CHAPTER 22

FIGHT OR DIE

Mikage-me07:

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This place definitely defined the word isolated. It was a new version of a Jurassic park...or maybe it was the dreaded engineered-to-be-cuddly-but-took-off-on-its-own Dinosaur Park. You never can tell who's going to turn their backs on you, the ungrateful scaly hides.

But hey! That's not the issue here! What did you get off track for? What? What? Whatever. What I'm trying to say is that the death race participants are doing great- brambles, thorns and pineapple marshmallows and all that. They simply won't back down. I do admire their spirits, but for the meantime, I would be sorry to tell you that if I were them, I'd be searching my way back to the starting line.

Remember Tarzan and his jungle friends? Yes, of course you do. Who would forget that a hunk like him was part gorilla? And who on earth would believe that the renowned Vongola was slowly turning into prototype Tarzans? They'd be like, what? One-fourth gorilla? Certainly gross! But because I'm only a humble pen servant of yours, I'd better not complain and get n with it.

…ooo00800ooo…

Brambles and thorns were the new Vongola fashion nowadays. It clung to their clothes and skins and stayed there, clinging with all their might, if the thorns and brambles had any might. Those that caught on their clothes brought heaven to earth by tearing the fabrics in unjustly places and exclusively displayed the majestic creatures the Vongola were for me and moi (okay, I get it, you get your fair share too).

The air was humid and very musty, causing their chests to heave extra harder than they had intended to. Saving their breath and energy was one of their unspoken laws of survival. Trees of varied kinds towered well above their heads, blocking the sight of the sun, plunging them into near darkness. Soon enough, their breaths were overly ragged that their chests and sides felt like tearing. Their clothes were nearly reduced into rags, but to them it was nothing but royal fashions on their bodies.

Aside from their unevenly bruised, scratched and itching body, their leg muscles also began to ache. And it did not help that their shoes and sandals were so submerged into mud a while before that it began to harden and add an extra inch to their heels, making it harder to lift their feet at all.

And if any of you would be pleased to hear this from me, be glad that it was not the Vongola only who was suffering here, the same goes for the Varia too.

The Varia may have had a humungous headstart thanks to Mammon's cunning brain but they used it all up when they fell down into a deep trench. They could have avoided such a shameful fate if they were free to use their flames, but it did not help that a herd of wild boars were hell-bent on winning a jungle-style death race with them. They were so occupied trying not to get eaten by wild animals that they missed out the sudden drop of a trench in front, which was also slightly hidden from view by a thick lump of wild bush.

And so they fell, and bickered against each other ever since. But time was limited- the clock was ticking. They began to laboriously struggle against the stubborn cliff face that offered no handhold of any sort. The cliff face that they were facing at the moment was curved inwardly, making it impossible to climb. They huffed and puffed and swore at the rock face but the rock remained solid and cold against them. Squalo even tried to knock down the wall of rock - which means here that he challenged it with probably a traditional Varia- styled technique- but ended up having to nurse his big throbbing toe. They couldn't possibly remain here for any longer than they were at the minute. They had to get out. And fast.

So they put their heads together- not the physical bumping of heads type but the thinking together type. They sat their bottoms on the dirty ground and clacked their mind gears furiously. Until…they heard voices coming from somewhere above them.

"Oy, octopus-head, are we lost? What kind of guide are you? Kufufufu, useless git." Said a faint voice far above them.

"You talk as if you're of any help, you pineapple-head!" shouted back a louder voice.

"Shut up! You sound shrill as a hen. Kufufufu. Maybe I should call you something chicken in nature instead." An argument immediately broke out, then in turned into a fight involving bombs, a trident, and a stray rock that unfortunately fell on Levi's head, which raised a huge and pulsing red mound. Bel had clamped his hand over Levi's mouth beforehand to avoid him from alerting their opponents above. Why did Bel cover Levi's mouth when he could have pushed him away from the falling rock? Bel's extra devilish grin was the obvious answer.

The Varia strained their hearing, craning their necks to do so just to get a good account of what was happening above. But Bel had clamped his hand too hard on Levi's face, causing the other man to adopt Leon's skill in color- changing. He turned red, then green, then blue, and finally when his hue couldn't get any blacker, Mammon noticed him and indicated Bel to let go. Bel did but it was one mistake. Levi took in a huge gulp of air, trying to fill up his lungs to the brim. And by doing so, he made a sound of some big balloon being inflated. Bel grabbed him again and held him in a death clamp, not caring if Levi truly died this time. Too late.

"What's that? Did you hear that?" Gokudera spoke in a hushed voice while staring ashen faced in all directions. He even forced his neck to do a near three hundred and sixty degrees turn.

"Kufufufu, scared, aren't you? Your hair couldn't stand much straighter."

Gokudera opened his mouth to protest, but was silenced simultaneously by Hibari and Yamamoto. All five of them stood transfixed on their spot, too anxious to let a breath escape from their lungs.

"Do you think it's some wandering spirit? Oh no, I did not bring any charms."

"Silence! I'll bite you to death." But Gokudera was already getting worked up on chanting prayers and making strange hand gestures which he prayed would work to ward off evil.

"Extreme! Really now, octopus- head, it's just the wind!" Ryohei banged on his chest with a loud thud, letting off a massive wave of his breath.

"That's just gross. The wind does not smell of raw onions, Ryohei-san." Yamamoto covered his nose in disgust.

"Extreme! Won't you agree that it's for training…"

And the group above continued to pray, give off warm smelling raw onion breath, and exchange death threats while Mammon's mind continued to whirl on endless possibilities of getting them out of the pit that they were in. Finally. He grinned.

"Okay, if you want to get out of here, here's what you'll have to do."

…ooo00800ooo…

"Spirits shouldn't be disturbed! They should be left alone as they are, let's get out of here before it's too late!" exclaimed the storm guardian, who was obviously shaking.

"Silence! I'll bite you to death," was the comeback.

A strong wind blew so suddenly that their hit man nerves went full boom at the feel of cold air powerfully pressing against their bodies. They were startled but still managed to draw out their own weapons and formed a tight circle, their backs towards each others'. If the others drew out a weapon or two, Gokudera drew out dozens.

Mammon silently laughed as he carefully inched his mist of green smoke towards the defensive group who vainly searched for the enemy.

Second, Mammon silently signaled at Bel to release his threads that held heavy fake leaves and threw them upward, towards their circle of competitors. Someone above him cursed, much to his delight. Then, at the accurate timing, Mammon released a forceful gust of sound- making wind directly over Gokudera's right ear.

It was too much for Gokudera to bear, so he screamed for all his worth and threw his bombs disorderly. The Vongola saw it coming and ducked for cover. Bel saw a bomb falling slowly downwards towards them and used a thread to catch it and gently distance it safely away from his group and towards the rock face, just as Mammon had told him to.

Luckily, it worked. There was a loud explosion and the rock face crumbled in an earth quaking manner until it was like an avalanche of stones. But his group was standing safely away from the cliff, and as the cloud of dust cleared, he could see that the cliff had crumbled to a neat slope, safe enough to allow them their freedom by using its slope to climb upwards with little effort. Without further ado, the Varia climbed.

…ooo00800ooo…