The fight started with the whip of a branch. He saw it coming, before it came for him, and like a snake lunging for him, he pushed the dead body and rolled away. The next second, the body had another bullet mark, and the explosion of sound which came a little later.
He wobbled to his feet, and it felt like he’d puke from the motion, but he ducked once again as the next branch lunged for him. He didn’t know how he could still stand, or even worse, how he could still see the view of the garden, but he couldn’t see much of anything else, so maybe that helped.
He picked the chair which had bound him just a moment ago, and his hands transmuted into it the toughness enough to rival the bullet marks. The next second, he saw another branch lunge for his shoulder and he hurriedly pulled the chair to his face and deflected it. The chair withstood the attack.
Okay, okay, the branches come a moment earlier than the bullets. I can do this. I can do this.
He ran with the chair in hand, and tried to cover the distance between them, but his plans were thrashed when the shooters tried to keep their range as much as possible. He was bombarded constantly and the chair wasn’t big enough to cover him fully. He was sure that sooner or later, that one of the bullets would hit him somewhere lethal and he’d be out of commission.
Why isn’t the last one shooting though?
The leader after the first short hadn’t fired another, and he was glad for it, but he also feared what might he do.
At least they don’t want to kill me yet. They are aiming for the unimportant parts.
Then the shooting stopped, and the fight came to a stop for a second. He could see the gunners changing their ammo, but the last one had his gun aimed directly at him and he didn’t wanna close in haphazardly.
“Is that all, little pup?” He grinned as the others aimed at him again.
Klein’s hands glowed again, and he stood straight and smiled as the next hail of bullets came his way.
The bullets hit his chair, and they punched in. Like an extremely elastic latex, the chair gave into its momentum, and then shot back the bullets. The speed was compromised, but the look of surprise on their faces was all Klein wanted. And when one of the bullets impacted against the woman's shoulder, it brought a bigger smile to his face.
Then the other man came to his rationale and shot at him angrily. Klein ducked and touched his shoes. The next second he jumped through the air. His balance was very off when he fell, and he grimaced at the danger of this maneuver, but Klein was getting desperate. He landed with a thud and erected his chair shield before the shots could hit him.
He hadn’t known that creating so many changes in such a short time would eat away at his mana pool so quickly. He hadn’t had to fight like this ever.
At least one of them isn’t firing right now.
He hadn’t been able to get another of them with his bounce technique. The main problem being the angle of the bullets rather than his chair. Klein still held the metal rod in his hand, and he had an idea of how to use it, but it was too small. He jumped again, his steps had an extra bounce now, and he sped up.
In his excitement he jumped a little too high, and immediately regretted it. When the next branch came for him, he found it impossible to manoeuvre himself, and paid the price with a bullet in the side of his stomach. He fell on the ground with a thud, his bones rattled, and a pained grunt left him. He was bleeding, and he was certain he had broken one or two bones.
For a second he thought he was already dead, but then the shots vanished. He looked up, a guttural sound like an animal roared out of the woman and the leader stopped her from firing. He could see the rage in her eyes, the way she scratched at the wound on her shoulders like a ghoul.
And in her rage, she picked her weapon against the leader itself, the gun cocking under her thumb, and before she could pull the trigger, a branch drilled through her forehead.
The leader shot her dead, and she crumpled to the body like a cut marionette. She lay there in her own pooling blood, and the leader clicked his tongue.
“Tsk. He’s for the boss. Stupid bitch can’t even control herself,”
Before Klein could understand what happened another branch came for him, and this time he hadn’t had enough energy to pull the chair. A sharp pain erupted from his hands, and the next second his left hand which clutched the metal rod was obliterated. Fingers and the rod went flying, and he tasted his own blood.
Klein cried the next second. The pain dulled the world around him, and the colours returned and the shapes changed like an oil painting. He could feel tears in his eyes, and a dark corner of his mind which told him to give up. To lay low and die. To give up.
He squashed that part of him, and he squashed every bit of pain within him. He looked ahead and saw that the leader walked towards him. He didn’t have his gun, maybe he tossed it somewhere or he felt like he didn’t need it anymore to deal with him.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
He grasped for his chair with one hand but he found it flung somewhere far away from him.
Taking deep breaths he tried to calm down. It was hard when his trait kept warning him how the trees of the guy were coming for him, wrapping themselves around him. He knew it was just in his mind, but he still found the sensation sickening. He looked away to hide the defiance in his eyes.
“That was very good, little puppy! Very good indeed! I did not know you could dance like that at all. Now, you must be quite tired, aren’t you?” Tommy, the leader, walked towards him in his slow steps and Klein looked at him with pleading eyes.
“Please, please let me go,” He cried and the tears came easily. “Please let me go!”
He looked up and the man was a foot away from his face. He crouched to his level, his eyes swam with laughter and his face brightened. He poked his torn hand with his fingers, fiddled with the exposed bones and nerves. Klein cringed with every movement, the shock enough to send him unconscious, but the adrenaline kept him awake.
“Please… please…” He begged, and the man’s smile only grew brighter. He continued to play with his wound, poking finger at the gun wound on his stomach. Klein cried until the tears ran dry and the man’s smile only grew larger and larger.
He was having fun. It was the most fun he had in so long. So so so fucking long. Oh how he missed the days when someone could put up a challenge against him. And how good it felt to squash all of that courage, all of that resolve, until all that was left was this weakness. Until they bled and begged for their life. He wished the boss wasn’t coming. He wished he could have another hour with the kid. Hours and hours, until he died.
So lost in his thoughts he was, that he never noticed when the ground beneath him gave way. When the ground turned soft like a carpet and he fell down. He looked at the kid, whom he thought had lost all his resolve and looked at him with that stupid rage. Why would he look like that? Why won’t he go down? Fucking give up!
And then something pierced his arm. A syringe, he saw the kid hold. Panic nestled in his mind, but before it could take effect, his world was washed in shifting colours and shapes and he lost consciousness.
#
Klein flimsily sat on the softened ground, and looked at the twitching figure of the leader. It was still not dead, he knew it. But he didn’t have the time for it. There was one more guy left.
His mana pool was almost empty, perhaps left for just one last spell. He wobbled over to the few pieces of chain in the crater, and with a last will of effort, sharpened it with the last dregs of his mana. A sickening emptiness took hold of him. Like he wasn’t himself anymore.
His body burned with fever, blood flowed freshly out of his wounds, and he felt so close to death but he forced himself for one last time. He forced himself to look at the garden of information of the last member as it neared the crater he had created. It was close, and it was afraid. He waited for it to come closer.
The garden hesitated at the edge, the man behind it too. Klein waited. He held the sharpened rod in his hands, and he waited. He sharpened his focus to the very pin-point, and he waited.
And just as the man peered into the crater, Klein’s hands blurred in motion and he hurled the rod. It was a very lucky shot, because Klein didn’t know what he would have done after this. Before the man could even pull his own revolver, before he could even react, the rod passed right through his forehead, and with a thud, another life was claimed.
Klein watched the garden wither in front of him, and he collapsed on the soft ground.
His body shook with every breath, like even a stray wind could knock him out cold. Blood still flowed out of his hand and his stomach, and the very act of sitting sent jolts of pain through his very being.
But his lips curled in a smile. He had won. He had killed all of them. It was the first proof of his ability. He had done it. His smile bloomed into a full blown laughter and tears ran through his eyes as he laughed.
It hurts so fucking much.
He felt cold. Like the grips of death just beside him. It was cold.
He stood up shakily, and climbed out of the crater he had created. It was hard, extremely hard since he only had one usable hand, but he did it anyway. Maybe it was anger, maybe it was pure grit, but he hardened some steps with his regenerating mana and climbed out.
The first thing he did was find the gun of the third guy–Jared was his name?–and shoot the unconscious leader. He shot him twice just to be sure. Then he threw the gun as far as he could, and tried to walk outside.
The gate fortunately, was only loosely locked, and he was able to open it very easily. Walking outside, he realised it was already night. The sky shone under the bright light of the twinkling stars, and the air reeked of factory smog.
He was in Charting Borough. Deep, in the Borough, and the trek back to the academy was a long one.
For a while Klein felt a deep deep sadness take over him. His will wavered, and he imagined what it would be like to walk like this. To walk bleeding and holding onto your life with the last dregs of your willpower. To walk alone and to die alone.
At least I’ll die where I was born.
There was a strange peace to the idea, and Klein could feel his resistance weakening. He would die. His muscles spasmed, and he fell on the floor.
I’m gonna die, he thought. Strangely he couldn’t muster tears. Strangely he didn’t feel so bad about it. Isn’t this the peace he always wanted? To find peace with his own strength? He killed the people after him and had found his peace.
Maybe I can rest easy now?
A face suddenly popped up before him. It was disheveled, dirty, and his clothes though looked good were dirty. He had brown hair and a beard. He smiled at him.
“Are you gonna give up?”
Was he gonna give up? Was it the end road for him? Did he have all he wanted?
Give up?
Klein looked at the man and laughed. The man laughed with him. And when all of his energy left him from the laugh, he looked back at the man. His vision darkened around its edges, and all he heard was one final line.
“Rest well for now, He’ll be happy,”
#