And the second part is here. Hope you like it.
"Oh no. Oh nonononononononoNO! Wake up, Sabrina, wake up!"
She pounded on the woman's chest, willing with all of her heart for the woman to inhale. Seeing that Sabrina wasn't responding, she bent over the woman and tried one last set of compressions. Panic coursing through her body, she leaned farther over and, after pinching Sabrina's nose, closed her eyes, and administered mouth-to-mouth. She'd willingly throw herself into the deepest pit she could find before she was responsible for somebody's death.
"Oh, hell no!" A strong fist collided with Lyn's jaw, sending her reeling backwards. Rubbing her mouth in pain, she watched in amazement as Sabrina coughed heavily and sat up, staring at the first mate with a mixture of disgust and amazement. "I dunno about you, miss, but I don't swing that way."
Despite her wounded mouth, Lyn's grin returned full force. "Oh, don't be such a prudish weakling. I didn't want you to die on me!"
"Weakling?" Sabrina murmured, putting a hand to the dark bruises already developing on her neck. "I'm no weakling, yet you beat me. Maybe there is something to this mercy thing…"
"The hell there is," Lyn scoffed, standing up and wiping a trickle of blood from her split lip, only to smear the blood from her wounded arm all across her mouth. "Wait till you see my navigator kick your captain's ass. Then you can see just how far 'mercy' will take him."
"As if," Sabrina shot back, accepting Lyn's bloody hand and heaving herself to her feet. "Captain will pound that punk into the ground."
Lyn shook her head, her fierce grin never leaving her face. "The fight is a tie, isn't it?"
"You beat me," Sabrina said firmly. "You get the win."
Nodding and laughing merrily, Lyn began turning away to return to her crew, but Sabrina stopped her. Catching the first mate by surprise, the corsair whirled the confused woman around and drew her into a quick hug. "Thanks for trying to bring me back," Sabrina whispered into her ear.
Lyn nodded and returned the hug in kind. After a short pause, she pulled away and was about to head back when Sabrina gave her one last light punch to the jaw. "And don't let me see you dying before I can beat you again!"
"I'll be waiting!" Lyn responded, bounding cheerfully over to the rest of the Black Glove Pirates. Alexander was gaping at her in shock, Cassandra's lips were curved upward in amusement, and Damien's wrathful glare was still directed at Madaxe. Lyn rubbed the back of her head and gave a small laugh. "Well, that turned out just right, donthca think?"
\\'/.\\'/.\\'/.\\'/.\\
"At least you didn't ruin my shirt," Cassandra told her with a grin. There weren't many people she knew that would attempt to bring a foe back from the dead. A smile still gracing her lips, the pirate captain gazed upwards at the statues of the Pirate Kings, wondering which of the two pirates would be summoned next. Logically, she was a captain, but she had a hunch that Madaxe would be saving his battle for last. After all, he was a captain as well. "Go see if you can find a corner without anyone nearby. Raven's so good with cuts like that that you won't even see any scars."
"There will be a brief intermission, for the next battle has some special arrangements," a voice boomed, magnified greatly by the Den-Den Mushis scattered about the arena. "Everybody, feel free to move about the stadium."
Cassandra raised an eyebrow. "What the hell does…"
She trailed off as a short man waddled up to her and bowed his head. "I presume you are Black Glove Cassandra?"
"I am."
"Your presence is required outside the arena," the man said, stepping backwards cautiously. "Just you."
"Very well," Cassandra consented. "Lead me."
The man turned around and began exiting the stadium. Cassandra made as if to follow him, then doubled back and gestured for the others to huddle together. "I have a feeling about this match and I don't like it," she stated in a low voice, eliciting some looks of concern from Alexander. "Damien, at the first sound of shooting, you're to use your wings as a shield. Raven will tend to you if you get hurt once she's done with Lyn. I trust you two can handle yourselves."
She nodded at them, straightened her hat, and walked after the man. Keeping her hands on her pistols, she glanced around, remembering every little detail. She was surprised when, upon exiting the arena, the man turned to her and held up his hand, pulling an over-sized pocket watch from his pants and glancing at it. "Please wait for two more minutes."
Satisfied that she would be given more instructions in due time, she leaned against the column near the entrance and waited, closing her eyes and letting her senses interpret her surroundings. She didn't increase her senses yet, choosing instead to conserve her energy for the fight.
Her brow crinkled in irritation as somebody approached her before the minutes were up. Eyes opening immediately, she focused her keen gaze on the man who was cautiously approaching her, a long brown package held in his hands. She stared at him, waiting for him to explain himself.
"For you," he said, bowing as he offered the package to her.
Flicking her throwing knife into her hand, she easily slit the paper and string from the object, her eyes widening as she saw what it was.
There, much to her amazement, lay the sniper rifle she had ordered, gleaming brightly in the sunlight. Boxes of ammunition fell to the ground, threatening to burst open. Lifting the rifle away from the packaging, she saw one last thing that she didn't immediately recognize. A long band of black leather, outfitted with a series of snaps and clasps, tumbled to the ground. The corners of her mouth lifted as she realized what it was. "How nice of him. Thank you. I'm off again."
She was in the process of looping the black leather bandolier around her body, stretching it from her left shoulder to her right hip, when the short man approached her again.
"You may now re-enter the stadium." Nodding, she strapped the rifle to her new bandolier, placed the ammunition in her pockets, began to walk back down the path. "No, not that way." She turned to him, confusion evident in her eyes. "You and your opponent are to locate the other and kill without knowing exactly where they are."
A smirk of understanding spread across her face as she removed her hands for her pistols. This is what she excelled at. The only problem she could think of was that she didn't know what her opponent looked like. She never expected Madaxe to play fair, but that just made it all the more exciting. She was about to depart when the salesman spoke up again. "And your special order, miss."
Cassandra caught the tiny box in one hand and flicked it open with her thumb. A single blue-green ring sat nestled between two blocks of velvet, barely reflecting any sunlight at all. Grinning happily, she pocketed the ring and tipped her hat to the man. Then, after making sure the rifle was securely strapped to her back, she began ascending the stairs, choosing her level wisely. Too high, she would stick out like a sore thumb. Too low, she wouldn't be able to see a good portion of the stands. She decided to go higher rather than lower, sacrificing concealment for vision. It wouldn't do if she couldn't find her prey, after all.
Two levels from the top, she walked into the sunlight and through the tightly packed stands. Ducking underneath a vendor and pushing a man out of the way, she removed the white cowboy hat from her head and placed it on a nearby post, not wanting to attract attention to herself. Sighing lightly, she sliced away most of her bright orange T-shirt, for it too would draw too much attention. She didn't remove her bright red boots, however, for she reasoned that they were hidden behind the seat in front of her.
"Where are you…" she wondered, scanning the stands before her. "Voluntas Carnae."
She closed her eyes and inhaled, searching for anything that stood out. When she opened her eyes, she began scanning the crowd for the glint of a scope or the barrel of a rifle aimed at her.
Suddenly, a barrage of bullets echoed out, causing the audience to roar in approval. The roars swiftly transformed into cries of surprise as giant red letters began appearing in the stands. She quickly yanked her new rifle from its strap and put it next to her cheek, using the scope to see what was happening. Mutilated bodies lined the stands, blood freely pouring from a multitude of wounds. The blood coalesced into letters, the letters became words, and the words eventually formed a giant red taunt.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," she read, frowning in disgust. Adjusting the lenses, she analyzed the direction of the blood spatter and, running through a series of calculations, determined the approximate location of her opponent. Unfolding the legs that formed the stand and placing them on a vacant seat, she crouched down and looked through the lenses, slowly scouring the stands for the gunner.
"Found you," she murmed as she spotted the man, who was laughing maniacally as fired upon the bystanders. This was something that she would not tolerate. She quickly ran through every option and came up with a plan. Taking careful aim, she peered through the lenses and tightened her grip on the trigger. "Saggita Diania!"
The recoil sent the rifle smashing into her cheek, breaking it with a loud crack. She gritted her teeth and gave a muted scream of pain, putting a hand to her wounded face. Falling backwards on her rear, she rolled on the ground, wishing that the pain would go away. She needed to get up and claim her victory. So, forcing her way through the pain, she staggered to her feet, grabbed her hat, strapped her rifle to her back, and stumbled over to the slide, slumping against the edge.
After waiting for the pain to fade away slightly, she climbed to her feet and rolled into the slide, beginning her rapid descent to the sands below. She used the precious time to recover some more, waiting as the throbbing pain began to fade away. Then, just as she was about to reach the slowing section of the slide, she leapt into the air, using her momentum to fly onto the sands. However, her legs crumpled as she hit the ground, sending her tumbling to the sands.
"I'm okay!" she called to her crew upon hearing their shocked cries. Planting a hand on the ground and pushing herself to her feet, she spun her rifle by the trigger guard and tucked it back onto her bandolier, strapping it in securely. Listening to the audience roaring its approval, she nodded and turn to view her handiwork.
When she caught sight of her opponent, she froze. He was peeking out from behind a familiar green-white battleaxe, a victorious grin plastered onto his face. Madaxe had, at the last possible second, placed Basilikos in front of the gunner, protecting him from any of her gunfire. She growled to herself, knowing that she had run out of options. "You are dead!" she seethed.
"Fuck you!" her opponent shouted, training his guns upon her. "I ain't gonna kill ya, so when you lose, I'll be the first to ride!"
Cassandra broke into a sprint, ducking and weaving across the sands so as to make her harder to hit. Bullets whizzed past her, occasionally skimming across her skin. As she drew closer, the bullets began coming closer and closer to her flesh, but she didn't care. Nothing mattered but the kill. She would have preferred to shoot Madaxe's hand and force him to drop Basilikos, but she didn't want to risk her navigator's wrath. Who knew what the man would do if denied of his proper revenge.
"Ira Iunonia!" She began shooting as well, forcing him to duck behind Basilikos once more, for her shots were far more accurate than his. She reached the other side of the arena and vaulted over the stone barrier, landing right in front of Madaxe. He gave a cruel smile as he swung Basilikos at her, but her determination was too great. She leapt back onto the stone barrier and pushed off, easily dodging the massive blade.
"Why aren't you dead?" the gunner screamed, aiming his pistols at her.
"Because I will be Pirate Queen," she hissed as she landed behind him before he could fire. "I will not die before then!"
"There's no way that you'll be-"
His sentence was cut off as she placed her pistol at the back of his head and fired, sending a geyser of bone and brain flying through his shattered jaw.
Having completed her fight, Cassandra realized that she would have to get out of there as quickly as possible. Madaxe looked livid and was obviously fully intent on beheading her right then and there. So, without further ado, she jumped over the gunner's corpse and hit the sands running, still not wanting to rob Damien of his revenge. She could hear Madaxe's heavy breathing and footfalls behind her. She poured all of her energy into running, knowing that he would catch up in no time.
She was quite suddenly hurled forward through the air as something exploded directly behind her. Craning her head around, she realized that she was heading directly towards the stone stands of the colosseum. She braced for impact and prayed that she wouldn't break her neck.
What she was not prepared for was landing on something reasonably soft. Her head spinning furiously, she gazed around, trying to figure out what was going on. Her gaze fell upon a pair of familiar electric blue eyes glittering with excitement. "Nice job, Captain!" Lyn chirped. "Did you really have to kill him?"
Cassandra's brow crinkled in confusion as her mind tried to process what had just happened. Looking around, she saw that Lyn had caught her and that they were currently sitting on a stone floor littered with spherical metal bullets. Cassandra stared up at the mostly-exposed woman, her mind slightly rattled from the explosion. "What happened?"
Raven flickered over to the pirate captain, staring hard at her cheek. "You need a cold compress for that bruise and bandages for your injuries."
The pirate captain waved it aside and asked her question again. "What happened?"
A dry chuckle came from behind her. Craning her neck around, she found a semi-conscious musician with bandages on his hand and legs. "The gunner tried to kill us. Hothead did what you told him and Raven bandaged me up."
"Ah. That explains a lot."
As one, they raised their eyes to the battlefield. Climbing out of Lyn's arms, she rested heavily on the stone barrier and gazed out across the sands. Damien was climbing out of a massive crater, his entire body save for his left arm flaming brightly. His metal wings were partially folded in plain sight, giving him a fearsome appearance. Farther across the arena, Madaxe was rising to his feet, looking even more furious than before.
"Time to see what he's made of," she said aloud.
\\'/.\\'/.\\'/.\\'/.\\
"Oi!" Damien roared as he stomped out of his crater with earthshaking footsteps. "I toldja, yer figh' is with me, corpsefuckin' cumguzzler!"
The enormous pirate had recovered from his rather brief flight and was moving steadily, clutching his mighty battleaxe in white-knuckled fists. "Today seems like a good day fer ya to die, crippled whelp!"
Giving a loud roar at the mention of his useless arm, Damien flicked out his working digits, fifteen talons zipping into the sunlight. The crazed pirate bounded forward, intent on finishing off his opponent as quickly as possible. The other cunt began running as well with the exact same goal in mind. The two fighters met in the middle with a bone-rattling crash, whipping up a miniature sandstorm and hiding the combatants from the audience. Gritting his teeth, Damien pushed as hard as he could, trying to gain the upper hand. The other pirate growled right back at him, trying to force the battleaxe closer to the man's throat. Then, all the concentrated power forced the two men apart, sending them flying out of the cloud of sand. Damien skidded for a few meters along the sands, using his claws to slow himself down. Realizing that the sandstorm was shielding him from view, he fully extended his wings and used them to boost his jump into the air, aiming to catch the Shichibukai's son off guard.
"Diavolo Falcone!" With a loud cry, he fell like a meteor, plowing directly into the unsuspecting man and forcing him to the ground. Using his good hand, he lifted the battleaxe up and threw it aside. "I've got ya now, cocksucker!"
"Lightnin' Strike!" Even his reflexes couldn't prevent the set of brass knuckles slamming into his chin, dazing him and lifting him into the air. He could feel the strain on his metal bones from the sheer force of the blow. The massive pirate got to his feet as Damien landed on the ground, rubbing his jaw in amazement. "Whassa matter, runt?" he taunted, lumbering over to the downed navigator. "Didn't think th' big bad pirate'd stand a chance wit'out 'is axe? Get fucked!"
Damien scrambled to his feet, a pleased grin plastered on his face. "This is fun! Diavolo Toro!"
Despite their size or weight, they began throwing a flurry of punches at each other, sending shockwave after shockwave rippling though the sands. Although Damien's strength was far outmatched, his sheer tenacity and destructive force was channeled into every punch, enabling him to keep up with the powerful corsair. His biggest weakness was his left arm, which left his side vulnerable to attack.
Indeed, when the larger pirate realized that he had the advantage, he executed a series of erratic punches, finishing with a vice grip on the navigator's crippled arm. Swinging the wounded fighter around, he launched Damien into the side of the arena, sending him smashing deep into the stone stands. For a moment, neither of them moved. Damien could feel his anger overwhelming him. His mind was slowly consumed as it reached its peak.
Red.
He watched as if he were merely a spectator, somebody residing inside his head and looking out through his eyes, but unable to control the body's movements.
Red.
He had thought that his true boodlust would only emerge around Marines. Clearly, he was mistaken.
Red.
He erupted from the stands with incredible speed, slamming into his opponent's side and cracking no few ribs.
Red.
He watched as his body used his flaming, clawed right hand to cut while pirouetting around so he could use his left arm like a flail. He was thankful for getting his armored black glove on his left hand. It made his ordinarily useless arm into a deadly mace.
Red.
He reveled each blow dealt by him and winced at each blow dealt to him. Time became a nuisance, something to be ignored during the battle. There was only each clash, each blow, and nothing else.
Red.
Somewhere along the line, the battleaxe had been picked up by again and sliced a gash across his right eye. Now, not only was blood clouding his mind, it was also literally preventing him from seeing clearly. Damien realized that his lips were drawn back in a terrible grin, fangs glinting brightly as he bit off a chunk of Madaxe's arm. He threw his head back and swallowed, laughing at the disgusted expression on his opponent's face. He used his clawed toes to carve deep gashes into the man's leg, hoping to cripple him. No such luck. He was sent flying with a kick to the ribs, but he merely shook it off and stood back up. He was reaching his limits, but his will and adrenaline kept him on his feet.
Red.
His madness was only increasing as the battle progressed. He would win no matter cost. Fuck everything other than victory. He knew his captain felt the same way. He would fight for her and he would fight for her dream. But most of all, he would fight because it was what he liked to do. And he was very good at it.
Red.
Then, something truly unexpected happened. His vision swam and the world dimmed as the battleaxe's poll slammed into the back of his head. He had never thought his body would give in while his opponent still stood. This was different from passing out due to exhaustion or loss of blood when victory was his. He couldn't give up here, wouldn't give up here. It was as if he was falling down a never-ending well, slamming painfully into the sides as he went down.
Black.
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Cassandra winced as Damien stumbled to the ground, eyes glazing over as he fell back into the sands. Madaxe gave a victorious roar as he raised Basilikos above his head, aiming to decapitate the berserker in one blow. She instinctively raised her rifle and aimed it at the enormous pirate. No matter how insane her navigator acted, she wasn't going to lose him. She wasn't going to lose any of her crew. She was going to keep all of them alive. That was her charge, her duty as captain.
She was about to pull the trigger when a bandaged hand fell upon the barrel of her rifle, knocking it downwards. She turned in confusion to the weary musician. "Do you want to see him killed?"
Alexander shook his head stubbornly. "Have faith. He will be the best fighter in the world for a reason."
A surprised shout drew her attention back to the arena. Glaring through half-lidded eyes, Damien had somehow grabbed the battleaxe by the blade just as it was about to sever his neck, his arm never wavering in the slightest. Madaxe poured all of his might into bringing the battleaxe down, but Damien didn't budge. In one sudden move, he sent it spinning from its owner's grip, rolled over to it, and threw it like a hatchet.
Madaxe's left arm was cleaved cleanly in two from knuckle to shoulder.
Cassandra merely stared on in horror as Damien leapt onto the large pirate and proceeded to smash his fist into Madaxe's body again and again, blood liberally coating his arm. "I thought he was unconscious," she muttered. "How could he still fight?"
"Knocking him out is only the first step," Alexander said, which didn't really clarify anything. "Hothead, that's enough! He's learned his lesson!"
Damien continued his brutal beating, oblivious to everything around him. After setting his hand on fire, he began viciously tearing at the man with his claws, slinging blood and gore all over the surrounding sands. Cassandra felt slightly sick, never having suspected that she would see her navigator's berserk bloodlust first hand. She suddenly jerked her head around, remembering that Lyn was there as well. Her face a delicate lime green, the first mate had turned away from the gruesome sight and was taking deep breaths to keep herself from throwing up.
"Listen, Lyn…" she began, unsure of how to proceed.
"You don't have to say anything, Captain. I'm just glad he's on our side." Though the first mate put on a brave front, the disgust and terror in her eyes belied her words.
Cassandra sighed. "Remember that, no matter what he's doing, he would never hurt us."
"Ah, Captain?" Alexander piped up. "I'm not so sure that last one is entirely true."
"What makes you say that?" Cassandra asked, turning back towards the arena sands.
To her surprise, Damien was striding purposefully in their direction, apparently satisfied with the thoroughness of his revenge. His eyes were no longer dull with near-consciousness. Instead, a deadly glare was locked on Raven, who was crouching in the shadows behind them. Raven merely stared at him expectantly. Eyes widening, Cassandra leapt between them, holding her hands out wide. "Damien, stop. Raven is not your enemy."
He didn't stop, forcing her to circle around him. Quirking her mouth with irritation, she reached out and grabbed his shoulder, but he kept moving and dragged her with him.
"Damien," she said as she dug her heels into the ground. "Listen to me. Even though she nearly cut your throat open, Raven has still tended to your wounds and helped protect us from you when you go off the deep end."
He only growled, wiping blood out of his right eye as he walked.
"Fucking pay attention to me," Cassandra snapped. "Let's face it: you are a handful. And after what we just saw, we need all the help we can get when it comes to calming you down." He stopped so suddenly that she ran into him. After picking herself up off the sands, she walked around and stared up at his partially closed eyes, at the blood trickling form the corner of his mouth and from his grievous wounds. Instead of his previous uncontrolled rage, he looked irritated and confused.
"Captain?"
"Hush, Lyn." Cassandra continued on, unabated. "Now she won't be here for much longer, so just learn to let things go sometimes."
"Captain…"
"Alexander, be quiet. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is-"
"Cassandra."
"What?"
Raven didn't say another word, merely pointing to a spot above Cassandra's shoulder. Cassandra released her grip on Damien's shoulder and spun back around, the rest of her lecture fading away as she saw what they had been trying to warn her about. Somehow, Madaxe had climbed to his feet and managed to lift the battleaxe Basilikos in his only remaining arm. He ran alarmingly quickly despite his fatal injuries, pouring every last bit of energy into his final attack. She shouted something indiscernible, trying to get Damien to turn around, but to no avail. The navigator merely coughed, expelling crimson mist from his lungs, and bent over slightly. He looked to be on his last leg, with barely enough energy left to move his tremendously heavy body any more.
Madaxe gave a triumphant roar as he swung Basilikos around with all of his might. "Come with me to Hell!"
Time seemed to slide to a stop. Noise faded away. Ever movement became a slow blur. She could see ever drop of sweat on Madaxe's brow, every speck of blood on his form, and the frantic glint in his eyes. Faintly, as if hearing distant whispers, Cassandra heard three words. "Minervae Manica Nigra!"
How will it all end? Tune in next time for another chapter of the Black Glove Pirates!