Matt sat up, the dull ache in his chest vanishing as a soothing feeling washed over him as he respawned. Once again he found himself lying in the same spot, what was this the second time he had died in this game? It didn't matter, surging to his feet the blood pumping in his heart spread to his extremities like a spark of flame through gasoline. Springing up he opened the crude container that he and Willow had made to store armor and pulling out a set he donned it in record time, pulling the clothing on himself faster than a man having to flee his lover's room.

The weapons they had stacked to one side of the room, and Matt was easily armed, grabbing two guns, one single shot rifle and one revolver, holstering the revolver and slinging the rifle over his back with the strap that was attached to it. He also grabbed one of the wicked looking blades they had collected, or as Willow had said jokingly, they had borrowed, with no intention of ever returning. The blade he picked up was long and wicked looking, stretching almost the length of his forearm, and ending in a set of brass knuckles at the top instead of a handle. It was a trench spike, or rather a trench short sword as Willow had called it.

He rushed out, coming back down the way he came, but instead of vaulting out of the window like last time he called out to Willow. “Hey Willow, I am going to need some cover fire!” he shouted, there was a short pause before she called back to him.

“I think I can do that.” she growled, peaking her head out and squeezing off a shot before vanishing behind the wall of rubble again. “But I am running real damn low on ammo, I have started to use your dropped ammo, and even that is wearing a little thin.”

“That's fine, all I need is to get to that building, after that it will be all up to me, once I am there I want you to loot and get rearmed, but do not follow, use the windows for vantage, but don't let her exit the building, if she does so I think she will likely get away.” he growled, the words barking from his lips with a savage sound that curled Willow’s lips with a dark smile. Thats right, this was a side she knew, a side of him that only she could fully embrace, she doubted very much that Monica would be able to take this version of Matt in stride like this, not now, and not ever. “How is Monica?” he asked, still crouched by the window.

“Dead.” she stated flatly, but Matt heard some emotion there, it was hard to place but when he did he frowned.

Satisfaction?

“How?” he barked at her, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Stray bullet.” Willow answered with a happy quip. His eyebrows inched skyward and he shook his head, stray bullets indeed? “I think we should both go, we have a better chance of getting her in there-”

“No.” he stated shortly, she snapped her mouth shut. “Let me do this ok Willow?” he couldn't see her but he could feel her assent, it was a strange sensation, and he didn't know how he knew but he still knew. “On three.” he called out, and did a countdown in his head, Willow was able to follow it seeing as she was also in his head, and knew exactly when he surged forward.

She rose over the debris and wheeled to aim her weapon and pulled the trigger, the loud bark of the automatic rifle creating a din and commotion that was quite impressive, instead of simply holding down the trigger she pulsed her finger, giving a near steady stream of bullets but also making it so that the bullets also did not stay to far from her target, and also conserving some ammunition just incase she would need some after Matt’s mad rush.

He flew out of the window, the ground rushing up to meet him, or he going down to embrace it he really didn't know, the duster he was wearing flapped in the wind , rising around his torso only held in place there by the belt cinched around his waist. The flapping of the cloak revealed the pants underneath, simple jeans covered in rusted metal plates, strapped onto the pants with a sort of haphazard coat of plates look to them. He tucked his chin in and felt through his beard the metal breast plate that rested under the duster, with a sound like a heavy object hitting the floor he met the ground, arching his feet to disperse the twenty foot drop and rolled forward, accompanied by the jingle of metal on metal and the rustle of leather. He sprung up, eyes blazing and ran forward, all sense of self preservation vanishing from his mind, a predatory look in his blue eyes a savage smile on his lips and liquid fire pulsing through his veins.

He rushed forward with a speed like a man possessed, rushing a group of stacked and burned out cars, each piled up in the middle of the street. It looked like they had been stripped for anything and everything they could give, leaving only a trio of skeletons, each stacked on the other in haphazard ways. He grabbed the roof of one of them and vaulted through feet first through the gap that the now doorless vehicle had, using his momentum to swing himself through the small space.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

He felt the shot more than heard it, it struck the car not a foot from his hand still clamped on the roof , it went through, and missed his head by a mere foot, but he could feel the force of its passing as the kinetic forces applied themselves to his shoulder and face, causing a numbing sensation to spread at an alarming rate. The shards of metal that shot around as it entered first the roof and then the floorboard shredded his hand and part of his lower back, with a grimace he let go of the roof, mid swing and shot through the car like a boy leaping off of a swing, brown duster flapping behind him like the wings he now seemed to have as he flew out. He hit the ground and after a single stumble was off again, charging the last 100 yards to the building’s entrance. Catching a glint in the corner of his eye he looked up and saw her pointing the gun at him from a third story window.

There was no escaping this.

But before she could pull the trigger another shot burst out, he didn't see it, but he saw the result, the bullet tore through the woman’s exposed thigh, causing her to stumble, and the bullet she had just fired instead of hitting its target buried itself in the concrete of the sidewalk a few inches away. Shards of concrete flew up and stung Matt like wasps, but he didn't even wait to say a thanks, he simply vaulted into the building, rolling through a broken glass window, curling himself into a ball to make himself small enough to fit through the small entrance seeing as all the other ones were boarded up.

He hit the ground with a muffled ‘oof’ and wasted no time rolling to the side, and was thankful he did, it would seem as though she had fired bling through the floors with her rifle at his sound alone, making more chunks of concrete and dust rain down around him from where he used to be.

“Did I get you?” a pretty voice called out., Matt could almost see the smile as the woman’s purple eyes blazed with joy at the fight and her lips curled up. He didn't even have to see her, he could feel it, she was a kindred spirit.

She was a hunter.

“Hmm, if I say I am now dead will you believe me?” he called back, a small smile on his lips as he rolled to his feet and pulled out the rifle, only to frown when he found the stock cracked, it must have happened when he had landed on it, damn that thing was going to kick like hell. He also winced at the pain his hand, looking at it he found the left hand ripped up something fierce and slathered in a copious amount of blood, it was getting stiff and hard to move. Cursing to himself he slung the rifle and using his right hand he pulled the revolver out of its holster.

A short barking laugh sounded overhead, and without thinking he shot upward through the roof, throwing himself to the side to avoid any return fire. “I like a man that has a sense of humor.” she called back, “And one that has your brutal honesty.”

“Honesty?” he called back with a short laugh, “That's the first I think anyone has complimented me on that.” he rolled again as another shot buried itself where he had been.

“Oh, yes, not many people would allow themselves to be as honest as you, following your whims and desires.”

“Sounds like you speak from experience.”

“Perhaps, what of it?” more shots rang out, each arching towards the other’s voices. Matt reloaded the revolver.

“Marco!” Matt called out, his lips quirking in a smile as he mounted the stairs with silent feet, there was a long silence as he waited for the reply he had no doubt he was going to hear.

“Polo!” a short barking laugh called back, he rushed up the stairs, rolling and making a lot more noise than needed be, bullets showered around him as he reached the third story of the bombed out building. He hid himself behind a concrete pillar, opening the revolver’s chamber and dumping the empty cases out, and slid more bullets home, ignoring the sizzling pain the heated chamber made to his fingers as he pushed the bullets in and snapped it shut.

“Marco!” he called out, a smile on his lips growing so large his teeth glinted in the dark of the building’s interior. Directly behind him a almost laughing voice called out the counter sign. With a smile he rounded the corner at a dead run, rushing the woman, she already had the gun leveled at him, and with a satisfied smile she pulled the trigger, he twisted slightly before she fired, the bullet gouged the side of his left thigh, ripping the flesh off almost to the bone, causing him to stumble, but the momentum carried him forward still, stumbling or not.

The collision was spectacular, the sniper was hit with such a force they folded over in half at the waist, as the wrecking ball that was known as Matt hit her dead center. The two fell to the ground, Matt pinning the woman down with both hands on her wrists and his gun discarded.

The mask fell off her face, revealing a striking beauty of around her mid twenties. Deep purple eyes locked with his and her long blond curls arrayed about her head in a halo of hair, as blood and sweat streaked down her face, cutting away the grim she had accumulated in small rivulets that seemed to stream off her.

“Well then, I must say, this is the first time I have been so aggressively persuaded.” she spoke in a husky voice, low and seductive. “That is one way to get a lady's attention, I admit.” she laughed low in her throat and looked at him through half veiled eyes.

“Oh good then I have your attention?”

“Undividedly...Mathew.”

“You can just call me Matt, everyone else does.” he smiled at her, a drop of blood fell from his face where a piece of concrete shard had cut it and landed in the corner of her mouth, her pink tongue darted out and quickly lapped it away, her eyes never leaving his. “You seem to have me at a disadvantage miss…?”

“More than one if we are being honest,” she laughed, and before he could say anything else she brought her legs up to his midriff, kicking him in the stomach and attempting to push him off of her, one of his arms came free, and she used this to snatch his trench knife and draw it. He released both hands and put them up to stop the blade from going through his heart, instead allowing it to slide through his ruined hand. With a savage twist he wrung the blade out of her hand, still stabbed through him and twisted it around, unsheathing it from his flesh and driving it home into her chest.

Blood leaked out of her mouth and she looked down at her chest, a smile showed up on her face, “That is one way to get to a woman’s heart,” she coughed some blood up, splattering it on his face and neck. “Next time, love.” she laughed.

“I look forward to it.” he smiled back, as he watched her purple eyes glass over. “Next time.”

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