Sonic Hill 2: DX

Chapter 24: The Reverse Will

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The meat locker was just as cold as the freezer before it, but it was also twice as big, and dark. Giant slabs of meat were suspended in the air by hangers lined across the ceiling, providing a hiding place for Miles if things got crazy - and he knew they probably would. Unfortunately, this meant Eggman had a hiding place too, and that was not good, not good at all. The young fox stood in the center of the room right now, realizing that doing that was a very stupid thing to do all too late to turn back and hide. Now, the other man could easily shoot him in any location from behind one of the meat slabs if he chose to.

"Shit…" the fox whispered, looking around for wherever the man could be. Eggman was nowhere to be found. There were four rows of meat slabs total, two on one half of the room and the other two on the other half. There was a decently large open space between them. The other man could be hiding just about anywhere…

"Do you know what it does to you, Miles!?" He heard Eggman's voice echo throughout the room. The ever-moving magnification of it off of the ice-sheeted walls made it impossible to identify exactly where he was.

"What!?" Miles asked. He had no other choice but to communicate.

"When you're hated! Picked on! Spit on just because of the way you look, or because you don't fit their retarded definition of perfect!? After you've been made fun of your whole fucking life!?"

"Yes," Miles admitted, trying to deal with him. Highschool, like for many others, was not a very pleasant moment in his life. Naturally, everyone hated him for who and what he was, except for Sonic…so they all hated Sonic too. The hedgehog was only bisexual, but it still meant the same thing to them. Miles felt a lot of the same things the other man must have—woo, what a scary acknowledgement that was—but he knew the difference between right and wrong at least…

"They'd call me a faggot, make fun of my two tails, make me feel miserable…" he said, letting off a little of his misery at the very man who might just end it soon if he wasn't careful. "I hated them so much. But I'd never kill them for it! It's not right to do that…"

"But doesn't it make you feel terrible? Doesn't it make you just wanna die?"

"Yeah…"

"That's why I ran away after I killed that dog!" the fat man shouted from afar. His voice had a slight twist of humor in it. "Ran like a scared little girl! Yeah, I killed him, guilty as charged. You wouldn't believe it. It was fun; he even tried to chew his own guts out like his ancestors! That is…until he died…screaming…pathetically curled into a little ball…the look on his eyes was priceless! Hahahaha! That's what he gets!"

The fox stood frozen in fear, knowing how serious this really was. He was trapped in a room miles from civilization with a madman. A madman who's very angry. A madman with a gun…

"Then his friend, that guy, came after me. So I shot him too! Right in the knee! He screamed more than the dog!"

-BANG!

Miles jumped, let out a small scream, and closed his eyes, expecting to feel a bullet enter his back at any moment. But none came; he opened his eyes and quickly turned around to look at the entrance door where the bullet must of landed. The gluttonous man must have just been trying to scare him with that shot…

"He's gonna have a hard time playing football with what's left of that leg! Hahahahahaha!" Eggman's maniacal laugh bounced and echoed throughout the meat locker.

"You think it's okay to kill people!?" Miles cried as his eyes darted around the room. Wherever Eggman was, the man could see him. "You need help, Eggman!"

"Don't get all holy on me, Miles! This town called you too! Can't you see? You and me are the same; we're…different from everyone else. Don't you understand that!? Well, I guess it doesn't matter. We're all gonna die in this town anyway. So why don't we stop worrying about that. Let's play a little game, shall we Miles? Only one of us is gonna leave this room alive! Let's see just who!"

Footsteps.

Miles whirred around to see Eggman standing behind him with the gun in hand. An insane, inhumanly wide grin spread across his pale white face. "Haha! Come on Miles! Let's party!"

Like in the freezer a minute ago, time practically froze itself for the fox. Moving at a desperately quick yet insanely slow pace, Eggman raised the Luger in his hand up to Miles's chest, about to physically cut out a hole in his heart to match with the mental one. That same rush of blood and adrenalin that Miles felt before shot through his legs, and not an instant too late. The smaller fox jumped out of the way—a split second before the weapon went off—and landed on the cold floor, sliding across its icy surface uncontrollably. It had defiantly worked for the better though, for his path had went right by a crate behind one of the slabs of meat. That terrifying roar of the gun exploded into his ears again. Chunks of ice behind where he was a moment earlier blew up like freezing firecrackers. Reaching his hands out quickly, Miles grabbed onto the crate and slid behind it, narrowly missing an array of bullets in the process.

The wooden crates did little to protect him, for the sharp chunks of lead easily shattered and splintered the edges of them. Still, they had yet to kiss or bury themselves into his flesh, to his eternal relief. Three misaimed bullets later, the gunfire suddenly stopped, and he immediately assumed the man must be reloading. Quickly, he stood up, handgun raised and ready to shoot the man down if he had to or at least stop him. Eggman moved out of the way just in time though, missing two of the bullets as he sprinted surprisingly fast for his weight to behind a slab of meat.

Miles said something, but he couldn't really tell what it was – he'd been too focused on the man to even acknowledge his own voice. Perhaps that was a good thing, for it gave him enough time to duck behind the crate just in time to dodge two returned bullets by the fat man across the room. The radical sounds the gunfight created were overwhelming, and the scared fox was trying his best not to do anything remotely stupid or he'd be as good as dead.

"You can't hide forever, Miles!" Eggman shouted from afar, his voice being tailed by two more gunshots. A chunk of the crate by Miles's large orange-yellow ear splintered and blew off, alerting him that the block of wood wouldn't hold out much longer. He had no other choice but to run.

Springing to his feet, Miles sped up the room; running along the wall and hearing more gunshots dangerously close behind him. The rows of meat provided the thin barriers protecting him from the led, making him very glad they were there in the first place. Clumsily, he slipped on the ice in his mad dash and cried out when he fell to the floor, sliding across is even faster than when he was running. The back wall was only a few feet ahead now, and if he ran into it head first it wouldn't be pretty. As fast as he could, he spun around on the ground, putting his feet to the wall and pushing. He slid back the way he came until he grabbed onto one piece of meat and stumbled up, almost slipping over in the process like he was trying on ice skates for the first time.

'Only a few bullets left…' he thought with despairing vulnerability. He didn't know exactly how many were left in his gun, but it had to be less than ten. Maybe five or six…

He noticed the gunshots had ceased, which means the other man must be reloading again. Miles moved out from behind the meat, aiming across the room and expecting to see his enemy standing there.

But Eggman was gone.

'What?'

He almost let out a scream when he felt the nozzle of Eggman's Luger push against his cheek. With lightning quick reflexes, he grabbed the weapon and pushed it out of his face. Just in time too, because that moment Eggman fired. The bullet ricochet off the wall, almost hitting both of them, but not breaking their concentration enough to stop their now hand to hand battle. Miles tried his best to keep the gun out of his face, holding it away, but it was not easy. Eggman not only had longer arms than him but was also over a foot taller, giving him a distinct advantage. In unison they let out grunts of frustration and anger, until Eggman used his free hand and punched the younger one in the stomach. Doing this made Miles lose his grip and fall down onto his pained back.

Grinning broadly, Eggman aimed down to shoot the fox in the head, but before he could fire again Miles kicked his leg out and hit the slab of meat beside them. The slabs hanger moved across the ceiling, hitting Eggman with its load and knocking him to the floor too. The deadly weapon in his hand flew out and landed on the floor a few yards away.

They both glanced at each other, and then at the weapon. Eggman immediately got up and dived for it, but a second before he was able to grab it a loud bang rung out and the Luger hopped off the floor, bouncing even farther back until it landed in the dark corner on the other side of the room.

Miles immediately fired his weapon again, but missed the large fat man by quite a few feet when Eggman jumped and slid on his feet across the floor up to him. He grabbed the fox's arm and threw it up in the air, causing Miles to lose his grip on the weapon. It landed on the floor somewhere else, but he couldn't tell exactly where – he was too focused on the maniac attacking him at the moment. Eggman's fist connected with his face, sending a wave of pain crashing into him so hard he almost fell over. Before he knew it, the taller man was no longer grabbing onto him and already running towards where his weapon must have landed. If Eggman got hold of that, he knew he was dead. In a very animal-like fashion, Miles lunged at the man, but he'd reacted too slowly and only landed on the floor right behind him. Eggman's foot was not out of reach though, and before he got away Miles grabbed onto the man's boot and twisted it.

A cry of pain emitted from Eggman's lips and he fell flat on his face. Before he even hit the ground, Miles was back up and running for the gun. Repeating the same technique the fox used, Eggman grabbed onto his leg and held tight. It was Miles's turn to fall, and he did, landing on the cold floor hard. He'd come to almost expect that, and immediately kicked the lunatic behind him in the face. Eggman still managed to get up though, but instead of diving for the weapon a second time, he turned and ran back to the opposite end of the meat locker. Doing this had saved his life, for Miles grabbed the handgun a few feet ahead, spun around, and opened fire on the running man. It was now vise versa of what it had been before; this time Eggman running away and barely managing to dodge the extremely fast bullets. Some of the ammo engraved itself into the slabs of meat, while others chose the wall instead. Only a few bullets were fired before Miles heard that intensely dismaying click of the empty chamber.

"Fuck!" he cried. Throwing the now useless gun behind him, he reached around and pulled out the equally useless rifle. It had no ammo left, he knew, thus meaning no real way to defend himself. And if Eggman got a hold of that Luger…

"Eeeeyaaaaaah!"

The young fox jumped when a battle cry erupted from not too far away. And suddenly, Eggman was only a few feet in front of him, holding a long and deadly samurai sword in his grasp. Screaming, Miles held the rifle in front of his face, using it as a shield against the man's surprising new weapon. It worked, but the force of the blade against the stick of metal in his hands sent him stumbling backwards, instinctively lowering the rifle in the process. Dangerously swiftly, and with amazing agility, Eggman swung the blade vertically, cutting a small amount of flesh and fur off of Miles's furry chest. A small line of blood appeared there, but only a little. Had the tip of the weapon been much closer, or had Eggman's nearly professional swing been faltered a bit, Miles knew it probably would have been fatal.

Falling back to the floor, Miles immediately rolled out of the way, avoiding a third swing from his combatant, this one horizontally smashing into the ice mere inches away from where he was a second ago. Extremely quickly, Miles rolled so he was lying on his chest, put his hands to the floor, and pushed up while spinning his twin tails simultaneously. Doing this caused him to stand up straight again lightning quick, which gave him enough time to block another swing from Eggman's katana. Miles kicked the fat man where it hurts, the result being the now groaning man leaning forward for a nice punch. Miles did that, switching hands with the rifle and swinging his right fist. He felt a pleasant but painful smack as it connected with Eggman's small face.

For a moment he wondered if this was how the bullies at school manhandled the insane man. And for an even shorter moment he wondered if he'd ever swung a punch that hard or accurate in his entire life.

Eggman stumbled to the left, a small trace of blood spraying out of his oversized pink nose, but Miles didn't give him a chance to get free before delivering another blow. He smashed the butt of the rifle into the man's back, sending Eggman falling to the floor while groaning in pain.

Amazingly quickly, Eggman jumped back up and spun around, swinging and then letting go of the katana in his hand. Miles side-stepped out of the way just in time to dodge the attack, feeling the wind as the blade swung past him in like a spiked star. Its insane journey ended when it swung itself into a piece of the meat, cutting it off and letting it fall to the floor in a heap. Miles's eyes widened when he felt a very thin cut on his cheek, which a drop of blood formed around. Looked like the tip of the weapon had just hit him after all, but like before, not enough to be fatal.

He was so shocked by the array of near-death experiences that it took him a little too long to notice Eggman was now running to re-equip the blade. Miles broke into a sprint, running alongside the man till they both reached the katana at the same time. Eggman was the quicker one though, and stomped on the end of the blade's handle, making it flip up into the air and land in his hand. He stabbed the blade forward at the fox, but Miles dodged it just in time. The weapon stabbed into the slab of meat behind him. Moments later it was no longer there and the meat was on the floor as Eggman did a spinning horizontal swing, cutting the beef off but missing Miles's head entirely as the fox ducked under his attack. With even more amazing agility, Eggman turned the katana and attempted to vertically bring it down upon Miles's skull, but the fox held up his rifle to counter that attack right before it would have hit him.

Both let out more grunts. Eggman continued to swing the weapon down or across the fox, each time being countered as Miles blocked its path with his rifle. The fox's azure blue eyes darted back and forth, frantically searching for an escape. If this continued, he'd be confetti in no time. Eggman suddenly swung the blade horizontally faster and harder than before, and Miles just barely managed to block himself again. But the force of the attack sent the gun flying out of his hand. Miles backed up, jumping and continuously dodging every jab and swing Eggman tried to hit him with. The fat man raised the weapon above his head and tried to slice Miles in two, but the time in which it took for him to bring it down upon the fox gave Miles enough time to run out of the way. And he did, running right past Eggman and up to where the two fallen bunches of meat lay. Spinning around, Miles stared at the man, knowing very well that he was now defenseless. Eggman knew that too, and grinned evilly at that fact.

'Notgoodnotgoodnotgood!' Miles looked left and right rapidly, desperately looking for a way to dodge what was obviously going to be his fatal ambush in a few seconds. His savior lie in the darkness of the corner beyond the lunatic only a few yards in front of him.

'—Eggman's gun!'

Glancing at him, then back at the gun repeatedly, Miles realized Eggman didn't seem to remember it was behind him. If he could just some how get past that blade…

With a deep breath, the fox broke into an insane sprint towards the other man, running directly at him at top speed. Eggman, slightly surprised by the blue-eyed fox's strange reaction, let out a battle cry and swung the sword horizontally. But a second before the blade would have hit its victim, Miles dived down to the ground and slid across the icy floor, sliding right underneath the katana's path. He grabbed the gun in mid slide, rolling around and speeding ahead until his back hit the wall hard, causing him to wince in pain once again.

Eggman turned around and his eyes widened in shock as he saw Miles holding his gun. Hell, it was beyond shock – an indescribable mixture of terror and understanding. Their eyes met for one short moment that seemed to drag on for an eternity. That moment ended the millisecond Miles narrowed his eyes and squeezed the trigger.

-BANG!

Crimson spurt out of Eggman's chest, and he stopped dead in his tracks. A gasp escaped his pale lips as that horrifyingly numb feeling most only feel once enveloped his body. Less than half a second later, the numbness turned into extreme pain, forcing a cry of pure agony from his dried throat. Miles's jaw dropped as he saw blood spittle out of the man's mouth, a look of anguish and fear in his gray eyes. Feeling irony and an unbearable wave of pain, Eggman fell to his knees. His mouth spurted out more and more blood as his dying eyes starred at Miles's shaking figure. Everything suddenly felt hazy, with that darkness slowly surrounding him.

Finally, his face met the cold floor. His body sunk into the darkness: death, and all he heard now was silence.

Silence. Forever.

…

…

…

"…Eggman…?" Miles's shakily asked as he stared at Eggman's now limp body. Blood silently flowed out of the fat mans chest and onto the frozen floor, joining with the blood seeping from his mouth and creating a pool around him. The still living fox's eyes widened. He placed the gun on the floor while stumbling up to his feet. "Eggman…?" He asked again. No response came from the middle-aged man. And none would ever come again.

Placing his hand on the mans back, he turned the body around. Eggman's blank gray eyes stared back up at him. "Eggman!!"

Slowly, he rose to his feet, still not believing he'd ended the life of someone who was alive less than ten seconds ago. It felt a lot different than when he killed the monsters. A lot.

"I…I killed a living being…" Miles stuttered, shock apparent in his slightly high voice. His hand covered his mouth, though he didn't really notice it. Almost silently, he repeated through the cracks between his fingers. "A living being…"

He closed his eyes tightly. It was self-defense. Eggman was crazy and was trying to kill him. He was suffering so much, he was always being made fun of, always being teased, always being rejected. All because he was overweight, they had made his life so miserable until one day the jokes and putdowns drove him over the edge and he killed someone. Then he ran away from the cops, hiding away in this misty town, not knowing he'd be brutally betrayed and murdered by someone he considered an ally. Pity, mixed in with distain filled the fox's senses. Behind all that, there was a steadily growing trace of guilt.

"I'm sorry…" Miles said as his eyes began to water. Biting his lip, he held back the few tears he could shed and kneeled down again, feeling around the man's jacket pockets. As guilty as it made him, he'd have to take whatever items and ammo Eggman had to defend himself from the monsters.

Within Eggman's left jacket pocket, Miles pulled out the Book of Lost Memories. Flipping through the pages a little, he saw that it was still intact. But he wasn't planning on reading it right now; he didn't have the time or patience. He put the book in his carrying bag and examined Eggman's other pockets. Four clips of handgun bullets were within the other pocket, which Miles took and put in his side pack also. He dropped Eggman's gun to the floor. The clip within the Luger was empty; he had fired the last bullet.

The weapons of their now forever finished battle were strewn about the cold silent meat locker like the aftermath of a party gone wrong. It was hard to believe just a moment ago they were battling to the death. Miles picked the katana off the floor beside the man's corpse, swinging it around a few times and admiring the swish it made when it cut through the air. It was heavier than it looked in the movies, but other than that it was a perfect weapon for if he ever ran out of bullets again, so Miles kept it. The sheath to the weapon was fastened around the fat man's body, but Miles managed to take it off and wrap it around his waist – feeling grimly disgusting in doing so. Quickly, he reminded himself he needed to do this if he expected to continue, and then picked up his other two weapons; the empty rifle, which he strapped back around his shoulder, and the empty handgun, which he reloaded and put back in his side-pack. Looking ahead, he saw the set of heavy double doors in the back of the room, which paralleled to the door he'd used to enter. It was time to go.

Miles felt that tidal wave of guilt wash over him again, along with that feeling like his head was about to implode in itself. At the same time, it felt as if all the blood drained out of the back of his brain. But he managed to push those thoughts away, knowing that it was either kill or be killed in this situation. He'd had no other choice.

"Goodbye, Eggman." Miles whispered. Taking one last shaky nervous look at Eggman's chubby egg-shaped corpse, he pushed the double doors open and walked out of the cold tomb of a meat locker.

A weak smile formed on his lips as he finally got to breathe fresh, cold air once again. Fog coated the whole place, for once actually comforting the fox even though its brightness burned his eyes. He was outside again, standing on the wooden docks on the shoreline. It didn't make any sense at all—and things in Sonic Hill rarely did—but after all that trekking through the underground areas, he'd reached the docks only about a hundred meters out and ten feet below the Sonic Hill Historical Society. He couldn't see South Vale from here, but if the fog was cleared he could probably see some of the buildings, not to mention Rosewater Park…

Miles shook his head and tried to stay focused on the matter at hand. Logical and realistic or not, he'd finally reached the docks, and that was all that mattered. The cold air caused him to shiver slightly, but he felt much more comfortable out here. It wasn't much colder than it was inside. Besides, the air was so stogy in the underground passages; here he could finally breathe again.

His still somewhat damp shoes stepped across the wooden boards as he walked along the small harbor. A single rowboat floated stagnantly above the water near the dock's edge, eagerly waiting for its next rider to climb in. He'd have to row all the way across Lake Toluca, which was almost a mile long, but that was okay. At least he was finally getting somewhere. After countless hours in the same section of town, he was finally getting somewhere. Sonic was waiting for him in that hotel across the mass of water, and he had to get there.

A bright light was shining aloof the fog, directly north of where the tired fox stood. A guiding light…

With his head held up high, Miles Prower stepped into the boat and began to silently row.