Hey again! BenchBeYolking here, with a little test, and I'd love to know what you all think if you have an opinion!
So first off, I'm trying something out, normally I write super long chapters and then post them all in one go, finishing an 'arc' in as little as 1 or 2 chapters, but in order to keep up a more consistent update schedule, I'm trying out splitting them into smaller (4-5k) sections instead of larger (8-10k) bits, if the chapters end up too short, I might switch back, but it's just a way to make sure I don't worry about not updating for a long time, especially now that I want to go back and edit the first few chapters in order to make them better~!
Anywichway, thank you all for all the favorites, follows and for twenty two reviews! I read, love (and may or may not cry) over each one, so keep them coming, and I'll keep pumping these chapters out! I write this stuff for you guys and I hope you all enjoy!
Without further ado, let us start the chapter! I'll let it speak for itself...
Lazarus found himself yet again in the nothingness.
Lazarus felt the darkness, the oppressive sense of failure adding a physical weight to the atmosphere. The world was heavy, infected by his troubled mind.
Newtonia began to laugh.
Lazarus raised his head, looking at the prone form of Newtonia, gasping for air as she continued to lose her mind in laughter.
"I warned you, and now you're in deep crap, huh?" She grinned, Lazarus scoffed, the pit in his gut persisted as he turned away.
"I lost count. How long until I can go back? I should have a better way of counting by now…" Lazarus muttered as he flexed his hands, trying to look for the familiar cracks in the landscape.
"Huh. That's new." Newtonia quipped, Lazarus glanced over his shoulder to see her gaze glued to something above her, Lazarus followed it to see a massive digital clock display in the air, counting down from five.
"Four," Lazarus chuckled, "You think I'd of figured out these tricks sometime before now, eh?" He glanced over at Newtonia to see her waving goodbye.
"Good luck! Try not to die so quickly again!" She shouted. Almost instantly, the ground cracked underneath him, and Lazarus stepped forward into the gap, falling back into reality.
Lazarus felt his eyes reform, at the same moment, the urge to gasp for air overtook him. He clasped a hand over his mouth, tears forming on his freshly regenerated cheeks as his mind screamed for breath. Lazarus waited a moment longer before taking a quiet, long, intake of air. Sat alone in the darkness, Lazarus regained his bearings on the situation.
The closet was tiny, but considering how empty it was, he could call it comfortably spacious, and most importantly, it was quiet and secluded from the rest of his apartment. His eyes had reformed in the darkness and as such he could see reasonably well in the low light, at least enough to stand up without sounding the alarm that he was alive, again.
Lazarus reached for the back of the dresser, praying to whatever gods were listening that the dresser didn't put up a fight as he tried to move it. Yet if they heard his prayers, they were promptly ignored as the dresser refused to budge forward. Lazarus couldn't help but mouth swear words as he grabbed one edge and tugged violently, trying to shift the stubborn piece of furniture as silently as possible. He took a heavy step back as he felt his pulling begin to give him results, the dresser finally shifting enough to reveal the hidden hole.
Lazarus froze as the ground sunk slightly under his foot, loudly creaking in an almost comically cartoonish manner. He let go of the dresser and threw his back against the wall, his ear pressed against the wall, hoping that if Blue was still out there, she wasn't paying any attention.
Six bullets ripped through the door to the closet, destroying the few shirts he had bothered to hang up on his rack, Lazarus felt chunks of wall pelt his body from his tucked position in the corner, feeling no more safe then if he had been directly in the line of fire. After a few seconds that stretched into an eternity, the silenced gunfire stopped, and Lazarus knew he had seconds to react.
He dove for the tiny hole, shoving the dresser as he crammed his body into the pathetically small hiding space, grabbing the edge of the heavy dresser and desperately wiggling it over the entryway as the sound of footsteps grew closer. Giving up on concealing the hole, Lazarus stayed perfectly still, the new sensation of his heart actually pounding in his chest weirded him out, as well as the feeling of his money bag pressed against his legs, and his head resting uncomfortably on a second unmarked bag he had hidden away. Lazarus tried to ignore the sound of the bullet ridden closet door being forced open, and the creaking of the floor as Blue shifted around outside, looking for the source of the noise.
Lazarus heard a distinctive hissing sound beside his head, the sound of a territorial animal's warning. Lazarus turned his neck slightly, coming face-to-snout with a massive rat. It was a rodent of unusual size as far as he was concerned, about half a foot long, and currently ready for a fight, a fight Lazarus would lose very quickly.
"Hey little guy." Lazarus whispered, fear creeping into his voice as he tried to keep his tone level and calm.
"Hissss." The rat chittered, opening and closing it's rather formidable jaw in a display of dominance.
"Yeah, okay, you win, this is your home, I'll get out of it soon." He locked his jaw shut as he heard Blue open his dresser, rooting around for something inside. The rat seemed unimpressed and stood up on its hind legs, clearly ready to rip his face off.
"I'll get you cheese!" Lazarus pleaded desperately, speaking so quietly he wasn't even sure if the rodent would be able to pick up on his words, "Not the cheap crap either, good, high quality cheddar, please, please…" Lazarus held his breath, preparing to endure a mauling followed by death. The rat seemed to give pause to the offer, before deciding that Lazarus's flesh was more readily available for consumption then the promise of cheese.
"I get it, little guy, no hard feelings. But know that I will try and bite you to death as well, that's just karma." Lazarus bared his teeth, preparing for the unpleasant taste of rat. Almost immediately, the rat backed down, seemingly shocked that it wasn't getting its way by being aggressive. The behavior gave Lazarus similar pause, causing him to suppress a chuckle.
A faint huff signaled Blue's failing interest in Lazarus's closet, as he heard footsteps move away from his bed, Lazarus waited until he head the footsteps echo in the living area before he tried to move, shifting slight, towards the exit, keeping his eyes glued to the rat. The rat, for its part, turned suddenly and scurried off to wherever it had come from, ignoring Lazarus entirely.
"I owe you one little guy!" Lazarus whispered intensely after the retreating form of the rodent, his stress level finally dropping as he pushed the back of the dresser with his legs, crawling back into the now ransacked closet. Lazarus grabbed at the two bags inside. Lazarus took a moment, as he put down his money bag, focusing instead on the plain black backpack, covered with a thin layer of dust. Lazarus hesitated as he reached for the clasp, undoing the flap, before reaching inside, feeling the familiar curvature of the first object inside.
Lazarus pulled it out and stared at the new key piece of his costume, the expensive looking fiberglass mask, painted a deep crimson color, with a little damage on it's surface adding character. It was styled somewhere in between a regal crown and a bare human skull, with a little bit of classic hockey mask aesthetic thrown in for good measure. He looked down at the other content of the bag, the rest of the costume bringing back memories of a different time, without thinking, he slipped the mask over his face, and began to suit up. His mind wandering.
Lazarus entered the small office, his eyes drawn to the endless wall of masks, styled in every different fashion, from hockey to masquerade. All of them had their own style, representing years of work, from skulls to flowers in a million different colours. He forced his attention onto the only other person in the room, an elderly man humming merrily as he sculpted yet another piece of art.
"Commission or pleasure?" Lazarus spoke, humor slipping into his tone. The man looked up and laughed.
"Please, you think that anyone other then you hires me? Obviously, a pleasure project. That is, until a collector sees my fine work and offers to pay me millions for my complete collection. Then I can give you a million bucks to stop bothering me, and leave for florida to die in peace like all old men dream." The man struggled to his feet, limping around his work desk to give Lazarus a massive hug, which he quickly reciprocated.
"Only a million? Ph, please, double that to get me to leave you alone Dale. It's too much fun to bother you." Lazarus ended the hug, feeling a little off at the mention of leaving.
"Bah, don't oversell yourself boy, you don't mean that much to me." Dale shook his head, "You barely manage to pay me half the time, and when you do, it's for work that rarely is worth the effort." Lazarus rolled his eyes.
"Ain't like normal, though, I have actual work for you, not some twenty-dollar patch-up job on our…" Lazarus smirked, "Hero cosplay."
Dale exhaled, scoffing, "Yes, your cosplay, which you manage to tear up, burn up and riddle with bullets at every convention you attend, yes?" Lazarus feigned innocent at the question.
"Those hero fans are vicious, I tell you, an All Might fanatic nearly tore my heart out!" Lazarus paused, before getting back to business, "I'm serious though, I need a commission, three, actually. Good work, good pay!" Lazarus watched the man waddle his way back to his side of the desk, dropping into his seat.
"Lazarus, I've given you a discount ever since, conveniently, the punks harassing me for extortion money disappeared around the same time you came in here to buy some second-hand hockey masks in strange colours. I know for a fact, that you need that discount because you are the most consistently broke boy I've ever met." Dale held up a hand to silence Lazarus before he could retort, leaving Lazarus to drop his tense shoulders and wait.
"As I was saying," Dale continued, "You couldn't afford one of my commission prices for my masks, let alone three." Lazarus waited, eyebrows raised. The man gave a tiny smile, signifying he was done.
"How much." Lazarus spoke.
"I already said Lazarus-" Dale tried to retort, this time, Lazarus silenced him.
"Gimme a quote, what kinda cash are we talking about here?" Lazarus spoke crisply, slipping several sheets of paper, with a bare-bones sketch of three different masks. He waited, letting his weight shift from one foot to the other as Dale appeared to be lost in mental math.
"Thousand bucks. For three? Yeah, yeah a grand for all three. Which I know-" Dale began, before he could finish, Lazarus took the wad of bills out of his pocket and threw them on the desk, eleven hundred dollar, smiling benjamins, scattered across the workbench.
"Last one's a tip. I'll come to pick up the red one in a few weeks, keep the other two until christmas, send 'em to my siblings as a gift." Lazarus turned to leave, hoping that the shock and awe would save him from having to answer any unwanted questions.
"...What did you do Lazarus?" Lazarus turned to see Dale's eyes cold and hard, burrowing into his heart, "What devil did you make a deal with for this wealth?"
"The devil who's paying for your commission fee. Something- something...don't look a gift horse in the mouth?" Lazarus finished, done with talking.
"Did you steal it?" Lazarus bit his lip at Dale's words. Choosing not to respond directly to the comment.
"The money's good, I'm good, that's all that matters." Lazarus respond after an awkward moment.
Dale stood, his legs shaking, "You are...you've never let your morals-"
Lazarus grunted, anger rising in his chest, "I didn't rip the money out of some poor old man's wallet, if that's what your worry is. The money is good. And it's mine now. How I got it? Doesn't. Matter. Call it taking my cut for all the heroics I've done. I think I deserve it after all I've given this town." Lazarus felt himself almost growl at the man, before calming his pounding heart, letting his temper cool.
Dale frowned, and then sat down, "You won't tell me."
"I won't tell anyone, if that fact makes you feel better, this is one deal I'll take to the grave. Now, when can I come pick it up?" Lazarus began moving towards the door, speaking over his shoulder as he made his way to the exit.
"Two weeks," Dale spoke quietly, before speaking up, "Then I don't want to see your face ever again." Lazarus paused, his hand hovering over the door handle, before shaking slightly.
"You can't be serious?" Lazarus chuckled, turning around, feeling disbelief rise into his eyes. Dale's eyes were unflinching in return.
"I'll do this job, then my debt to you is paid. I see now that you are a dangerous criminal, a Vigilante, who clearly doesn't have the same morals as a hero. I won't sell you out, but I'll offer you no more aid. That goes for your siblings too." Dale gathered the money and quickly slipped it into his desk, leaving Lazarus flabbergasted.
"My- what? Hah. Oh my god." Lazarus felt his emotions load into a roulette wheel, seemingly spinning around endlessly in his head.
Dale regarded him coldly, "Please get out."
Lazarus stepped forward, gesturing wildly with his arms, feeling tension grow in his limbs, "Hold on! Some repaying of your debts this is, old man, I risk my life, to save your sorry business, and life, but your big gesture of repayment is overcharging me for some cheap bits of shoddy fiberglass craftsmanship? Really? That's not just in my books." Lazarus watched Dale rise up to his full high, still shorter than Lazarus.
"Just? You know nothing of what is just, justice is what heroes stand for." Dale pointed a calloused finger at Lazarus's face as he lectured, which Lazarus swatted away, feeling his uncontrollable emotions take the reins from him.
"Oh? Oh! Hah! Wow! I'm sorry, really, sorry. I never knew that saving people isn't justice, I always figured it was a simple enough idea, but clearly, I'm just some dumb kid who thought that actually helping people was all there was to being heroic." Lazarus leaned into the man, causing Dale to flinch slightly.
"Don't fool yourself, I can see it in your eyes." Dale spat, taking Lazarus aback.
"Oh? What's in my eyes? Do the purple and black rings from late nights make me unheroic? Do real heroes get eight hours of sleep a night?" Lazarus mocked, hiding the underlying nerve that the man just hit.
"You don't do it for justice," Dale continued on, huffing with a half-laugh, "You do it to vent, I see the anger you bottle up, you can't find a constructive way to deal with it, so you pretend to be calm and happy, then snap like a twig whenever you get the chance to let it out." Lazarus opened his mouth to retort, but found he didn't have the right words in order yet, all he wanted to do was hit something.
"You've convinced yourself you deserve something for what you do. Guess what? You deserve nothing for taking out your anger on petty criminals illegally." Dale continued to rant. Lazarus put his hand on the table, needing to do something other then form a fist.
"I've risked my life- no, you know what?" Lazarus started, before chuckling humorlessly, starting over, "I've died. Died. For this town, for you, for the people in it, for justice. Again. And again. A few more times after that too! Hah!" Lazarus began to pace, resting his head in his hands.
"Congratulations, no one asked you to." Dale retorted. Lazarus felt like screaming.
"I just want to help people! So once, once. I said, 'screw it! The end justifies the means,' and got myself the green I need to actually become a hero who can help people. And not just some petty thug hunter, so what if it wasn't legal! You weren't complaining when I was breaking the law to help your ass. But no, the second it's my ass I'm trying to help, suddenly, I've 'compromised my morals,' right? That's how that works?" Lazarus spat back at the man, clenching and unclenching his hands every few words.
"You going to hit me?" Dale asked, his eyes following Lazarus's fists. Lazarus instantly relaxed his hands, opening his palms as he became aware of the sting from where his nails had been digging into his skin.
"You going to keep pushing me?" Lazarus snarked back, praying it would be enough to shut him up so Lazarus could leave. Dale's face curled in disgust.
"So that's a threat? You some big shot vigilante who goes around threatening old men? Huh? Going to make me pay a tax so you keep me safe now?" Dale prodded Lazarus in the chest, catching him off guard.
"I wasn't- you- that's not-" Lazarus spoke, not quite knowing where his words were going but knowing he had to say something, "I've not, threatened you- you- you threatened yourself! Okay! I'm the innocent one here, you are the one who started accusing- and harassing me!"
"What?" Dale looked at Lazarus incredulously, as if Lazarus had gone mad.
Lazarus grabbed at his hair, feeling the urge to tear it out, "It's all your fault! You've gotten me all worked up about this stupid, meaningless crap! Okay! I was having a good day, I offered you the best goddamn commission you will ever get, and then you spit in my face! That's- that's the kind of person you are! Ungrateful, just like everyone! Me and my siblings keep all of you safe and you can't be bothered to help any of us when we need it, when our parents needed it! But you'll take our help with one hand while you backstab us with the other!"
"I see it! That's right! Anger. Rage! You try so hard to be like your brother who's 'always cool' right? Like the heroes who you think you are so much better then because you don't follow the rules! You know what that reminds me of? I remember a woman once who- who…" Dale picked up steam, before the words died in his throat, the room descending into a tense silence.
"What." Lazarus didn't hold back, growling the word through his snarled lip.
"Nothing. Like- like a villain. A woman I knew who was a villain, that's it." Dale finished, suddenly seeming so much more weary and frail, Lazarus didn't care.
"What were you going to say? No, please! Finish your sentence." Lazarus took a step forward, shoving the desk back slightly as he did, cornering the man. Lazarus knew he was going too far, but he couldn't stop himself, not until he knew.
Dale said nothing, looking away, fear and shame on his face. The answer dawned on Lazarus.
"...like my mother, right?" Lazarus spoke, his voice empty, but curious.
Silence filled the room, a pregnant silence that spoke volumes.
"You Bastard!" Lazarus screamed, grabbing the edge of the desk and flipping it on it's side, grabbing Dale by the collar and pulling him off balance. Dale's legs collapsed under him, leaving him being held by Lazarus alone.
"Please!" Dale begged, his bravado gone, and Lazarus felt something deep inside of his awaken, a pit in his chest that had been dormant for his whole life.
"Stop! For both our stake you idiot, stop!" A voice echoed in his ear, and Lazarus paused, looking for the voice that had no body.
At the same moment, the door burst open, and Newtonia, followed by Isaac, ran into the room, hidden weapons drawn, prepared for a fight.
"Newtonia." Lazarus muttered, it must have been her, as he thought about it more, he was sure the voice must have been feminine, it must have been her. That voice was Newtonia.
"Lazarus? What the hell…" Isaac muttered, his eyes wide at the scene before him, Lazarus paused, taking in the entire room as the tidal wave of emotions finally passed over him, leaving his mind clear if its influence.
Lazarus threw Dale back into his chair, where he landed with a cushioned thud, curling up to protect himself from Lazarus's wrath. Lazarus felt tears come to his eyes, the man's words hitting him twice as hard as he realized what he had done. Lazarus took a deep breath, wiping his eyes with a sleeve before turning to leave. He pointedly ignored his siblings as he moved towards the door, stopping dead in his tracks as he passed by a mask the flipped desk had knocked to the floor. He picked up the deep crimson mask, which now had a long crack down the side from where it had harshly hit the edge of the desk. Without thinking, he slipped it over his head, moving out the door.
"Keep the money. Forget the commission, I'll take this one." Lazarus called over his shoulder, from the doorway.
"I hope you die and burn in hell you scum." The man's voice rose from the chair, shaky, but defiant. Catching both of Lazarus's siblings off guard.
"So do I, but I've got a lot more to do before then." Lazarus spoke plainly, leaving the room, the destruction, and the consequences, far behind him.
"...I am just." Lazarus asserted. Assuring his troubled mind.
Lazarus poked his head around the frame of the bedroom door, refocusing his mind as he watched through the slits in his mask, as Blue turned his apartment upside down in an attempt to find something. Lazarus dropped his bag of money silently, kicking the bag under the bed. Lazarus turned his attention back to waiting for when Blue looked away. Lazarus gazed up at the rafters just a short distance above his head. As he looked back down at his hands, he rubbed his dark brown gloves together, stretching his shoulder as the thick burlap padding rubbed against his skin, the breathable material offering him a surprisingly full range of motion.
As Blue turned to the kitchen, Lazarus took two steps into the living area and leaped, wrapping the tips of his fingers around the cold metal beam, swinging his legs up to hook onto a better grip. As soon as his legs were in place, he swung a hand around and pulled his whole body onto the beam, crouching on top of it. The whole movement took Lazarus less than a few seconds to complete, and he watched through the mask as Blue turned around and continued searching, none to wiser to Lazarus's acrobatics.
"Just gotta get out of here, hide out somewhere safe for a bit, then I can come back and work on patching up the bullet ridden drywall." Lazarus assured himself, reaching to grasp his cube, only to remember it was still embedded in his chest. Lazarus huffed, he had to admit, he felt more energetic with the cube actually in his body, but the unfamiliarity with the sensation still left him weary.
He watched Blue intensely as he moved, hopping beam to beam as he navigated his way towards the door, recognizing the unique stress she wore on her face. It was the stress that came from your first kill; Lazarus had seen many people wear that face around him, but seeing it on her face still gave him a sense of failure.
"Ah!" Blue yelped, almost causing Lazarus to lose his balance as he grabbed for the beam, holding on for dear life as he looked back down at Blue, who was holding a completely obvious old-school burner phone in her hand, the classic ringtone obviously catching her off guard. Blue quickly answered, holding it up to her ear.
"Sir! Hi! Yeah! Sorry for not calling! I…" She shivered, clearly uncomfortable in the apartment. Lazarus had the feeling Blue could sense that she wasn't alone, but he hoped she had told herself it was all in her head.
"Look, he's dead, okay? I did it. It wasn't...easy. But it's done. I couldn't find that stupid cube you wanted though, and I'm not going to risk getting caught by a hero just so you get a trophy…" She spoke with a shaky voice, clearly on edge, only to quickly backpedal.
"N-no I'm not talking back, I just- I killed- I- I'm sorry sir, forgive me, but I can't find it. It's not here." Lazarus put a hand to his chin.
"Someone knew I had the cube, didn't know how it worked, eh?" Lazarus muttered, before biting his Lip as Blue's head snapped around, looking every direction but up, before slowly putting the phone back to her ear.
"Sorry. Done. Okay. Justice is served. Whatever. Your will is done." As Blue spoke, something primal ignited inside Lazarus, the misuse of the simple word sending his mind into a flurry, before he suppressed it with a sobering thought.
"Justice is served...my penance has been paid." Lazaurs spoke, once again barely above a whisper, remembering he had no one to blame but himself for this situation.
"I'll be back soon, okay. Thank you sir. Goodnight." Without further formality, Blue hung up and took a sad breath, shaking her head out as she rubbed her temples. Lazarus almost felt bad for her.
"Hey tenant!" A familiar voice yelled from outside, causing Lazarus's blood to run cold.
Blue turned leveling her pistol at the door, before slowly lowering it, hiding it behind her back, "please! Come in!" She called sweetly, in the same tone she had seduced Lazarus with. He felt sick to his stomach.
"You got a girl in there? Damn it, no rent splitting allowed! One person per-" The man yelled as he opened the door, his complaints silenced as he saw Blue's eyes. Lazarus looked away, even from above, he felt their draw.
"Hi! Who are you." Blue asked sweetly, but with enough force behind the comment to make it a demand instead of a question. The man obliged.
"Goro." He spoke simply, mechanically, as if he had no issues obeying her every word.
She nodded, smiling, "Well Goro-san, I think you should forget you came-" A second ring tone interrupted her words as she grabbed for the same burner phone, flipping it open.
"Yes again?" She replied, blinking and turning her head away, releasing Goro from his metal prison. Lazarus watched as he turned his head rapidly, taking in the destroyed space in a second, turning to Blue with a furious expression.
"What the hell!" Goro began, but was cut off by a rude finger by Blue, who then went back to listening.
"Sorry sir! Right! I'll remember to destroy this phone right afterwards, I won't make that mistake again." She sighed, and Lazarus realized she had been scolded like a child by whoever was on the other end.
Blue blinked and then tilted her head, "Who? Oh, that's just the landlord, he's no worry, I was just going to...what?" Lazarus's full attention was drawn to her as she uttered the last word, dread filling her voice, filling Lazarus with a similar emotion.
"..." Blue opened her mouth, then simply closed it, nodding as she listened, hanging up the phone without any further comments. Lazarus held his breath, begging silently for a different outcome than he anticipated.
Blue locked eyes with Goro, and instantly, the anger drained from his face. She raised her hand, gun loaded, "I'm sorry...but you've seen too much. I have to be the enforcer of justice." Lazarus felt anger rise into his throat, his fear of death suddenly abandoning him as righteous fury burned underneath his skin.
"You've misused that word enough!" Lazarus yelled as he threw himself down towards Blue, who turned, shocked, and very afraid. As Lazarus, cloaked in brown and red, glared at her, his mask reflecting death back at her, yet his voice unmistable.
"You-" Blue whispered, Lazarus snarled. Standing defiantly as he pointed at Blue, pulling everyone's attention squarely onto him.
"I am Lich; Vigilante of Justice. And this is your Judgement day!"
