It Can't Get Any Crazier Than This
“… and like it has happened for several years already, we've ought to see the world isn't as pretty anymore…” As the preacher continued his speech for a minute after beginning, Phesx lifted his eyes before staring at the old lady. He felt something, and as he looked at her, she revealed a shiny irregularly shaped metal under her upper garments while looking at him.
Phesx Caolia evaluated his situation. Staring at the middle-aged lady take the thing out, holding it with her hands covered by thin, cleaning white gloves. Her fingers became bloodied immediately as she brandished it towards his neck.
“Oh, you boy. You’re too young. You shouldn’t have thrown your life for some lagjs.” Phesx rapidly elbowed her neck, still bending his back a bit. The lady couldn’t continue her words, holding her neck before Phesx grabbed her wrist and directed the strangely shaped blade to her collarbone.
“AA- gagagagaghhk!” The lady’s eyes went up behind her mask. Phesx stood with his feet on the pew as he looked behind. The other young Artistas were also attacked, but these were much worse off as they sat in the middle of a pew or surrounded by many other older people.
Everyone who wasn’t the young Artistas moved, taking blades out with irregular shapes, some cut their fingers to hold them, while others grabbed actual knives and even showed a few tiny handguns. They came here knowing what was happening, and prepared.
“What- wha- what is happening?!” The preacher called out, flabbergasted and stunned on the spot as he saw the hell before him. Phesx looked back just in time to watch an old man approach him, semi-running with a wide knife held in reverse and raised high.
The preacher didn’t see it coming, or thought someone was fleeing towards him. When the knife came down on his chest, it was too late to stop it. The preacher’s humble, simple suit began darkening, becoming wet from the blood flowing from his wounds as the old man kept stabbing.
‘They’re even killing each other.’ Phesx thought as he saw a few more fighting each other, trying to kill one another in what looked like different parties within this cult of the crazy. Then, Phesx looked back just in time to see an oldie who was looking at his young Artistas getting ganged upon. His eyes went wide when he turned and saw Phesx was fine.
Looking at the dying middle-aged lady with blood all down her chest and stomach, the old man said before bending over to grab a thin knife resting on the pew. “How are you still alive?”
Phesx looked as the old man’s wrinkled hands reached out and grabbed its handle. After he did, Phesx finally moved, breaking off that wrist, grabbing the knife in reverse, and shooting it into the old man’s glabella. Phesx immediately retrieved the knife and stood up, stepping on the pew’s backrest.
Just then, a person from his same pew stood up and launched himself at him, devoted to stop him with a porcelain white hammer in his right hand. Phesx’s readily lifted his left foot backwards, hitting the old man’s chin with his hindfoot, breaking the old man’s neck and part of the skull along the jaw.
Yet, before Phesx could continue after jumping to the other pew behind him, trying to reach the tomboy, someone caught him in the air just after, tackling him against the wall. Phesx took the brunt softly before stabbing the vertebral column. It broke easily with the knife and his punches.
But by then, as the old man’s limp body fell to the floor, Phesx was approached by a dozen others, all with weapons of their own and clearly unafraid of death.
Phesx widened his eyes, taking a good look at each of the young Artistas as he was cornered. The tomboy was constantly thrown on her back, struggling against an old man or woman at a time before getting up, cutting some throats, piercing some eyes, and thrown on her back again.
The other young Artista was a little further away, on the other column of pews. He was punching, scratching, and stabbing and cutting as many as possible from the beginning. Only a few seconds passed since these old folk became mad.
Gray, grayish-blue, white, or silvery hair moved towards the young Artistas. Phesx was no exception. Even though his quick knife stabbing motions alarmed those rapidly surrounding him, they only hesitated for a second before resuming.
Phesx saw a white poker come at his eyes. He stopped it with his left hand’s grab and pulled the arm holding it towards him, using the thin knife to cut the jugulars before kicking the dying body away. But then, an old lady threw her nails at him, wanting to scratch his right cheek off.
Phesx grabbed the poker, twirled it in his hand, and stabbed the hand before moving for a better position, but 3 other old men jumped at him from the pew on his right. Phesx was thrown back into place by old men who didn’t care if they hurt themselves doing so.
At the same time, the same person swinging a knee-attack which Phesx wanted to avoid landed on his left side, almost breaking a rib or more as he fell to the floor. Phesx’s eyebrows twitched before he made a hook stance with his right hand.
Grasping and breaking off one of the old men’s necks while the others began punching his torso with their reverse fists. Phesx elbowed another’s head to death before pushing his thumbs into the last old man’s eyes as his head was kicked and thrown things. Phesx tried to avoid as many hits as possible, but his movement was limited, and he was locked in place. A landed on his head accurately, and they weren’t light just because they came from old people.
Phesx grabbed those feet, pulling them and making the folk fall to their backs. Some hit their head, becoming dumb as they stared at the ceiling. Phesx didn’t have to take care of them as they were trampled by their own people.
On the other hand, he stood up, but as soon as he did, someone came to him with their handgun aiming at his face. Phesx drew his head backwards, grabbing the hand holding the gun with his index and middle fingers directing the muzzle elsewhere.
Bang bang bang bang… Phesx continued deviating the handgun as it was fired and fired. He pushed the elderly holding it against the back instead, pulling and slamming the back of their head against it until the handgun was dropped.
Phesx rapidly caught it in the air after punching the old man’s head to hit its back and crush it on the wall, crouching before clearing an area around him. Old men and women fell with broken masks or holding their necks in pain, beginning to choke in their own blood.
… Meanwhile, outside the narthex, the people walking around the streets were left startled and fearful after a few gunshots went off. Atop the house on the other side of the street, the Riverlye groups watched the footage from a monitor of the cameras.
“What the hell is going on?” Teon frowned as Layo did the same with her arms crossed. Before they immediately acted, Pheli gave the order. “We’ve been ratted out. Get ready to clear. Finish the mission and escape!”
She jumped over the ledge, sliding her feet on the wall a bit before impulsing her body forward, rolling on the ground before tumbling one of the garbage cans with her feet; which the old lady gave them during their stay. Pheli picked her large, bulky rifle before making some ruckus.
Her group moved behind her while the rest moved a second later, joining the ruckus as they made the civilians clear out the area. A police car happened to drive by the sidewalk of the church. They stopped after receiving reports but became alerted when strong gunfire sounded.
They barely had any time to get out of their cars before they were pushed against the ground with their necks feeling a muzzle for the first time. “Don’t move and behave!”
Imán and the bald man who is always with him brought the police units to the side before tying their wrists and legs. As they did, gunshots continued ringing from inside, occasionally, and with Pheli trying to open the entryway, but it wouldn’t budge.
They didn’t bring explosives, so they could only open it with firepower…
… Inside the narthex, Phesx barely arrived at the tomboy’s spot, whereas her mask was partially broken and her right eye area showed through the broken gap. Phesx came tackling a few old people, rapidly taking care of them with knife stabs, before moving the tomboy onto a pew. He went on a frenzy to punch heads, jaws, and necks until their owners’ breathing stopped ringing in his ears.
When Phesx was just feeling heated from the inside like a small furnace burning with lava, he noticed the corpses around him and the broken pews were all that remained. Phesx breathed in quick, brusque motions before looking at the tomboy.
Her torso was stabbed 7 times, with the weapons still in her. 2 at her shoulders, 1 at her solar plexus, 1 at her left ribs, and 3 in her lower belly. The latter were all irregularly shaped blades without handles and with double edges.
She looked up at Phesx as most of her blood covered her clothes, bathing some of her mask with it, too. Her hands trembled sideways, rising them and trying to stand up, but couldn’t. Phesx helped her sit up against the wall. Her lips trembled, but he felt he knew what she wanted.
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Taking her mask off, Phesx could already tell another Artista corpse was being brutalized and humiliated, as he at least gave the tomboy a moment.
She seemed to breathe better after taking her mask off, looking around with relaxed eyes before resting them on Phesx. As he saw her light dissipating from her eyes, Phesx grabbed her bloody, broken, mangled-skinned hands softly.
Her head then relaxed, almost falling. Phesx stopped her body from collapsing, putting her in a comfortable sitting position before turning around.
“Welcome!” Just then, as Phesx turned around and faced the remaining crowd of old people taking turns slamming, cutting, and stabbing the other young Artista’s body, a young man walked from the pulpit’s side.
“Eh? What’s going on? Why’s there still one alive?” The young man, a white innocent-looking fella with slender build, square face, and short jet black hair, looked bothered before running back.
Phesx narrowed his eyes, grabbing a porcelain white hatchet from one of the corpses the tomboy made. He looked at the fleeing back of the young man with a brown tuxedo before throwing it towards him.
The young man was just turning around a corner where he met a small group of people, with an old man with grayish-blue hair combed backwards with 2 beauties holding his arms walking towards the narthex. “Sir, wait! It’s not clean yet. There’s still one more nefarious sinner who hasn’t been sacrificed to the thin air of our eye’s salv-”
Pwlaack! The hatchet suddenly landed on his nape. The young man was still running. When he was hit, he could only turn his head before directly dropping to the floor. His head ended up unnaturally bending before his neck broke when meeting the floor head-on.
“What is going on?!” The old man said as the young women were scared out of their lives. They walked into view, only to watch as Phesx barged into the mob of cultists’ back, pushing everyone outwards before punching the shit out of their brains.
When Phesx had just killed 3 more old people with his bloodied clothes and bare hands, the old man stopped and hurriedly took his handgun out. He aimed it at Phesx, to which Phesx rolled with an elderly’s corpse swung in rotation by his feet.
Bang bang bang… The old man shot Phesx but failed to land any on him. After Phesx avoided the shots, he looked at the old man slowly following his movements with the gun. Phesx rolled his eyes before rushing towards the old man, ignoring everyone else as he got to punch some old lunatics with all of his strength to stop them from tackling him.
“Aaaaah!” The old man screamed before and as he was tackled by Phesx, not even able to shoot again. The beauties beside him screamed as Phesx began tearing the old man’s face with just his hands, grabbing and squeezing his skin and hair.
Phesx’s eyes were madly focused on his work that he couldn’t hear the beauties’ screaming, nor the sobbing, sorrowful cries of the old people rushing to his back. Phesx stopped out of the blue when he felt a beauty slap his back to stop him, finding bravery in numbers.
His halt paralyzed the beauties, before Phesx spun 180 degrees atop the old man’s twitching, dying body. Phesx’s right foot tumbled the beauty who attacked him on his right. She felt to the floor, and as soon as she did, he grabbed the old man’s pistol handgun and aimed at her breasts and groins.
Bang bang bang bang… thud- bang bang- stomp! Crushhh…
Phesx cruelly fired the beauty’s body as she twisted once and then slowly relaxed on the floor, her heart suffering a tremendous blow, not figuratively speaking. Phesx could hear the first beauty’s heart crushing from within as he looked at the other with a squint, who flinched with her eyes wide open. Before she could flee, her right heel was struck by the tip of Phesx’s left shoe.
Before she fell, Phesx rapidly stood up and brought her head to the old man’s groins, still suffering to die. Phesx stunned the beauty, who barely recognized where she fell, when a pair of bullets crushed the back of her head and her life gone with them.
Phesx immediately stomped his feet after shooting twice with his chin up. He crushed the woman’s head apart, joining it with the man’s groins, before looking at the crowd rushing at him.
Bang bang bang bang bang- fwp- Plop!
Several old folk’s heads were shot, but the handgun had few bullets, not even a full magazine. Phesx threw it at some point, cracking open a slender, weak-looking old man with long, obscure gray hair running towards him with barely a breath.
They at least had conviction to go after him no matter what. Phesx ignored it, grabbing a white stake from the floor before throwing it to the fastest in their group. Phesx pierced their left eye before charging into the group, using the old man with the pierced eye as a shield before stealing and stabbing more weapons to old folk as he ‘danced’ on the floor and lunged at them.
Just several seconds later, guards appeared from the pulpit’s sides, looking at the sexually cruel display of murder at the edge of the pulpit before looking at Phesx killing the last few zealots.
“He killed our God!” - “Oh my gooooood!” - “How could this be? Stop him! AAAAH!”
Phesx looked at the incoming guards, who carried submachine guns, small ones, and not everyone, but still dangerous. Phesx rapidly dispatched the last few old folk, having saved the fatty ones for last, and cut their knees, behind them, and their heels. He rapidly positioned to take cover.
Trrrr rrrr rrrr rrrrr rrrr rrrrrr rrrrr rrrrr… Phesx’s body was covered by living and dead bodies, protecting him from the front and below from the bouncing bullets alike. Those who were still alive had a little seizure before the guards began reloading, shouting, “Your sacrifice will be well-thanked in the eye’s vision!”
The dying old folk nodded, contented to hear them. Phesx looked at this with a frown before tossing the dying folk to the side. The guards were too slow reloading. Although Phesx didn’t expect this, he still had time to act, steal a gun, and kill them.
However, just then… Bang-ta bang-ta bang-ta bang-ta! Ta ta ta! Trrrr rrrrr rrrrrrrrr rrrrrrr rrrrrr rrrrrrrr rrrrrr rrrrrr rrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrr!
THUD! Powerful weapons shot at the entryway. So much that the guards began pissing themselves. Phesx rolled to the side as a gunfight directly ensued, whereas only the guards didn’t know it. From the outside, every single guard lost at least a third of their bodies before dying or dropping to the ground, wishing they could scream but couldn’t, slowly dying.
“Fox!” Teon shouted before finding him. She hurried to him and checked his neck for his vitals. Phesx grabbed her wrist with force, nearly starting a brawl with his feet already moving towards her neck, when he stopped. His eyes looked at her face for a few seconds before blinking.
Teon was paralyzed, 3 parts because of fear, and 7 parts amazed. She felt like she met one of those powerful individuals she managed to see a couple of years ago. So focused they could kill anyone, or start a fight with, but able to restrain themselves anyway.
“Come on,” Teon helped him up while the rest advanced further into the church, with raging gunfire sounding nonstop. Teon covered his head with his cloak and gave him a red mask. Phesx put it on the tip of his nose before it extended to cover his face, feeling a bit better.
“Wait,” Phesx said, stopping Teon before going for the tomboy’s body. He didn’t bother with the other as it turned into a mess along with the others. Otherwise, Phesx wouldn’t have made such a horrible scene to cover it up, and he couldn’t just specifically find that other young Artista’s remains.
“You still got strength left?” Teon ceremoniously asked as Phesx carried the tomboy out. There, he saw the group of the young Artista guarding the streets. The group leader nodded at him.
Phesx looked around at the people taking videos from afar, some were top-notch cameras, probably enthusiasts or concealed news reporters. Others just used their phones or their thin, digital 'windows'.
The air felt a bit heated still, but not as much. It would soon become cold, but it was still a hot climate across Lýmoca. In no time, Phesx heard the groups returning, with only 2 fairly injured.
“I’m sorry,” Phesx nodded at Pheli before looking at the tomboy’s group leader. He presented her body to him. The group leader looked at the tomboy’s resting eyes before giving his small pistols to another Artista, grabbing the tomboy’s corpse.
“Thanks. As a matter of fact, it’s a surprise you also managed to live through it. You are a madman. It kept you alive long enough to be rescued… Good Artistas not only survive, but make their enemy fear not just Riverlye’s name, but oneself.” The group leader said before rushing into the truck the other group had prepared for everyone.
“Come on, time to leave,” Pheli said with her rifle on her back, not stopping walking towards the truck. Phesx nodded, joining the others to enter the truck. It was half as long as a bus, enough for 30+ people to step in and escape.
Once inside the truck, Phesx had barely stepped inside, when Pheli’s arms coiled around him and her body pushed against his. She brought him to sit somewhere, with her thighs on his lap as she held his hands with her face up close to his.
“…” - “…” Their eyes locked on each other as the truck’s doors were closed. They were an intimate spectacle to observe before everything went dark.
***
Proteros. Presidential precinct. Still morning; late morning.
In the meeting hall where the president, his presidential secretary, some attendants, and his cabinet were holding. They were just discussing matters of the country’s security when alarming news were delivered from the internal intelligence department, from the new number of the government. People reported the appearance of lagjs, and of those with the highest recognition so far, at least in Lýmoca.
They paused their security session to take a look at what was happening. Usually, these meetings would take place daily in the afternoon, whenever the president wasn’t too busy with his letters, or took a break from them.
However, ever since more than 2 weeks ago, the president became injected with chicken blood. He now held these meetings in the morning, around 9 to 10 AM, and engaged more in social media to speak of some things, like the incoming naval cooperation with the south.
As such, these alarming news put the cabinet in worry. Their internal affairs secretary had just reported all the incidents relating or possibly relating to lagjs, with none of them being severe or with ‘massacres’ involved.
Now, they were told that one of the observed ‘churches’ in Chtsté had a major incident in one of their auxiliary branches? The meeting had to be postponed. Yet, as the news showed the pursuit of a large truck, neither armored nor tuned, where the lagjs were seen entering, albeit barely, brutal footage flooded the internet.
This caused upheaval even worldwide. A church started killing presumed lagj, and not just any type of ‘special agents’. It caused concern; how should the world feel when such dangerous organizations face each other like it’s nothing in just any day?
Luis Heartez frowned, looking at the images of the truck fleeing before staring at Roam, “Is the blue bug ready?”
Roam nodded, wearing a stern face. “Yes, sir. Go ahead.”
…