A/N: I make rather a lot of assumptions in this chapter. First of all, I assume Doomsmane has five fingers in the same formation as a human's. Secondly, I make the claim that Doomsmane can breathe fire like a real dragon.
Am I taking a shot at Justin Timberlake? You decide…
Recap: In that famous scene on the spiked log, Mars saved Kevin's life in return for the secret of the Butt Buster, which resulted in Mars gaining another lifelong scar, and Edward trying to take advantage of Mars's weakness, creating even more animosity between Kevin Mask and Mars.
Chapter 10 – The Anarchists
"Well done, Kevin," Pumpinator greeted Kevin, slapping him on the shoulder as he joined them by the wall of the cave,
"Ow," Kevin groaned, reaching a hand to the shoulder Pumpinator had slapped.
"Hey, I didn't hit you that hard!" Punpinator laughed.
"No, but I think I may have injured that shoulder yesterday," Kevin muttered, pressing the fingers of his left hand into his painful right shoulder experimentally.
"We should be making plans for how we will destroy the Muscle League," Dial Bolic rasped, clenching his hands into fists by his face.
"Yeah Kev, are you ready for this?" Pumpinator added, turning to Kevin expectantly.
"As ready as I ever will be," Kevin confirmed, nodding his head. "Let's go."
Kevin pulled on his large overcoat, tugging the collar up around his neck as though trying to hide his face, an action really unnecessary when he wore his trusty iron mask as always. Behind him, Pumpinator turned to Dial Bolic, shrugging his shoulders in confusion.
"Hey Kev!" he yelled after Kevin. "Don't you wanna maybe pack a bag? We probably won't be comin' back here, and even if we did, that bastard scarface will probably steal all your stuff anyways!"
"Let him have it," Kevin called over his shoulder. "I have my bike, and that is all I really need in this crazy world."
Pumpinator turned to Dial Bolic again, tapping a finger against his temple.
"Damn Mask family are all nuts, I tell ya," he muttered.
Dial Bolic nodded his understanding, grabbing up his own bag of personal belongings. The two nodded at each other, hoisting their bags over their shoulders and then started after their third team member, their self-appointed leader, Kevin Mask, recent graduate of The Academy.
Mars stepped back into the corner of the ring, smirking to himself as he watched Kevin Mask walk away, followed closely by Pumpinator and Dial Bolic. Chuckling to himself and shaking his head, Mars leaned back, resting his back against the corner-post and propping his elbows up on the ropes protruding from either side of it.
"Band o' freaks," he muttered to himself once the trio had disappeared from his line of sight.
Looking around himself, Mars could only see Doomsmane and Skulldozer standing by the ring. He knew only too well that the shadowy recesses of the cave walls were lined with lower-ranking DMP trainees and Legend Devil Chojin alike, all of whom would be keen to see the latest students sit their final exam. Kevin Mask had, of course, graduated effortlessly, after defeating the standard opponents for a finalist: a trainee and a Legend. Kevin had fought against Checkmate and his trainer DMP Legend Sunshine simultaneously, as was the requirement, and surprised all those in attendance by not only winning the match in a remarkably short space of time, but also by winning the match with grace and dignity, without maiming or killing either of his opponents.
"He values honour above all else, that boy," Doomsmane said with a sigh. "He'll never last in the DMP."
"Hey lizardboy!" Mars yelled across to the dragon Chojin. "Quit yappin' and send in my opponents already!"
Doomsmane slowly lifted his eyes from the clipboard he held in one clawed hand, eying Mars over with a degree of displeasure.
"As you wish, scarface," he slowly replied. "But since this is your third attempt to graduate from The Academy, we have prepared something very special for you here today."
"Oh yeah?" Mars drawled. "Bring it on!"
"Indeed," Doomsmane patiently continued. "Instead of pitting you against a team of two wrestlers, one trainee and one Legend, we decided that, under the circumstances, it was far more appropriate to choose one trainee and, instead of a Legend, a further two trainees, to test your skill."
"I'm fightin' three trainees?"
Mars pushed himself off the corner-post, slowly sauntering over to the side of the ring Doomsmane and Skulldozer stood at.
"A move in your favour, I'm sure," Doomsmane sarcastically replied, his eyes still fixed on the clipboard in his hand.
"Dis match will be over in seconds," Mars growled. "Send da little bastards in."
"With pleasure."
Doomsmane lifted his head from the clipboard, his eyes moving to something past and beyond Mars. He stretched out one arm, opening out his gnarled, scaly fingers. Mars turned his head to look over his shoulder, groaning at what he saw.
"No…" he grumbled, closing his eyes and shaking his head.
With a sigh of despair, Mars slowly turned around, facing the young DMP trainee standing on the ring apron, grasping the top rope on one hand and staring across the ring at Mars with narrowed, glowing green eyed.
"Well, well, if it ain't little Eddie Mask," Mars greeted him.
"That's right, scarface," Edward spat, climbing through the ropes. "And Doomsmane told me I could choose my own partner for this match. He said I should choose a Legend, but I managed to convince him that I would rather fight alongside my team-mates, and so he let me choose two fellow trainees in place of one Legend."
"So I gotta fight you and your two little friends," Mars groaned, rolling his eyes. "Like I ain't never done dat before."
Edward began to laugh at Mars, momentarily catching Mars off-guard. Why, Mars wondered, was Edward so confident? Mars had always managed to defeat Edward and his friends with ease, why should an official match against the trio be any different?
Mars cleared his throat, straightening his back and stretching to his fullest height to hide the flicker of doubt in his mind. Edward, he decided, was just bluffing after all. The boy had shown signs of being mentally unstable in the past, and obviously right now, after the events of the previous day, he was still a little wound up. Mars forced a confident smile as two silhouetted figures approached the ring. This, he told himself, was going to be even easier than he thought. This time there was no way Doomsmane could possibly fail him. In a matter of minutes, Mars would be graduating from The Academy at long last.
Edward eventually stopped his maniacal laughter as his two friends climbed into the ring, taking their positions at either side of him. Mars scanned his way along the three trainee Devil Chojins before turning his head to look over one shoulder at Doomsmane.
"Ring da bell already, I'm itchin' to kick dis off," he ordered.
"Certainly," Doomsmane replied, picking up the gavel and approaching the ringbell.
Doomsmane held the small hammer above the bell as if about to strike it, only to stop short.
"Oh, scarface my dear boy, there is just one more thing I really should tell you about this match before we begin," he said slowly. "One more small difference between this match and every other final exam match you have ever fought in that I really feel I should draw your attention to."
"Oh yeah?" Mars pressed impatiently.
"Oh yes," Doomsmane replied through a smile. "If you lay so much as one finger on Edward Mask, you will be failed instantly. Good luck, scarface."
"What?" Mars roared.
But before Mars could argue the point, Doomsmane sounded the bell, and Edward's two friends raced towards him. Mars hesitated, his mind racing as he tried to think of exactly how he could possibly defeat Edward if he could not even touch him. Mars's moment of weakness cost him dearly, as each of Edward's friends attached themselves to one of Mars's arms, pulling him back and tying his arms up into the ring ropes.
At first, Mars was more concerned with the fact that Edward was laughing like a madman again, but as his arms were pulled through the ropes, the jagged barbed wire tore into the thinner material of his bodysuit, drawing blood from his upper arms. Mars turned to look at each of his arms, gasping as he saw that he was completely ensnared in the ropes. The armguards he wore over his forearms had protected the lower part of his arms from injury, but they had also made him unaware of the extent of which he had been wrapped up into the wires. Mars tried to move his hands, but only succeeded in catching his knuckles against the barbed wire, drawing yet more blood.
"I'm really going to enjoy this…" Edward said, his voice sounding suddenly much closer.
Mars turned to face him, lifting one foot in an attempt to kick Edward away.
"Ah-ah, if you touch me, you fail, remember?" Edward warned, leaning over him.
"Get away from me!" Mars yelled.
"You owe me a kiss, Mars" Edward hissed.
Mars rapidly turned his head from side to side, pressing his back against the ropes as he tried to put as much distance as possible between himself and Edward.
"You can't join the ranks of the DMP until you kiss me, scarface!" Edward snapped irritably.
Mars paused, his face creasing as an idea occurred to him.
"Well hey, ya know what?" he said, turning to face Edward, smirking confidently. "I don't wanna join da ranks of da DMP. I don't wanna be just another brick in da wall like all of yous is. I wanna be da leader. I wanna be da head man of da DMP. And everybody knows dat da leader ain't da man who follows da rules, he's da man who breaks 'em."
"What?" Edward echoed nervously.
"I always did say I could still kick all your asses even wid both my arms tied behind my back!" Mars laughed.
Mars jumped up and kicked out with both feet, kicking his heels into Edward's chest and sending his body flying to the other side of the ring. Behind him Doomsmane rang the bell, yelling out that Mars was disqualified and that he had failed for a third time to successfully graduate from The Academy.
"Well I guess if I'm disqualified and I've failed already, I ain't got nothin' more to lose!" Mars cheerfully said, leaning forwards and pulling his arms around.
Edward's two friends helped him to his feet and all three watched in stunned awe as Mars pulled his tangled arms round, slowly snapping the wire ring ropes from the posts. They watched as Mars untied himself and then grabbed up the remains of the barbed wire, oblivious to the injuries he was inflicting upon himself as he began to bend the wire into a series of shapes.
"I don't like the look of this…" Edward muttered. "Doomsmane? Skulldozer?"
Mars blinked at Edward, before looking over each of his shoulders.
"Heh, looks like it's just you boys and me," he remarked as he saw that the two Legends had disappeared.
"We're not boys!" one of Edward's friends yelled defiantly. "We are the team who will defeat the Muscle League!"
"I thought dat was Kevin Mask's team dat was gonna defeat da Muscle League?" Mars returned.
"But we will are the team who will defeat Kevin Mask's team!" Edward argued back. "We are the team born of hatred, the team who dare to defy the rules, the team who–"
"Da team who have some major issues," Mars cut in. "Do me a favour Eddie. Step outta your big brother's shadow and go do somethin' for yourself, yeah?"
"I have done something for myself, Mars!" Edward retorted. "I have formed a wrestling faction the likes of which no-one has ever seen before! I was trying to tell you about it, but you interrupted me!"
"Oh I'm sorry. Please, do go on. I do enjoy a good joke."
"We are no joke! We will destroy the Muscle League and we will destroy Kevin Mask and his friends. And then we will destroy the Legends of the Muscle League. I am going to challenge my father to a fight to the death!"
"You're gonna do what now?"
"I hate Robin Mask and I hate everything he stands for! Ever since he got that knighthood from the queen of England, he changed. He thought he was so special when he became "Sir" Robin Mask! Well, do you know what? I hate "Sir" Robin Mask, and I hate the queen! The queen represents everything my father ever stood for! He fought for her, and his royalist views drove me to the ends of my sanity! Which is why I swore to follow the path of anarchy. It is why we are The Anarchists!"
"I see…"
Mars slowly nodded his head, pulling a face of mock interest.
"Okay, now dat's all cleared up, I'ma get you all," Mars bluntly said. "I'll be da wrestler who goes down in history for destroyin' a new faction in da shortest period of time ever. Da day Da anarchists was formed, Mars obliterated 'em…"
Mars tugged at the barbed wire, grinning maliciously. He pulled down his golden visor, activating his Mask of Madness, and began to stalk towards the three trainees before him.
"Run!" Edward yelled.
Amy sighed, holding up her notebook and scanning through the writing scribbled across the pages. Although she had written all those notes with her own hand, the letters were barely legible to her own eye; so much had happened, she had tried so hard to write it all down in such a short space of time.
But, Amy thought to herself, she had done a good job of capturing everything that she had witnessed in her time skulking around in the shadows of the DMP headquarters. She had uncovered a fantastic story. A story of intrigue, mystery, drama, action, betrayal, hatred, passion, lust, vengeance, wrath, ambition, pain and suspense. A story any news station the world over would pay millions for. A story that she herself had played a role in. A story that had become a part of her life.
Amy slowly turned on a few pages, stopping at the section entitled "Mars". Mars's story had been fascinating, and she prided herself on how she had pieced it together from snippets of heartfelt confessions Mars had spontaneously made when either drunk or stoned.
Mars was an Accipiter Sapiens, or birdman. Although Amy had heard of the Accipiter Sapiens race, she had never actually seen a birdperson, and so had always thought them to be a mythical being. The Accipiter Sapiens were renowned to be a peaceful race, a religious race who valued honour above all qualities, a race who lived a secluded existence, their rigid morals and high values making them outcasts in human society, where disorder and diversity ran rife.
Mars, it seemed, had been a rebel. Rebelling against his strict upbringing, he had run away from home at an early age to join the DMP, an act apparently done in direct defiance of his family. An act he lived to regret, since Doomsmane had scarred his face to show his dishonour to all the world, to prevent him from ever returning to his family, to his people.
Mars always seemed confident to the point of arrogance; but he lived a lonely existence, hidden in his little cave at the top end of the DMP headquarters, segregated from the other Devil Chojins in more than just distance.
Mars's story was a brilliant one, but it was not Amy's favourite; Kevin Mask's story was the one that really stood out in her mind.
Raised by a domineering father who worked him impossibly hard in both his studies and his physical training, Kevin's only solace as a youth had been in the company of his kind, caring and doting mother. But Kevin had lost his mother by the most terrible means imaginable, and consequently had always blamed himself for her death. After Alice Mask died, the only company Kevin had left was that of his younger brother Edward.
Edward had disappeared from Kevin's life the day he was "kidnapped" by Mars, and Kevin had almost gone mad thereafter in the company of only Robin Mask and Warsman. Kevin had run away from home in search of friends and fun, but had ended up turning to drink and venting his anger in vicious street fights.
Of course, Kevin had then met up with Devil Chojins Pumpinator and Dial Bolic, who had taken him back to the DMP headquarters to commence his training, where Kevin had met Mars, and been reunited with his long lost baby brother Edward.
After learning that little brother Edward was a bitter, twisted, weak and miserable young man, Kevin had only suffered further anguish when he had learned that Edward was also harbouring feelings for Mars, and his mind was tortured by the lingering question of just how far Edward's affections had taken his relationship with the Accipiter Sapiens.
"Poor Kevin, he's just misunderstood," Amy sighed, holding up her notebook again. "All he really wants and needs is a good friend, someone to confide in, someone he can really trust and depend upon."
Amy paused, suddenly aware that it had gotten much darker in the late evening light, so dark that her eyes were straining to read the already barely-legible text in front of her. Amy gulped hard as a sickening thought curdled inside her mind. Around her the grassy hillside was still illuminated by the sinking sun, the sudden darkness being concentrated over and immediately around her. Amy reluctantly came to the conclusion that she was no longer alone on the hillside.
"Mars?" she asked weakly. "Kevin?"
"Guess again," a clipped, deep voice replied.
Amy started to turn her head to look over her shoulder, her breath catching in her throat as a wall of flame passed in front of her face, igniting the notebook in her hand. As the flames faded in front of her face, leaving only black smoke and a heat haze in the air, Amy turned to her hand, screaming as she saw the charred remains of her weeks of note-taking smouldering into black ash between her fingers.
Amy dropped what little was left of her precious notebook, leaping up and scrambling away from the menace behind her as fast as she possibly could.
"Oh no you don't," the voice growled.
A bony, clawed hand grabbed Amy's shoulder from behind, yanking her around with such force, she spun on the spot, before falling back down to the ground, facing the giant shadow that threatened her.
"Wh-what the hell are you?" she squealed, her eyes doubling in size as she glanced nervously over the giant humanoid lizard standing over her.
"Your worst nightmare, you stupid little girl!" the dragon snarled. "I am a Devil Chojin, a Legend of the DMP, my name is Doomsmane, and it is my responsibility to deal with anyone who dares to approach our sacred lair. Either you are here to join us, or you are here to die. Which is it, girl?"
Amy shuffled back, hissing as one of her wrists clattered painfully into a rock.
"I assume then that you wish to die," Doomsmane concluded. "But I'm not so heartless that I would strike my prey while it is down, especially not when it is nothing more than a ridiculous little slip of a girl. Give me at least some fun, little girl. Try to run away from me. Go on, make me laugh before I drink your blood and serve your pickled bones for breakfast!"
Amy quickly got to her feet, readying herself to turn away from Doomsmane and run for her life; but like the vile, immoral being that he was, Doomsmane did not even allow Amy the chance of escape that he had just promised her. No sooner had she gotten to her feet than he swiped a clawed hand at her face. His long, sharp, ragged talons tore into Amy's skin, spraying blood through the air. The force of the blow knocked Amy to the ground, where she landed awkwardly on one arm, her head pulsing and spinning as blood pumped out of the deep gashes over her face.
Amy slowly reached a quivering hand to her face, touching the tip of her nose before quickly snatching back her hand as she felt a stream of hot, fresh blood slip down her fingers. Amy looked down at the lines of blood on her hand, silently hoping that the monster killed her quickly, as his attacks were painful beyond belief. She closed her fist around the blood, which was beginning to dry onto her skin already, and slowly turned to face the dragon.
Amy whimpered involuntarily as she watched Doomsmane slowly and methodically lick her blood from the underside of each of his claws in turn, making small noises of delight as he did so. Once he was done, he smiled dreamily, slowly lowering his eyes to Amy's.
"And now girl, you die," he said slowly. "I think I shall just eat you alive. The only thing more succulent than fresh meat is fresh live meat…"
Amy screamed as the dragon fell ungracefully towards her. She quickly rolled over to one side, watching in a state of horrified intrigue as Doomsmane fell hard to the ground where she had been lying only moments ago, a dark shape attached to his back.
"What are you waiting for, get the hell out of here!" a voice yelled at her.
Amy frowned at the dark shape, squinting as she saw the distinct shape of two legs at one end of it. Recognising that someone had come to her rescue, she hurriedly nodded her understanding, pushing herself up to her feet. She turned and started to run away, only to stagger to a halt.
"I can't do this," she muttered to herself.
Amy turned back to the ensuing fight behind her, watching as the dragon and her saviour rolled over and over each other, rolling down the side of the hill. In the increasing darkness caused by the onslaught of nightfall, combined with the dizzying effects of the painful blow she had taken to the face, Amy's eyes were straining to make anything out. Images and shapes moved in and out of darkness, blurred in and out of proportion, and nothing seemed to make any sense to her any more.
A cold, sickening sweat prickled through Amy's skin, cooling her as a sudden gust of wind swept past her. She shivered involuntarily, cries of pain catching in her ears from the fight scene below her. Whoever it was that was grappling with the dragon was only doing so because of her. Whoever, or indeed whatever, it was, this person was in great danger, and it was all because of her.
Amy quickly looked about herself, clasping a hand to her forehead as the movement of looking downwards caused fresh spurts of thick blood to pump down over one side of her face, leaving her feeling even more light-headed than before. In her confused, dazed and barely conscious state, Amy grabbed up a thick stick from the ground at her feet and started down the hill.
Along the way, Amy stumbled around and over various foreign objects, most of which she vaguely recognised as items of clothing. She did not stop to confirm what any of them were, instead running on until she caught up with Doomsmane, who was getting to his feet as she reached him.
"Leave him alone, you bastard!" she yelled, swinging the stick at the dragon's head.
Amy managed to smack Doomsmane over the skull with the stick with a satisfying thud, unfortunately doing little more than arousing his anger. Doomsmane snarled angrily, snorting smoke out through his nostrils. He spun around to face her, his face looking positively demonic as smoke continued to curl out of his nostrils. He opened his mouth, a swirl of orange flames gathering in the back of his throat. Amy yelped, thrusting her hand towards his mouth and lodging the stick between his jaws.
Amy staggered back, watching fearfully as Doomsmane tried to shut his mouth. He wretched in confusion, clawing his hands into his mouth in a desperate attempt to dislodge the stick that had become firmly rooted between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. With his tongue pinned down hard, Doomsmane had little control over the situation, and an ungraceful line of sliver slid over his bottom lip, hanging down from one corner of his mouth.
Amy screamed, falling back into a sitting position as Doomsmane suddenly became air-bourn; he could fly? Doomsmane's body floated in the air for a moment before shooting to one side and landing hard by a ledge on the hillside. The dragon struggled there for a brief moment, still clawing angrily at the stick in his mouth, before rolling off the edge and plummeting down the steep drop.
Amy sighed in relief, flopping onto her back and spreading out her arms and legs out at her sides. As she looked up at the sky, the colours of the sunset, the clouds, the moon, the small hints of stars and the sky itself all began to blur and spin. The wound on her face was pulsating, and her body was fighting hard to heal itself. She touched a hand to her jaw, groaning as she felt the stickiness of her own congealing blood.
Amy slowly moved her hand upwards, closing her eyes as she gingerly touched her fingers to various parts of her face. She could feel four distinct tears in her skin, although two were only minor, and one was nothing more than deep cut. Doomsmane's index finger had left a small laceration along Amy's forehead that started just above the bridge of her nose and came down through the middle of her left eyebrow. His middle finger, being his longest finger, had left the deepest gash, which began just below the bridge of her nose, ran down the left side of her nose to her cheekbone and down almost to her jawline. Doomsmane's third finger had left two deep cuts, one near the tip of her nose that ran parallel to the gash his middle claw had made, and another cut halfway down her cheek. Doomsmane's smallest finger had left a minor laceration, but one that ran from Amy's upper lip, over her lower lip and down to one side of her chin.
Amy opened her eyes, inhaling sharply in fear as a leathery hand clamped around her wrist and lifted her hand from her wounds.
"Don't poke at them, you'll only make them worse," a voice quietly scolded her.
"Wh-who are you?" she asked, squinting against her dizziness and the increasing darkness at the shadow hanging over her.
"It's probably best that I don't answer that question right now," the voice replied. "We need to get you some help. Come with me."
"I don't think I can walk," Amy protested.
"You won't have to."
Amy opened her mouth to argue again, but her words were cut off as an arm reached around the backs of her knees and another around her waist. Amy yelped as she was hoisted off the ground, grabbing a handful of the ragged pink material by her chest.
In her dazed state, Amy was beginning to question all manner of things that she would, under normal circumstances, accept for what they were; but the most pressing thought in her mind revolved around the overwhelming feeling of foreboding she could sense emanating from the man carrying her up the hillside. Amy looked down at her hands, opening them out to inspect the torn and blood-soaked remains of the dull pink T-shirt the man wore.
"You saved my life," she said frankly, her voice sounding fuzzy in her own ears.
The man did not answer her, and so Amy moved her eyes upwards slightly, stopping as she caught sight of a chunk of ash blonde hair. She cautiously touched her fingers to it, narrowing her eyes at it suspiciously.
"You saved my life," she said again, looking upwards until she found the man's face.
Again, he ignored her. Amy tilted her head to one side, studying him carefully. He had smooth, chiselled features, long blonde hair and determined blue eyes. And apparently he had a halo. Amy reached a hand up towards his head, causing him to look sharply down at her with a scowl of displeasure.
"Stay still," he grumbled.
"You have long blonde hair, blue eyes and a big halo," she told him. "You must be an angel. And I must be dead. You didn't save my life, you came to take my soul to heaven."
"Halo?" he muttered, stopping short. "What the devil are you talking about?"
He turned his head upwards, sighing at what he saw.
"That's the moon, you idiot," he pointed out, before walking on. "You're just seeing the glow of the full moon behind my head, now shut-up and stay still."
"Am I dead? Is this heaven?"
"No and no."
"I thought heaven would be more… Cloudlike."
"This isn't heaven. Far from it."
"Then I'm still alive?"
"Can you feel any pain?"
"Yes."
"Then you're still alive."
"But you are my angel? You must be my guardian angel, you saved my life."
"Oh shut-up already."
Amy's eyesight blurred, a grey cloud passing over the shapes around her, before she finally passed out completely. Her rescuer gently laid her down on the moss by the entrance to Mars's cave, sliding his arms out from under her. He frowned down at her still and silent form for a moment before poking her in the ribs with one experimental finger.
"Are you dead?" he asked her.
When she did not answer he pulled off one glove, touching his bared fingers to her neck. When he was certain he could still feel a pulse he stood up, sighing and shaking his head.
"Stupid girl," he grumbled. "Now what am I meant to do with you?"
Just then a third figure joined them as Mars staggered into his cave from within the DMP headquarters. He chuckled to himself quietly, muttering something under his breath about being the new leader of the DMP, before skidding a halt and staring silently at the figures by the mouth of his cave.
"Hey, what da hell's goin' on here?" he demanded, marching out onto the hillside.
Mars glanced between the man standing at one side of the cave and the girl lying at the other.
"Hey, I know her!" he eventually said. "Dat's da obnoxious girl from High Park Ladies Club wid a face like a horse. Her name's Julie."
"Her name's Amy, you miserable buffoon," the man next to him growled.
"Is she your girlfriend?" Mars asked, turning to eye over the man. "She don't look too good, maybe you oughta get her to a doctor, or somethin', yeah?"
"Doomsmane did this to her," the man calmly replied.
"Doomsmane?" Mars echoed, turning back to Amy. "Shit, dat ain't good. Did he get to you too?"
Mars pointed his finger at the various tears in the man's clothing and the selection of lacerations and burns over the bared parts of his body.
"I'm fine," the man calmly replied. "But I will need your help. Doomsmane did to her face what he did to yours. You lived, but you are a superhuman. Will she die?"
"Hey, how do you know Doomsmane did dis?" Mars asked suspiciously, touching a hand to his scars.
"Because you told me, you daft git."
"Hey, back off wid da insults! Do you want me to help you or not?"
"Will she live?"
"She should do. But she ain't gonna look too pretty. She'll be scarred forever."
"Alright. I'm going to take her to a hospital. But I can't do it like this. Doomsmane tore off some of my clothing, would you be good enough to retrieve my belongings for me if I stay here with the girl? You understand I'm only asking you to do this for the sake of the girl. She's a bit disoriented and distressed, she needs someone to stay with her, and I think she prefers me to you."
"I'ma help you out dis time pal, but only because it's for a lady, understand?"
"Yes."
"But you gotta get outta here pretty damn fast. Do you even know where you are?"
"I'm standing outside your poxy little bedroom, Mars."
"Hey, how do you know my name?"
The man sighed, rolling his eyes in despair. He began to rip the remains of his tattered and torn T-shirt from his body, causing Mars to take a step back from him, his eyes widening worriedly.
"Hey, what cha doin' now?" Mars demanded.
"I find it hard to believe that you could forget me so quickly, scarface," the man grumbled, dropping his T-shirt to the ground and turning his back on Mars.
Mars frowned, running his eyes over the tattooed images over the man's back. It looked like a giant spiderweb, littered with small human bodies.
"Hey, Kevin Mask had a tattoo just like dat, pal," Mars told him.
The man snarled in frustration, spinning around to face Mars again.
"I am Kevin Mask, you bloody idiot!" he yelled into Mars's face. "Now will you please get me my coat and my mask so that I can take this interfering little bitch of a girl to a hospital! The sooner I get this out of the way, the sooner I can go back to my plan of destroying the Muscle League, understand?"
"Squealer?" Mars said slowly, the corners of his mouth curling into his cheeks to form a mischievous grin. "I never knew you was a pretty boy."
"Just shut-up and get me my mask!" Kevin snapped irritably.
"Sure, I'ma help you out dis time, squealer," Mars replied, nodding his head.
"Thank you, scarface," Kevin sneered.
"You're welcome," Mars replied, stepping over Amy and starting down the hillside. "Although…"
"Oh God…" Kevin grumbled, dragging his ungloved hand down his face as Mars stopped and turned back to face him.
"You do remind me of someone now dat I see your face…" Mars said slowly, waving a finger at Kevin.
"Edward?" Kevin suggested. "My father?"
"No, it ain't a wrestler," Mars replied, shaking his head. "It's some dude I saw on TV one time…"
"Mars, please, the girl is suffering here."
"Sure, I'm on da case."
Kevin watched Mars walk on down the hill, sighing in relief that he had finally gotten rid of him.
"The amount of trouble you have caused me, Amy…" he grumbled, turning back to the unconscious girl at his feet.
Kevin slowly lowered himself to his knees at her side, removing his other glove. He began to gingerly pick her hair out of the wounds on her face, stopping abruptly when she groaned and began to stir.
"Amy?" he whispered.
"Angel?" she moaned, her eyes fluttering open.
She looked directly at Kevin, blinking several times before her eyes focussed. She smiled at him brightly, reaching a hand up to his face.
"My angel…" she said dreamily.
"I'm no angel, Amy," Kevin warned her.
"You were watching over me," Amy replied.
"No, I just happened upon you," Kevin quickly pointed out.
"Then you must happen upon me more often."
Kevin gulped nervously as she reached a hand into her jean pocket, pulling out a small card and a pen.
"What are you doing?" he asked her.
"I'm not letting you get away that easily!" she laughed.
"You're not well!" Kevin insisted as she began to scrawl something on the card with her pen. "You're delirious with pain! You don't know what you're doing!"
"Keep this, angel," she whispered, pressing the card against Kevin's chest.
Kevin slowly reached a hand to Amy's, taking the card from her. She let her hand drop back down to her side, smiling gormlessly up at Kevin as he pulled the card back to read it.
"Call me my angel," he read aloud.
Kevin frowned at Amy, turning the card over to inspect the other side.
"A friend of mine is an art student," she explained. "She made me some business cards just… Just for laughs… You will call me, won't you, Angel?"
Kevin's eyebrows shot up as he saw that the other side of the card was printed with the name "Amy MacLeod" and a telephone number.
"Amy MacLeod," he said slowly, lifting his eyes to hers.
"I think I love you," she replied, pushing herself up onto her elbows.
"Careful, you're hurt!" he said, shoving her card into his pocket and reaching his hands out to catch her in case she fell back down.
"Angel…" she whispered, lifting one hand up to Kevin's face.
Kevin froze as she slowly dragged the tip of one finger down one side of his face. Amy moved her hand down to Kevin's neck, sliding her fingers up through the hair at the back of his head. Kevin instinctively moved his hands closer together, taking hold of either side of her waist. At the contact, she sat up further, moving her face closer to his. Before he could stop himself, Kevin closed the gap between them, catching her lips in a kiss. She let out a small sound in the back of her throat and he moved back, cursing himself inwardly as he saw that he had just successfully reopened the cut over her lips.
"It's okay," she assured him, touching her other hand to his cheek and smoothing her thumb over his lips. "It's okay."
Kevin and Amy moved towards each other again and began to kiss each other. Kevin moved his hands up her back, pulling her closer to him and leaning over her. Amy clawed her fingers into his scalp, sending a shiver of pleasure down his spine. Kevin began to lose his inhibitions, gripping her tighter and deepening their kiss. Amy dragged one hand down the back of his neck, her fingernails catching on the skin at the base of his neck.
Kevin growled and Amy moaned, and both pulled the other closer, their kissing becoming more frantic. But a sudden clanging sound at their side made them separate abruptly. Both looked up, seeing Mars standing over them, a large overcoat hanging from one hand.
"Oh fuck," Kevin groaned.
Amy slowly lowered her eyes to the source of the clanging sound, finding a large blue iron mask lying open on the ground by her side.
"Hey, isn't that Kevin Mask's mask?" she asked, pulling one hand from Kevin to pick it up.
"Yes, it is mine," Kevin quietly replied.
Amy paused, the mask hanging from her fingers. She slowly lifted her dark eyes from the mask to Kevin's face, the realisation of her situation slowly dawning on her.
"Kevin?" she said in a choked voice. "Kevin Mask?"
"Yes, I'm afraid so," Kevin quietly replied.
"But…"
Amy looked down at the mask again, and then up at Kevin.
"You lied to me!" she yelled, gripping into his mask. "You told me you were my angel!"
"I never said that!" Kevin protested.
"You never denied it!"
"What?"
"You lying, sick, fucking bastard!"
Amy swung her hand towards Kevin, smacking his mask into his face. He grunted in shock, falling back onto one hand. Amy struggled towards him but he quickly got to his feet, turning to Mars.
"You complete and utter bastard, Mars!" he roared.
"You're welcome, Mask," Mars replied with a smug grin.
"You're the utter bastard, Kevin Mask!" Amy yelled, swinging Kevin's mask at his face again. "I hate you! I hope you burn in hell, you… You…"
Amy swayed on the spot for a moment before her eyes rolled back into her head and she began to collapse. Kevin quickly reached out both arms, catching her limp form as she dropped his mask to the ground with another clang. He sighed in relief, before turning to Mars, who was whistling a tuneless ditty as he casually admired his fingernails.
"Take her to a hospital, Mars," he said quietly. "I can't do it, she hates me. Just be gentle with her, alright?"
"Sure, Mask," Mars sighed. "You don't mind if I have sex wid her first, right?"
"What?" Kevin roared. "You sick bastard, she's unconscious!"
"Yeah?" Mars replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Dis way she can't say no."
"What?" Kevin yelped. "Look, never mind, you obviously can't be trusted. I'll just have to take her there myself. Honestly, I can't rely on you for anything!"
"You can rely on me beatin' your ass in da ring."
"I'd like to see you try,"
"I will one day, Mask."
"I look forward to it."
"Me too."
"Then we truly will know who the better wrestler, and indeed who the better man, is!"
"We already know I'm da better man, but I'd like to prove dat I'm also da better wrestler."
"It's a deal. I'll see you after I've dealt with the Muscle League."
"You're on."
Kevin lowered Amy to the ground and retrieved his mask, pulling it on and closing it into place around his head. Mars threw Kevin's coat to him, which Kevin caught midair and roughly pulled on, closing it over his bare upper body.
"Until we meet again, scarface," he growled, grabbing Amy up and throwing her over his shoulder.
"Until we meet again, squealer," Mars replied, saluting Kevin.
Kevin turned his back on Mars and marched off down the hillside with Amy.
"I rather suspect that I stand as much chance of seeing him again as I do of seeing you, Miss MacLeod," Kevin muttered to himself. "That man will never amount to anything, I swear."
Back at the mouth of the cave, Mars smiled to himself, clicking his fingers as he was suddenly hit by the solution the question that had been nagging at the back of his mind.
"It's dat kid from da Mickey Mouse Club!" he muttered to himself. "He looks just like dat little blonde one, Nick Hasler!"
Next Chapter: Forward in time, Kevin Mask wakes up the morning after the final match of the Ikeman Chojin Crown and reflects on just how Jacqueline McMadd got her hands on the information about his time at the DMP. Chapter 11 – Scarface.
A/N(2): WARNING, the next chapter does contain a certain degree of spoilers for The Reason for anyone who has not read as far as the final match of the Chojin Crown. It may also make you want to hit me with a very, very big stick. You have been warned.