Legend Killer 6

Warning: Torture, violence, and swearing.

Nexus:

Barrett = Sheriff

Otunga, Slater and Gabriel = Deputies

Banker = Michael McGillicutty

Aide to the Mayor = Husky Harris

Michael Tarver

Darren Young

Skip Sheffield

The Nexus and Dean were barely out of sight and Seth's only thought was to find Roman. He figured Roman had to be nearby, that they wouldn't leave Dean alone with so many Nexus around. He scanned the immediate area but didn't see his friend. He had no idea where Randy's hideout was, so going to Orton for help was a no-go. Aside from wandering the streets hoping to get lucky, Seth didn't know what else productive to do. He started walking quickly up the street, pushing past pedestrians and ignoring their indignant looks and comments, scanning for a black horse or a familiar face with long black hair. He didn't see either.

Distant thunder rumbled. The air was completely still. Seth ducked down the adjacent street, repeating the process. No Roman.

Next street.

Nothing.

Next street.

Nothing.

The longer Nexus had Dean, the greater the chance of Dean's being hurt badly or killed. As the precious minutes ticked by, he was almost so frantic he nearly missed Roman's horse standing hitched to a rail near the bank, swishing its tail at flies. Seth hurried over and untied it. It gave him a puzzled look as only a horse can but Seth ignored it at he swung up into the saddle. He figured if he couldn't find Roman, then at least he could bring the black horse to the jail and hope Roman came looking for it. He was just turning the horse in the direction of the jail when someone grabbed the bridle and the horse jerked to a stop, nearly spilling Seth over its neck. Seth clutched the saddle trying to regain his balance.

"What the hell, Seth?" Roman asked. He was dressed in new clothes and his hair tied back. A new hat was pulled down over his eyes.

"Nexus has Dean," Seth said, his voice low as he slid down off the horse. "They think he knows where Orton is."

Roman's eyes widened. "Shit," he said. "Where did they take him?"

"The jail," Seth answered. "There were four of them, including Barrett."

That was more than Roman could take on at once and he knew it. "Mark, if you're around I need to talk to you," he said to the air around them. Suddenly he felt the Saint's presence. He turned to the spirit and instructed, "Nexus has Dean. They think he knows where Orton is and there are more of them than I can handle. Tell Orton we need him here now!"

The Saint's face was as expressive as granite as he disappeared.

Seth, despite not quite being used to Roman talking to thin air, breathed a sigh of relief. Randy's presence was vital if they were to rescue Dean in time.

They started walking up the street toward the jail, Roman leading the horse. The streets were getting a bit emptier as people hurried about their business and glancing up at the sky. The white fluffy tops of the clouds were showing their iron gray bottoms as they finally came into sight over the mountains. Lightning flashed.

They were nearing the jail when the Saint reappeared beside Seth. 'Orton's on his way. He says he is going to create a diversion so wait for his signal.'

"Tell him to hurry," Roman replied.

'Not your personal messenger service, kid,' the Saint grumbled as he disappeared again.

"How long do you think it will take?" Seth asked. He had snagged Dean's horse on the way by and was leading it by the reins. After seeing their determined strides and set looks, people were ducking out of the duo's way.

Roman shook his head. "No idea," he said. "Orton's a ways away and he'll need some time to get the distraction going. We'll have to be patient and hope that Dean can hold out." He was worried, though. Dean was tough but if the Nexus decided that Dean was withholding information about Randy's whereabouts, they would stop at nothing to get it. In any case, Dean was in deep trouble. Hang in there, Dean. We're coming, he thought as he exchanged worried glances with Seth.

"I'm going to go in there and try to stall," Seth announced as they neared the jail. He shoved Dean's horse's reins at Roman who refused to take them.

"No!" Roman said. Seeing Seth's stubborn look, Roman said sternly, "Those are demons in there, Seth. They are sadistic and wouldn't hesitate to kill or turn you solely for their amusement. I know Dean is in danger but we can't afford to lose you either."

Knowing Roman was right, but hating not being able do anything, Seth settled beside Roman and did the hardest thing he had ever done in his life: waiting helplessly while his friend was probably being tortured.

Inside the jail, Sheriff Barrett had ordered his three deputies take Dean to a back room. The only light in the room was from a single high barred window. They had stripped him of his weapons and tied his wrists above his head securely with a rope that had been tossed over a crossbeam holding up the ceiling. They took the other end of the rope and fashioned a noose, placing it over Dean's head and snugging it up around his neck.

"What are you doing?" John demanded. "You can't do that. He isn't a prisoner; you haven't even formally arrested him."

Barrett glanced over at John. "He may know the whereabouts of a wanted murderer. We need to question him."

"Not like this!" John insisted. He clenched his fists at the blatant disregard for due process.

"But this way is more fun," Slater said.

Giving Slater an incredulous look, John's eyes widened when Wade walked up to him. "Cena, you will do exactly as I say," he ordered. "You will keep your mouth shut and stand over there," he indicated a place by the far wall. "You will not interfere, do you understand?"

Stunned, John found himself unable to resist. He watched, furious, as the three deputies and the Sheriff surrounded the prisoner like wolves, but he was unable to form any sort of protest. The lack of control over his body was horrifying and he found himself shaking at the effort it took to move even slightly.

Barrett waited until Slater and Otunga to finish securing Dean. Stepping forward, he looked into Dean's eyes, that malicious smile never leaving his face.

Outside thunder rumbled again, low and menacing.

If hanging from a rope fastened to the ceiling surrounded by the Nexus worried him, Dean's expression didn't show it. Despite the gravity of his situation he looked confident, almost cocky. He gave Barrett a mocking smile. He knew that John had meant well but following due process meant nothing to the Nexus. He figured that he would have to stall to give Roman and Seth time. He had seen Seth's face as Nexus was dragging him away and knew his friends were going to rescue him.

"What's your name, boy?" Barrett asked as he walked slowly around Dean.

Dean wasn't intimidated. He waited without moving until Barrett stopped in front of him again. "Jon Moxley," he answered. "Why am I here? Like the Marshal over there said, I didn't break the law." He hated the greasy feeling of the Nexus in close proximity. It was especially strong given their numbers. It made him twitch involuntarily.

Still studying Dean closely, Barrett said, "If you must know, we brought you here because we have a question."

Dean's eyebrows shot up. He shifted his weight back, exuding confidence. "Sheriff, if you've got a question to ask me...just ask."

Barrett's eyes narrowed, a little puzzled off by his prisoner's complete lack of fear but he plowed ahead anyway. "Do you know where Randy Orton is?"

"Nope," Dean answered immediately. Cocky bastard that he was, he didn't bother to try to be convincing and waited expectantly for what he knew was coming.

Without warning Barrett backhanded Dean hard across the face. Dean almost lost his balance and the insidious nature of the rope configuration became clear to John. If Dean tried to keep his balance by grabbing onto the rope as leverage, he would hang himself. And ff he tried to lower his arms, he would strangle. Dean's continued breathing depended solely on his being able to stand up with his arms raised above his head.

Shaking his head to clear it, Dean looked up at Barrett again, grinning mockingly despite the split lip. Irritated, Barrett sucker punched him, driving his fist deep into Dean's midsection and all the air out of his lungs. Dean fought the instinct to double over as the noose tightened around his neck.

"This one thinks he's tough, boys," Barrett observed as he stepped back. The deputies laughed and elbowed each other. "We're going to see how tough you really are," Barrett said, leaning towards Dean. Slater stepped forward and drew his knife. He started cutting away Dean's shirt, until it was in chunks by his feet. Barrett eyed the large red scar running down the length of Dean's forearm.

Dean knew this was going to get ugly, but his innate hatred for the Nexus was strong and helped sustain him. A strong presence suddenly filled his mind.

'The others are on their way. Hang in there, boy,' the Saint's graveled voice whispered.

Hearing it phrased like that, Dean couldn't help but bark out a laugh. Feeling the Saint's presence was like a balm and Dean knew he could take anything these guys had to dish out. He grinned at Wade.

A flicker of surprise showed in Barrett's face. He drew back and regarded Dean for a few minutes. "Teach him some manners," he told Otunga, who took out a whip and positioned himself behind Dean. Wade turned to Dean, "One last time, boy. Where is Orton?"

"Fuck you," was Dean's answer. Not being alone made the interrogation a bit more bearable, but it would not make it any less painful.

Wade nodded at Otunga.

The whip came down across Dean's shoulders like a hot brand. For a second, Dean's muscles locked up in shock, and then the true pain hit and his breath hissed between his teeth as he ruthlessly fought the instinct to cry out. He forced himself to stand straight and stare directly at Wade. Otunga swung the whip again, cracking right across the middle of Dean's back.

"Are you going to tell us where Orton is, or do we need to continue?" Barrett asked with his face right up into Dean's.

Dean didn't answer, just smiled a deranged smile, and then spit directly in Wade's face. Wade backhanded Dean across the face again, whipping Dean's head to the side. Dean huffed out a breath, then started to chuckle. "Is that all you got?" he demanded.

"Where. Is. He? " Wade demanded, each word punctuated with a punch to Dean's guts. Barrett was infuriated that the beating wasn't having an effect on Dean.

Dean just shook his head; his chest and sides were slick with sweat. He could feel his ribs cracking with each blow.

Wade curled his lip into a snarl. "Again," he commanded. Otunga cracked the whip three more times in rapid succession. Livid bruising was standing out on Dean's back against the red welts. One welt started to bleed, bright red rivulets against Dean's pale skin.

Rolling his eyes, Gabriel, the practical one said, "We don't have time for this, Wade. Let's just make him one of us. Then we'd know everything he knew."

Studying Dean, Wade nodded slowly. "Fine." Barrett jerked his head at Slater, who left the room briefly, returning with a dark jug of liquid. "Hold him," Slater said to Gabriel who gripped Dean's face in his hands. Dean thrashed against the hands holding him still; but the rope around his neck was tightening as he struggled. They poured the stinking, burning liquid down Dean's throat, forcing him to swallow some despite his best efforts to spit it out. Feeling it burn down into his stomach, he started to panic, but the Saint was there. 'It won't make you one of them. I won't allow it.' said the Saint, reassuring. 'But it will probably make you sick. Be strong.'

"Easy for you to say," Dean mumbled as he choked and coughed. The burning receded slightly but darkness was starting to float around the edges of his vision. Inhaling deeply, Dean shook his head, trying to clear it. "Want to know how I got that scar?" he asked, seemingly at random. Barrett glanced again at Dean's arm. "The demon-bitch Abigail did that," he drawled with a smirk, feverish eyes gleaming through his messy hair. "She tried to drain my blood and use me as a sacrifice…right before I shot her in the head with a Colt Walker."

There was a collective intake of breath as the room went still. "He's one of the Saint's men," Otunga said, eyes wide.

'You really don't know when to shut your mouth, do you boy?' the Saint sighed; amused, annoyed, and exasperated all at once. 'Enjoy being in pain, do you?'

"I thought so," Barrett said softly, his eyes triumphant. "Well, you're not Orton but you'll do as a warm up until we get him."

In the corner, John watched not understanding the conversation between Moxley and Barrett; and for the first time in his life was feeling hopelessly, helplessly out of his depth. He became aware of several more men entering the room. He had no idea who they were but Barrett seemed to know and welcome their presence. By the way they talked to each other John figured they all knew what was going on. He gritted his teeth in frustration.

"You know you're days are numbered, don't you Nexus? There'll be no going back to hell for you," Dean promised, his voice slurring a bit. Laughing, Barrett stroked Dean's swelling cheek.

"It's been tried it before. Orton himself couldn't kill us all."

"Are you sure that Orton is the only other one hunting you right now?" Dean asked. "How do you know there aren't more of us?"

"Oh I know," Barrett assured him. "The stars tell us."

Dean's eyes widened in recognition right before Slater raised his knife and slashed him across the ribs. Blood ran freely down his side, soaking the waist of his pants. Slater made a complete circuit around Dean, slicing at his chest, back and sides. "Pretty," he grinned.

Deputy Otunga raised the whip. The motion was stopped by a voice. "Stop," John said, sweating with strain against whatever was holding him still. "This isn't right!"

Stalking over to John, Gabriel studied him for a second, and then sucker punched him hard in the stomach. John doubled over under the force of the blow and he gasped for breath, but he didn't lose his balance. He straightened up and faced Justin head on, contempt on his face.

"Keep quiet, Cena," Justin said softly, "until we get to you."

"What about him?" Slater indicated to Cena with his bloody knife. "If Orton's around, we'll need as many of us as possible to put him down."

"You're right," Wade answered. "Cena should join us now. Imagine having a genuine US Marshal as a member of the Nexus," he mused, and then jerked his head at the new men. "Young, you and Sheffield get started on Cena. The rest of us will find out where Orton is."

The two men Barrett had named moved over to where Cena was standing. One of them, Sheffield, grinned. "I love to see humans' expressions when they realize too late what is really going on."

Wade turned back to Dean, who was fighting valiantly against the demon blood's effects, but losing. He could feel his legs getting numb. "Hey Nexus," Dean taunted as he drew a slow breath, trying to focus his eyes. "I'm going to kill you." He raised his head and glanced around at each present member of the Nexus. "All of you."

The look of hatred on Barrett's face was very satisfying to Dean, as was the Saint's chuckle in his mind. "So you're not going to cooperate. Fine, we are just getting started," Barrett said and kicked Dean's legs out from underneath him.

Outside, Roman and Seth were still waiting. Tense, they scanned the horizon. "C'mon, c'mon," Roman was muttering. "Dammit Orton, hurry the fuck up."

"Do you know what his signal is going to be?" Seth asked.

Roman shook his head, but then a wisp of smoke curling straight up in the still air caught his attention. As the seconds progressed, the smoke became thicker. Roman straightened up in understanding. "Plan B! That's got to be the signal," Roman said just as the Saint appeared.

'Get in there kid,' the Saint said. 'Orton set the bank on fire. After they leave, get Ambrose out of there.'

Roman nodded to Seth, "It's the bank. Let's go," and they both hurried into the jail. Roman hung back when he saw the large number of Nexus standing in a hallway but Seth, not as affected by the demons' presence, headed right towards them. "Sheriff Barrett! The bank is on fire!" he shouted, sounding appropriately panicked. That brought Barrett out, his eyes wide and furious.

"God fucking dammit!" he screamed. Seth paused, affecting a startled, submissive posture. Barrett apparently decided that he was inconsequential and turned to the people inside the room, outside of Seth's line of vision. "Slater, Otunga and McGillicutty, you're with me. The rest of you, finish this up!" he ordered as the four of them left the jail at a run. In their haste, they didn't notice Roman standing in the shadows.

As soon as it was clear, Seth and Roman hurried to the room where the Nexus had been gathered. They stopped dead in the doorway, eyes wide at the sight of Dean hanging from the rope, blood dripping from his back and sides, his face red as he slowly strangled to death. Two men stood next to him, obviously not happy at being interrupted by Seth and Roman.

"What the hell you lookin at?" one of them snapped. The other put a hand on his revolver.

"Get away from him," Roman snarled at the two Nexus members. He felt the Saint's presence come forward and the Colt Walker coalesce into existence. He knew then he was going to have to kill the Nexus members, leaving Seth to handle things until Orton got there. Fuck, he needed Randy to get his ass here, pronto. Reading his thoughts, the Saint said, 'Orton's on his way.'

Darren Young glared at Roman. "Do you know who you're dealing with?" he growled, a knife held to Dean's side, whose face was turning purple.

"Do you?" Roman said, his voice a crawling, grinding sound. He drew the two Colts, pointing them on the demon collective in front of him. He saw the exact second realization hit, their subsequent panic and they reached for their guns.

With no alternative Roman fired. The thunder of the guns was hideously loud in the enclosed space, the echo screaming into nightmares. Both Darren Young and Skip Sheffield died immediately. And Roman, with two new holes punched through his soul, passed out. Seth was at Dean's side in a flash cutting him down. Dean drew a deep, whooping breath, eyes closed as he lay on the floor. Seth glanced over at John, who still stood frozen off to the side, his eyes wide as he stared at something behind Seth.

"Wow, he was just a fledgling," Michael Tarver observed from the doorway, prodding Roman's body with a foot. "He couldn't even fire those things twice before he went down." He looked at his dead companions with no remorse. "Sorry mates, but as you know, there are many more of us waiting to get up here to replace you."

Seth placed himself between Dean and Tarver, but Tarver ignored him. Instead he drew his weapon. "I know Wade would probably want to play with him for a bit, but honestly, the Saint's guys just need to die," he said as he pointed his gun at Roman.

"No!" shouted Seth drawing his gun, knowing he couldn't draw it fast enough.

An unearthly revolver thundered from the doorway. The man known as Tarver dropped dead, a surprised look on his face.

John felt whatever hold the Nexus had over him finally dissipate. His body, free from the poisonous influence collapsed on the floor. From his hands and knees, he looked up to see a tall man standing behind Tarver's corpse, holding a ridiculously big revolver in his hand. It looked exactly like one of the weapons that Seth's companion had wielded.

"Good timing," Seth greeted the man as if he knew him.

"Rollins," the man said in acknowledgement. His voice sounded like gravel and ghosts and cobwebs, and John involuntarily shuddered. The man holstered his gun and stepped over Tarver and into the room. He looked down at Dean, seeing the blood and bruises all over his torso and shook his head. "Cocky brat," he said. He glanced up at Seth and reached out and took Seth's chin, staring into his eyes for a few, long seconds.

John noted how Seth went passive under that stare, holding his hand carefully away from his revolver. Seth's eyes were wide though, like he was a little unsure of what the man was going to do or was maybe even a little bit wary of him. Then the newcomer nodded at Seth and turned him loose. Then he turned to John and easily hauled him to his feet by the front of his shirt. Now John found himself frozen in an ice-cold gaze, as if the man were searching for something in John's soul. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Seth motioning to let the man do whatever it was he was doing. Right before he released John, it looked like the man's eyes changed color but that might have been a trick of the light, which was rapidly dimming as the storm continued to roll in. Satisfied, the man seemed to lose interest in him and went to Ambrose who was still lying on the floor, now completely unconscious. Ignoring John and Seth, he shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over Dean's bare bloody shoulders.

"You okay?" Seth asked John.

"I think so," John said, not entirely sure what was going on. He nodded to the stranger. "Are you going to introduce me to our rescuers?" John asked Seth as he fixed his shirt.

Grimacing, Seth glanced over at John's revolver which was still on his belt. The confident Nexus hadn't bothered to disarm him. Shifting slightly so he was between John and the newcomer, his hand near his own gun, Seth said, "US Marshal John Cena, meet Randy Orton."

TBC