, is it?” The gun barrel pushed up even tighter against my head, painfully digging into the soft spot in my skull. “Well, I’d typically keep an able body like this around, but he killed Paul, so I think I’m good with wasting him.”
My eyes shut in relief, at least Qara and Dr. Blythe would escape successfully. The trigger clicked and—
