2.8
A futile struggle
“Please look after her”
Hiro beckoned, leaving Willow to Malcolm’ care as he rushed toward his fallen ally. When he arrived, the woman was already on her feet. The polearm still there going through her body. She pulled it out with no hesitation.
Suiren would keep on going.
With one leg completely broken, the woman continued forward with the help of her bloodied naginata. Even some shattered ribs and a punctured stomach weren’t going to stop her.
“Stop it, Suiren. You can stop now!” [Stop it, Suiren. You can stop now!]
Hiro called out but she ignored him. Was it out of her own will or maybe her ears were already busted by the explosion. There was no way to tell but Hiro wasn’t going to let that stopped him.
Standing in front of Suiren, the young man tried his best to convey what he wanted to say. Waving, signalling, shouting, none seemed to work. She just kept on going like a mindless zombie.
Desperate, the young man tackled her to the ground. He tried to hold back the bloodthirsty woman.
“You are going to die!” [You are going to die]
Suiren grabbed his arms, trying to push Hiro away. Even in this state, she was still stronger than him. The young man could only beg.
“Please don’t go” [Please don’t go]
Both of them didn’t want her to die, in this instant, Hiro and his disembodied voice was one and the same. In their mind was that one memory of a small boy, crying in a corner, neglected and unloved.
“Don’t leave me” [Don’t leave me]
Twenty-two years he had spent living. During all those years, no one had ever shown him such care, such tenderness. Even if it just a falsehood, Hiro was not going to let it go.
“Don’t leave me” [Don’t leave me]
“Don’t leave me” [Don’t leave me]
Hiro dug into her chest and held her tight. His eyes blurred with tears, but he wouldn’t let go of this warmth. He kept on muttering to himself.
“Don’t leave me” [Don’t leave me]
“Don’t leave me” [Don’t leave me]
“Don’t leave me like all of them, like mom, like dad, like her!” […!]
Suddenly, he could feel something warm. Suiren was patting him gently, she had now stop struggling. The woman could hear all along, one of her ear wasn’t out of commission just yet. And so she had heard his voice. It reminded her of someone whom she couldn’t remember, a child of her own?
It was not Hiro of course but he didn’t know nor care.
For once, someone had heard his cry, him calling out. Hiro putted his hand to the floor to prop himself up but fell immediately. Overjoyed, he had used his left arm which was nearly hacked in half earlier.
He fell onto her, trying to not to scream out in pain to no avail. Before a sound could leave his mouth, however, Hiro found himself smothered by Suiren’s bosom as she held him tight. In this very moment, nothing mattered anymore, the young man could feel no pain.
And so they lied there, two bloodied mess clinging to one another.
“What in world are they doing”
Commented Malcolm looking at the two. He could have bolted and got quite far. But no, he had decided to stay, and this was what he get, real life soap drama.
Technically the youth did have another chance to highway out of here. Hiro had left him to look after Willow who was trying to get back up to join the fight. She would be horribly trashed in her condition, but the girl would make a good decoy.
But no, looking at that broken mess had somehow awaken the gentleman within him. Something Malcolm didn’t even know he has.
And so he put his coat onto her and faced the roid up Roman with his puny knife.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Malcolm was always light on his feet, that was what separate him from most of the thugs of London in a fight. Dodge this punch, dodge that hook, a stab here and a stab there. With his speed and instinct, taking out three or even five dunces at a time was no problem.
And with that, he faced the captain. Couldn’t get a single hit in but didn’t get a punch to the face either. It felt like a dance as they weaved through each other blow, quite romantic really.
That was until he got body-slammed into a wall. It was a very awkward angle, so Malcolm didn’t expect it but with the captain enhanced strength, that was enough. At least he lasted quite long, even longer than Suiren. The gentleman in him said not to compare himself with a lady like her but Malcom didn’t care, that was quite an achievement.
“Oh well, serve me right”
The young man said as he looked at himself as beaten up as the other. Well, maybe not Willow, she kind of did that to herself mostly.
“Are you two done over there!”
Malcolm called out, his ribs were busted but somehow, he could still yell. Such a miracle! It would be even better if he could come out of this not a cripple, or dead even! But was it a fate for him, would Malcolm Burgess let himself went down like this.
“Oi Hiro! You can stop snuggling onto that lass now”
The call awakened the young man from his moment of bliss to face with the reality right in front of him. And that reality was a huge supernatural Roman warrior who was out for his blood, the young and mundane young man blood.
He stood up once again, using his right arm this time to face his enemy, But what could he do, Hiro didn’t know but he wasn’t going out without a struggle no matter how pathetic it may be. He picked up the naginata clumsily and tried to familiarise himself with it. At least his foe seemed to have the decency to wait just to see what this broken mess would come up with.
Hiro: {This isn’t good}
The weapon was too long and unwieldy especially since he could only use his right arm. Nevertheless, Hiro charged at the captain anyway with a semblance of a plan in his mind, one that Suiren had provided him.
But that required him to actually touch the Roman and how to do that is a mystery indeed.
Well, one that was solved in quite a surprising turn. With monstrous effort, Malcolm got himself moving again. With his chest a broken mess, every breath he took was like a knife twisting his lungs. But even under all that pain, he still remained stealthy.
The youth sneaked up to the Roman and drove his knife into the man’s neck. Well, that was the plan. The Legionnaire tilted his head to the side, dodging the attack as he grabbed Malcolm arms and threw him over his shoulder. As he flied past Hiro, the youth can’t help but be impressed.
‘What a monster’ That’s all he could muster, Malcolm was completely spent. Everything rested on Hiro now, that means ‘We are all doom I guess’
The young man was thankful for the distraction as he swung the weapon at the Legionnaire. A sloppy attack indeed but that was not the focus here. Hiro let go of the shaft and extended his arm to the Roman’s face.
The Legionnaire could clearly see it coming of course, and yet he let it flew anyway, wanting to see what can the young man do. Which was quite a lot.
The moment Hiro’s right hand touched the white mask, a sharp pain run all the way back up to his brain. The Legionnaire could also feel it intensifying as memories flooded to his mind. All his past glory flashed in front of the man mind. The pain kept on getting worse but the captain endured it all. He wanted to see it.
Everything ended at an image, however, of the Coliseum.
The Legionnaire was part of the audience as he watched a gladiator fought on. The lions and other wild beats were released, but the warrior bested them silently. Then came the other fighters, all eager to fight the man. The gladiator danced between the rains of blows, dealing out lethal counterattacks one after another. But there was no end to the slaughter as more and more fighters were sent to the slaughter.
‘What is this, why is this even fair…’
A lucky slash found its mark as the gladiator suffered his first injury. More wass soon to come as the fighters moved in like sharks. As the crowd cheered on the Legionnaire could feel his heart tighten. He could feel someone gripping his small hand, a woman who shared his pain, his mother.
No, he couldn’t bear to watch this again! Father…
With an outburst, the Legionnaire rejected Hiro’s influence. Electric sparks burst out of the white mask as the young man was sent flying. The captain fell to his knees, his mask cracked.
He stood up to find ashes drifting away. It was his halo, disintegrating into nothingness.
“He did it… The Herald did it again…”
Willow couldn’t believe her eyes. Did her Herald manage to convert another Fallen? She didn’t even know. She looked on as the Legionnaire faced up to the sky in contemplation. After a moment, he walked toward Hiro and grabbed him by the neck, choking the young man.
“No!”
The girl gritted her teeth, trying to stand up again but she couldn’t. Why! Even after being reduced to such a mess, the Herald could still go on. Even Malcolm could muster such a display of sheer willpower.
“Darn it!”
She tried to get up again only to find a black smoke coming up behind her. Before Willow could react, the thing came together to form a man who immediately sat her down again.
“You shouldn’t push yourself like that, little princess”
Victor voiced his concern with such a genuine tone. But just looking at the heretic made her blood boils.
“Let’s me go! The Herald, Hiro, he needs my help”
“Your help? Hardly”
The old man looked up, diverting her attention to someone walking up to the Roman. It was the man in armour that she had heard of. But what difference could he even make.
“He could try” Said Victor who could read her like an open book “And if he fails then I will make an excellent meat shield for you, princess”
The old man grabbed her sword and threw it to the man in armour.
“Hey Conrad, I believe you are more familiar with this than that measly axe of your”
The man grabbed the weapon and after a while, muttered a single word “Thanks”
“I cheer for you, buddy! Go wipe the floor with that guy already!”
The Legionnaire dropped Hiro back to the floor and turned around to face his new opponent. It was time to get serious. His sword and shield flew to the air into the captain’s hands, how he didn’t care. He had been waiting for this.
Conrad placed his right hand, still holding onto the sword, on his left shoulder for a few moments. He then readied his weapon.