A/N: Sigh...well my hype for continuing is slowly dying. Nevertheless, i shall continue :)
Ten days as passed since the murder. Narissa was slowly recuperating at Andrew's when the headlines exploded with the news of the return of the Tarot killer. Apparently, the victim had to be a cop's daughter to get all riled up. According to channel 8, the poor little thing was hanged naked on the old Sunlight statue with the devil card on her forehead.
Meanwhile, Andrew was gearing up for the manhunt of the Tarot killer. Justice could only be served by the people. He was ready to do 'illegal acts' for some urban justice. He armed himself with his father's Bowie knife and his trusty .44 magnum… it was rather outdated in comparison to the modern firearms but he decided to keep it nonetheless.
"Bullet…" Narissa faintly called him from the living room" Don't put yourself to danger… I don't wanna lose you."
"It has to be done. Chester must be punished." Andrew answered grimly. He covered his face with the hood of his jacket along with a black scarf. The rest of his clothes were black and dim exposing very little of his true identity. Andrew left the apartment afterwards, there was nothing more to be said.
His main plan was to go to Old Londo. There must be any sort of information or clue about the Marvelous Chester. First, he had to stock up with bullets…and he knew just the place…
Andre's gun shop was at the far side of the Burg district in a secluded area. Andre was an old school man with old school weaponry unlike other gun shops. If Andrew was looking for proper ammo, it had to be there.
Andrew was fascinated by the weapons at the stand before even entering the shop; old brush guns, revolvers and bolt-action sniper rifles. the gun shop itself was perhaps older than Andre himself as cracks ran rampart through the walls. Inside, he was met by a wide grin "Greetings, youngster, what can I do for you?"
"I am looking for some ammo for a magnum , .44" replied Andrew politely. The old man looked to his right for the ammo but instead there were an empty box. Andre grunted "One second."
A Minute later, Andre came back with two ammo boxes, one was red while the other was black "Ran out regulars, there is Hellfire and Widow bullets if you like."
"Hellfire? Widow? " Andre was taken aback for a second. He frowned before explaining " Both are Manity infused, the Hellfire bullets can light you up while the Widow can miss you up real quick."
Manity. Andrew hated this plight from the deepest part of his heart. Yet, Seeing no other option, he had settled with one of them " Twenty four 'Hellfire', please."
Despite the Vespa's small gas tank, it needed a refill after going back and forth in the Burg district. He filled his stomach with a large sized meal from Alvina's fried mushroom before heading to Old Londo. The moment he stepped in Ingward's home, fog enshrouded the whole place. Ruined building started to appear the further he delved into this ghost district. People were scarce around him or perhaps he wasn't looking enough.
In the single road he was taking, laid a towering beast of a man. He had a terrifying sawed off shotgun in one hand while the other was deformed from the excessive usage of Manity. "Purpose of visit?"
Andrew gulped "Grey market, I need some information about-"
"Five large."
"WHAT?!"
"Look, Pal, you can pay the reds to ensure your safety or everything on you will be stripped." The Manity addict pointed at the junkies and the homeless sulking behind the ruins waiting to strike "Pay up a grand if you wanna head back safety."
Andrew checked his wallet. He was a little over a five hundred "How about a trade? This Vespa must worth something, right?"
The brute inspected the ride for a couple of minutes assessing its true value "That should cover up the expenses, welcome to Old Londo!"
Perhaps the grey market was one of Lordran's hidden wonders; dozens of stands were erected around what seemed to be an opera house. Anything imaginable was sold or traded there from bizarre fetish Prono tapes to classified stolen documents from the government.
Andrew Wandered aimlessly for an hour in the midst of the market. One stand in particular caught his attention. It was ' ' trove of treasures'. Lots of odds and ends were at his stand. was a bald man in a cheap suit with a crooked noose and a sham of a smile "Good day, mate, What can I do for ya?"
"Information, I need some." Andrew whispered for some reason.
"Alright, I can help you with that; trusty Patches have eyes and ears everywhere heeheheh!" his laughter was a bit annoying. Andrew whispered more "The Tarot Killer."
Patches became more serious "The Tarot killer?"
"Yes."
"Oy, that's some serious business, Bruv." Patches stroke his chin "That will be fifty fishes."
Again with the crazy prices "What?! What a load of bull!" Andrew deliberately turned his back and walked away. He knew that this slimy bastard would do anything for a customer "Wait! Perhaps we ought to … negotiate ?"
Andrew didn't go to The Blight before. Patches was driving a shitty old car with Andrew at the front seat "So you want me to fight in the Pitt in Blight? Where everything goes?"
"Yes, you beat the champ of the Pitt and Boom! Seventy five reds to win! I get my fifty and you can keep your twenty five." Patches focused on the unpaved (and bumpy ) road ahead. Old Londo was a fucking haven when compared to The blight. It was once a fertile farm field till the land died out. None know whether this Blight oozing from the land was an act of nature or an act of man. Nevertheless, The place became a wasteland.
Half an hour later, they reached their destination. The cheers of the crowd already indicated a fight going on. The place itself was a modified farmhouse (to fit more audiences). The stench of death and decay already reeked from this place. Bloodstains, Bloated body parts and empty syringes were virtually everywhere. Andrew's morale was shaken a little bit.
Patches guided Andrew to a small dressing room at the backstage. Inside, a black woman was pumping her vein with a regular Manity syringe. "Trish! Prepare our new fighter here, will you?"
"Sure thing, Mr. T" said Trish whilst enjoying the sweet Manity in her blood stream. Patches patted on Andrew's shoulder " Good luck, Bruv, See you on the other side!"
Patches left the room with haste. Andrew was pretty sure Patches was hiding something. Nevertheless, he had to push on. Trish inspected Andrew from the front and the back "Take off your clothes."
"Excuse me?"
"You ain't gonna fight the maneater in your fancy clothes…makes it easier for Mildred to rip your dick off." Her words troubled him greatly; Maneater? Dicks?
He undressed with discomfort. He could see the anticipation in Trish's eyes when he took off his pants "I would have a piece of that. Take off that scarf, pretty boy."
"The scarf stays." Andrew insisted.
"Alright, Hot shot, whateva." She brought him a tight boxer from the wardrobe. It was painfully yellow with the word Jeremiah on it. it fit rather perfectly despite the constant itch in the groin area.
"Pick up a weapon." Trish opened another wardrobe containing a respectable array of white weapons and firearms.
"No thanks, I will stick with my bowie knife and my .44." his answer made Trish laughs so hard "Oh man, She is gonna rape you so hard!"
Seconds later, a man in a checkered suit entered the dressing room "Hey, Trish, is the contender ready? Maneater had already finished off the last one."
"Ready as ever, Boss."
"Good, you, come with me." the checkered man demanded. Andrew went with the man through dirty hallways. He asked Andrew some questions "Gimme a name, place or anything interesting."
"Andr- The vigilante."
"That sounds interesting, go on."
"Burg district. I am a bit fast on my feet. That's all I suppose."
"This will do, hang on." the checkered man left Andrew outside of the arena. He grabbed a microphone and started to announce the following "Bitches and Gentlefucks, Are you ready for some REAL fightin' ?!"
The crowd cheered and roared "Good, 'cause we have a contestant from the Burg! Holla if you are from the neighborhood!" the roar was less vibrant.
"He's fast, He's furious….give it up for the one and only the Vigilante!" Andrew slowly stepped into the arena. He didn't mind the roaring crowd. What terrified him was the beast in the middle of the arena.
Mildred was at least thrice his size, he could outline some real muscle behind all the fat. The maneater was naked as well with only a chain of dried dicks around her neck and a sack that covered most of her face except her malformed maw. She was already munching the arm of what Andrew assumed to be the late contender.
Mildred slowly stood up with a large butcher knife in her hand. She grinned "Fresh meat!"
"Fight!" said the checkered man before getting the fuck out of the arena. Despite her overweightness, Mildred charged towards him with an insane speed. Andrew ducked away at the last moment from the butcher knife before slicing the right side of the cannibal. Too bad she was too fat that the knife got stuck in-between the infinite layers of Lard.
"Little man lost his toy, Hahaha!" Mildred howled like a crazed hyena. Andrew had to pull out his dad's gun. He fired three shots at her chest. The Hellfire bullets ignited upon contact. It didn't seem to hit any vital organ. Furthermore, the inflicted wound was closing upon Andrew's very own eyes.
"She's on White Manity, You twat!" Patches shouted out loud from a front seat. If only Andrew would get to that trickster….
Mildred was a slow cow with low stamina and a butcher knife. Andrew started to strafe Mildred slowly eating up her little stamina. Every now and then he would fire a bullet to see whether the regenerative ability of the White Manity had worn off.
Despite the success of his strategy, the crowd wasn't so pleased with the show. The checkered man pulled a lever behind the scenes. The arena became tighter with spikes erecting from the ground. It forced Andrew to close the distance.
"Little man has no place to run! Dinner time!" Instead of the usual slow swipes, Mildred jumped over Andrew. He didn't have enough time to react as she squashed him with the weight of her body. She started to lick his face seductively; her malformed teeth scraped his skin. The crowd kept shouting "RAPE HIM! RAPE HIM! RAPE HIM!"
Andrew was stiffed and terrified. He froze in fear as she was starting to take off that Jeremiah Boxer. Perhaps it was a miracle to find the stuck bowie knife. The will to survive rushed in his veins once more. While the Maneater was busy with his boxer, Andrew yanked the knife and jabbed the woman's neck.
Blood started to spill violently. The wound tried to close itself but Andrew's quick succession of jabs surpassed the regenerative effect of the white Manity. Andrew had the choice of stopping…Mildred was already begging for her life in-between the gushes but something inside urged him to kill the shit out of her.
The crowd was in utter silence as the Pitt fighter champion was killed…even Patches couldn't believe that a scrawny young man could outbest that terror. Andrew rolled her bloody corpse away before standing up. Patches was the first clapper amongst the crowd. Slowly, they started to clap and cheer for their new champion.
Andrew had a hard accepting what he had done. His father would have probably thrown him in jail. After all, his main goal was to kill the Chester. He needed to be mentally prepared for this. He thought about it while showering after the fight.
The checkered man awaited Andrew right at the door. He was quite stressed; after all, he had lost his best fighter. Andrew covered his face with an extra towel "Congratulations! You had earned your reds. " The checkered man stopped for a quick smoke "You know, Mildred had it comin'…Besides, people need something fresh and new. I bet you will fit right at her shoes."
"I appreciate your offer but I have other… goals to pursue." Andrew Politely refused.
"I understand. Here is your share." The man left Andrew with a briefcase. It was brimmed with thousands of reds. Patches swooped in moments later "Heyhey, Bruv! I knew you would send that fat fuck back to the morgue. Lemme see the goodies!"
Patches was more excited about the money more than Andrew himself. He took his fifty stacks with great content. "Hey , Patches, aren't you forgetting something?"
"Hm? Oh yes! I got overwhelmed, see? Your guy's outfit is based on the Baron Chesteron de Ceil one of the founding fathers of Lordran." Andrew lost his temper " I didn't pay you this amount of cash to tell me something I don't need to know!"
"B-but you do need to, mate. The Baron's outfit was manufactured in the Peculiar doll factory."
"That old closed factory in the Burg?" Andrew partially forgave Patches. He was getting somewhere.
"That's right. I got two tips for ya: Elizabeth had purchased the right the manufacture Chester's outfit for the eight hundredth anniversary for the construction of the Lordran district…Perhaps the Killer got his hands on some of the goodies?"
"And the other tip?" Andrew inquired.
"His tarot cards are old…really old. i bet Domhnall knows something. You know where is pawn shop , right?"
"Three block away from the burg's AFM. Got it." such information made Andrew a bit suspicious. How on earth he knew all of these?
"All's good, mate?"
"Yeah…Thanks, Patches."
It wasn't an easy ride back home. Andrew had to squeeze into one of those 'special' buses that went from the Pitt to the Burg. He paid half a grand to get in but considering that he had just earned twenty five thousands, it was alright so to speak.
At the back of the bus, there was a free seat. Andrew squeezed himself towards the seat when a woman in red stopped him "We bought two seats. It is not vacant. Go away."
Her hat was awfully large with pieces of cloth veiling her true face and yet her voice seemed to be so familiar…
"A-are you….Are you Sally Ryan? From channel 8?"
"Fuck fuck fuck!" She whispered "Look, we may look like one of them fucktards news reporters but we are not…Sally likes it though. Dust likes bloodshed, gore and blood in general. We agreed on having two lives and are not going to tell a soul about it!"
Andrew considered his words (especially with a person with a double personality disorder. "Let Sally remember my name: The vigilante. And you, Dust, you owe me one. I will keep my mouth shut for the time being. "
Sally, or rather Dust, smiled beneath her hat "You have my word. Go away now. We need to be alone." Andrew retreated back to the middle of the bus.
Today was a good day.
Andrew crawled back to his apartment at three or four AM. Narissa snored lightly from his bedroom. He threw his gun and bowie knife on the dinner table before crashing into his couch. He earned his rest today.
