"Help me."
I jerked suddenly into wakefulness, but found myself in darkness, trapped on my back beneath a large pile of logs. I turned my head left and right slowly, appraising how thoroughly I was encased by the debris, finding that the pile was shallow, but wide. I then quickly tried to wiggle every appendage I had, taking stock of how thoroughly I was stuck.
'Right leg, loose.'
'Left leg, is pinned thoroughly, can't feel it very well.'
'Left arm is pinned at the shoulder, but otherwise free.'
'Abdomen is pinned beneath rubble.'
'Right arm is pinned, but it feels somewhat loose, maybe if I…' I tugged experimentally, hissing as splinters burrowed into my skin where it scraped the log pinning it, but continued pulling, until my hand was caught, and then-
"STOP!"
I froze immediately, allowing my hand to rest where it was. "Scar, is that you?"
"Yes, do not move an inch unless I tell you."
I gulped at the intensity in his typically disinterested voice, and forced my limbs to lock in place, "Is the old man out there?"
"Yes" Scar affirmed, I heard something crack within the pile, and then something shift, and suddenly the pile opened up a little, so everything was just a little bit brighter. "Move the hand now, jerk it."
I nodded, and braced myself, before yanking my wrist out from beneath the log, hissing as the scrape shredded the skin from my wrist. I heard something else shift, and then protected my face with my now bloody hand as the logs above where my hand had been fell away, opening a large enough hole above me that I could crawl out of. Scar appeared on the other side of the opening now, crouching and with a long wooden plank in hand, "Can you crawl through this?"
"No, no I can't, my left leg and left shoulder are stuck, not to mention my abdomen."
Scar continued to stare into the hole, appraising my situation, "Your leg is pinned by a sink, it's not supporting any weight, shake it off."
"But I can't feel that leg" protested.
"Irrelevant." Scar rebutted "Shake the leg, if you cannot, shake the foot, if that is not possible, shake the hip, if not, turn your waist."
I nodded, and attempted to twist my body at the hip, and lo and behold, a heavy thud followed, and my leg was freed. "It is free, correct?"
I nodded slightly, knowing full well that he couldn't see me, "It is."
"Hold still until my word."
I remained there, waiting quietly as I heard logs shifting around me, sitting still for several minutes.
Scar appeared in my little hole to the outside world again, "I can lift the log pinning your abdomen for a moment, as I do, you will need to turn your body towards the log on your shoulder, so it may slide off, and then roll the other way, then crawl through this hole, quickly. Repeat it to me."
"Turn left, roll right, crawl up and out." I confirmed.
"Quickly." Scar emphasized, "It is not a small log, and my leverage could fail at a moment."
"Quickly." I parroted back.
Scar disappeared for a moment, and a moment later the log resting on my abdomen lifted almost half a foot off of me. As per the plan, I tucked my hand under my back and then turned, so the log resting on my shoulder rolled off, leaving my shoulder tender but free. I rolled quickly to the opposite side. I scrambled then, clambering my way out of the hole at top speed. On my way out of the hole, I heard a snap, and heard something drop abruptly in the pile, I froze, waiting for a wave of pain that accompanied being crushed by a massive log.
Instead, I heard a grunt, and turned to see Scar struggling to hold the log up himself, arms wrapped around a large log and holding it up with his back, bandages contorted to a scowl, and in his hand a long wooden plank, snapped in two pieces. Scar growled irritably, and threw the broken plank to the side, quickly shifting his hands, and propping the log up with his leg, and then shifting the log over to his opposite shoulder, and grabbing me by the arm with his free hand, dragging me out of the wood pile, before allowing the log to fall the ground, several crunching sounds accompanying it where it crushed even logs of similar sizes between its falling weight.
I took in my surroundings briefly, trying to remember what had happened. I had been in the cabin, but it appeared as if much of the cabin was simply…gone. Torn to pieces as left scattered on the ground, in a large pile of logs. The wall across from the bathroom still stood, but the entire bathroom had been dismantled at minimum, and judging from the logs piled up outside the bathroom, I hadn't been buried in the worst of it.
'What happened?' I thought dazed, and then, with more curiosity 'What could have done this?'
I tried to get up, but Scar caught me in the action, "Stop." He warned, but I still too confused from the ordeal and curious as to the extent of the damage to obey. Exasperated, he yanked on my arm, sending me crashing back into the pile. "Stop." Scar commanded again, panting lightly.
"There is…" Scar struggled for another moment to normalize his breathing. After a moment his panting came to a halt, and he released his grip. Having apparently recovered from the challenge, his chest stilled, his voice returned to its monotone, and his body did not betray any glimpse of what had happened, "The old man is dead."
I sat there, confused, and then let my head tilt back, remembering the look of defiance on his face, pointing a gun in my direction. I shuddered at that, but managed to keep my wits enough to know that he hadn't shot me, or I wouldn't be there.
'Some big fucking joke. Met him, he helped me out a lot, and an hour later something turns him into paste.'
My mind began spinning in a wordless fury, for what felt like an eternity. Once the initial chaos faded from my mind, my mind stuck on that one word; something.
'Something did this.'
'Something crashed into this house, and attacked us unprovoked.'
'Something tried to turn me into paste.'
'Something killed the old man.'
'Something… something.'
I looked up at Scar and asked, as calmly as I could manage, "What killed him?"
Scar stared at me quietly for an awkward moment, and I felt a building intensity in the atmosphere, one that did not fade when he broke the silence, "If you wish to understand, it is better you see, but I do not believe you wish to understand. No, I do not think you can."
I held my gaze as I looked him in the eye, any fear or discomfort from the quiet survivor's judging gaze forgotten, "Try me."
Scar said nothing, but pulled me up by the arm, bringing me to my feet, and then turned, guiding me slowly around the corner. I noted with some surprise that the front of the house was in better condition; the front half of the roof was still intact, and while one side of the house had a large hole in it, the other had a log knocked out of it and laying across the floor, the door had been blown clear off it's hinges, and several holes existed in the floor, it did in fact still resemble a house, which was more than could be said for the pile of lumber I had been stuck under. The thought only distracted me for a moment, and I forced it away quickly and effortlessly, anticipating the next moments.
Scar released my arm as he made his way to the corner of the house with the hole in it, and I bit my lip in anticipation as he reached into the small pile of lumber that piled up under it, a mess of rags out of it.
Not rags. Obviously. But some mangled pile of flesh and rags. I couldn't even begin to comprehend what had happened to him, but Scar seemed to have a much easier time making sense of it, and speaking without tasting bile in his throat.
He lifted the corner of the ragged, bloody, and torn shirt that covered the mount of flesh "Fractured ribs from blunt force trauma, he was thrown." Scar dropped the shirt corner, and proceeded to press his fingers on its sides, working his way up the abdomen. "Later trauma caused a fractured rib to pierce the left lung, collapsing it. Right clavicle is…shattered."
Scar looked at the head next, "Difficult to say, lower jaw is missing, skin frayed, scalp torn, multiple fractures in the skull." Scar actually reached into the jawless mouth, and moved the loose tongue to the side as he examined something, then lifted the head by its hair and turned it, so I could see the large hole in the side and to the back of the skull, where part of his brain was exposed. "Brain appears to be largely intact, surprisingly."
Scar then lifted both arms by the wrist and shook the left one experimentally, "Minor fracture at the wrist, otherwise insignificant injuries." Scar then looked at the other with a little more…disgust maybe, "As for this… major lacerations to the forearm. No fractures but then again…it appears half gone."
Scar looked at the legs for a moment, but eventually shrugged, "I think you have seen enough. It is likely he died from blood loss when the skull was fractured. That did it." Scar proceeded to pat him down from the waist down, stopping the pockets and taking out a leather wallet, flipping it open before pocketing it. Scar sniffed the air, "Did he a fire a gun?"
I stared dumbfounded, still shocked by the mutilated remains, "Isn't it wrong to take his wallet."
"For identification. Forget the gun, I do not wish to be here when the thing returns." Scar determined, and rose up, storming over to the kitchen and tearing through the cabinets, scooping something out something into his bag, then grabbing me by the arm and storming away, dragging me behind him.
I could only follow. Though we passed many different sights on the way, I only saw the mangled mess of blood and bone for what felt like a long time.
"Stop."
Scar kept walking, dragging me behind him.
"Stop."
Still no response. In frustration I slapped his wrist with my free hand, and immediately yanked my arm out of his grip. Finally Scar paid attention, turning towards me, and standing still.
'He's doing that thing again.' I noted, feeling the tightness in my chest as he stared me down, changing the atmosphere into something that made me feel uneasy and utterly foolish. "Stop that."
"Stop what?"
"That!" I growled, finding my breath, and gesturing wildly, "The thing!"
Scar looked at me unimpressed, and the pressure continued to build, "You are losing your wits."
I growled lowly in frustration, and found my words despite the mounting pressure, "We need to go back." I asserted.
"Why?"
"We need to..." I trailed off.
'Need to what? There's nothing left, because of that thing.'
"We can still can still catch what did this." I asserted.
"I will not."
"But we n-"
"No." Scar turned away, looking into the woods, "We do not need to."
"But we ca-"
"Can is not the same as should, nor would. Violence, even justified violence, is met with violence in turn, and every fight is a risk. I will not risk the thing for vengeance for someone that I did not know."
"But we CAN at least bury him, he was a good-"
Scar turned his full gaze to me again, no longer amused by my protests, "Are you sure of that? Tell me, what was his name?"
I said nothing.
"If you knew him." Scar continued, voice still drawling in a bored monotone, "You would know that he grieves for his son. The son that was raised on a farm north of here, who grew up seeking to do service to his country, told by his peers he was not a member of the Union because his mother was Johtoan and his grandfather Orrean. The son that sought to prove that he loved a country that gave little care for the families like his, the farmers of the west. The son that felt the need to prove his patriotism, before the cold war went hot, by joining the army. The son that the father supported with a fake smile in this decision."
Scar paused for a moment looking at me, trying to gauge my reaction, which was likely one of confusion, "You would know how he cursed the Kantonese and the Orreans alike when his son's life was thrown away like trash in a poorly planned punitive assault in the Orrean desert, by incompetent and apathetic leaders. You would know he could not grieve without the body that was lost in the sands."
"And you would know his justified rage, his shame, his disgust, for when the demonized Orreans that the Kantonese had brainwashed his son into thinking were backwards savages, and deceived him into fighting came, they did not harm the people. They paid well for the Johtoan rice that the Kantonese tarrifed to prevent competition, they built roads around in the places around the farms that the Kantonese had thought to be impossible for construction or not worthwhile- even as they instead took the money east, and to build a gluttoned and ineffective military."
"And, through the trade deals that persisted even past the war between the Orrean city-states and the individual farmers they uplifted in this time, and for the first time, he could send his other child- a daughter that was a baby when his son died- to learn the sciences. And you would know he could never again turn away a young man in need, because he could never stop mourning the son he lost, even after his wife died and he sold the farm to live out retirement in seclusion. And he always wanted to find another son, to dress him in the clothes that his father wore from Orre, look upon him, embrace him, and pretend that no war ever happened. But you do not know, you know very little."
I looked down at my sleeves in shock, overcome by sorrow, sympathy, and pity, I looked up at Scar in disbelief, "How could you know all that?"
"I do not," Scar answered quickly, though he continued to stare at me, his body did not betray any sign of guilt or panic from his sleight of tongue, "But can you say it is not so? It is a common story in these places, and though it smells of propaganda, much propaganda is misunderstood truth. You do not know the man well enough to mourn him, and he has received some semblance of peace in death. It is sometimes prudent to settle for 'well enough'."
I looked down and refused to meet Scar's goggles, trying desperately to swallow the guilt welling in my throat, "It still feels wrong; cowardly, even."
"Find your ethos" Scar scolded, his voice briefly breaking its practiced monotone as he finally put his opinion of me into words, his annoyance building to the point even he could not contain, but the moment passed, and he continued calmly, and neutrally, " You are neither child nor passive observer. Where is your drive? Your courage, that calls us cowards for prudence? You speak of can's and should's, but you do not consider them yourself, you only wish that another would do them for you. If the act of leaving now leaves so sour a taste in your mouth then go and tend to the forgotten dead, but I have not forgotten my obligations to the living."
I felt myself shrink and curl up into myself in this latest round of scolding, for which I had no rebuttal nor ground to deny. And so when Scar finally turned, and the sheer disgust I felt emanating off of him alleviated, I did not protest as he placed a hand on my shoulder and used it to force me to take several steps forward, and when he released my shoulder I continued walking, falling into step beside him, and said nothing.
The rest of the walk was silent and monotonous, save for an instance in which something in Scar's bag began thrashing wildly, and Scar responded promptly, slamming his fist into the bag four times without so much as sparing a glance at the olive green sack.
Naturally, the thrashing stopped.
I said nothing, stuck in my head, Scar's criticism echoing in my mind with every step, trying and failing to reject it, then trying and failing to justify it, and then simply trying to understand it.
You are neither child nor observer.
'I'm not. I fight when I have to, like anyone else. I fought the zubat, I fought the pinsir...'
You fought when you were cornered, and only for your own sake. If anyone else had been there to fight that fight, you would have stood aside.
'There's plenty of times I helped Jenny and Lawrence.'
When?
'...'
I shook my head side to side violently, forcing the thoughts to fall away.
You are neither child nor observer
'I'm not. I take care of myself. I do what I have to.'
You exist, and only other's act to raise you past that, and offer little help and care in return. You are babied.
'I am not, I am capable. I have helped Lawrence and Scar and Jenny, saved them, even.'
Saved them? Like you were able to save the old man, who you did nothing for, and then gave his life to draw attention from you.
'...'
And it continued.
Again.
And again.
And again.
"Enough." Scar declared quietly, "We have arrived."
I turned my attention away from my inner doubts and looked outwards, eyes trailing to the wisps of smoke crawling into the sky, joining the gray clouds in the sky, barely noticeable. Scar picked up the pace. I followed suit, with a good guess for the sudden change.
"That seems like a safety risk, doesn't it?"
"It is."
I nodded and kept with the pace. Before long we veered off path, tearing through brambles to reach the seclusion of the camp.
Sure enough, laying in the middle of our tiny camp, a tiny fire flickered among ashes, with Rui and Robert chuckling behind it, their backs together and facing the wind to prevent the few living embers from being snuffed out by the chilly breeze. I stared at the fire for a few moments longer- it was small, not much longer in diameter than my forearm, but still it burned and spat smoke like a fire twice it's size.
Rob first noticed us as Scar marched over to the fire, and his eyes perked up in surprise in seeing me cleaner, with new clothes, and with a new coat of red paint. Robert started to rise, his jaw agape, opened and closed his mouth several times, and then found his words, "What happ-"
His question was interrupted as Scar brought down his boot on the fire, smothering it. Robert opened his mouth to protest, and Rui noticed something was off, and scrunched her face as if she had bitten into something sour, but before either could voice their complaints Scar interrupted them, decisively cut out any room to debate, "Do not keep fire in the day if I am not present, not unless you risk freezing quickly. Your fire keeping is poor, and you burn things you ought not to burn, and it makes you more visible than you should like."
Robert nodded, "Okay, but wh-"
Robert was suddenly caught off, as Rui jumped up and walked up to me, brushing a few things, brushing off my new shirt and feeling the bloody stains on it, still damp. When her fingers still touched these her eyebrows shot up, and she pressed harder on it. I finally found the presence of mind to push her hands away and step back, though I did not say anything. Rui's concerned features twisted into a scowl and marched over to Scar's right, and pointed an accusatory finger at him. "What did you do to him?"
Scar stared for a moment, and then gently guided her finger until she had turned facing him. "There was an attack, but-"
"No." Rui scolded the behemoth, enunciating while jabbing her finger, now so close that it jabbed into his chin, though if either of them noticed, they ignored it. "What did YOU do to him?"
Scar carefully grabbed her hand and guided the offending finger so that it was once again turned away from him, "Nothing sinister." Scar asserted, voice flat, but to my surprise, he could not help but look away from Rui's scowling face, though one could not tell if-beneath his bandaged face- it was guilt or frustration that made him do so. "And nothing he will not recover from. Only what was necessary."
"I somehow doubt that." Rui stated, almost matter of fact-ly, but her scowl seemed to lessen slightly.
Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.
Scar turned back to her, "Look him over later, if you like, but we must move now. There is something dangerous here, and I'd like not to test fate."
Robert looked up to the sky for a moment, trying to discern the position of the sun through the sheet of clouds, "It's hard to tell, but it looks like we don't have more than three hours left of good daylight."
Scar nodded in agreement, "Then we will walk for three hours. Also," Scar paused, reached into his bag and pulled out a fair sized magikarp. "I obtained this Johtoan fish from the river, for you to prepare once we stop."
Robert was already packing his rucksack and vest, but sounded somewhere between amused and insulted. "So wait, you're saying I know how to prepare magikarp just because I'm Johtoan?"
Scar looked down at the fish in his hands, and then back up to Robert, "Can you not?"
Robert ran a hand through his hair and shook his head, then finished packing his bag, but said nothing more. Rui raised herself on the tips of her toes and whispered something into Scar's ear, to which he recoiled, as if smelling something pungent.
"Why?"
Rui whispered something else in his ear, ans Scar swore in his odd language.
Rui responded in kind, quietly chiding him- or at least I thought so- I had trouble differentiating the tones. Scar's body was still as stone. "Unlogical."
Rui bounced on the tips of her toes again, and Scar stared at her for moment, mouthing a word I could not discern several times, until he was comfortable.
"Illogical then."
And with the first coherent thought I had since Scar's scolding, I lamented my interest in the exchange.
'What was I expecting, anyways?'
We marched in the steady rhythm that had become familiar in the days prior; Scar forming the tip of our three man spear carrying Rui, Robert standing behind him and slightly to the left, carrying his own sack and his weapon in his hands (the very same one that I strained to ignore), with me another couple of paces further back, serving as Scar's personal pack mule, carrying not only one, but two of his heavy duffel bags.
As we continued walking, I still continued to ponder the damning questions:
You are neither child nor observer.
'I'm not, I can fight! I killed the corphish in the street, I killed the tentacool beneath the street, I killed pinsir at the cabin.'
Frenetic, desperate attempts. You failed to save Jenny and Lawrence in the end, hid in a corner when the world fell apart in the military base, you needed Scar to save you from a WEEDLE.'
'But what I did ensured I survived!'
But what did it fail to ensure? You were to broken to even function when the old man needed you to save him and yourself.
"Fuck!" The pressure was too much for me, and the sudden, violent verbal release of frustration made the accumulated force of the echoing words subside for a moment, but also quickly drew the attention and concerned stares of Rui and Robert, "It's nothing." I muttered in apology, "I was just thinking."
Robert shook his head, disappointment and disgust evident on his features, but Rui simply continued to stare, her face slackened, and her foggy, concerned eyes boring into and past me. After a few moments, my discomfort at being stared at so intently by someone that was so completely blind forced the general frustration and self loathing into the back of my mind, and I stared back for as long as I was able, keeping my eyes on the pale discs on white orbs that seemed to hold their attention on me, even with how their owner's head bobbed which each soundless step of Scar. My mind measured them in scattered thoughts, weighed them, watched the occasional sidelong glance into the trees.
'Why is she looking at me like that?'
'Is my walking that loud?'
'I think her eyes might be a bit less pale, come to think of it, didn't Scar say her condition was temporary?'
I paused at that, the idea of the totally blind and yet eerily completely aware girl suddenly- or even gradually- being able to see was utterly alien. I could not imagine it, try as I might, nor how I would or should feel about the possibility, despite the weak relationship, the shift in the group dynamic would be... unfathomable, in a way that simply adding or subtracting simple passengers on our expedition could not compare.
'It's likely to happen at some point. I don't imagine Scar would weigh himself down- literally- on his mission for a girl that would remain blind for the rest of her life, not without getting something out of it.'
And what did the old, silent, and seemingly omnipotent soldier get out of it? I shifted my eyes a couple of inches to the right as Scar craned his neck for a moment and sniffed, as if relying on completely different senses than the functional members of society.
'What is his game? Why did he save me, or Rui? Why does he know what he knows?'
I shifted my gaze back towards Rui, her eyes now trailing back and forward along the treeline, but I caught what could have been mistaken as a questioning gaze out of the corner of her eye.
'Maybe I'm mistaken, her eyes look more or less the same.'
Scar stopped suddenly, turning towards the woods, and tapped Rui on the shoulder twice to signal for her to get off of him and step back behind me and Robert. He turned towards us, "Do exactly as I say, and no more." Scar pointed a finger at me, then to the green duffel on my left shoulder, "Give me." I complied happily and removed the heavy bag from my shoulder. handing it off to him.
Scar took the bag in hand, holding it limply at his side, and then turned to Robert, "Keep the other two in control and in safety. This should not fall into fight, but worse to be sorry than safe. Do not fire unless absolutely necessary."
Robert said nothing, but lifted his weapon and chambered a round into his weapon, and I grabbed Rui by the wrist and stepped back, shuddering as I heard a bullet tumble into the barrel of the weapon.
Scar stepped forward fifteen paces, unzipped his bag, dropped it, then stepped forward five more, and began unbuttoning his shirt, as he did earlier that day, with the Ursaring.
And then it came into sight; an ursaring, one much larger than the one Scar had managed to frighten off before, with a longer snout, massive paws, and longer teeth. It moved through the thicket by alternating between two and four legs, to either move above or plow through the many brambles. As it fully emerged and stood in the road, it swiveled on two feet, and then brought its front paws onto the ground, so it stood on all fours, and roared; a loud, guttural sounding noise that seemed to echo throughout the forests, stirring every creature in every dark corner.
Scar, for his credit, reacted in kind; holding out his arms so that his jacket flared out at his sides, making him appear larger, he stood on the tips of his toes in an attempt to tower over the hunched over creature where it stood not twenty feet from him, and the roar he returned was every bit as savage, with a tint of sheer wrongness that would command the legs of even the most brazen adventurer to begin flying away.
And then the Ursaring rose back onto two feet, and stepped forward, each falling foot followed by a massive thump that seemed to shake the Earth, turn my bones to jelly, and send my teeth chattering. Then the creature stretched out to it's full height; it's neck extending and arms raised out in front of it over it's head, and roared again.
The size of the bear pokemon compared to Scar could not be overstated in that moment. Whereas the other bear was, perhaps only two inches taller than him on two feet, this one had shoulders that reached above Scar, paws as large as his chest, arms easily as long as his torso, a long gaping maw that could easily fit a human head, and a neck almost as thick as Scar himself.
For a brief moment the sun broke through the clouds behind us, and in a moment so perfect it almost seemed planned, Scar's shadow extended only up to the center of the circle on the beast's stomach, while the bear's own shadow seemed to occupy most of the road behind it, blacking out the path forward. I realized, in a moment of awe, that if the mountain of muscle and fur had emerged from behind us, with the sun at the back, we would have been shrouded in darkness.
And when the full force of the deafening vibrations coming from the beast's lungs hit me, all awe gave way to terror.
Scar did not flinch, though. He stood rigid, as if he had expected it, and was unimpressed. To the casual observer, he would seem to be stone, uncompromising before the terror. But I noticed that his left arm almost seemed to drift to the axe on his hip when he was hit by the roar, and that he made a fist with his other hand.
Only then did I piss myself.
Scar did not step back, but bounced on his toes. and then opened his mouth and bellowed that freakish, wrong roar yet again, but I somehow picked out words from the chaos, a low and guttural "THROW. FISH".
Feeling trapped between the guttural clash of the two behemoths, I didn't think I'd be able to move at all, but somehow, without even looking, my hand floundered inside the bag, unzipping it and riffling through the contents while my eyes remained glue to the tense, titanic, and doomed challenge.
Then something else caught my eye, previously obscured by Scar's shadow, but revealed in the split second he had dropped onto the flat of his feet. Sunlight glimmered off them for an instant, and I saw the four shining in its stomach, rimmed by red. My hand stopped reaching for the fish, Scar's instructions forgotten.
'Four, shining holes...four bloody bullets'
Crank
Click
Bang
I looked back up, no longer distracted by the sheer size of the creature, and took in it's features, with the sun, literally and figuratively, letting it be seen in a new light.
'Splinters and bone fragments stuck in it's paw.' my eyes darted up, to the long maw filled with many teeth 'Irritated gums, bloody teeth...orange fabric in its mouth.'
I needed to see nothing more.
"Monster" I hissed the accusation under my breath. Rui tensed behind me, and if I didn't know any better, I would have thought I saw Scar actually flinch from where he was.
For the first time I noticed Robert was circling around Scar's back, his weapon fully raised, ready to send a stream of gunfire down the monster's dark jaws, ready to attempt to impose some order on the rapidly deteriorating situation. He saw the flinch, and then quickly reversed directions, swinging back around to put himself between Rui and I and the monster. Robert glanced back at me, saw m hand trembling in the bag, and I saw him mouth the word 'fish'.
He was beside me in an instant, his right arm holding the but of his weapon firmly against his shoulder while his left hand reached into the bag and yanked my hand out of the way, so he could fish in it himself.
"YOU! WILL! DO! NOTHING!" Scar cried out, his voice commanding, not terrifying as before, and he began to lose ground in the shouting match for an instant, his opponent mistaking the change in his voice for fear, and felt free to advance two more steps, before Scar resumed to shout, rattling off a solid thirty seconds of foreign swears that slowed the creature, and then enunciating that stepping forward again was a very bad idea with his signature roar.
Despite Scar's warning, with Robert's hand firmly planted in my bag, I felt my eyes dart to his side, where I knew- from many anxious glances in the days prior- he kept his handgun. The handgun I remembered had ammo in it from when we were taking inventory several days before. I felt my face twist into something I had never worn before, and a pit open up in my stomach that I had never noticed. It felt hungry. It wanted justice. I could deliver vengeance.
Robert was too preoccupied to notice my new intent, rapidly shifting his focus between the massive bear, the almost faltering Scar, and his desperately searching hand. My right hand drifted up, preparing to snatch the gun from his holster.
'I could draw it fully in less than half a second.' I knew, somehow, but I didn't dwell on the details or my sudden certainty, 'I could step forward in the three-quarters of a second it would take me to aim, removing Robert from my right side, and preventing him from stopping me. It would take me a tenth of a second to squeeze the trigger, and then an instant for it to hit the Ursaring.'
"HANDS IN THE AIR!"
I froze, barely resisting the urge to do just that, and I felt a second later I was paying for it. My side did not itch, it burned, my abs cramped, and I could feel specifically where my rib cracked as a bullet barely ricocheted off of it, where the skin on my waist burned with friction as a bullet flew past, and every ripple of force that passed through my abdomen as the final bullet forced aside everything- skin, fat, muscle, intestine- and lodged itself where it wished.
I whimpered for a moment, like a feral dog whipped into submission, and my hand faltered, then I remembered seven simple words that hurt almost as bad.
You are neither child nor passive observer.
"Murderer," I growled, and for a split second, I felt Robert freeze in confusion. I realized that this was my chance. I saw how his arm withdrew from the bag. I could do SOMETHING, if I could just not remember.
My mind was still hesitant, but my hand was willing. It flew down for the grip of the pistol, like a bird of prey, and I yanked up from the holster.
But a strong grip closed around my hand and yanked it away from the weapon. I turned and glared, finding myself staring into Rui's white eyes, her face similarly twisted in disapproval. Unprepared, my hand released the handgun, and fell to the ground with a deafening clatter.
Three solid 'Cracks' inserted themselves in the distance between us, and I stumbled back, ears ringing. I turned towards the Ursaring, which stumbled back, but stills stood, with new red stains blooming across it's chest.
I turned, and saw Robert scowling, weapon raised, smoke bleeding from the barrel. Seeing the Ursaring standing, he raised his weapon further, and fired again, filling the air with three more cracks, and Robert grinned in satisfaction as the bear pokemon's head jerked back.
That grin fled his face when the target did not fall, replaced with a look of confusion. The bear stumbled forward several drunken steps, its neck still tilted back oddly. Small plumes of dust burst from the road as something struck the ground next to its feet, faster than any of our eyes could track. Robert's eyes immediately stared at the ground, trying to figure out what had happened as I stared at the Ursaring, as small, minuscule streams of blood began to drip into its eyes then down the side of its snout. Then we both realized what happened.
"Oh shit!"
"Fuck!"
I didn't have time to figure out who said what, as if triggered by our foul language, the bear's neck snapped back into place, staring at down at Robert, brown eyes appearing red with blood and murderous intent.
Robert immediately lowered his weapon slightly, flipped a switch on his weapon, and then immediately pulled the trigger back, barely giving Scar time to throw himself to the ground and out of the line of fire before a steady stream of gunfire erupted from his weapon at his command. Every 'crack' the gun spat seemed to protest against being contained in the former soldier's grip, and only half of the gun's angry strikes against his shoulder seemed to cause the bear any grief.
And then the fire stopped coming, and the Ursaring stepped forward, eyes wild with a rage that somehow made murder seem tame. Robert swore and fumbled with his gun as the bear surged forward, taking several attempts before his shaking hands managed the release his magazine, and he struggled to find his spare.
He did not train for this.
Scar sprang up from his place on the ground, placing him firmly between the bear and us, and in a blur a harpoon was in his hand, so quickly drawn that it seemed as if it was there all along. As the angered beast closed the short distance between them, Scar abruptly dropped to one knee, and thrusted upwards at the oncoming mountain of muscle's ribcage. Time paused for a moment as the tip made contact with the bear, and then kept going, and going, and going, until as many as four inches of the wooden handle was embedded solidly into the creature's abdomen.
And then time rolled on. The creature continued forward, closing the remaining distance between the two in an instant, the sudden closeness forcing the haft out of Scar's hands and jabbing it into the the ground, where it cracked in two. The bear almost ignored Scar, and attempted to scramble over him, kicking him with one massive leg, Scar scrambled to roll out of the way, but not before the other leg came down on his ribs, causing the bear to stumble thoughtlessly and Scar to jerk as his bones protested with a decisive 'crunch'.
The bear continued, faster than what I thought possible with something so large. I quickly looked between the enraged monster, and the panicking Robert and made the split second decision that both Scar and Robert were goners. My legs moved quickly, and as Robert finally managed to force another magazine into his gun I had turned, thrown Rui over my shoulder and started running.
"Stop it! Stop!" Rui was not prepared for this, and panicked, flailing and twisting in my grip, along with anything else she could possibly do to make carrying her away as difficult as possible. I said nothing, to busy panting from running a mere ten feet with her weight on my shoulder, but I managed to hold onto her.
I briefly registered the sound of a great thump behind me, and thought to look back, but was interrupted as the tip of Rui's shoe managed to plant itself between my legs, managing to drive its point home. All determination forgotten, I nearly bit through my tongue when the feeling hit me, my legs immediately squeezed together and I crumpled onto my knees, hands dropping Rui in favor of cupping the damaged area. Another unpleasant sensation rapidly rose through my body, and before I could react bile had crawled up my throat and I gagged, sending it onto the ground. "Why?" I asked, a pathetic squeal that was sounded somewhere between pleading and anger, "Fucking why!?" I fell onto my side, facing the way I came.
And for a brief moment my surprise distracted away from the pain that had bloomed from my groin. Now it was the Ursaring that was crumbled on the ground, it's legs tangled up in a line of rope that extended from the bloody hole in it's chest to Scar's outstretched hands. As the angry beast of a pokemon continued to fumble, Scar was dragged through the gravel, then sideways, then forced to roll, but the rope remained firmly in his hand, and when the beast's momentum broke, Scar managed to rise to his feet, planted firmly in the ground, halting it entirely.
The Ursaring roared, finally deciding Scar to be more than an annoyance. It blindly swiped a massive paw at us one final time, and a half dozen stars shot out, the bear then turned away with a satisfied huff.
Robert stumbled to his left, narrowly dodging presumably deadly swift attack. From my spot on the ground, I eyed the flying stars, ignored the pain in my groin, and kicked Rui solidly in the shins, sending her to the ground with a yelp. The stars flew above Rui's head by a fair margin.
'That...was more satisfying than it should have been.'
The stars flew above Rui's head by a fair margin, and alleviated, I continued to watch the fight with mortified interest, as one might feel when watching two behemoth trains crashing together. The ursaring charged Scar on two legs, the entirety of it's fury now directed towards the HUMAN that had somehow managed to not only slow, but STOP it's charge. The Ursaring, despite the shortness of it's legs and greatness of its size, closed the distance in mere seconds, and immediately swung a glowing right paw at Scar's head with impressive speed, appearing less like a punch and more like a flash of light.
The blow, while quick, was obvious, at least to Scar, who lunged beneath the swing long before it was ready. The axe came out, and lodged itself in the creature's knee, and a minute later, the Hammer Arm connected with the ground, bone crunching and dirt flying, but Scar was no longer there, nor was a significant part of the monster's knee.
"Look out!"
I jolted, again aware that despite the fighting, I was by no means separate or safe. The voice was Robert's, and I rolled onto my other side, and then quickly rolled over again as quickly as I could, feeling the flying stars from before graze my clothing with my near dodge. The stars changed target again, now flying towards Robert, who raised his gun and fired again, another inaccurate stream of gunfire catching most of the stars mid-air, but the stars closed quickly, too quickly, and hit him squarely in the chest, sending him flying back.
I scrambled over to him, checking him over, but when I reached him he only coughed weakly and gave a thumbs up, before beating on his chest twice, and when the hand came away with no blood I stopped. He then pointed to fingers down, and rolled onto his side away from me, watching the fight from the safety of the ground, as he continued to tremble, coughs racking his body.
The Ursaring was now stuck on all fours, back bloodied by whatever in the hell Scar managed to pull off. Scar was once again between us and it, even further away than it had when it had charged him the first time.
Thing's weren't perfect though. Scar was breathing heavily, and though he did not outwardly appear to be in pain, blood ran down his side where he was stomped on, and his breathing trembled slightly when he inhaled.
The Uraring moved even faster now, on all four legs, seemingly intending on simply running over Scar until he was dead. The axe was quickly shifted to his other hand, and his now free hand wrapped the rope attached to the harpoon tip, and opened his mouth, and roared again.
The ursaring seemed to falter for a moment on its bad knee, and at that instant Scar leapt left, flaring out the arm the rope was attached to, throwing the bear off balance again, and then leapt right, hooking the bottom tip of his axe into its left shoulder as is passed him, in such a way that as the charging monster passed him the blade of the axe sunk deep into it's shoulder, almost down to the shaft, before being ripped out of Scar's hand.
Scar stood still for about half a second, gasping for breath, and then the rope wrapped around his other arm went taught, and suddenly he was being dragged through the gravel behind the Ursaring. After stumbling for another ten or so feet, the Ursaring crashed face first into the ground, and both combatants were still.
I rose to my feet and took two steps forward, halting suddenly when the Ursaring stirred, struggling to prop itself up with two bad legs. Scar began to rise a moment later, looking as if he had crawled out of hell. His left goggle lens was broken, shattered, the eye beneath it squeezed shut either to keep blood out of it or blood in it. The entire front of his jacket was frayed and thin, and his decision to open it only meant that every inch of skin not covered in bandages was scraped raw, and his unbandaged ribcage was an angry purple where he was stomped.
He rose, posture straight despite this, the arm in which he held the rope dangling helplessly. Without a word, he cupped the heel of his lifeless palm with his good hand, and then pushed it violently upwards, ramming it back into it's socket with a 'crunch'. Satisfied, he began walking slowly, quietly, and dignified to where the Ursaring was struggling to stand upright, one knee up and the other planted in the ground. Scar wasted no time, coming behind him and kicking it behind the knee, forcing it back to the ground. It roared for a brief moment, before Scar's boot came down on it's head, silencing it, reducing it to groans. Scar stepped back, shuffling his feet, and then bringing his foot down again on the head of the axe lodged in its shoulder, eliciting another set of screams, which was met with another boot to the head. Scar dislodged the axe, deadly silent, and only the Ursaring's whimpering could be heard throughout the clearing.
Scar walked back to the back legs, and brought down his boot down on the already injured knee, grinding his heel against the fractured bone. The roaring was resumed, slobber and hot air spilling from the beast's maw, but was subdued, and the agony that lingered in its eyes did not match the raging desperation present in its anguished war cry. Scar said nothing, moved on to the next leg, crouched down, took the axe by its head and delivered two lightning fast slashes, one behind it's knee and another behind its ankle, parting skin and sinew.
Scar stood, walking beside the length of the creature, neck craned like that of a critique searching for flaws in a work of art, shoulders hunched like a stalking predator, then spun on his heels, kicking it in the side as he yanked up on the harpoon's rope, turning the bear over finally tearing the barbed tip that had destroyed it so utterly from the bloody hole in it's chest. Scar stepped over it with one leg, and kneeled on it's arms, jabbing it in the nose with one hand and taking it by the ear in another, lifting it's head up, and then screamed something incoherent in its ears.
Scar then stood up, the mutilated pile of flesh behind him forgotten. He panted, but walked as if his spine was supported by a pole, his legs too rigid to walk in anything but a disciplined march, and even his closed and bloody eye seemed to look down on the world. He held this posture as he marched over to his bag, reached down, pulled out his Akim, pointed it into the forest, and- firing with his non dominant hand through his non-dominant eye, pulled the trigger once.
The effect was immediate; the gun barked twice-a sound that put every other weapon to shame- and the silence that Scar had somehow managed to maintain by force of will was split by two roars, one from the now writhing battered creature that Scar had left in his wake, and a pained roar from a source unseen.
Scar moved both feet forward quickly in two rapid steps, dropped to one knee, and pulled the trigger again smoothly, the gun barked twice more, and the unfamiliar roars subsided.
Four stars tore through the air at Scar, who did not attempt to dodge them, and in a brief instant a dark shadow passed between them, and Robert was again knocked onto his ass, right before Scar. The bloodied man looked down at Robert briefly, apathetic, then extended a hand down to the wheezing one that had just saved his life, and helped to pull him up. Robert seemed to find his footing quickly, and opened his mouth, only to be interrupted when Scar reached for the submachine gun at the soldier's side, quickly reversed his grip, and jammed the gun into his face, sending him back to the ground with blood down his nose. Scar pointed a bloody finger at him and mouthed something I could not hear, and Robert nodded profusely.
Scar then returned to his full, commanding height and yelled to me, "Fetch it with him!" I too, nodded profusely, still unsure of what to make of the sheer quantity of violence I had witnessed from two individuals, the raw brutality of one, and his seeming indifference to it. My legs were in motion without much thought, my feet mowing down a shrub that stood between me and my quarry; another ursaring, much smaller, perhaps the same one we had encountered this morning. Two large holes opened up it's chest, form which blood spilled out profusely from, and two more beneath it's jaw, which opened up to the back of it's head, which was blown apart. Robert said something to me, but I couldn't make out his words, everything muffled as it was, even the pained roars of the ursaring on the road sounded like mere mutterings.
Robert and I both took a hind leg and began dragging the carcass into the road, furthering Scar's masterstroke. The body was deceptively small and light, though it had frightened me terribly just earlier that day; it was barely taller and heavier than Robert himself, and probably lighter than Scar. The corpse was dumped in the center of the road.
"What in the Arceus forsaken fuck is this!?"
And with that I snapped back to reality, my senses clearing, no longer a mere cog in the events unfolding. I smelled the blood in the air, my ears filled till overthrowing with the screams and roars of the defeated creature, saw Rui trembling where I left her on the road, both hands covering her ears as she curled in on herself, attempting to appear small among the gravel.
I both saw and felt Scar, his body trembled as he approached, still panting, his single exposed eye opened and filled with blood as he approached, body stoic, but I felt nothing from his bloody gaze, no fear, no exhaustion, no anger or desperation, not even exhilaration, which I thought I would have feared the most.
I was wrong.
His sheer stoicism infuriated me, how he so easily ignored the suffering, dying cries of the foe that refused to go quietly in the night, I pointed an accusatory finger in its direction, and yelled, "Kill it already, stop fucking around!"
Scar looked at me briefly, then back to the suffering creature, and then back to me, speaking between pants, "No time." He gestured with one hand to his ear, while the other held some kind of ball, "Noise...too much. Its noise may...preserve us."
And then his other hand opened slightly, fingers rearranging his grip on it, and with a light tink the grenade's pin hit the ground.
"HOLY FUCK, THAT'S A GRENADE."
Scar nodded, and he spoke calmly as I backed away cautiously, "It is...my giving for... survival of us."
Scar ignored Robert as he scrambled away, and instead kicked over the shot-up corpse, flipping it onto stomach, and, reaching into his pocket, began tinkering under the corpse, before quickly backing away, hands empty. "You have Rui now...calm her, we must go."
He turned, "Foolish soldier, you help me with bags now...privileges for guns are lost." Scar panted, throwing his weapons bag over his shoulder, picking up his Akim and holding it against his (more significantly) injured side, and began walking at a brisk pace. Robert scrambled quickly, like a rat in the dust to gather everything else on the road, and scoop it into Scar's other bag. I shook my head, realizing just twenty minutes ago, he had looked down on me, and now, because he was willing to do something that I desired but was unable to do, our positions were reversed.
I walked over to Rui, and crouched down, seeing her face contorted in pain and terror- not the fear that sent one scrambling to action, but the terror that froze someone in place, whilst her eyes darted in all directions, attempting to find something, anything in the sea of darkness. I knelt down slowly, and tapped her shoulder twice, she recoiled. But when I repeated the action she was still, and she slowly removed her hands from her ears, grimacing. The roaring crescendoed to its peak, and she again started, "What is that!?"
I put both hands on her shoulders and stared her in her dead eyes, speaking in a hushed, soothing tone, "Nothing important, I will explain later, but we are safe for now. It's my turn to carry you now, so come one, let's go."
Rui hesitated, which I had expected, after all she was neither deaf nor stupid, but she bit her lip, and after a moment's pause nodded, and held both arms out in front of her, taking it as my cue, I turned around, placed her hands on my shoulders, which she wrapped around my neck, and I rose to a standing position, and tucked my arms under her legs with such ease that it seemed as if I had done it a hundred times before.
'Arceus, she's a bit heavier than she looks. Scar carried her for hours?'
Then again, given what I just saw, that was much less surprising.
Turning such thoughts aside, I jogged ahead with Rui on my back, Robert finally gathering everything into the bag, trailed behind me, and we reformed our spear, Scar at the tip, now battered, but ready for action, myself trailing behind him and to the left, glancing about calmly for any sign of trouble, humming short tunes to soothe both myself and Rui, while Robert glanced about more frantically, searching for anything that could mean trouble.
Not twenty minutes later, a large BANG echoed through the valley. I looked back down the road in the direction we came from with worry. Robert looked back down the road in the direction we came from with worry. Rui looked back down the road in the direction we came from with worry. But Scar never did.
In case you were still wondering if Scar was a badass.
Well, I think I'm satisfied with how this chapter worked out, even if I had to cut it in half...again. This arc will conclude in the next one, I promise. Your thoughts on this one would be appreciated, as we're actually starting to see the moving parts insofar as character development...well, moving, and this was the first drawn out fight (there will likely be quite a few more by the end of this story), so criticism would be helpful in preventing me from making any mistakes here going forward.
Additionally, I've already completed 2/3rds of my original draft for the squirtle line entry in" Pokewars, and Orrean Rangers Guide to things you should not be fighting"...granted, not sure when that one's going to be up. Last chapter felt like it was missing a certain something, so I'm probably going to tear it a new one a few times to try to bring the entertainment level consistent with the earlier content. As for when the next installment of this story and the (final) conclusion of this little mini arc...I dunno. Already started on it, it'll probably be short, know what I want to do with it, but the next few days are gonna be hectic, and by God, I want to finish that chapter for my Fire Emblem story, but I'm at a slump with one of the character interactions, and it's been holding me up for...by God, six months.
Of course, knowing me, I'll probably manage a couple of sloppy paragraphs, and hop back into Pokewars.
Bit longer than I promised, three weeks as opposed to the one, but...eh, stuff happens. Wound up wiping my hard drive, and the backed up version wasn't really complete, and working on it gave me time to wonder exactly what direction I wanted this fight to go in (Well, aside from the good guys winning, I suppose). After that went on a hunting trip with my sister and grandparents (an unsuccessful one... all the bucks weren't coming out until two in the morning), and then I got a letter of reaccaptance back to my university...so there was that ongoing scramble.
Keep it classy and all that crap.
