Constant rain had rendered the trail almost impassible, the mud trying its hardest to suck their boots deeper into the soil. Billy pressed onwards, the squads movements parting the mud as their footsteps intertwined. Hot, sticky heat barreled down upon them. Humidity being nature's secondary weapon, mosquitos being its first, both completely lethal. Their objective was to investigate a native village built against the side of a small mountain that the natives often considered to be holy. Once a month, natives would herd up a small selection of their best cattle and guide them up a series of stone steps to cull them. They would paint the massive stone walls with the blood of the recently slayed creatures into murals dictating the deaths of gods. With only varying shades of red applied at different times to allow the colors to fade and compliment each other. The process would take days and a series of shoddy scaffolding that often led to a variety of horrible accidents. Out of all of these accidents, the death of Windu stood out. Tripping and falling off the edge, everyone around him was betting that due to the way that bamboo went right up his asshole, he must've had experience with many types of wood up there. Rest in peace.
They wished for the resurrection of the gods, for the return of order and unity to the world but they all knew they'd never get it. The process awarded them hope, and pleasant thoughts of a time long past and that enough was a reason to keep the tradition going. When the squad arrived, they had become caked in layers of mud and exhausted from the journey. The natives all eyed the men with with a mix of fear and contempt. The last time they were approached by foreign men the village elder prolapsed.
"Magnum, Czar, Ten-fold, time for some police action bullshit, search and clear and don't get too rough with the ladies. We get paid for every catch so if you can bag them for the slightest offense do it, makes my wallet fatter just like my dick and I'll appreciate it." Lieutenant Mold stopped by some children cowering near a small chicken pen, he pulled a pack of cigarettes from the band on his helmet. He pulled three cigarettes from the pack and held them between three of his knuckles. "Hey kiddies, any of you try one? I know you want one, little girl, come here and put this in your mouth. Where's your mother because I want to put something in her mouth too." He gripped the small child by the arm and smirked when she let out a yelp of pain. He forced her jaw open and inserted a cigarette between her lips. He pulled a fake magic trick and pulled a zippo out from behind his ear and with one swift moment flipped it and lit it.
"Hold that smoke in, savor that american flavor. Your mom will." He lit the cigarette and repeated the process with the two others.
Magnum searched a few huts, flipping beds and tearing up floors in search for any contraband. They found fuck all like usual, Czar got bored and lined up a few civilians against a wall. "Ten, ten my nigga come here."
Ten-fold appeared from a hut holding a series of jewelry clutched in his fist. "What?"
Czar took a long drag from his cigarette and blew a hot blast of smoke in an elderly woman's face. "Which one of these chink faggots looks like they'd bleed the most?" His Pittsburgh accent coupled with the cigarette between his teeth made his speech almost incomprehensible. Czar passed his cigarette to Ten-fold, who smoked it down to the butt in one drag and flicked it to the floor, the last dying embers crushed beneath his boot. He released the smoke slowly, and pointed towards a frail man who appeared to be in his mid thirties. Czar unbuttoned his shirt revealing a pair of brass knuckles on a chain. He tugged down and the necklace automatically unclasped itself. As soon as he saw the knuckles slide onto his hand, the man attempted to make a break for it but was caught by the back of his shirt collar. The beating that followed was severe.
Billy snuck his way up the stairs of the mountains. The massive murals stained the stone over generations, making it a constant crimson coupled with a series of complex designs. The designs were intricate, depicting massive battles, gods bleeding rivers and locked in brutal combat. He had to stop for a moment to appreciate it. He finally completed his ascension to the top of the mountain, the heat and increased altitude taking its toll on his muscles. Once inside he discovered the pure expanse of the temple that topped the mountain. Carved from the stone, completed with a series of pillars coupled with precisely flattened stone walls that could only be done using technology beyond the time of construction. Inside the temple was darkness and the scent of stale air. He snapped open a flare and was met with a wide open expanse within the temple, within the shadows the light didn't reach the walls. Then he took a few steps further and spotted a massive statue. A titanic idol isolated within the shadows resembling a lanky figure hunched, legs folded and his thin arms resting on his knees. His chest was featureless except for a pendant, resembling the sun or a large flower. It's face almost void of any definitive features. It's unsettling simplicity coupled with the suffocating darkness created a feeling of constant loneliness.
He explored the vast expanse of the chamber and exited with a knapsack full of artifacts. A series of phallus shaped figures carved from rhino horn, a vase full of mysterious white powder, and a series of runes with a long dead language dotting them. He descended the steps and was met by an elderly man so old that a rogue gust of wind would scatter him into dust. The dude was old as fuck. He could smuggle drugs through an airport via his skin flaps, dotted with liver spots that could be transplanted.
"Those do not belong to you! These artifacts are part of our culture, you cannot steal them!"
Magnum turned around, he rummaged through his pockets and pouches awkwardly with one hand in an effort to find his wallet. He finally found it and held it next to his head. "I have money, how much do you want?"
The Tribal Leader spit at his feet, "You cannot buy my culture."
Czar lit up another cigarette and leaned over towards Ten-fold and began mocking the man just loud enough for him to hear.
"You lowai fuck my daughter and rape my dog! I was going to fuck dog! Then cook it! Daughter too! Now what we use to paint murals! More cow? All cow dead! You fuck cow too! Fuckayoo! FUCKAYOO!" Czar and Ten-fold chuckled to each other, the villagers stood dazed and frightened. One man stood tense, his muscles imposed in fury only to be pulled back by several other men. Ten-fold noticed and fired a single round at the dirt in front of them, each man jumped backwards and nearly fell through the wall of a hut.
Magnum and man stood face to face, inches from each other. The man slapped the wallet out of Magnum's hand, and Magnum stood speechless. The man's head exploded, his flesh splattered across Magnum's face. Magnum felt the warmth of the corpse's flesh coupled with fire, standing horrified as he felt the acidic sensation of vomit slithering up his throat. He forced it back down. Magnum spun around to see Lieutenant Mold bent over, picking up the spent cartridge. He flicked the cartridge at Magnum and he instinctively caught it.
"Why? Why would you just shoot him like that, this isn't right. This just isn't fucking right Mold."
Lieutenant Mold skipped backwards and shot his arm forward, and his Zippo lighter slid out of his sleeve. He flicked it open, and held the open flame to the tops of bamboo huts. The flames caught quick and devoured the structure within minutes. The other men joined in.
"Billy you need to realise something, we're just a bunch of licensed thugs that they threw fucking money at. We're not even corporate whores like PMC contractors, we're free spirited douche bags sent overseas with a license to kill and I intend to use that at liberty. We can walk into a village, rape their children, family, animals, slaughter their fucking livestock and burn their homes into ash and still get. FUCKING. PAID. Paid in legit money moo-dollars." The fire grew, it's orange appendages licking inches from Lieutenant Mold's fatigues, yet he stood, still as a stone.
"If that isn't the most fucking radical job description you've heard in your entire life then you need to get your cunt turned into a proper wank-stick son. Say it with me now, best job you, and the whole lot of us, will ever have."
Magnum forced his lips to form the words. "Best job I will ever have."
"Ooh, oooohh I feel something coming, something's gonna blow!" Lieutenant Mold unleashed a massive fart, the fires stoked from the sudden blast of methane and the heat expanded. He pulled his ass back, lunging his hips forward and began spinning around. He transferred his movements into a pseudo-hula dance. He slapped the last dying flame off of his pants and hollered in synchronicity with Ten-fold and Czar. Their cackles drowned out the crackling of flames and the screams of fleeing villagers.
Billy awoke, soaked with sweat. His chest pained him more than a shotgun blast. He took a series of rapid breaths and sat up in his bed. He would have not liked to remember them, that group of long-deceased scumbags. Rays of light so fine they were like the cords of a harp rushed through the window, emphasizing the warm tastes of the bedroom. It was of a very typical layout. Smooth walls of oak painted over with a creamy shade of white, a man-sized mirror with bronze guildings, a lamp that was softly luminous mounted upon a grainy nightstand, a closet and wardrobe filled with a mage's sort of garments, and lastly a personal bathroom that opened to the right of the bed. He turned to the windowsill, where a trio of Sparrows sat staring in his direction. "Hey."
With that, the centermost sparrow unleashed a great tsunami of putrid, pearl white, non-newtonian shit that piled upon the windowsill with the viscosity of yogurt. Flopping down to the ground in great blobs, the semi-solid essence of pestilence unleashed a miasma that smelled deeply of carrion. The mass was so colossal that it climbed up halfway to the top of the closed window. "Punk motherfucka." The middle Sparrow said as its trio flew off into the horizon, leaving their ass-tastic pile of traumatization on the sill to drip onto the floor like a melting ice-cream cone.
"Love you guys too."
Magnum, deeply groggy, limped over to the bathroom and promptly tripped into the shower stall and bashed his head against the white tiling. A miniscule crack formed in the stall's wall, an event mirrored by Magnum's skull. With a shuddering groan, Billy Magnum attempted to stand again, but the semi-slippery surface of the shower would have none of it. Instead, Magnum's feet established a perfect position upon the surface of the stall for the layer of slime to slide against his feet. In the few milliseconds he had before he was airborne, Billy Magnum pushed against the shower surface in an attempt to stop himself. Instead, the force of the push launched him backwards across the bathroom and crashed him into the mirror above the sink. With shards of glass lodged in the back of his head, Magnum sought out a first-aid kit and a stiff drink.
Ruby droplets stained Magnum's trail as he journeyed, unwashed, into a sizeable lounge. The room was sectioned off into four areas: to Magnum's immediate right, a living room with a large flatscreen and several black leather sofas; to his immediate left, a medium-sized kitchen sectioned off once more by an understocked bar further east; and finally, further right to Magnum, two massive sliding glass doors in place of a wall, leading to a balcony overlooking the lagoon.
Resisting a deep urge to pull the glass shards out by hand, Magnum propelled his body forward in panicked motions to the grayed stone countertops of the kitchen. Ripping through the cabinets, Billy's spirit soared to unprecedented heights as he gripped his savior: a red first-aid kit. Allowing no time for thought, Magnum hysterically pulled shard after shard from his skull with a pair of tweezers. With eyes full of tears, Magnum produced a canister of bio-foam from the kit, a mixture of stem cells, proteins, and various activating enzymes. Magnum dug the thin nozzle of the canister into each of his wounds, overflowing each gash with the organic froth. Finally, with the pain dulled and the openings sealed, Magnum walked through the bar's door and grabbed a bottle of aged brandy from the shelves. Then he revealed a slightly dirty shot glass from beneath the bar's counter and poured liberally.
Magnum sank a glass of brandy and eyed his pet Hedgehog, Critical, scurrying across the floor.
"Hey Crit buddy."
"Your nipples remind me of the Taj Mahal, kill yourself." It continued to scurry into the next room.
"Thanks." Billy topped his glass off and downed another. He sat up and forced his muscles to cooperate, dragging his feet to the fridge to grab something to eat. Much to his dismay it was empty, he slowly shut the door and saw the sticky notes he had left over the course of four days.
Food's out get more
You stupid fuck get food
Lord Gilgamesh above remember food
You're going to fucking starve here
"Oh."
Billy suddenly felt like he was being watched and turned to see Naruto sitting on a stool at the bar, his expression as dull and tired as Billy's. "You uh, want some Coffee?" Naruto opened his jaw as to say yes but instead let it hang, releasing an extended yawn. He nodded instead. Billy began brewing a pot, pulling a vial of mana and letting a few miniscule droplet fall into the beans and soak within them.
"Are you putting magic shit in the coffee?"
"Yes, trust me."
They sat there as the coffee brewed, noticing that the fluid dripping into the pot reflected the light around it, radiating a plethora of colors before fading out into it's default black. When Billy went to pour the two mugs, a sweet scent bombarded Naruto's nostrils. He felt a buzz, more intense than coffee could ever provide. As Billy sat taking large gulps, almost completely unfazed by the scalding hot temperatures, he maintained eye contact with Naruto. Naruto took a sip, the flavor an equal mix bitter with a touch of citrus. Then he felt it. His heart began pumping at excessive rates, his skin broke into goose bumps and his breath cut. He felt the pressure in his lungs, the stale air pushing at the walls in an attempt to escape and Naruto granted them their wish, letting out an extended exhale. He felt his neurons process time at an odd rate, Billy seemed completely unaffected by the substance. "The fuck is in this?"
"My special concoction. It provides much needed stimulation to get you going in the morning. I, for one, can't live without it."
Naruto began to feel sick, the knot that had been in his stomach since he got here had been replaced with queasyness. In an attempt to find a restroom he blindly wandered down the maze of interlocking corridors. The hallways being identical, resulting in confusion in his travels. He continued his blind journey, and eventually gave up. He hunched up against a wall, his arms outstretched and his neck craned to the floor. The way that vomit fucking launched out, he could have broken the land speed record with his bile. He grunted, arm wrapped around his midsection. He realised that his grunt echoed yet the acoustics of the structure did not allow it to echo as much as it did. Once more the grunt was heard, yet he had stopped. The sound was coming from the vents. He continued down the hall to find a spiral staircase leading down into some dark forgotten sub-section of the base.
"There is no logical reason for me to descend down into the dark to investigate a strange noise alone." He whispered to himself. He leaned over the railing. "I'm high as all fuck right now."
He felt his palms slip, and instead of leaning back to avoid falling over, he leaned forward in a sudden brain fart and ended up falling over the railing itself. His fall was short, his back slamming hard into the cement below. If it weren't for how high he felt, the pure amount of shock would have kept him writhing in pain. He was able to push himself up, as soon as he erected himself he was face to face with a bearded head inches from his own. Before he was able to scream a hand was cupped over his mouth coupled with a powerful blow to his solar plexus. He hunched over and was struck on the side of his head. Still partially conscious, he was drug down the hall into the dark.
Naruto awoke in darkness once again. His attempts at movement futile, his breath constricted due to something tightly wrapped around his chest. Then within the blackness came a single amber spark. The singular spark's friends lit up as well, a jagged line of light slicing through the dark, intersecting with others of different tones and shades until the the walls and roof were covered with a medley of mixed neon colors. Within the center of the room was a pile of trash-bags, piled on top of each other to form a pseudo-throne wrapped with christmas lights for illumination. Naruto looked down at himself, he was bound with wires and wrapped with a trash bag that was duck-taped around his throat. The only movement he could manage was rolling. A bright ray of white light assaulted his vision, and then let off its vicious attack to allow Naruto to witness the perpetrator. At the top of the pile sat the bearded man. He was old, his grey mane and unkempt hair matted from years and years of neglect. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it, resting his chin on his fist to examine Naruto. "You look like a hipster dived head first into a swimming pool full of hair-gel. Seriously now with that spiky shit, you trying to go for weapons charges with hair like that?"
Naruto responded, "Fucking hell you stink."
The Hobo wound up a loogie and spat it onto the bag naruto was trapped within. "Kid you're in the middle of a hundred fucking trash bags. Everything stinks."
"No no, these trash bags are fucking roses compared to that miasma you're whipping up."
"I will fucking compact you."
Naruto rolled a bit, struggling some more before giving up and letting his head plop down on a trash bag behind him. "What the fuck do you want with me grey-beard. Is your old ass here to toy with me or is there something more constructive behind kidnapping me?"
The hobo lifted himself from his throne of filth and hopped from bag to bag until he was down on the ground. He stepped over Naruto and sat on his chest. "I've lived down here for six years and you're the first audacious little bastard to sneak down into the depths. I really should just shove you in the compactor and crush your pathetic self into a goddamn meat cube but I don't have that strong of a stomach and the screams would give me away. So instead I'll probably just cut you." He reached into the pocket of his bath robe and flicked the blade out of his folding buck knife. Naruto squirmed, imminent death approaching him, he realised there was nothing he could do and closed his eyes. Expecting his throat to be slit, the bag was instead cut open. The blade tore through the plastic and then proceeded to saw through the wire, coming inches from cutting his stomach open. Naruto didn't know how to feel. The hobo stood himself up and pulled a bag up to sit on. "Expect me to off you?"
Naruto pulled a bag up too. "Frankly, yes." Naruto scratched his nose and settled himself in his makeshift Bean-bag. "So, who the fuck are you?"
"I'm the mysterious hobo living in your trash room. It wouldn't be fun to reveal everything about myself right away would it?"
"No, I mean your name."
"Just call me Bum, you?"
"Naruto."
"Well, Naruto, I have a question for you."
"Alright, shoot."
"Would you like to know how to kill people?"
Naruto sat up from the bag, taken back by the sudden statement. "What?"
The hobo erected himself, untying the bath robe and tossing it aside to reveal a mess of scar tissues and ingrown hairs across a muscular chest. "I used to live for the scrap, live for the fight. I've lived down here for so long, itching for a good fight. I've got a possible participant, an equally matched opponent standing a mere five feet from me. Put 'em up."
Naruto threw his jacket aside and put up his guard. "You've asked for this gramps."
Naruto charged forward, flinging himself at the man. He propelled himself into the air, attempting a flying spinning kick into his temple, but Bum countered, catching his leg under his armpit. He twisted his torso and used his opposite arm to grip the back of Naruto's undershirt, tossing him across the room into a pile of trash bags. Once again they clashed, a flurry of blows from Bum's fists absorbed and redirected by Naruto's forearms, leaving him open. Naruto thrusted a single flat palm into the center of his chest and followed with a sweeping kick at his feet. The forward blow coupled with the kick caused him to jump in the air, landing on the top of his head then flopping chest first onto the cold steel floor.
"Not bad."
Bum stood tall, his nose flat and busted. Blood leaked from his compressed nostrils like a broken faucet, he ignored the pain and licked his upper lip. "Missed that taste."
Naruto ducked a swift blow from his opponent, following with a elbow to his ribs. Bum stumbled to the side, and hooked Naruto in the temple, stunning him then cracking his jaw with a strong uppercut. As a brutal finisher, Bum delivered a sternum-shattering side kick to Naruto's chest, once again launching him. He writhed on the floor in pain, unable to breathe. Bum lifted his limp body above his head and punted him to the floor like a football. The audible shattering of his shoulder echoed through the room. Naruto attempted to crawl away with one one arm but only made it a mere few inches before being dragged back by the legs. The old man flipped him over and stood beside him. "You done? Really?"
The Bum laughed and kicked naruto in the cheek. Then he felt it, a tap on his left shoulder. The old experienced street fighter turned around to see Billy cupping a visual distortion in the air, a small sphere resembling the air boiling in his hand. Before he could react Billy thrust the ball into his stomach and blasted him across the room. He flew like he was weightless into the wall behind him, smacking the metal hard enough to knock him unconscious. He bounced off the wall and slammed into the floor with an audible thump lingering in the form of an echo. Billy lifted Naruto up and placed him over his shoulder. "I'm still fucking conscious, Billy."
Billy dropped him, another audible crack was heard even over Naruto's pained scream. "Fuck nevermind pick me up." Billy lifted him like a sock monkey, tossing him back over his shoulder.
"I need to get you out of here. Something is not right with this man."
"How'd you find me?"
"I followed the sound of you getting your ass kicked."
As soon as Billy started running towards the exit, he heard it.
"Not done yet! Come on now Mister Sorcerer, trying to evade a good scrap, that's mighty unjust of you, honor me! Honor your equal opponent!"
Billy puzzled over the probability of someone surviving his attack, yet alone recovering from it so quickly. Something about this man was supernatural, or at least unnatural. There was only one way to probe this man's abilities and that was combat. Once again he dropped Naruto to the floor, Naruto cursing Billy and then rolling away behind a pile of trash. Billy engaged first, creating a thick shield of hardened mana around his skin to compensate for his lackluster hand to hand skills. They engaged in brutal combat, both opponents at an equal stand still during the fight. Five minutes in and Billy could sense his shielding chip, his opponent's fists raw, bloody and malformed from so many blows. With the shield Billy could feel the force behind his blows, bruising him under it. He could imagine how deadly it would have been without his magic precaution.
Billy was forced out of his own headspace by a finished blow to his armor, the bum had charged him down with a football tackle, knocking him to the floor. Billy slid a good two feet, and as he struggled to suck the air that had been stolen from him, he could see Bum approaching. "I'm not taking the risk, this is your last warning, stop or I'll end this."
Bum continued to approach, a smile on his face that almost seemed casual. This was all just fun and games to him.
"I warned you."
Billy drew his HP and gripped it with both his hands, placing his elbows on his knees to steady his aim. He cocked the hammer. Bum slowed his approach and halted when he heard the click. His smile faded. "Shit."
He pulled the trigger, a sudden burst of orange light illuminated a sphere around the two figures for a split second before one fell. He wasn't dead. Billy heard the round ricochet off his skull and ping around the room, witnessing the sparks as it bounced off the steel walls. The bum attempted to stand a few times. His arms gave out thrice under him before he was able to stand tall again, and he was fucking pissed. "Way to violate the sanctity of a good fight with that bullshit. Fighting dirty is one thing, weapons, well that just serves to piss me the fuck off."
Behind the man came a lurking shadow, beefy in stature. Then came the claw. Berenstain appeared from the shadows and delivered a swift swipe across the flesh of Bum's neck. He did not fall, and so the bear did not relent. He slashed his chest, thighs, arms and face. Even then Bum stood his ground, staring Berenstain down. His eye's locked on the fuzzy ball of Stalin-tier blood lust. Berenstain opened his maw, and engulfed Bum's head in his jaws. His clamped down his skull, and Billy could hear the crackling of bone, sinews snapping and skin tearing. Berenstain shook him around with his mouth, a single jerk and the sound of Bum's neck snapping heralded his death. He went limp, lifeless and was spat out onto the floor.
Berenstain helped Billy up, and the two stood over the fresh corpse. "What now. We can't just leave a corpse in the trash room."
The rolled the corpse up in plastic wrap, while walking it up the stairs Billy let his grip slip and dropped the body on his foot. Berenstain jumped when he heard Billy yell and let his grip slip as well. The corpse rolled down the stairs and continued rolling until it fell into the trash compactor. A beep heralded its activation and the gears began to turn, the metal clamps bearing down on the body. "Well shit that's going to be a pain to clean out."
They expected the body to be squished, popped like a grape under a boot. But the gears began to grind, sparks flew through the dark like fireflies. The grinding continued for a good five minutes before the gears gave out and the mechanism failed. The clamps had been bent as they attempted to crush the body.
"Billy, what sort of mutant have we got here?"
"Damned if I know, but I would like to. Let's investigate it, carry it up to the med bay. I need to see what is precisely so special about him."
After many failed attempts, the duo managed to haul the body through the complex to the medical bay. The ceiling rose low above the facility in an oval curve, mounted with flood lights like individual novas leaving no shadow to fester. The floor was a burning white, the white of Purgatory. The walls gave in to a more bluish refraction of light, but lost it as it turned to ceiling. In total, there were thirty beds, all with blue sheets, white pillows, and tan mattress covers. Multiple doors and windows hugged the walls, leading into more familiar rooms expected of a hospital. But one door stood out to Magnum; the morgue.
They both entered the morgue, Magnum's blood vessels immediately constricting. Every exhale was like a smokescreen in the dry, frigid air of the room. Flickering surgical lights hung over a row of grayed steel tables, with assortments of autopsy tools complimenting them on adjacent carts. A lump formed in Magnum's throat from the antioxidants being pumped into the room by a pair of dispersers. Berenstain felt no change in either temperature, or composition of the air. Because he was, after all, a fucking bear. The limp body of the hobo was gently placed, relatively speaking, on the first of the row. The duo existed the morgue and closed the door.
"I'll pick this up tomorrow. Where's Naruto?"
Berenstain displayed a face of severe concern and sprinted out of the medical bay, leaving a baffled Magnum to contemplate the situation. Berenstain zipped around corners, dived down staircases, and at one point literally ran through a wall in a race to recover Naruto. The panting lifeform of condensed fuckrage and indomitable murderlust reentered the garbage disposal room. The wicked, and possibly carcinogenic aroma of pestilent carrion and bacterial cocktails greeted Berenstain's olfactory receptors, which promptly disabled themselves in extreme trauma. With the miasma now unnoticeable, Berenstain sent bag after bag flying across the chamber in his rapid search for Naruto. Finally, with fur caked in unknown fluids, Berenstain locked eyes with Naruto's backside.
Naruto laid face down, drooling on a leaking pile of various junk within a grimy bag that had been gathering filth in the darkness for months. The shock had taken its toll and he was out cold. There he snored, as the flies feasted on the ooze sliding down his face. Berenstain fetched him, slinging him over his shoulder by the leg, his pant leg ripping straight off and his unconscious body soaring through the air and landing face first on the steel floor. The second attempt worked, albeit he still had a broken face.
"Shit."
Whilst Berenstain bent over to pick up naruto's teeth left scattered on the floor, Naruto slid down his back and ended up with his nose planted firmly between the Bear's asscheeks. Berenstain felt it, and pile drove naruto into the floor. Berenstain shivered.
"FUCK! OH THAT FELT WEIRD HOLY SHIT."
Naruto was now in significantly worse shape than he was before. Berenstain cringed at the premise of explaining it to Billy. He carried the battered boy up the steps and slapped him down on the medical table. Billy entered and moved to check on Naruto.
"Gilgamesh lord almighty, what the dick-tingling FUCK did you do?" Magnum said, even the most oblivious man capable of noticing his outrage.
"He fell," Berenstain responded abruptly.
"He fell?"
"He fell."
Berenstain jogged out of the room. Billy applied a brace and a cast for his broken shoulder and dislocated Elbow and let him sleep for the night.
Naruto awoke, his eyes adjusting to the minimal lighting within the medical bay. A few blinking red lights and fluorescent tubes kept the room's visibility up. He slid around on the worn padding, serving no real use anymore. As he shifted around, he heard a series of bumps. He froze, eyeing the morgue's doorway. More bumps, he squinted as hard as he could to make out any visible figures. A silhouette arises, the slight outline of broad shoulders and craned neck poking up from behind a desk. It rose, Naruto held his breath. It approached at a sluggish pace, and Naruto tried his hardest not to make a sound.
The figure's features were now visible, Bum stood tall and moderately unscathed. A set of new scars adorning his already scarred face. "Hey. My neck hurts, there any painkillers in here?"
He searched every cabinet before he found half-empty bottle of morphine, he pulled a syringe from the waste disposal bin and filled it, tapping the needle and then jabbing it into his upper arm. The needle bent, only penetrating a thin layer of skin. Agitated, Bum crushed the syringe in his fist and let the liquid drip to the floor. "Fuck it."
He cracked his knuckles. "Let me just give you a taste of what I'm feeling right now."
The lights flicked on, nearly blinding both Naruto and Bum. Tyrannus and Billy jumped on Bum, both striking him with all they've got. Tyrannus wrapped Bum with a spool of wire he had in one hand. Bum struggled but his efforts were in vain. Billy forced a few tablets into his mouth, potent anesthetics which took effect within minutes. "Alright, take him to the brig," Magnum commanded Bum's limp body twitched a bit as they carried to out of the room.
Naruto let his head flop back down onto the pillow. "I really need to jerk off."
Billy studied Bum for the next few days, keeping him drugged on a constant cocktail of anesthetics and painkillers.
"Is there any explanation thus far?" Tyrannus asked as he stood over Magnum's shoulder.
Magnum was busy stitching Bum back up. "His skin broke four scalpels, I had to custom order titanium-steel ones from a shady chinese peddler who lives in an alley behind a hospital. He doesn't bleed half as much as the normal man and his wounds close and seal themselves over a period of hours." Billy stopped stitching. "Which probably means I don't have to sew him up. Damn, wish I had thought of that earlier
"Interesting, but what's the explanation for his abilities?" Tyrannus inquired.
Billy slipped off his latex gloves. "Don't know, and I probably never will. It's almost as if someone forgot to write an explanation."