Start In the Fire, Move to the Blood

I just kind of look at them for a moment, after kicking open the doors and waltzing in like some kind of B-movie asshole. I hold out my left arm, hand forming the horns of rock and roll, and the beam sword lands in my other hand. It turns on with one flick of the switch and the backside generator scales up and then allows the beam of energy form between its tip and the hilt. They gawk for a moment and everyone suddenly realizes just what the hell is going on.

Smoke, fire, burning flesh. Nothing too new, but kind of new. Smoke and fire were pretty familiar to me. Burning flesh was a little new. The first guy tries to shotgun me up close. The first swipe leaves him without an arm, the next he's missing his head. Poor boy. They're all shouting at me like I did something wrong, then again, fuck yeah I did. The entire lobby was on fire and god knows I'm the one who started it. "Alright you bunch of brain addled pissmongers… take me to your leader."

Another one jumps, sword overhead. Downward slash. Bad move. He's bisected with one hard sideways slash. Blood everywhere. Couldn't care less. "I'll take that as a 'we're fucking retarded you run around the place until we're all dead herp derp.' And I must say… that's a damn good idea."

Soundtrack: Get Free by the Vines

Two to the left, handguns, one to the right, normal sword. Cakewalk. One kick to the gut knocks fuckoff one into fuckoff two while Johnny Slashyahup takes a diagonal swipe which the beam blocks. A kick to the groin makes him stagger, a slash to the neck makes him dead. "Train harder for the next life asshole." Fuckoff one is trying to get up, the beam plunged into his skull stops that. Fuckoff two starts shooting from the ground. The beam blocks the shots and then cuts of f his gun hand, and then cuts out his neck. "Easy come easy dead." Done.

I ignore the blood but pocket the cash that comes out of goons and make a break into the most obvious door in the front, which was also the only door yet to catch fire. I can hear them scrambling around on the other side like they're ready for World War III. Might as well live up to their expectations. I kick in the door and suddenly find myself being pointed at by a bunch of lovely, deadly shotguns. Christ in a hand basket. "One last chance doucefucks. Take me to this Highroller guy and you get to see tomorrow." And then the shooting starts.

The beam blocks the first round of bullets, arms moving faster than they should. The first jackoff gets his stomach ripped through, his buddy next to him gets a punch to the face. Tossing the sword into the fucker farthest away takes out most of his face and pins him to the wall. "Chow down." Not the best idea, the idiot with the now bleeding face readies to fire. Sweep kick actually trips him. I wonder how long it took to hollow out this place. The drop kick snaps his neck it seems. Might as well do it twice to be sure.

With the sword back in my hands I make my way down the next path and search around, looting some of the places storage chests. Archaic way of holding your precious LBs but goddamn if it doesn't make it easier for me. After the quick looting session I make it to what are a giant pair of doors. I guess this is where Highroller stations his pretentious sounding ass. For a dude with the name of Highroller he has one shitty mountain hidden hideout.

I kick open the door and-

Soundtrack end

-and I take back my previous statement. It's a whole fortress complex housing what looks like a bomb the size of my apartment complex. This is total bullshit.

Small Frame, Not-So-Small Gun

I hear a small , high, nasally voice from far off into the giant hanger.

"why hello there. you must be him."

"I'm not sure what you're referring to."

"don't play dumb with me, child. you are him, the one that i set this entire lovely situation up for. hello hello."

"Yeah hey. So are you him? Highroller?"

"oh yes. oh yesssssssssssssssssssss. i am highroller, pleased to meet you… mister…?"

"Afterburner. Adam Afterburner. Yeah I guess we have to fight?"

"that would be correct, yes. do you know what this is?"

"What is what?"

"what i am sitting on top of."

Soundtrack: Organizixed by Powerman 5000

I start actually scoping the place out and quickly see what he's babbling about. The idiot is sitting on the bomb. He's in a wheelchair from what I can see with… oh my god. That's a big gun. He has a wheelchair mounted gun of 'you're so fucking dead'. He's got some stupid pimp getup on and what looks like a giant pimp hat. Or a sombrero. Either or. "Any reason why you're sitting on that rather horribly large explosive, grandpa?"

"why yes there is."

"Which is?"

"strategy."

"Excus- shit!" Jump out of the way before the bullet hits ground. The bang was loud enough, dammit. "Holy living fuck!"

"i don't plan on dying here, mr. afterburner. furthermore if you get too close i know you'll win. but i'd rather have us both die than just me. so if you get too close, i shoot the bomb. everything goes up flames."

"You're crazier than Jack Chick at a fucking mass! What in the hell do you hope to accomplish?"

"i was going to ask you the same thing."

"I'm going to reach number one no matter what happens you liver spotted cockmonger." I ready the beam sword and tighten my grip on the hilt. "Give me your best shot."

"will do number twenty two."

Suddenly the wheelchair's wheels rise up. It's like some retarded silt wheelchair thing. And he has what amounts to a long range cannon on it. Shit. Ready for the next shot, start running. Hustle you fuck. He keeps shooting, the shells landing farther and farther away. Too fast for h- oh shit he's firing in front, have to stop. Now! Oh god The bastard is a looney! How do I even get near him? this is bad. Got to find something Oh! Oh! A throwing spot. A good throwing spot. Take out the cannon then fuck him u- god that one was close.

Keep moving, don't stall, don't worry about the burning in your lungs. Just keep running. Avoid the pitfalls now, shit a ladder, head to i- guards. Seriously who the in the utter living rank filled hell places guards in a veritable firing zone! Small gun fire. Blocking is easy. The first one suddenly has a splitting headache, the second decides to give his friend a hand, two even. Then he just.. up and loses his head. The third slashes around wildly. One block then two cuts deep into the chest. He falls down and he's not moving. Good eno- The ladder… oh right. Climb up and ju- son of a bitch that one almost hit.

"Your aim is shit!"

"much like your mother's pleasure hole."

"Fuck you, you senile piece of fuckcake!" Stand up… aim… fuck! He's aiming for the bomb! There! The sword flies and… right in his trigger arm.

"you insolent pup! you loudmouthed brute!"

"Sir I have not yet begun to be a brute!" I slide down the ladder and run over to the bomb, what if he recovers and pulls out a dick move? I run up the steps to the top, which are side-by-side with the wheelchair ramp. "Alright Highroller just give up and accept your de- fucking hell!" Jump back, don't fall, avoid the knife swipe. How is he still so spry? Grab the beam sword hilt, fuck fuck fuck oh my god that hurt what kind of asshole even does that besides me don't twist that shit pain in the chest, bleeding. No, pull damn it! There, the sword is out and it tore off most of that ratfucker's arm with it fuck fuck will he stop trying to stab me? Cut at him, first swipe catches his hand, removing several fingers and the knife. Arc the swing overhead and come down… the sword pierces his chest and goes through his chair.

Soundtrack end

He starts coughing up blood and tries to talk. He's drowning in his own blood and bullshit.

"i… i wanted to go out in style. i've spent my whole life living it to the extents that money could buy." Then one huge coughing fit. "i had women, violence, drugs… i needed to die like i lived. in a bang or not at all."

"Well too fucking bad Jethro. You die the way all douchebags should. Old, alone, and with a blazing sword of righteous 'go to Hell" right through your black heart. See you on the Otherside, fuckwit." The sword rise through his body, cutting it nearly in half. Blood everywhere, better step back.

I walk down to ground and turn off the sword. And then she shows up. "Hello there Ms. Blair."

Loral Blair: five foot five of some holy mix of nerd and tough bitch. She wears a suit, like a man's business suit, normal glasses, the sexy kind, and short, brown hair.

Don't dweeb out, Afterburner. Don't. Goggles off now. Have your "FUCK OFF" shirt nice and presented. And remember to wear a coat next time, stupid.

"Why hello, Adam. It seems you've won your match." She motions for her two goons, Boyd and Marty, to go and clean up what's left of Highroller. "As of now you are ranked the twenty first best assassin in the UAA."

"Cool." The United Assassin Association, some kind of underground assassin hustle group. Every assassin worth his shit is ranked there. Now I'm twenty first… a long way to the top. "So what now?"

"Now? Well, my little killing machine, you can go home until we're ready for you again."

"Downtime, fine, I'm cool with that." I nod, trying to act like some suave asshat. I walk past her and deicide I'll try something more direct when I crack the top twenty. I trek out of the stupid compound, get in my car, looking at the van I stole and drove through the wall as I do it. The engine turns on with a purr. I go home and give Highroller the bird… wherever he is.

Something Amiss

The apartment air welcomes me and tells me I did a good job. Or something. I lay down on the bed and Mara curls up next to me like a good dog. The ceiling looks so alone. I might put up a Batman poster there one of these days. I'll leave it bare for right now.

My cellphone goes off while I'm zoning out, I listen to the shitty ringtone I need to change for a moment before answering it. "Hello?"

"Hey dude!"

"Hey Deacon."

"I saw you pass by the shop, man! What's up, where the hell did you even go?"

"I went to go kill some hundred year old fuck that was touting around a wheelchair cannon and a bomb the size of Zap Comics."

"Motherfuck dude! Your life is so insane! You're like a real superhero or some shit!"

"Nah, I'm no hero. I don't have the guts for it. Sometimes I wonder if anyone does."

"What chu getting at bro?"

"What I'm saying is that… sometimes I think there's… I just think that there's…" I pause for the dramatic title drop.

"No More Heroes."