They charged.
Thunderous, heavy steps smashed against the floorboards, two heavy set men gained momentum with each movement, as they intended on bringing eachother pain.
Luke, while damaged and tired, was still in better physical shape. With his body battered as it may be, he was still in peak human condition. He knew the limits of this body, he knew how to operate it, how to use it to it's fullest.
At arms lengt away from each other, the fat man pullet his fist back, aiming to release a punch packed with all of his weight and speed behind it.
Luke was faster.
He shot into the air from his bleeding leg and drove his left knee into the Fat Mans face, he could feel the brain rattle from the shock.
They both froze for a moment, as if the time stopped.
Luke immidietly felt that won't be enough to bring the opponent down. He hooked his left hand on the folds of the neck, and dug his knee into the mans fat, sweaty belly, digging in it for puchase.
From the top, he started pummeling the bald head with his right elbow.
Slam after a slam, the heavy hits pounded against the thick skin, some cutting it open. The elbow slashed from the side, and dug deeply while flying down.
Sweat mixed with blood as in a span of 5 seconds, five elbows were struck down.
The Fat Man seemed not to notice the damage, he struggled to detach Luke from himself but could not do it, his grip slipped.
With animalistic rage, he turned to the side and slammed Luke against the pillar, making him loose the hold on the back of the Fat Mans neck.
Before Luke could even land, he was grabbed by the meaty hands, and they squeezed around his ribs, making Luke squeel and growl in anguish.
He could feel his flesh shift and subconciously he wanted to use his magic, his powers, that brought him back to focus, that pathetic feeling.
He felt shame. He felt anger at himself and his own weaknes. The one revealed now, and the one echoing in his mind, the one accumulated from the past.
Mindlessly, he started punching his opponent, heavy, rugged fists started smashing wildly and without aim, only purpose was to smash, to hurt, to release.
His whole body was swaying as he was still hanging in the air, his back pushed against the pillar.
The rain of punches suprised his opponent, the fists obstructing his vision, yet his mind so set ablaze by The Blitz he felt no pain, he cared for no damage, he only wanted to hurt, to have more fun, to feel the Power.
His biceps bulged and the veins on his forearms throbbed as he started slaming the whole body of Luke against the pillar and the ceilnig, stopping the punches from connecting to his face.
He thrashed him like a toddler using a teddy bear to throw a temper tantrum, slam after slam, Luke's back turned purpe as bruises appeared where the edge of the pillar dug in.
Slam after slam, his head rocked against the ceiling, the metal part of the upper deck, making the wooden boards connected to it detach and creak. Splinters falling from the sky as if snow pettals.
Luke was concussed, in pain, out of breath and furious.
He was not having a good time.
He drove his elbows into the forearms of the fat pig, and after some struggle managed to loosen them.
The man reacted to it with a laugh, and slammed him high into the ceiling, and as if a father catching his infant son he once again embraced him, and chucked him with a power of a shot put, making Luke fly over the fallen enemies and tumble on the ground, rolling on his side few times before coming to a stop.
„What the hell...” Lukas was sure something was amiss, no one mortal could hold this much strenght. As he spoke, his ribs swam around in his ribcage, the sounds that reverbrated through his lungs was ghastly. His chest spazmed and he heard the little bitch in him begging to use magic. To heal at least, to strenghen, to end this quickly.
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He sniffled as he stood up, blood was welling up from the swelling on his face and his nasal cavity was almost completly blocked by clots and drug crystals.
He felt at home.
But he knew the little bitch in him was right, this has to end quickly. Time to get technical. Time to direct the brutality.
He eyed his surroundings, the tables, the floor for anything usefull. The Fat Pig was rambling, and actually mid sentence took out another vial from his pocket, and with sweat rolling of his sausage fingers barely managed to grip the glass fask and brake it, pouring more of its vibrant contents into his eyes. Uncaring for any potential shards cutting apart the eyeballs.
Luke was actually dumbstruck by this, what kind of an idiot and a degenerate would do something like this mid scuffle?
„...” his thoughts went blank as he remembered „...My kind... so that's how it feels to be on the other side of this. I get why Klaus was so stunned.” After that moment of self reflection, he sprinted once again, stomping with heavy thuds.
The Fat Man grinned and showed his yellowed teeth, bellowed at the top of his lungs and swung in an arc, thrashing luke with the bottom of his palm as if a baseball slam. Luke reacted accordingly, lifting his legs of the ground and bracing his left bicep and forearm tightly to his chest, a shield of flesh and bone.
Lukes body shot to the side, in a blink of an eye he crashed agaisnt the couch. The fabric ripped with a screach as the wooden frame shattered on impact. Splinters dug into the tough skin but failed to pierce it. Luke rebounded off the thrashed furniture and grabbed some bottles on his way up. The Fat Man stomped heavily, breathing like a steam engine. Sweat pooled from his body, actual steam was starting to be visible around his frame.
Luke started chucking the glass containers at him, with the power of a baseball pitcher they shattered on contact, and peppered the Man with tiny blades that caused his skin to bleed just as much as he sweated.
As the Fat Man blocked with sloppy cross guard, Luke ran forward, and jumping off a wobbly wooden crate used as a table, he released another spinning back kick, the heel pushing through the cross guard and causing the Piggy to tumble backwards a few steps.
Just as soon as Luke touched the ground, he made distance, short steps covered the space between him and the fallen opponent. It took him only a second to find the extendable metal baton, and with a roll, which he immidietly regreated as his ribs sang the symhony of pain, he grabbed the metal tool and re-took the low wrestlers stance, now armed.
He looked at the enemy, a true brute in stature and actions, powerful without doubt, even without the Blitz, Luke could see the danger he would pose.
His grip on the metal handle tightened. His knuckles turning white and wrist shaking from pressure.
He measured the Piggy, and he saw exactly what he expected. The man's body heat became palpable, there was an outpour of sweat drops from him as he struggled to get up from an all fours position, unable to pry his knee under his belly and find purchase. His breaths were haggard and rapid. Luke noticed that the mans elbows and fingers were bruised, broken and swollen. His hits did damage, He wasn't invoulnerable, he was just unfeeling.
*Whatever the Blitz does, it only does temporarly, and at an increasing price. The Strengh, Will and Instinct are enhanced beyond limits, but the body is unable to cope. Lungs, heart, probably kidneys and liver too. From the looks of it, it doesn't regenerate, at least not in any meaningful way. It must be something like Pervatin in WW2. I will need to look into this.* Luke's thoughts swirled in the back of his head as he planned the steps to end this whole scuffle.
He took stock of his own body and honestly, he wasn't faring that much better. Difficulty breathing from the broken nose and ribs that by miracle have not yet pierced his lungs. Both legs are fucked, his stamina is running out and his concussed brain is begging him for a nap.
„Well, no time like the present!” He announced as he started his last charge, the Piggy was almost uprigt and about to turn to his left to face Luke.
With the turn, came a powerful back fist aimed to decapitate Luke.
He barely managed to dodge it, sliding under it, using the wetness of the floor and his momentum.
On his way, he managed to swipe the metal rod of the ground and grasp it tightly in his right palm. His fingers coiled around the rubber grip and it squelched under pressure. Just as his body's momentum ended it's forced sway he redirected his movement, and rushed the turning fat man.
Keepin low, under the level of the portruding belly he swept around the enemy, treating his kneecaps and ankles like war drums and pounding on them with the rod mercilessly.
Even with the Blitz in his system, the fat man could feel the cartlige pulverize and bones crack, tendons tense and snaping with each hit. He started to loose his footing, and each swing took longer and missed more and more.
Luke smiled as a fist swung widely far above his head, missing it entirely. He rolled into motion, circling his prey like a hyena, nabbing at any revealed opening as if taking out bites of a tired animal.
His fangs sunk deeply.
The Fat Man could't remain upright, both his legs were battered and bleeding, he stumbled backwards almost steping on Luke as he was punding on the back of the mans knees with the metal tool.
In the last moment, he managed to roll over the ground, still squeeling from the ribs incessant flare of pain.
The Piggy his the guard rails and had to rest on both his elbows to support his weight. Bloody spit and fleghm caked his rabid face as the beady eyes, now even less visible with the growing swelling, were glaring with killing intent at Luke who was having some trouble standing back up.
The Fat Man cursed and swung his fist but even with his dampened sense of pain, he could not take a step away from the railing.
Luke smiled at that, he knew exactly what to do.
Slowly, he closed the distance, walking with leaisurely pace to enrage the enemy even more. He stopped just at the edge of his enemies reach, and as another useless swipe was coming at him he met it with a powerful slam of the metal rod.
The rod dented, folded around the fist and the vibrations ripped it from Luke's grip. He cared not, for his focus was entirely on the mangled mess that the fist became on impact. It was almost cut in half, the metal imbeded deeply into the flesh, pulverising bone and tendons alike, blood vessels burst together with skin and a flower of crimson blossomed, punctuated by the bone shards poking through, like morning dew gathered on petals.
The man roared in response, wrist limp, fingers unresponsive, his whole head throbbed and veins pulsed, his eyes swirled with color and madnes alike.
Luke followed the retracting arm, and voulted over the mans left shoulder, hooking onto his sweaty shirt and flabs of fat. He swung like a pendulum and hung from his neck, good 6-8 meters above ground, with both his arms wrapped around the mans neck in a chokehold.
Luke could feel the man trying to distance himself from the ledge, from the railing, he couldn't allow that.
He raised his kneed, banging them on the guardrail mid movement and rested them on it. With a mighty push, he strained his thight and dragged the fat man higher, like a hangman, he reacted with panic and agressive swaying, trying to do anything he could to remain grounded, to catch even a sliver of air into his lungs.
Luke smiled as he felt the panic, and as the mans arms flayed and the only functional one tried to grab the railing, he switched his hold, and slipped his right arm under the pool of sweat that was the armpit of the fat man, instantly re-locking his palms in an unyielding clasp.
With his left forearm still cutting of air and having dug deeply under the mans chins, and his right arm locked lower, he strained for the last time and the railing indented under the amassed weight and force. The metal groaned as the huge body finally tipped over it and with a slight jump, Luke forced them both to fall.
Almost like a suplex, Luke bent his back as much as his body allowed him, forcing the fat man to dive head first into the now emptied dance floor as people who noticed him hanging seconds before scattered in panic.
The fall took only 3 seconds, yet lasted for so long. As they made their way down Luke's mind was clear, emptied. He only registered his surroundings passively, the only thing that mattered was that the Fat Man hits the ground. The ground that was getting closer.
Both of them slammed into the ground almost at the same time, skulls cracked against pavement, rendering both of them uncocnious instatntly. Luke managed to fall to the side, by miracle not getting crushed under the weight of the opponent as their bodies sprawled on the floor.
Screams erupted in their surroundings, the darkness receaded as the main lamps were turned on and a dozen bouncers rushed at the dance floor, forcing the people to leave and trying to bring some order.