CHAPTER 67: MAN LOVES, GOD KILLS, PART 3
The human mind and soul house some of the most complex and vague emotions out of all forms of life, and can express them in intricate ways through endless mediums.
One's face and body can are the first among these; giving out the most basic of feelings through expressions and facial movements. One's speech and chirography are the next typically learned; producing words and sentences that delve deeper into thoughts and contemplations. One's ability to create is another that only few have; taking raw materials and making a piece of art that provides an interpretive allegory for what they feel to share that emotion with others.
Though these means of expressing one's inner state are the most peaceful and most acceptable, there is another that is not so constructive in the connection of emotions with one another: Violence. It is the rawest and most destructive of expression, and the one that is known best in all human souls since birth.
Human beings can share their emotions with one another through connections like friendships, but none are so strong in sharing them or as deep as a romantic relationship. It is this special connection that one person feels towards another, that they can truly share all of themselves and be themselves with another.
Arnold and Helga are two such people that have shared that connection, and brought out their own emotions towards one another, but Helga has not been total in what she has shared with Arnold. Keeping secrets from him such as the feigning of her pregnancy, her double identity as Baise-Moi, and her own distrust in his loyalty, this has all culminated into the expression of violence towards one another.
As the expression of violence is the rawest and most destructive towards one another, it has led to its eventual following outcome: Regret. It has led Helga to regret her own actions that led to the fight between one another, and led Arnold to regret their relationship altogether.
Retreating from the scene of their battle, Arnold Shortman moves towards the one place he can find refuge away from his troubles and anger: Home, a place called the Sunset Arms. Running quickly across the rooftops of Hellwood, into the province of Old Hillwood, the place of retreat he seeks out cannot come fast enough to him.
Landing atop the rooftop of the Sunset Arms Boarding Home, he walks to the sunroof just above his room, opening it to step inside and find solace in his room. Even in this sanctuary of the place where he lays his head to sleep, he does not find the peace from the emotion he runs from.
Clenching his fists together in rage, he curses the air at the turmoil that he has suffered through, wishing for his own troubles to end. No matter how much he screams, how much he carries on his fit of anger, his endless rage will never see to its end; a lesson that no man or woman learns during times of such feeling.
Taking what remained of his staff, holding the three pieces of it in his hands, he feels rage in its broken state; cursing Helga for the destruction of the tool to his quest for justice gifted to him by his mentor. Unable to bear to look at its broken state, he tossed the pieces against the wall, leaving them to crash into drywall.
Grabbing hold of various objects around his surroundings, he began throwing them all about the room, not caring where he sent each one or what he threw. Caring only about the task to remove his anger upon the various objects unfortunate enough to be in his way, Arnold only wished to make his anger come to an end.
As he carried on with his rage and outburst, the cuts on his chest and stab wound continued to bleed out, but he was either not willing or not able to take notice to them. Feeling his own strength start to dwindle from him with the painful fight that he had just left behind, the wounds showed no signs of closing any time soon. But, unable to notice the wounds themselvse, all he could think to do was to keep on letting out his anger.
Unable to do so with more acts of violence, he eventually fell to the floor, holding his head into his hands and beginning to cry. The rage and the anger he feels will still not leave him, no matter how many objects he would take his anger out on, nor how much he tried to push away the feelings in his solitary state of weakness.
All he does now, unable to do anything to help himself, is sit still and cry.
His outrage was not spent in complete solitude, however, as his tantrum had brought the attention of his parents; running straight up the stairs to the room to find their son crying, curled into a fetal position. Always quick to provide their son whatever help he may require, as to their duty as his parents, they rushed to him to hold his hands, offering their comfort in his hour of need.
"Hey Arnold? What's wrong?" Miles asked.
"Arnold? Honey, are you okay?" Stella asked.
Pushing his breath through tears, Arnold finally found the strength to reply, speaking out his troubles at last.
"It's Helga... She... She lied about being pregnant..." Arnold said.
Well aware of Helga's lie already, Miles and Stella took discomfort in their son's revelation; both taking guilt in Arnold's current state. The initial thought that came to their heads upon hearing his confession told them to keep their tongues silent from this truth, and they chose to take this course, but only for the reason of letting Arnold speak and only for the moment.
"We had a fight... She destroyed my staff... She... She took so much from me... She told me she was trying to give me hope, and I actually felt it... But I don't have it anymore... I was fighting for her... I loved her... But I don't love her anymore... She ruined so much and broke too much trust between us... She tried to kill me... Just so she could prove that she was better than me... Willing to kill me just to prove her point... I hate her... I HATE HER!" Arnold screamed.
Seeing just how far the once-strong relationship between Arnold and Helga had fallen, the parents could no longer keep themselves silent on their part on the secret kept; needing to share it with their son at last to try to ease his mind. They know it will only lessen his opinion of them, but such is the price they are willing to pay for his healing.
"She never told me all this time... Never told anybody about it... She lied to you, too..." Arnold said.
"Arnold... She told us." Stella said.
Not believing what he was hearing, Arnold took his head out of his hands and pointed it to Stella's, questioning her statement further.
"What?" Arnold asked.
"Helga told us about how her results came back from the clinic, and how they said she was sterile. We're sorry we didn't tell you." Miles said.
After being betrayed by the one he proposed to be his wife, Arnold now felt betrayed by his own parents; an emotion far more damning than his falling out between himself and Helga. Raising up from the ground, he snatched himself away from his parents, needing to keep his distance from them.
"WHAT?! Why didn't you tell me?! Why did you let Helga just lie to me?!" Arnold shouted.
"Arnold... It wasn't easy to do it, believe us, but we were just trying help her. Try to understand, she's never had any real parental figures before. She was neglected and practically raised by no one, you know that. She's always had trust issues with other people. We were just trying to be people she could trust. To actually give her parents who cared for her." Stella said.
"But letting her lie to me about that?! Do you know what that's like, thinkning you have a child coming into your life, but it was all a lie?!"
"I don't, I was fortunate enough to have you. But even though we wanted to tell you, it wasn't our place. It should've come from her, and we were trying to convince her to tell you. To try to trust you more. But she just couldn't."
"What, because of Lila? Did she happen to mention to you that I apologized right away about that?"
"She told us about... that. It was... very hard to hear that you would do something like that, but we know you at least showed remorse to her. We know that you're not someone who would treat a woman like that. But you're not someone who has all the answers to everything. I was hoping you would at least learn that from your... incident."
"Excuse me? I need to learn something?! Not the person who lied about being pregnant and destroyed every bit of trust I had for her, no, it's me who's in the wrong?! Me, who's been given powers by the Green Eyes to fix this city, been taught more than any other person on this Earth ever could, been doing it ever since I was a kid?!"
"You're not perfect, Arnold! You're a good kid, and you always have been, but even you make mistakes. You need to admit that once and a while. You go on and on about how you're the big savior of the city, but you aren't meant to fix all the world's problems. You're still human, and you're still just a boy sometimes, too."
"'HUMAN'?! I'M NOT HUMAN ANYMORE! I'M BETTER THAN THAT NOW! I NEED TO BE! I HAVE TO BE! PEOPLE ARE COUNTING ON ME! WHY DON'T YOU GET THAT?!"
Stella looked to her son's angry rant with a look of disapproval; realizing that her own reasoning was having no effect on him, and his lesson would not be learned. Though the very contemplation of the thought brought her just as much displeasure from speaking it, she ultimately let it out from her mouth.
"And how exactly has that been working for you? Being better than everyone? How many of your friends are dead now? How many crippled? How many hate you? How many left you? How many did you drive away? All just so you could be better? Maybe you were better than most kids your age as far as emotional maturity goes, but that doesn't last forever. No different than being the tallest kid in kindergarten. You still need to grow up eventually. You know, I'm not sure whether you or Helga are the least mature. Helga at least has a reason to be the way she is. What's your excuse for being so righteous?" Stella asked.
The mother's attempt at a tough reprimand did not take kindly to the son; Arnold beginning to feel personally attacked from her line of thought. Having already had his fill of physical abuse, there was no room left in his head nor his heart for any more shred of mental abuse, and voiced his own discontent.
"I should have left you in San Lorenzo." Arnold said.
Hearing such a horrible thing come out of the mouth of her son, Stella let out a gasp, feeling tears start to come from her eyes at the implications of Arnold's statement. No longer wishing to face his parents any longer, Arnold turned around and began walking back to the ladder to the sunroof, preparing to seek solitude on the roof of the Sunset Arms.
Though Stella was silent in taking the angry dismissal from her son, Miles was not so passive in allowing his son to speak out in such a way, especially not to his own mother. Walking back up to Arnold as he prepared to leave, the generally good-natured and oafish Miles grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him around to force an apology out of him.
"Hold it. I know you don't say the right things when you're mad, but there's no excuse to say that. Not to your own mother. You apologize right now." Miles said.
"Take your hands off me, you son of a bitch!" Arnold said.
Taking rage from Arnold's insult, Miles pushed him against the wall; his patience with his son taken to its limit. Swatting off his grabbing hands, Arnold gripped his own father by his neck, squeezing down on it and beginning to choke him, bringing him falling to his knees as his breath left him.
Horrified by Arnold's violent treatment of his own father, Stella's small falling of tears turned to mania, expressed with crying and screaming for the violence to end.
"STOP IT! STOP IT NOW! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" Stella screamed.
Hearing his mother's frantic screaming and crying, as well as watching his own father choke under his hold, Arnold's mind found itself snapped out of the rage it was blinded under, realizing what he was physically doing. Releasing his grip on his father's neck, he snatched his hand away, pulling it away with as if it were near a venomous animal about to bite.
Falling back and coughing, Miles began catching his breath again, crawling into the arms of Stella as she kneeled down and pulled him back to protect him. Keeping a tight hold on her husband, Stella looked back to Arnold with teary eyes not looking on a son that she loved, but upon a monster with fear and terror.
Looking back at the eyes reflecting the display of the blight he was becoming, Arnold's own eyes began to grow teary; regretful of the violence he displayed to his parents. He realized that not only had he pushed away and destroyed the valuable relationship he shared with Helga, but was slowly starting to bring that same form of destruction home to his parents.
Unable to be looked upon any longer, Arnold made his way back up to the rooftop of the Sunset Arms, finding solitude to be away from his troubles. For Miles and Stella, the troubles were just starting to accrue, with both beginning to fully process what had just happened between themselves and their son.
Placing her face into Miles' shoulder, Stella let out her sorrows by form of crying, where Miles himself held her hand as he caught his breath.
Taking to the roof of the Sunset Arms Boarding Home, Arnold Shortman seeks out a place of silence where he can work out the complex emotions and issues that still plague his mind. Having more than his fair share of troubles at this night, he is burdened again with more problems, and some far closer to home than he cares to have or ever hoped to have.
Looking at his hands, he stares in disbelief that they even had the capability of doing what he had done: Choke his own father. Having spent so much of his life wishing for his parents to return home, and another few years dedicated to bringing them home himself, he cannot believe that he would ever wish them away, or bring any harm to either of them.
Cursing his own hands for their transgression against his guardians, he threw them out to the air in a fit, hopelessly punching at empty space to let out his anger and aggression. Collecting too much anger and rage from his mistakes, all the punches he throws out are not anywhere near enough to let out his emotions.
Feeling his drive and passion start to slip from him, the cuts on his chest started to bleed out yet again, driving his hands to it to try to stop the bleeding. Stepping over to a ledge of the rooftop, Arnold leaned over it, taking in a sight of the city while taking in the cool night air to try to calm himself.
The moment of relaxation gave himself a small time to find a chance to catch his breath and clear his mind, giving him time needed to focus his powers on the wounds to see them heal. With each breath given out, his cells worked tirelessly and quickly to rebuild lost skin and tissue, clotting blood and sealing openings.
His healing takes in well, but it is not meant to last. Concentrating on his body in an attempt to heal it, Arnold becomes oblivious to his surroundings, putting himself in his own inner space and concerned with nothing else. As such, he does not notice that there approaches on the rooftop several Crusaders, coming with the intent of attacking the Sunset Arms and taking him back to God's Country.
Now, his faltering relationship with his parents is no longer a concern.
Making their way out of Arnold's room, Miles and Stella slowly worked their way down the hallway, down the stairs back to the foyer of the Sunset Arms. Having patients awaiting their help, and them being the only doctors offering any free form of service in Hellwood, they cannot afford to be so selfish with their own turmoils for the moment when others are dying deaths they can prevent.
Melancholy as their emotions were, they did their best to hide their feelings, but their efforts were not so effective as they had hoped. Nurse Smith, stepping away from one patient, noticed the looks upon their faces with concern; a sentiment shared with Nurse Caudell.
"Doctor Shortman? Is everything alright?" Nurse Smith asked.
"Y-Yes, yes, we're fine. Thank you." Stella said.
"You don't look so fine, doctor. Are you sure there's nothing we can do to help you?" Nurse Caudell asked.
"Don't worry about helping me right now. We have people that need your help and mine more. Now, who needs it the most right now?"
The nurses did not take warmly to their doctor dismissing her obviously sad state, but their senses of logic knew that concern for the patience took precedent.
"Uh, this man over here has a bad case of tetanus. I can't find any of the tetanus shots." Nurse Caudell said.
"It's... It's in the kitchen, I'll go get it." Stella said.
Oblivious to the ambush of Crusaders coming onto the rooftop, Arnold does not take notice of their presence until the information comes too late. Being grabbed by a pair of Crusaders, Arnold was secured tightly in their grip; his captors attempting to subdue him to take him away.
Quick to snap back to the task of battle, Arnold struggled back against his abductors, making their grip on him start to loosen. Keeping what hold they still had on him, the Crusaders drove him against a wall, causing him to collide against the hard concrete and take a hit.
Keeping him against the wall, the Crusaders continued their hold as another Crusader approached and threw punches to his gut, driving out breath from his lungs with every punch that he met with. Unable to move against the hold of the Crusaders holding his arms, Arnold opted for a solution utilizing his other limbs.
Lifting himself up with the Crusaders to his sides holding his arms, he delivered a double-kick to the punching Crusader to push him off, then finished him off with a kick to his face. Landing back on his feet, Arnold jumped and spun himself around, placing his feet landing against the wall. Kicking himself off the wall, he threw both himself and his captors to the ground, leaving the latter to lose their grip on him and free him up.
Doing a kip-up to get back on his feet, Arnold readied himself for the fight to continue, holding his fists up to his face.
Inside of the Sunset Arms, the Shortman parents continued to give aid to their numerous patients coming to their home in need, acting as one final light that still burned bright in Hellwood. Though the majority of the staff were mere nurses and aides in the goal of healing, the linchpin which held the makeshift hospital together was the woman alliteratively named Stella Shortman.
Working tirelessly to hold up her keeping of the Hippocratic Oath, she finds no rest from the numerous people that come to the Sunset Arms for medical help. With one patient, she extracts a piece of glass. With another, she treats a chemical burn. With another, she gives a medication to stave off withdrawl from drug addiction.
For every human being that she helps, however, she does it not with the purest intent of trying to help others. Instead, she is doing it now for the simple task of trying to keep her mind away from the affair that was left behind by her fight with her son. It reflects in her work; giving herself no time to stop or think as she carried on with trying to find something else to keep herself occupied.
Absent-minded as Miles can be, this instance is not a time when he is. Taking notice of his clearly distressed wife, he put a stop to her workaholism to speak to her.
"Hey, honey, are you alright?" Miles asked.
"Am I alright? Oh, I don't know, Miles, our own son just told us that he would rather have us die out in the jungle rather than see us ever again and tried to choke you to death. Do you think I'm alright?" Stella asked.
"Look... Arnold's under a lot of stress. He... He didn't mean to do that. He's dealing with a lot right now."
On the roof of the Sunset Arms...
Keeping his defensive stance at the ready, Arnold still prepared himself for a fight against the invading Crusaders, holding his fists up to his face in defense. Though he waited for the next attack to come, the next strike from the Crusaders did not follow up with another attack. Instead, the group withheld themselves from him, as if acting in fear or waiting for a command.
Stepping forward from the group, one individual that Arnold recognized from them specifically approached him, taking a knee before him.
"Father, son, and holy ghost, our lord and savior." Herbie said.
"Mr. Grossman?" Arnold asked.
"Once, perhaps. I am but a Crusader now; a servant of the heavenly god, and, by extention, yourself. I have come to bring you back to the holy land and help this world prepare for kingdom come."
"What?"
"Saint Lila has told us of your true nature, holy Jesus, and we are here to help bring you to fulfill your destiny. On a personal note, it was a surprise to myself as well to hear the news, but, it comes more of a surprise to me to see that you are also the Green Eye."
Slowly realizing the true intent of these attackers, Arnold's confusion began to wade, but only enough to grasp the situation at its basics and inquire more.
"So... Your idea of being at my service is to attack and abduct me?" Arnold asked.
"We remember how you were scared and cautious of your final destiny to go to the cross 2,000 years ago. We are more prepared to ensure that our final victory is had." Herbie said.
"Listen. I'm not in the best of moods now, and I don't have time for your games. You know I'm the Green Eye, so you know I won't go down without a fight. But you also know how I've already beaten the Jolly Olly Man and Wolfenstein. How do you expect to beat me when they couldn't?"
Herbie Grossman rose from his knee, drawing out a sword from his belt. The rest of the Crusaders followed suit with their leader, all drawing out their own swords and bladed weapons. In addition to this new threat, more Crusaders slowly began making their way up the roof, surrounding Arnold and leaving no chance of escape, and less chance of fighting his way through them all.
Well aware of this danger, he gulped down an emotion of nervousness.
"Oh. Good answer." Arnold said.
Inside the Sunset Arms...
"'Didn't mean it'?! How could he have not meant that?!" Stella asked.
"He's fighting up against absolute hell, he's getting all sorts of problems piled up on top of it, and he's got no friends or allies right now. We're supposed to be here to help him, and pushing him now didn't help. Just give him some time." Miles said.
"How much time can we give him? Nothing's gone right since we got back or him! He's turned toxic with his own fiancee, he's becoming spiteful to us, he's turning into somebody he's not! We're supposed to be a family!"
Putting herself into Miles' chest, she began crying on him again, this time gaining an audience of the nurses watching the affair. Slowly taking a step forward to inspect the situation, Miles shooed them away, leading his wife away from the affair to speak to her in private.
"Stella... Honey... Please don't talk like that. You know Arnold. Once he gets stuck on something, he won't stop until he gets it. You said it yourself, he does things that he regrets when he's angry. He always means well. Maybe trying to push him now was a bad idea." Miles said.
On the rooftop of the Sunset Arms...
Getting pushed into a table holding various potted plants, Arnold fell over it, knocking the table and all its contents to the ground with him. Rolling with the fall, Arnold put himself back on his feet, readying himself to continue fighting against the Crusaders that kept on swarming the building.
Grabbing an unbroken pot from the ground, Arnold tossed it to the face of a Crusader coming his way, knocking him down for the count with glass colliding and breaking against his face. With more enemy Crusaders stepping in his place, Arnold grabbed a handheld rake and shovel from the contents from the table, compromising weapons to defend himself.
Throwing his compromised weapons up in the air, he deflected back the slashing of a sword, preventing himself from getting cut with its blade. Having another one come from behind, he freed one weapon to catch the oncoming blade, deflecting it as he kept a hold on the previously deflected blade.
Keeping both blades in hold, he spun the blades to the ground, forcing their wielders to kneel down with them, and giving himself a chance to strike them. He does not waste it; choosing to bash both in their faces with the backs of his fists, removing the enemies from his path.
Having another sword slash come near his face, he ducked down onto his knees to avoid it, propping himself back up to counterattack the swordsman. Sliding down to side of the Crusader, Arnold landed two strategic stabs with the shovel to his leg, leaving the weapon in the second stab location and following with a kick to his face, putting this opponent down.
Finding another sword come his way as the previous enemy was downed, he caught the blade between the grooves of the rake, twisting the weapon to catch the blade. Throwing a kick to the Crudader's arm, he pushed him back, causing the blade to snap under the hold of the rake.
Throwing the rake towards the next enemy, he landed the gardening tool into a Crusader's shoulder, leaving him stumbling back in pain from the thrown weapon's stab into his flesh. Running up to his enemy, Arnold landed a drop-kick to him, forcing him off the edge of the building and falling down to the fire escape.
Catching a downwards-swinging sword as it came his way, Arnold clapped his hands to grip it, turning to his side and putting his back to the Crusader to attack him. Putting a full grip on the blade, he drove its hilt into his stomach, bashing him in the belly to knock his breath out.
Putting him on the ground at last, Arnold's victory came at a price. Still keeping a grip on the sword's blade, it cut through his palms and fingers and its wielder fell to the ground, slicing through his hands and causing more blood to fall from his body. Grunting lightly in pain, Arnold did his best to push it aside to keep his mind on the fight.
When he looks back to see the remaining enemies, he knows that he has not made anywhere near enough process to claim a victory.
Inside the Sunset Arms...
"But he's been making so many mistakes. We're his parents. We're supposed to teach him how to learn from those mistakes and be a better person." Stella said.
"Only when he's a kid. He's not a kid anymore. Even if we want him to be. I hate that we weren't here to watch him grow up, too, but we have to realize that he's his own man now. We can't keep treating him like he's still a baby." Miles said.
"But he is a baby. He's my baby boy. I love him, and I want him to do the right thing."
"So do I. But we can't force him to do anything. Remember how much time we had to give Helga? It took a long time for her to come around. Why can't we do the same to Arnold?"
Unable to respond to Miles' reasoning, Stella once again nestled her head in his chest, which he responded to by holding her closer.
"I... I just still miss him. We lost so much time with him." Stella cried.
"I know. But my grandparents did a good job on him. I know he's a good kid." Miles said.
"It should have been us. We never should have left him."
Rubbing his wife's head to give her comfort, Miles held it and brought her face to his, wiping away her tears.
"Look. Why don't we just go talk to him again? We'll apologize for pushing on him, and he'll apologize, too. We'll all talk. As a family." Miles said.
"Do you really think he'll say sorry?" Stella asked.
"We all will. The best thing we can do right now is just to talk it out and try to be here for one another."
"But how do you know Arnold won't just yell at us again?"
"Oh, you and I know Arnold. He's known to take a beating and come right back from it."
On the rooftop of the Sunset Arms...
The Crusaders, needing to find a new approach to defeat Arnold, brought out new weapons to bring him down. Taking chains in their hands, they threw them around his arms, securing their target tightly to ensure he would no longer fight back. Struggling against his chains, Arnold found no escape from the bondage that held him tight, leaving him vulnerable to the enemy that contiuned to surround him.
Having him subdued and unable to keep fighting, the Crusaders did not waste their time to exploit their advantage; all bum-rushing straight to him and bashing the handles and hilts of their swords into him. Taking in their merciless beating with no means of freeing himself, there was nothing that Arnold could do now but try to survive the bludgeoning, hoping that the moment would pass and he would heal.
Over and over the beating of the swords came, bashing into bone and muscle, leaving bruises and welts from a beating that would leave a lesser man dead. Arnold, superior in body with all his abilities, found those powers stretched to their limit with all the abuse he was continuing to take.
Still the beating continued to fall on him, breaking bones and blood vessels with each hit that came to him. Still having no other defense or offense, the only thing he could do was withstand the beating. Still having no hope for any way out of this attack, all he could hope for was for the moment to end soon.
Inside the Sunset Arms...
Stepping back inside Arnold's room, Miles and Stella Shortman prepared themselves for an attempt to reconcile with Arnold, hoping that they could all put the preceeding fight behind themselves in favor of keeping a healthier relationship between parents and son.
As Miles opened the door to the room, Stella still clung tight to him, unsure of whether their attempts for peace would work or not.
"Are you sure that this is a good idea? He might still be angry." Stella said.
"He's probably fine. He's probably heading back down any second now." Miles said.
Prophetic as Miles' prediction was, it was not entirely accurate in the sentiment that he meant it in. Arnold did come back down to his room, but his entrance was not one of his own volition, stepping down from the roof, but, rather, was thrown from the sunroof back down into his room, crashing to the floor as he was thrown.
Hitting the floor before his parents, Miles and Stella rushed up to him, coming to his aide from his unexpected beaten state. Turning him onto his back, they attempted to get a better look at his face, but found even that task a challenge after the beating that he had suffered through.
Having cuts and bruises all across his face as well as a black eye, the face was barely recognizable to the people who had brought it to existence, making the parents cry in fear as they saw the fate that befell him. Stella, caressing his face to try to get a response, pleaded for one from her son.
"Arnold?! Hey Arnold! Arnold!" Stella shouted.
Letting out light moans from his beaten face, Arnold grunted out a command to his parents, trying to lead them to safety.
"Mom... Dad... run... quickly..." Arnold groaned.
Looking up to the broken sunroof to see what would have left Arnold in such a beaten state, Miles and Stella watched as Crusaders began to pour inside the room, all carrying with them swords and other means of weapons. Putting no more thought to the sight before them, they decided to retreat as quickly as possible from the situation, with their son included.
As Stella grabbed one of her son's arms and put it around her shoulder, Miles collected the 3 pieces of Arnold's broken staff before joining her, grabbing the other arm and quickly escorting him out. Moving fast with their broken son in their arms, they gave no thought to the others in the Sunset Arms that were in need; all other brain functions shutting off with the primary focus of keeping their own offspring alive.
Arnold, however, did not share that same sentiment. Even his barely-conscious state, he knew that everyone inside the Sunset Arms were human beings who were in need as they were, and in no shape to defend themselves. Digging deep into whatever drive he still had in him, he made what may have been one of his last decisions during his life on Earth.
Driving his feet into the ground, he brought Miles and Stella's escort to a stop, refusing to leave anyone behind.
"Stop." Arnold mumbled.
Not understanding his intention to stay behind, Miles and Stella tried to push him on, hoping that he would move. Arnold refused.
"Arnold, what are you doing?! They're right behind us!" Miles said.
"So are they." Arnold said.
Looking back on the numerous patients that still remained in the Sunset Arms, they realized that Arnold would not forsake any of these poor souls for his own survival, even if it meant his own death. Even so, being his parents, they could not accept that he would bring himself further harm in his current state.
"They'll kill you." Stella said.
"I don't care." Arnold said.
Brushing off his parents' hold, Arnold retrieved his 3 remaining pieces of his staff, holding one in each hand and stashing the third in his costume. Limping his way to the doorway to his room, he stood up against the approaching Crusaders, refusing to grant them any more ground.
"So, then, lord, will you come with us?" Herbie asked.
Utilizing the last of his mental energy, Arnold delved into the heart of Herbie Grossman, hoping to find some niche or weakness that he could appeal to in order to reason with him any case of sparing the patients. What he finds inside are memories of murdering innocents and raping young girls, but, below that, he finds the source of pain that drives him to these atrocious acts.
He finds the painful memory of his murdered family and stolen daughter, and how much attempts to repress and hold back the memory only leave him in worse mental shape. Nonetheless, the information gives Arnold a way to free out the patients, hitting Herbie in a personal place.
"Herbie. There are people dying here that came for help. They were sick people looking for someone to cure them. They did nothing to you. The place that they live in is where you lived with your wife and children. That must still mean something to you." Arnold said.
"I have no family anymore. All I have is the Crusaders and God's Country. And they want you." Herbie said.
"Then you can have me. But let these people go first. If you really do follow the bible, remember what it says about the sick and the poor. It teaches to help them when in need, like these people were looking for. Would you harm people that were seeking out help? Please, let them leave. Then you can do whatever you want with me."
Taking in the reasoning that Arnold offered to him, Herbie let the plea start to settle in his mind. Finding himself siding with the moral reasoning made with him, he allowed Arnold his request to let the patients leave their battleground. Lowering his sword, he urged the other Crusaders to do the same.
"Make it so." Herbie said.
Quickly taking the opportunity as it laid before them, Miles and Stella began expediently putting the patients on their feet, slowly escorting them out of the Sunset Arms to bring them to safety. The mass exodus was slow, with many people unable to easily move on their own, so those many were forced to take to one another for help out of the building.
Watching on as the patients slowly made their way out, the Crusaders carefully watched as they began to leave, while Arnold never took his eyes off of his enemies for a moment. Breathing in as he took his time to let the others leave, his body was allowed time to patch up its wounds, but once again it was left insufficient time to finish the healing completely.
Nonetheless, Arnold gladly accepted what advantage he still possessed, letting himself heal as the patients were still escorted out. Just as all things eventually came to an end, the patients had made their way out of the Sunset Arms and headed off to safety, while Arnold had found his period of waiting come to an end.
As the Crusaders lifted up their swords once again, Arnold kept his own compromised billy clubs, made up of what remained of his staff, held tight in his hands. Keeping his focus soley on them, he knew that this would likely be the last battle he would ever face, and had no choice but to give it everything he had left.
Ready fo the battle, he gave a smile at his opponents.
[Soundtrack Cue: (hed) p.e. - Jesus (Of Nazareth)]
Pushing out the very last energy still in his body, Arnold rushed straight towards the Crusaders in a suicide run, while the Crusaders themselves met his approach with a rush of their own. Keeping his billy clubs still in his hands, he prepared to use them against his enemies.
Ducking under the slash of one Crusader's sword, he spun and landed a strike into the hip of another, his hit landing somewhere near a kidney. Kicking away another Crusader that came his way, he bashed one in the head, drawing blood from the wound and leaving him falling to the floor.
Knocking another oncoming opponent in the head, Arnold grabbed another by the neck, keeping one billy club around his throat. Using his captured Crusader as a human shield, the other Crusaders dared not strike their comrade, leaving them only able to try to evade Arnold's attacks.
Swatting his free hand towards the Crusaders, kicking away with his free leg, Arnold made sure that no moment of his was spent idle in the fight, still dedicating himself to downing an enemy. Making one hit land in the head of a Crusader and a kick hit the chest of another, he did a decent job of trying to keep up his aggression.
Struggling against Arnold to free himself, the captive Crusader was not allowing himself to be held prisoner any longer, fighting for a chance to be free and attack back at his captor. Throwing his elbows into the enemy holding him, attempting to throw back headbutts, the Crusader showed that he, too, was not interested in giving only half his heart to the fight.
Deciding that his shield was more trouble than he was worth, Arnold kicked him back to the mass number of Crusaders, knocking many down with his defiant move. Moving back towards the Crusaders in offense, he still tried to keep his domination on the battle, keeping his own control on the battlefield as the primary aggressor.
His attack began to even draw the Crusaders back through the hole which they came from, but only so much before they would find the courage to fight back again. Continuing to slash and hit away at their target, the Crusaders' efforts were only met with more bludgeons from Arnold's billy clubs; the man without pain more than ready to inflict some of his own.
Grabbing an oncoming kick, Arnold grabbed the attacking leg and bashed it in the knee with his billy club, shattering the patella and all cartilage inside. Further doing damage to his enemy, he bent the leg backwards, doing worse damage to ensure the enemy it belonged to would not walk again.
Another Crusader rushed to drive his sword into Arnold in retaliation, but was only met with a whack to the gut, followed with another strike to the back of his head as Arnold spun to deliver it. However, this one action gave to another enemy an opportunity to slash at his back, finally drawing blood from him in this fight.
Reaching his arms up as the same Crusader threw his sword down, Arnold blocked the oncoming slash with his billy clubs, driving the strike to the floor. Grabbing the Crusader by his arms, he rolled on the ground with them still in his grip, throwing him to the floor as well.
Picking himself back up off the ground, Arnold was forced against the wall by a charging Crusader, leaving the two to collide into a door and crash it down. Rolling out of the way of the Crusader's strikes, Arnold threw one of his own to his head, kicking him towards his allies as they began to flood the room.
Grabbing a computer monitor from a table, Arnold threw it towards one Crusader, knocking him down with a direct hit to his head. As he was downed, more began to take his place, all still sharing the same unfaltering and stagnant mission of taking Arnold down, one way or another.
One Crusader, seeking to try for a sword-strike of his own, threw one such slash towards Arnold. Ducking underneath the swing of the sword, the blade landed itself not into Arnold's body, but instead into the wall of the room, hitting electrical wires running down it.
The foolish Crusader, meeting a metal blade with electrical wiring, sentenced himself to slow and painful death upon meeting with the wiring. Feeling thousands of volts of electricity run through his body, he was cooked alive from the inside out; his body setting on fire within seconds of hitting the wire.
All the while, Arnold, needing to keep himself out of the closed space of small room, bum-rushed the Crusaders once again and pushed them back into the hallway, colliding into them like a human bowling ball hitting pins. Picking himself up off the pile of downed Crusaders, he quickly moved to the back of the hall, keeping his enemies on one side to keep proper focus on them.
Despite all the energy he was showing in the battle, Arnold began to find his breaking point start to come. Feeling his body start to disobey his commands to move, the very task of standing up a chore in itself, he knew that his last stand would not last much longer.
Nonetheless, he still contniued to fight back against the oncoming slew of Crusaders, proivng himself defiant to the end. Bashing away enemy after enemy as they continued to come his way, he appeared to be nowhere near done with standing his ground against the Crusaders; defiant to the end to hold them back.
But appearances can be decieving.
Receiving a slash in the arm from one Crusader, Arnold lowered his hand with a scream, finding himself no longer able to move it. This one slip of a mistake proved to be costly in continuing to fight back, as the Crusaders moved to take his fall to their advantage as it came to them at last.
Taking another slash to his leg, Arnold fell to his hands and knees, soon following with a fall to the floor. Having their target down and subdued, the Crusaders began beating him down, kicking him as he helplessly laid down, unable to pick himself back up once again.
Crawling away to try to find some safety from the beatings that carried on, Arnold found no respute from the assault. Still helplessly crawling away like an infant in search of its mother, Arnold was left taking beating after beating from the Crusaders. With little more consciousness left within him, his mind began to slip away from itself, slowly pulling into a state of nothing.
Finally, having no more strength to go on, Arnold collapsed.
[Soundtrack Cue End]
As Arnold finally stopped moving, the Crusaders put an end to their merciless beatings; their mission seemingly accomplished at last. Having their target unable to move or fight back any longer, the task of taking him back now seemed easy and simple; no more complications in their way.
"Finally. Piece of shit." One crusader said.
"Hey! That's the second coming you're talking about!" Another crusader said.
"Yeah, but he doesn't know it yet. Besides, he put up a hell of a fight. Just paying my respects."
"Never mind that. We got what we came for. Let's take him and-" Herbie began to say.
Before the Crusaders could conclude the quest which they had come for, they found a problem come before them which interrupted that goal, one that had stolen the last words from Herbie's sentence. Hearing the kindling of flame and smelling the scent of smoke in the air, they were driven to look back to see a wall of flames start to come through the hallway, resulting from the Crusader who slashed the wires.
Losing all common sense and thought with a fire in a building, the Crusaders quickly rushed down the stairs out of the building, leaving their goal behind to spare themselves the firey death that awaited them. While they managed to spare themselves a death by fire, they had ultimately left Arnold to face the fire himself.
Left behind with no strength left in his body, Arnold's mind was spared from the heat that his body was starting to feel; blissfully unaware of the burning death that slowly crawled its way towards him. All that was required of Arnold to meet this untimely end was to simply wait for his death to come, and he would find an end to it all.
Having pushed away the last people still left in his life, and no strength in his body, there was no more reason for him to continue on. There was no one left fighiting for, no future for himself or others, and no shame in the defeat that he was dealt. His death would come at last and he would find peace.
But two people, despite being pushed back at, would not let themselves be pushed away. Moving back up the stairs, Miles and Stella found their son once again, laying unconscious and unmoving on the floor. A quick check to his neck by Stella confirmed that he was, despite all apperances, not dead yet.
"He's still alive. We need to get him out of here. Now." Stella said.
Picking him back up, Miles and Stella began making their way back to the stairs, ready to escort him out of the Sunset Arms and to safety. Just before making their way out, however, the fire had creeped itself towards the ceiling above the stairs, weakening the construction above.
Falling off from the ceiling, firey wood and rubble fell to the stairs, littering it with flaming objects and setting the stairs themselves on fire. Having one exit gone and the exit of the sunroof blocked off with the source of the fire, the Shortmans seemed to have no way out of the Sunset Arms, and would not find their escape.
The Shortmans were well aware of their fate... but they did not accept such an outcome to happen to their son.
"Stella. We're not getting out of here alive. But Arnold has to." Miles said.
Realizing what her husband was implying, Stella nodded along, accepting of her own fate as she knew it was laid out for her.
"For Arnold. I love you, Miles." Stella said.
"I love you, Stella." Miles said.
Taking one final kiss before their last action on this Earth, the husband and wife savored the company and taste of each other one final time, knowing it would be the last they would ever be able to hold and embrace one another in this plane of existence. They only pray that, as Arnold lives on, they will still see each other again when they move on from this world.
Miles, breaking down a door to a room, grabbed a blanket from off a bed, bringing it to Arnold to secure him inside. Stella, lifting his body inside, kept him secured inside as Miles folded and wrapped the blanket around him. Ensuring to secure him tightly inside, wrapping every part of his body to protect it from the flames, keeping it all airtight to prevent him from breathing in carbon monoxide, he was safe and ready to save.
Lifting up their son, Miles and Stella began carrying him to the stairs, pushing their way through the flame.
Walking through the roaring flames, the fire scorched at their skin, burning it to a crisp within seconds. The two let out screams as the pain burned at their bodies, their own senses of pain urging them to go back, but their love for their son prevented them from doing so. Pushing themselves through the pain, they carried on to make their way through the Sunset Arms to the exit.
On and on the flames continued to burn at their bodies, searing away flesh to make it black and crisp, peeling away to reveal the cooking muscle underneath, and moreover did it inflict serious agony on the Shortmans. Walking their way through a firey inferno, as if wading through the steps of Hell itself, they pushed themselves through the pain and burning, moving through to their son's salvation.
Stella, unable to take the abuse much longer, fell to her knees, struggling to pick herself back up. Though managing to pick herself up to her feet, she only managed to keep moving with limps rather than a full, more efficient form of a walk. Even with this horrid outcome, her troubles were just beginning, as were Miles'.
Taking a burst of flame to his face, Miles felt the fire begin to burn away his face, making its way to his eyeball. Feeling his own eye overheat and pop, oozing out fluids, his vision was limited to his one remaining eye, making their departure out of the Sunset Arms even more of a challenge through all the smoke and fire.
Just barely catching the front door within their sights, the parents moved their way towards it, staving off their injuries and coughing out smoke from their lungs all the way. Losing what strength remained in their bodies, both Miles and Stella fell to the floor, unable to continue on their mission.
Still continuing to fight, the parents did not let up in the job of saving their child. Miles, putting the last of his strength to use, crawled his way up to the front door, grabbing hold of the handle. Twisting the doorknob, he leaned himself against it, pushing to door to the outside open.
Taking in a breath of fresh air from the outside, he reached his hand up to Stella, bringing her to the threshold to take in one last gasp for strength in the fresh air again. When both had their last reserve of strength built up, the two reached out for the blanket holding their son, slowly dragging it out of the house and to the outside.
Tumbling down the steps to the Sunset Arms, Miles and Stella took their rest at last in the cool, snowy outside, silently congratulating themselves on a job well done. Though one of the last sights that they would see would be their age-old home burning down, it did not bother them so much as they thought it would.
Slowly beginning to gain consciousness once again, Arnold reached himself out of his blanket, taking in his own breath of air as he was outside. Though waking in the outside snow was a confusing sight to him, his confusion was quickly ended with a look to his dying parents, snapping out more of his dwindling consciousness to focus on them.
Jumping out of the blanket, Arnold ran to his parents, grabbing each by the hand as they slowly slipped away. Looking on the horrible state that they were both in, their charred, blackened bodies showing muscle and bone under all the abuse they had taken, he knew there was nothing he could do to help them.
"M-Mom? Dad?" Arnold asked.
Putting their last focus on him, Miles and Stella put their faces towards him, smiling as they saw him alive and well.
"Hey Arnold." The two said.
"Mom, Dad, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't mean any of the things I said. I love you. I love you both. Please don't go away. Please don't die. I need you." Arnold ranted.
Putting her finger to Arnold's lips, Stella hushed his ranting, wishing only to look on him as she said her goodbyes.
"Shh. It's okay, Arnold. It's all okay. We still love you." Stella said.
"Yeah. We're really glad we got to spend these extra few years together." Miles said.
"But... But this wasn't enough. I want you to stay with me. Please. Don't leave me like Grandma and Grandpa did. I need you. I fought so hard to bring you home. Don't leave me again. I don't want to lose you again!" Arnold said.
"Hey Arnold... It's okay. Don't worry. You'll be okay. Just come here. Stay with us." Stella said.
Grasping his parents tighter than he had ever done before, Arnold kept the people he loved as close as he could, knowing this same familiar situation before. Remembering just how colossal a loss it felt to be with his grandparents as they died, to be with his parents as they departed, and, this time, being able to make their very minds his as they died...
...it is a feeling that he cannot call better or worse, or can ever be described.
Hearing their last breaths and heartbeats leave their bodies, Arnold knew that they had finally departed from their bodies, leaving behind an orphaned son and no home for him to come back to. Keeping his mind and heart connected with theirs, he knew that he was the last person in their thoughts, and only having positive thoughts of him; an unconditional love that now left with them.
Miles and Stella Shortman are dead.
Lifting himself up as he lost his parents, Arnold looked on the corpses of his parents with tears in his eyes, unable to make the tears stop.
"No... No... No..." Arnold cried.
Were Arnold any more detached from the world in his sense of loss, he would not even feel what had happened to him next. A gunshot was heard through the air, with the feeling of a piercing make its way through his chest. Looking down to himself, he felt a new wound seeping blood, and he knew that this one was one he could not heal from now.
Holding the smoking gun to his back, Herbie Grossman waited for the moment in which Arnold Shortman would finally fall down unconscious again, keeping his tested patience just as Arnold's remaining strength was tested. Feeling no more strength in his body or any passion to drive himself on, his fall was all but inevitable now.
As his mind slipped away one more time, a final regret made its way through his mind, causing him to speak out the one who he thought of in his last moments.
"Helga..." Arnold whispered.
Falling down to the ground, Arnold was at last no longer conscious; near dead and no hopes of coming back. Having secured their target at last, the Crusaders picked his body up, placing it on a stretcher to carry back to God's Country, where his lusting Saint Lila awaited him.
"Okay. Fun's over. Now we go home." Herbie said.
Though Arnold's final thought fell on deaf ears to the Crusaders, its intended audience was well able to hear it, and hear it she did. Unable to face the world any longer from her own misdeeds, Helga cowered herself somewhere in a deep, dark corner of Hellwood, hoping to wither herself away like a piece of trash.
Mingling with the trash of Hellwood itself, placing herself in a dumpster, she finds no desire to leave, no desire to move, no desire to eat, not even any desire to breath, despite her own body carrying on that task without end. Slowly, she awaits for her own death to come, not caring how it comes or what death it is. All she desires is the release of death to take her away from her problems at last.
But the sound of a voice brought change to that.
Helga... Arnold said.
Hearing Arnold's voice speak in her head, Helga felt communicated with it a sense of regret and suppressed love; one that she knew meant a sign of hope.
"Arnold?" Helga asked.
Picking herself out of the dumpster, she quickly ran back to where the voice drew her, inadvertently putting herself on a course to the Sunset Arms. Feeling tears fall from her face and a slight smile come to her mouth, she believed that this message was a sign that hope laid for the two after all, and she beckoned to it; like a dog rushing to the call of its owner.
When she makes her way to the call, however, what she finds is not what she expected.
Making her way to the Sunset Arms, she watched the building start to burn down; the first and clearest sign of trouble that laid in wait for her. With her sense of hope turned to fear, she continued to approach it with haste, needing to see what had become of her beloved Arnold.
What she finds next is even less to her liking.
On the ground were the charred and burned corpses of Miles and Stella Shortman; a sight as devastating as the thought in her head, as impossible as it may have been to come to her. Kneeling down to the bodies, she slowly laid her hands on the two, caressing them with a sorrowful touch.
Having no one she could truly, proudly call a parent in her life, she recognized the Shortmans as the closest things to parental figures as she could call, and the only ones that she would ever dare to say she loved. Watching their lifeless bodies on the ground, she knew that she would never have another chance to share that special connection with any human being again.
Most importantly, she also knew that there was no sign of Arnold anywhere, and whatever his whereabouts might be, they could guaranteed to not be good, especially not with his parents dead and his home gone. However, as much as all this information stung at her mind, none hurt so much as this one speculation:
She felt, deep down, that this was all her fault.
Falling to her knees in tears, clasping her face in her hands, she returned to the sky with a scream and cry that would never be matched again, not even in Hellwood.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Helga cried.