This was bad.
This was really really bad.
Pilotte’s collar broken, he was completely free to do whatever he wanted. The audience situated outside quickly scattered, not wanting to be anywhere near the area. In their minds, anyone was a target for the serial killer. A few even cursed Beryl for being so slow on the draw, this was her fault they said. Brook ran for it as well, running for the maze of boxes and shipping containers. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t even know she was the one person on Pilotte’s mind right now.
“Eli!” Pocketknife shouted. “Gonna circle around! Get in front of him!” He motioned to the broken down door that Pilotte had just busted through. “You follow him!”
“That’s what I planned on!” Eli nodded. No time to discuss things any further, innocent people were in danger. The two went in their respective directions. With Pocketknife taking the long way around, wherever that might be, and Eli taking the short way. Pocketknife was sure he knew where he was going. His sense of direction wasn’t all that bad.
Beryl, being the one judging the fight and, again, sort of responsible for this breakout due to her slow reaction time, was chasing Pilotte down as well, running alongside Eli. “Leave this to me, kid.” She said, looking to him. “I’m a Redliner, we’re meant to take care of things when they go awry. Not the first time I’ve had to-”
“Keep out of it!” Eli snapped at her. “This is my fight!”
She stared at him in disgust. Did he seriously just talk back to her? Then again, he was right, this was his fight. There was no bell or a proper call off; by technicality, the fight was still going. “Heh, well then, it’s your funeral. Your friend’s funeral even. I’ll see how this goes, but if a civilian dies, I have no choice but to interfere.” No more time to discuss, they were approaching the outside, with the next step being to search for Pilotte.
These of course weren’t the only reactions to Pilotte breaking out, of course. Not far from all the commotion, was the limousine that the quartet of Ethan, Audwin, Rosemary, and Iago were lounging in. Ethan was quick to run to the exit of the limo, already going to run out, swearing up a storm in frustration.
“What the hell are you doing, boy?” Audwin said, “What’s with the panic? Where’s that bravado from earlier?”
“My friend is in danger! Of course I’m going to go help her!” Ethan shouted back at the owl, continuing to draw his ire.
“What are you going to do, exactly? Pilotte could kill you with a single blow. Just as he would that hyena slut.” Audwin shook his head, cynical to the very end. “What will happen is that you’re going to watch him kill her and that is that.”
That was it. Audwin could say anything he wanted to him, say any form of insult or ridicule. He’d even take physical violence. But to insult his friend, the owl had committed the most grevious of sins. Ethan stared at the old owl. Time seemed to slow down at that moment, as the two of them stared with mutual hatred for one another. Even Iago and Rosemary could feel it, but of them finding it was a similar feeling to what happens when two rival fighters stood before each other in the arena. But, Ethan broke the silence and opened the door outside. “Well, even if that happens, at least I can say I did something instead of sitting on my ass in here.” So, he shut the door, running towards the warehouse, as fast as he could run, as fast as his body allowed him.
Audwin sat in silence, clenching his cane in anger. The nerve on youth’s these days.
Rosemary stood and went for the door, setting her keyboard aside.
“Where might you be off to?” Audwin said.
“I need to see where this goes. A lot of people are in danger, sir.” She said plainly.
“Stay here,” he growled, “Don’t you dare set a foot outside this limo. We’re going to see where this goes, lives being in danger…”
Back at the shipping district, Brook had gotten separated from everyone. She was already exhausted from running; damn, was she really this out of shape? Better question: Did she get away? She saw the way Pilotte was looking at her earlier. She didn’t want to be anywhere near that guy. “Fuck…” She groaned, burying her face in her hands, hands on her snout. “I shouldn’t have come here… I shouldn’t have gotten into this… I want to go home…”
But, her thought process was broken, as a dark shadow loomed over her, coupled with a foul smell. Her heart sank, as she realized it. How the hell did he find her so fast? He had completely ignored everyone else, just to get to her.
“Such a shame,” Pilotte said, grinning, “Someone like you being killed by someone like me.” He swiftly grabbed her by the throat, having her in a vice grip. Her could easily crush her windpipe right here. He could dig his thumb into her throat and bleed her out, he could crush her repeatedly against the ground. So many ways to do it, Pilotte was busy thinking of which to go with! He couldn’t contain himself. No one could. He was finally ready to kill again!
Brook grasped at Pilotte’s arm, holding herself up so she could breath properly. Tears in her eyes. This couldn’t be happening, where was everyone?! “H-help!” She gagged, barely able to make out the words. “Someone!” Defiantly, she kicked at Pilotte’s chest, hoping it would be enough to loosen his grip; it wasn’t. This was it, she thought to herself, her own grip on Pilotte’s hand loosening. The end.
“Pilotte!” A voice screamed, snapping Brook’s eyes open. Rushing at the lizard, as fast as he could, was Eli. His eyes red with rage, he bounded off of a nearby crate, then struck Pilotte in the back of his now unprotected neck. The powerful leaping kick would’ve been enough to shatter the average person’s neck, the attack was felt in the back of his head, in his brain, his neck, and all the way down his spine, an absolute shock to his nervous system; for someone who had been hung, electrocuted, and injected with poisons, it took a kick to truly debilitate him. It was just enough to cause him to loosen his grip and give him an especially painful migraine.
Brook fell to the ground at Pilotte’s feet, but didn’t stay there for long, she got up quickly, and ran behind Eli, ready for this day to be done with. “Fuck fuck fuck!” She screamed, “Thank you!” She yelled at Eli, now forever in his debt.
“You okay?” Eli shouted, still not taking his eyes off of Pilotte.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just… End this quick please.” She said, moving a good distance away. She looked up at the sky, noticing the video drones were now over head. More and more people began to come out of the wood work. One by one, people were coming back to witness the end of the fight, even if it meant risking their safety. The current area was wide open, smaller than the previous arena, but it would serve just fine as a place to fight.
“Brook, get over here!” Beryl shouted from the crowd.
You didn’t have to tell her twice. Brook ran beside the Redliner, feeling just slightly more protected.
Eli faced down Pilotte, who had turned to look at him, rubbing the back of his neck, his senses returning. He was heaving in pain, he never felt this this exhausted before, outside of his attempted executions that is; just what was this boy made of, to push him this far? Tearing off the remnants of the upper half of his jumpsuit, he tossed it aside. “You’re annoying.” He growled at Eli. “Don’t get in the way of my freedom!”
“Freedom to do what? Kill?” Eli shouted, “Fuck off! I want to be free just as much as you. But I will never do it at the expense and misery of others! You’re full of it!”
Pilotte said nothing. He was no longer in the mood to talk. His tail thumped against the ground in rage, he would kill this boy then go back to the girl. That’s what he would do! “Rip and tear, until it is done…” He growled.
But, he neglected to remember; Eli wasn’t alone. A purple clad coati was quickly approaching. In his hand he held a large pipe wrench. “Sorry I took long!” Pocketknife shouted. “Grabbed some stuff on way here!” Usually when someone takes a longer path to a target, it’s to take a stealthy approach or to ambush their target. Looks like such a strategy didn’t even cross Pocketknife’s mind.
“Are you serious?” Pilotte groaned, watching the ridiculous coati come towards him. Maybe he’d kill him first. He lunged forward, swinging a strong right hook at his heavily armed target, only for said target to tank the attack, completely bracing himself against it.
Pocketknife’s teeth grinded against each other, as he clenched his jaw hard. His leg, that he used to brace himself against the ground to keep himself from going flying, felt like it was broken. Yeah, he wasn’t going to be walking on that for a while. But, now face to face with Pilotte, he had the lizard right where he wanted him. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the smallest but deadliest weapon he managed to grab: a nine inch ice pick. Without a word, he jabbed the tool into Pilotte’s left eye, hoping it’d go all the way to the brain.
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The crowd cheered in shock and surprise at the level of violence and ingenuity, Brook even let out a startled gasp.
Pilotte, who was certainly less impressed by being the one on the receiving end of the attack, howled in pain, grabbing Pocketknife’s arm, squeezing as hard as he could. The two wrestled with each other, thrashing against each other’s grip.
But, Pocketknife, with searing pain in his right arm, leg, and all over his body, knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. But he wasn’t going to leave this fight without making a permanent impact. “The ones who will win this fight, Pilotte, is us!” He stuck up the middle finger on his left hand, then jabbed it into Pilotte’s right eye. Giving him the ultimate FUCK YOU.
Pilotte, now completely blinded, screamed in pain and rage. Lifting Pocketknife into the air, he swiftly threw him against the ground like an empty soda can, Pocketknife tumbled away, towards Eli. Yeah, that about did it; his body was pushed beyond its limits, limits that far exceeded the average man. Consciousness fading, Pocketknife lied on the ground, looking up at the sky. “Sorry, Eli… It’s up to you. We’ve come too far to fail now. Kick his ass!”
Nodding, Eli reached down, picking up the pipe wrench Pocketknife had dropped. “Good job, dude.” he smiled, “Made it much easier…” Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself, for the finale. “Come on, one more round, Pilotte.”
From the sidelines, Ethan watched, trembling with anxiety, the only thing he was grateful for right now was that Brook was okay. He could now only watch teary eyed that this whole vicious night would be worth it.
Blinded, infuriated, aching to finally kill something tonight, Pilotte sniffed the air. The area was a multitude of smells. Body odors, food, alcohol, the occasional farts. Blinded and not being particularly good with hearing, his sense of smell was the last thing he could rely on. Then he found it, the smell he was looking for. Out of all of them, one of them stood out; a distinct scent, akin to buttered popcorn, the smell of a sweaty binturong. He was currently 10 feet in front of him, moving around, trying to approach him at an angle. “Found you!” Pilotte leaped towards Eli, swinging at him with a downward strike.
Eli jumped out of the way of the attack, then swung down with his wrench, hitting Pilotte in the hand. He kept moving, staying a good distance from Pilotte, now that he realized the killer still knew where he was. He never thought that his species unique scent would betray him like this.
Even with his hand hurt, Pilotte wasn’t going to stop his assault, swinging viciously and constantly, not allowing an opening, as if he was driven mad by the loss of his eyes. His vocalizations were reduced to nothing but growls and guttural screams.
Such recklessness played right to Eli’s advantage. The young man dodged around Pilotte’s side and landed a strong hit to the back of his ribs, leaving a wrench shaped mark on his side.
Pilotte swung, Eli dodged. It didn’t matter if he knew where he was, actually. If Pilotte didn’t know what Eli was doing or was unable to read his body language, he was still at a disadvantage; in other words, thank you Pocketknife, you did good.
Pilotte could no longer comprehend what was happening. He had greater strength than both of them combined, he had greater durability than both of them combined, them teaming up shouldn’t have mattered. Now he was being overpowered by one of them on his own. He was the most free man in the world, he was the one with absolute will of his own. Why was he being held back like this?! He felt the pain of the wrench striking him in the stomach, right where his scales were flayed off from the explosion from before. That is when he knew; Eli was right in front of him. His eyes would widen with glee if he still had them. It didn’t matter what he was doing, as he smiled slowly. He was going to do it; one last ditch technique. Placing one hand on Eli’s shoulder and the other on his opposite bicep, he kept him nice, close, and personal. He lunged forward, mouth agape, and bit right into Eli’s right shoulder. A sickening crunch was heard, his mouth easily big enough to cover the whole thing.
Eli shouted in pain, clenching his jaw.
The crowd gasped, many of them unable to watch, as blood ran down Eli’s back and front. Ethan and Brook, the ones watching over Eli, were in silence. It was over. Those were the words on their minds.
But, not yet.
Eli too, with his face right up up Pilotte, did the one thing that made sense at the time. He brought his head forward, then with one good bite, sank his fangs into Pilotte’s arm. Yeah, certainly not as damaging; he just wanted to know what it was like. Still biting down on Pilotte, wanting to finish this quick before his shoulder was crushed in the lizard’s massive jaws, he brought his arm back. Then, as hard as he could, landed one solid punch into Pilotte’s damaged stomach. Just stay conscious a little bit longer. Just a bit longer and it’s over, he told himself as his vision start to fade from the blood loss. He could feel Pilotte’s grip on him weakening, his mouth opening, his teeth pulling out of his skin. Then, with great resistance, he began to slide to Eli’s side.
The silence of the moment was so great, the only noises were ones off in the distance, like the waves of the dock, the cars on the highway far far away. No one said a thing, until Pilotte slumped over to the side, coughing up a mixture of his blood and Eli’s. Then, with a deafening thud, Pilotte finally hit the ground, completely still.
“Hah…” Eli laughed, “How’s was that?” He said weakly, as he stood there, wobbling for a few second, then fell as well. He was out cold as well, but it didn’t matter, the fight was decided by the one who hit the floor first.
Results
Winner: Eli “Lost Boy” Callow + Pocketknife “Love & Hate” Guavaro
“He won!” Ethan cheered, running over, finally able to get close. “He actually did it!”
The crowd cheered, even those who bet against the tag team couldn’t help but commend their skill, and the achievement of being the ones to give Pilotte his first loss. Standing next to Brook, Bon and Iver were holding each other in the excitement, Brook too was in tears.
“Someone get a medic! Fire up the Regenerators! Get Pilotte back in his restaints!” Beryl shouted. “We have a winner here!” As the Primal staff ran over, she walked away, shaking her head, shoulders heavy with disappointment. “I lost my bet…”
The long night coming to a close, everyone wanted to talk with the Handlers of the winners, get to know them, under the false assumption that they had to either be skilled business men or phenomenal coaches. But, no matter where the crowd looked, they couldn’t find Ethan nor Brook. The two had gone off somewhere, wherever that may be. How mysterious.
Elsewhere, standing just outside the crowd, looking at the remnants of the carnage that unfolded, was the trio of Audwin, Rosemary, and Iago.
“Well, that was violent. Unexpected too.” Iago sighed, cigar in hand. “Guess that means that albino bat is Pocketknife’s Handler now.” He rubbed the side of his head. “I’m going to regret this later, aren’t I?”
Rosemary silently nodded, then looked over to her own Handler. It was a good idea to not say anything to him right now.
Audwin clenched his cane in rage. If it wasn’t so durable it’d be broken. “Ethan Callow…” He grumbled, letting out an angry chuckle, trying to dismiss his rage. “Let this be the last time you make a bet with me.”
“Angry that you got beaten?” Iago said, being the one dumb one to further annoy him.
“Silence!” Audwin shouted, pointing his cane at the badger. “Ethan didn’t do anything but beat me in a bet! I’m not outsmarted, I’m not beaten physically, and I’m not out gambled. What have I lost other than my pride?”
“Well, Mr. Being-a-Handler-is-like-a-General. Why don’t you admit that Ethan is the better General here, according to your flawless logic? …Or did that one not count?” Iago laughed right back at the old owl.
“I will never admit to such a thing. I don’t want to hear it from a lowly criminal like yourself.” Audwin tapped his cane against the ground hard, making a resounding wooden clack. “A taste of victory is just a taste. If Ethan wants to truly prove he’s better than me, then he will prove it further, through more and more battles. If he does, I can assure you, I will be the one to strike him right down to square one. I want him to live the greatest of victories, only to give him a painful and crushing defeat.” He looked to Rosemary, “You’ll be the one to do it. Correct, Rosemary?”
“If you say so, sir,” she nodded, quite enjoying watching the two argue. “I am at your call.”
“Good.” Audwin went off, Rosemary following. Like it or not, he still had to meet with Ethan before the night ended.
As for Iago, he went right to where Pocketknife was being taken. To both see if he was okay and to congratulate his son on a job well done. Yes, he was worried, but he knew his son would be fine. Perhaps he’d talk with Ethan later; that is if he Audwin doesn’t verbally damage him.
----------------------------------------
Brook and Ethan sat outside the Regenerator that held Eli. He lost a lot of blood and was severely wounded; didn’t help that apparently, Pilotte’s saliva bordered on toxic, so that wasn’t helping things. But, according to the medics and those monitoring the Regenerator, he would recover; just don’t put him in any more fights or any strenuous physical activity for at least 2 weeks. The Regenerator was a marvel of science.
“So,” Ethan said, looking to Brook, noticing the way she was rubbing her neck, feeling the phantom pain of Pilotte’s grip. So was the only word he could make out.
“So?” Brook said, looking to him with a tired expression.
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t know, Ethan, am I okay?” She sighed, “I was chased by a serial killer and I nearly died. I was physically attacked and choked. If Eli was 1 second late, I’d be dead. So let me ask you instead: Do you think I’m okay?”
“Alright, sorry,” Ethan closed his eyes, knowing it was a dumb question to ask. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing? You’re not the one who tried to kill me.”
“But I’m the one who set up the fight. I got us into the Primal scene, so I at least feel partially responsible for… Well, all of that.”
“Can it, Ethan,” She said, “Just stop talking, alright. I don’t want to hear it right now.”
Ethan went silent, nodding, he knew talking would only make things worse. It was so rare for her to get mad.
How much time passed since they decided to go quiet? It was probably just a few minutes, the two of them just sat in silence, with no noise other than distance chatter and the hum of the Regenerator behind them. That was until Brook spoke up. “By the way, where were you that whole time? You just ghosted me there.”
“Sorry, I was kind of forced into a business meeting.” He explained, “Some other Handlers wanted to meet with me and there was no way for me to turn them down.” He watched Brook’s expression carefully, looking for any signs of her mood worsening. “Sorry, but, I… Would’ve joined with you but again, this was a situation that I couldn’t turn down. I’m sorry. I’m really really sor-”
“Stop apologizing!” She raised her voice, now sounding truly annoyed. “You always do that shit! Stuff goes out of your hands, shit goes under, and you’re there sobbing and whining that things were your fault or that you could’ve done things better!” She jabbed him in the shoulder. Not in her usual friendly way. She punched him like she meant it. “’I’m sorry.’ That’s the phrase that’s getting on my nerves. I’ve had it with the self pity!”
“Why are you yelling at me?” He asked, startled.
“Maybe because I just nearly died and you keep apologizing, as if I should be the one to tell you that it’s okay! As if we should all feel pity for you as if this was somehow something you messed up on! It’s fucking annoying!”
“I just asked you if you were okay and you acted passive aggressive! Now you’re mad that I’m showing concern?” He fired back at her. “You’re the one overreacting.”
Brook had no more to say on it, but she was still aggravated. Even now, she was unable to let the argument end. “Yeah… Whatever… Let’s just leave it. It’s all about you in the end, isn’t it? You meet with other members of Primal, you took the invitation, you set up the fights. I’m just a bystander. All because you want to find your dear old dad.”
That there, struck a nerve. Without thinking, Ethan snapped at her. “Maybe because you, Brook, haven’t experienced loss like I have!” As soon as the words left his mouth, his expression went immediately from anger, to regret.
Brook teary eyed, too felt the same regret for what she had said. The two look at each other, face to face, until Brook stood up. “Ethan… I get it. We’ve both said stupid shit here, but… Let’s just stay apart for a while, okay? Maybe it’s that I’m not thinking straight. Maybe we’re both tired and angry. But… I’m going to take some money to go on vacation next week. I… Think I just need some time away. Right?”
Ethan nodded, still feeling regret. He didn’t say sorry. He knew that word was what caused this. No words could resolve this, only time. He watched as Brook walked away, leaving him alone with the Regenerator. Only when she was a good distance away, did he let out his emotion, burying his face in his hands, sobbing.