193. The Earth Must Bleed part 8

The crowd around the arena were silent in the flickering light of the bright blaze.

A good many of them blinked and a good fewer of them murmured amongst themselves. As glorious as bloody deaths were that evening, it was of no consolation to any side of the betting game if both players in the cage match perished.

There was a whining noise, followed by the crackling speakers as the announcer's voice broke the silence:

"Snnkkkt—Wow! Now isn't that a show! These combatants are hardcore, folks! They'll fight right down to the last smoldering atom! Be patient as our crew clears the battleground!"

A squadron of half-a-dozen or so men with large fire extinguishers rushed into the arena. They trained their combined hoses onto the flaming silver cage and began fighting back the dancing plasma.

The audience watched on, mute.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Rexxin sighed through his nostrils. He glanced sideways at his boss. "Kinda got extreme there, don't you think?"

"Mmmmmm…," Jacob Anderson smiled, staring at the billowing scene. "Perhaps."

"That sorta cuts the last four into a last three," Rexxin muttered. He leaned forward with his eyes thin beneath his scar. "Must I order my men to scrounge up Empress or Pantha or some other near-runner up loser?"

"Not yet…," Anderson raised a finger before folding his hands together. "Let the flames die down, first."

"Sir, they're both dead," Rexxin gestured. "You've proven that this is a slaughter fest. Look for yourself! You're losing gladiators left and right!"

"Indeed," a smile crescented across the leader's face. "And what good it has been doing as of late too. Roulette and her pitiful 'meta-bowl' can run and hide. This is where the money is at. Here in Las Vegas. Underground. In my Domain…."

"Don't forget, sir," Rexxin spoke. "The original plan required a final four. Technically, we can acquire three at most. What with Killer Croc doing some dirty work on the inside and—"

"Even if we have three…there's one final test I want to give them," Anderson hummed.

"Yeah…well….," Rexxin gazed once more at the flames. "Good luck with that now."

"Shhh……look."

Rexxin craned his neck.

"Has it slipped you so swiftly, Rexxin?" Anderson spoke. "That our talented little Wyldecarde is a former Titan?"

Rexxin's lips parted.

As the flames cleared into pillars of smoke, two figures could be seen slumped on the outer arena floor just beyond the metal and plastic barriers of the silver cage.

Anderson dripped: "The stranger with the silver fingers and the brute with the horns are formidable and violent on their own. But there's a purpose in that one." He pointed at a smoking figure kneeling by a female archer. "I think now I know why I was assigned here. By Dagger most especially."

Rexxin looked curiously at Anderson.

The burgundy-robed man murmured: "The Parasite. He hungers for the missing pieces of his palette. East where the land meets the sea, Dagger's battleground turned into the feasting table for the very scourge of our Triangular. But the little red bird that bit the dust all over the news and airwaves was but an appetizer. The Parasite is after Dagger's prize. If he gets the girl, all is lost to us. Especially right now as we speak. But another tender morsel is that Wyldecarde. And if we draw him in and seize the rogue…..well….."

A beat.

Rexxin blinked.

Anderson stared out at the smoking arena as the applause of half-relieved audience members filled the air.

"….we can finally get a meter for where the Parasite is at. We can trace the spirit of Red through that swordsman there as a vessel. For—if you've noticed yourself, Rexxin—he isn't the same reaper that danced around Dagger's playground over a week ago."

"What is he, then?" Rexxin murmured. "Why is he so important, boss?"

"He is important because he is a pansy," Anderson chuckled. "A pansy that kicks ass. He is the opposite of the Parasite. At the same time, he is just as powerful." His eyes narrowed. "And just as dangerous to Triangular."

Rexxin took a shuddering breath. "We should have him shot. B-Before the final rounds!"

"Mmmmm…..no," Anderson said.

Rexxin's lips parted-

Anderson raised a finger. "We should use him. Because doing so will make us closest to the Parasite than ever we have been."

Rexxin shuddered: "You know Dagger's not going to like that. That's like playing with fire."

"Dagger doesn't need to know."

The chief of security winced, his red highlighted hair seemingly deflated. "Dagger knows everything…"

"Then let him watch," Anderson exhaled with a grin. "I'm about to do an experiment of my own."

"Sir?"

"Observe….," and Anderson stood up.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

I panted.

The tips of my bandanna and hair bands were smoking.

I had ashes littering my metal-mesh suit from my having teleported the two of us out of the explosion and ensuing blaze.

I sat on my knees, cradling an unconscious Arrowette with her blonde head in my lap.

I felt her neck with a flesh hand, but didn't need to do it. I could tell she was alive. Breath escaped her pink lips and her body stirred. Very much in tact.

I let out a relieved sigh.

"WINNER! WYLDECARDE!"

I couldn't help but shudder at that.

How far is this damn tournament gonna go?

I looked across the arena as men around me continued to spray the burning cage.

Wildebeest sat inside an alcove with his arms crossed. He gazed at me from the shadows, and there was a stirring of his lips.

A smile?

My cracked-goggles scanned the other alcoves.

Hull was sharpening his blade still. Like a habit. His mysterious mind elsewhere.

A few feet away, Killer Croc furiously and repetitively hammered the wall of his alcove with a fist. He formed dents and caused shrapnel to peel off and litter the floor. He looked at me across the floor with green, slimy eyes and snickered. He raised his two scaly fists and showed the blood on his knuckles. The blood he didn't mind leaking from himself. A hissing snicker turned into a chuckle and then a fading cackle as he resumed hammering the walls.

I took a deep breath.

Arrowette stirred in my lap.

I patted her shoulder, laid her down, and hobbled up to my feet.

'You are full of surprises, young hobbit.'

I blinked under my goggles.

I gazed up at the metal rafters above the arena.

I tried to imagine a pink girl and a blonde gunsmith hiding in the shadows. And somewhere beyond, a dear and dearer friend.

'Gotta hand it to you, Noir…,' the Messenger's voice crackled in my ear. '…you have a wonderful habit of saving the lives of sexy femmes.'

I smirked somewhat.

And then….

"Snkkkkkkt!"

The announcer's speaker system was taken over.

But by whom?

The audience silenced and even the firefighting crew stuttered to a stop as a dripping voice filtered through the sound system.

"Dear, Dear Wyldecarde. Quite a talent you have of saving my guests' bets……"

I took a deep breath.

And frowned.

Anderson……

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

"Not to mention a talent of saving the very people you're endeavoring to thrash into pieces. Almost too gentlemanly, I might add…"

Pulsade and Jinx eyed the speakers all around them as the voice boomed through the interior.

Jinx made a face. "Ick! He sounds like a really, really horny Ron Perlman or something."

"Shhh!" Pulsade hissed. "This is something different. Lend an ear…."

The two girls craned their necks over the railing.

"Tell me, swordsman….."

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Anderson stood in his balcony, leaning over the side.

A microphone held daintily to his lips.

He smiled and purred: "….why do you wield a blade like a staff? I could have sworn that weapons of that sort were made for cutting and slicing your opponents, not whacking them senseless. Are you certain you were not meant to have….oh….a big stick of sorts? You aren't compensating for something by chance….?"

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

A chuckle flew through the crowd.

Women giggled with their jewelry rattling.

Men doubled over, howling.

Even the warbling laughter of Killer Croc's big throat echoed forth.

I took a deep breath and clenched my sword.

'Uhhh……okay. This guy never gets out of the house. Don't listen to him, Noir.'

I exhaled.

You don't need to defend me from everything……

"This would be a perfect opportunity to show the true colors you were born to uphold! Make use of that sword, Wyldecarde! You see the prone damsel before you. The one who so ruthlessly tried to end your life and nearly accomplished such with a t'wing of her bow. It wouldn't take much to end her. To slit her throat. Go on. There is nothing stopping you."

"…….," I slowly glared up at the balcony. A the burgundy figure leaning over the side. The lunacy shining off his pale face even from that distance. My metal fist clenched.

I stood my ground.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

"What is the matter?" Anderson cooed into the mic. He licked his lips. "Shy? Hesitant? You are young yet and still you have seen so much blood here today. You've smelled its copper taste. What harm would it be to…..spill some more?"

The robed man's last words were laced with a heavy breath.

Even Rexxin shifted uncomfortably, tapping his fingers against his walkie talkie hiding behind his suit.

"Fine then," Anderson said after an uncomfortable pause. His voice echoed throughout the smokey, hazy interior as he went on: "I'll make it easier for you…"

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

The audience members craned their necks and listened.

"If you stab her through the gut right now……"

A beat.

I took a deep breath.

My black eyes narrowed during the dramatic pause.

"……I will give the tournament trophy to you."

My heart stopped.

"The Vault will be opened immediately for you and you alone. The reining 'champion' of this match."

So did everybody else's heart.

A smile.

The distant figure above the balcony gazed across the crowd.

"And I'll give everyone here double their normal winnings for participating."

A rush of roaring cheers and thunderous applause filled the chamber.

My lips parted.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Rexxin did a double-take at Anderson.

He went pale all over.

He cleared his throat and said: "Uhm…..sir?"

Anderson merely smiled, his eyes trained on the swordsman.

"S-Sir?"

Anderson held a hand up, silencing the security chief.

Rexxin bit his lip.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Cheers: "Wyldecarde! Wyldecarde! Wyldecarde! Wyldecarde!"

The audience stomped their feet.

They waved their arms and howled out at me through cupped hands.

My name.

Demanding: "Cut her! Cut her! Cut her!"

I felt a shiver up my left, metal prosthetic.

I gripped my titanium wrist.

Shaking all over.

Rrrrred Aviarrrrryy……

I panted. Sweating in my Wyldecarde getup.

I glanced through the corner of my cracked goggles.

I saw Wyldecarde shifting uncomfortably in the shadows.

Killer Croc seemed unaffected.

But Hull…

I pivoted my head.

He stood halfway out of his alcove. Partially bathed in the electric light. His exotic sword in his grasp. He stared at me across the arena with stone-blue eyes. Still. Patient—and yet laced with a sense of uncertainty and learning all the same. He waited on me. He observed me.

The move that I would make….

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

"Bugger all….," Pulsade gritted her teeth. "This throws a wrench into the whole bloody thing!"

Jinx stared over the railing. Her face straight. Her cat eyes thin.

Pulsade gripped the electronic device in her ear and hissed: "'J'? 'J'? You little sod, come in! That namby pamby wine-guzzler is turning his own tourney all arse-over-elbow! Hack into the electrical system and rig the pyrotechnic show to fry his bloomin' head off or else I'll shoot it myself! Bugger all!"

"Shhh….," Jinx suddenly murmured. "Take it easy, Leslie."

Pulsade pointed a frustrated finger. "But!"

Jinx held a frilled hand up. "He's not going to do it."

"What?"

Jinx leaned over and pointed at the swordsman. "Watch. He's not going to do it. I swear…."

Pulsade nervously gazed down towards the arena floor.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

"Cut her! Cut her! Cut her!"

I breathed slowly.

Fuming.

"Well, Mr. Wyldecarde?!"

I looked down at Arrowette.

She stirred, wincing.

Bruised.

Singes on the corners of her red blouse and white skirt.

Beast Boy's relentless tears.

Starfire's wailing voice.

Stomping feet.

Hull's gazing eyes.

Cyborg short-circuiting.

Raven hugging herself in the shadows.

Chanting.

Waving.

Beating.

Beating…

Beating……

Schoolbuses full of children exploding.

People gunned down in the streets.

Smoke rising from the City.

Robin engulfed in flames.

Terra's statue.

Gone.

Gone……

Terra………

"Will you take the opportunity…….that is given to you?"

I let out a hot breath.

I looked down.

A spilled quiver of red arrows….

"Cut her throat already! Spill the blood and claim your prize—"

GRIP!

I grabbed an arrow, lifted it from the floor, encased it with murk, spun my body, and—with a snarl—flung it across the arena towards the balcony.

SWIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISH!—

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

The black arrow soared into the balcony.

Streaked over Anderson's skull.

Parted his white and black hair.

And-

CLANK!

Flew into the rear wall besides Rexxin with trailing smoke and cobweb cracks eating into the structure.

Gasps and even a shriek from the crowd.

Rexxin immediately shouted into his walkie-talkie.

Anderson stood perfectly still.

"…………"

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

I stood beside Arrowette, fuming.

A dozen suited thugs ran into the arena from all sides.

They aimed uzzis at my lone figure.

Cl-Clak!

Clak!

Cl-Cl-Clak!

I had a dozen laser pointers twirling over my skin and metal mesh.

They all stood still, their fingers at the trigger.

I stood still.

Staring at Anderson.

Not once tearing my face from his.

"………"

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Rexxin panted. He looked at his boss with forlorn, worried eyes. He held the walkie-talkie up to his lips. With just one shout, the command to fire would be given.

"……………….," Anderson stared. His face stone. His finger still on the mic.

Silent.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

"………..," I glared up at him.

A beat.

'Well?' the Messenger's breathy voice uttered into my ear. 'What's a polite thing to tell a gentleman like Anderson at a time like this, Noir?'

"…….."

I smirked.

I leaned my head to the side.

Raised my eyebrows above my goggles.

And startled the gunmen all around me as I jerked my metal hand straight up-

FWOOOSH!

-middle finger exposed.

'Heheheheheh! Hell yeah!'

My teeth showed.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

"………."

Anderson smiled.

He dripped into the mic.

"So be it, swordsman…."

Rexxin let out a huge breath.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

The gunmen stepped back, guns lowered.

I stared up at the balcony as a groan of disappointment circulated through the elliptical ring of audience members.

"You, mister rebel, are going straight to the Main Event. The Two Cages of Bloodshed. The final rounds and the final betting to determine….the TRUE winner of the prize. The one worthy of it….and willing to spill guts."

I smirked sarcastically.

Suck……my……-

"Wyldecarde versus Killer Croc!"

I blinked.

The crowd cheered.

"And Wildebeest versus Hull!"

Regained cheers and bloodlusting cries.

"May the night finally culminate!"

Roaring. Stomping. Thunder.

The guards wandered off, eyeing me shiftily.

I took a deep breath and knelt down besides Arrowette's side as she stirred to life.

"Nnnngh….," she looked up at me. Her blue eyes thin. She pursed her lips and uttered: "You…..you didn't end me….wh-why?"

"……..," I shrugged. A smile.

"……..," she leaned her head to the side. "You're…..You're no arena fighter…."

I silently grabbed her shoulders and helped stand her up to her feet.

She leaned on my shoulder and hobbled with me as I marched us to a barren alcove.

"You…..you're a Titan…..aren't you?"

"…….," I was mute.

She leaned in closer to me. "You are! Y-You're that—" she winced, she breathed, she continued hobbling "—dark one who joined back in the Summertime…."

I gazed at her slightly.

'Supergirl, Noir. Superrrrrrrrgirrrrrrrl.'

I gritted my teeth and bopped my right ear.

Owie……

"I know that I'm desperate but….," Arrowette shuddered. "What's a former hero like you doing here?"

"……."

"Don't you actually have FRIENDS to worry about you?"

I exhaled.

They're why I'm here.

They're always why………

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Jinx stood up and gulped. "Well. Fancy that. They fix our boys up with the worst possible killers imaginable this side of the Rio Grande!"

Pulsade glared at her. "Our boys?"

Jinx blushed through her pale visage. "Erm….I-I just mean Wildebeest, of course."

"………."

Jinx sweatdropped. "Seriously, it's not what you think!"

"Yes it is…," Pulsade murmured. She gazed down at the arena. "…and besides, what's so wrong with that?"

Jinx blinked her cat eyes. "L-Leslie?"

"At this point…we need him…," Pulsade whispered. A growling noise from somewhere inside her. She exhaled: "We need the blasted lad….."

"……….."

"Bugger! I hate not being able to kill stupid blokes like him on the spot!"

"Hehehehe…," Jinx leaned over and hugged onto the blonde's shoulder. "I taught it to youuuuuu, didn't I?"

An artery pulsed in Pulsade's forehead. "Watch it, witch. You're not half as lucky as the length of my fist!"

"Hehe….don't I know it?"

"Huh? Oh….Jean!" Pulsade shoved her. "You horny tart, you!"

"Hehehehehe!"

Pulsade tossed her blonde head into a pair of helpless hands as she moaned. "Ohhhhh……We are so divinely doomed…."

"I've always wanted a throw-rug…."

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Anderson tapped his fingers on the edge of the balcony.

Gazing off into space.

Rexxin yanked the arrow out of the back wall. He fingered it and strolled over by the burgundy-robed man's side.

A beat.

"Well, boss?"

"……," Anderson folded his hands together. "When the two matches start…..finalize them."

"….."

"As I had planned."

"Of course, sir," Rexxin bowed his head.

Anderson held a hand up.

"…..," Rexxin handed him the arrow.

Anderson took it, smiled, and waved the security guard off.

Rexxin turned and exited the balcony alcove, squabbling into his walkie talkie.

Anderson gazed as the two cages were filled on opposite sides of the arena.

He twirled the arrow in his fingers. And gradually his grin increased and his eyes flared and something hidden beneath him rose to the surface and hissed as-

CRACK!

-he snapped the arrow in two.

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

Chanting.

Stomping feet.

Flashing lights.

"……..," I stood at my edge of the silver cage. Still singed from Arrowette's exploding arsenal.

"Hresssssshhhhh…..," Killer Croc rotated his neck, cracked it, and flexed his arms as he stood across me. He was easily twice my height. Four times my weight. And I-don't-know-how-many-times as muscular. "Hessssh….heh heh heh….I'm gonna rip your puny balls off!" He reared his claws.

"….." A slight smirk.

Yeah……

CHIIIIIIING!

I whipped Myrkblade out, twirled it, and got into a low…smoking pose.

You go on and do that, champ……

He crouched to meet my face level. His eyes a slimy green.

Green….

"This is it, folks! The moment you've all been waiting for!"

-T-T-T-T-T-T

"The beginning of the end! The road to the biggest earnings! Who's willing to see the blood fly and the money roll out!"

Cheering.

Whistling.

Noise and lights.

"Grrghhh…..," Wildebeest snorted through his nostrils. He flexed his meaty arms and paced his legs apart like a sumo wrestler. His white eyes narrowed under a silver crown.

ShvvvvvvvvVVVV-CLACK!

Hull spun his sword to a stop on the circular hilt. He stood in a nimble pose, one leg bent out and resting on its boot's toe. His other boot flat to the metal slabs. Rusted chains dangled from his belt underneath his leather jacket as his blue eyes hardened on the hulking opponent across him. Silver sparks danced around his metal fingertips.

Wildebeest showed his teeth.

"But wait!"

Wildebeest burped. He looked up, white eyes blinking.

"…..," Hull gazed up at the lights as well.

"What is a gamble if the stakes aren't raised EVEN HIGHER!"

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

I exhaled. My grip on Myrkblade loosened. I tilted my scarred neck up.

"You came here to be treated to the greatest show on earth, ladies and gentlemen! And that is what you're going to get!"

'Whoah……who ordered for anticlimax with extra pepperoni?'

I shrugged to the air.

I was clueless.

But when I glanced down….I noticed…

Killer Croc wasn't phased one bit by this sudden unfolding. He continued glaring at me hungrily. Licking his razor sharp teeth.

My black eyes narrowed under cracked goggles.

What do you know that we don't know, pal?

"Heh heh hresssh….," mucous membrane covered his green eyes.

Green.

I gazed…

My, what green eyes you have……

"There shall not be any more rounds!"

A gasp from the crowd.

I looked up.

Just in time to see a coil of heavy chains lift at the silver cage and golden cage across the domain and—

CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAK!

The cages lifted towards the ceiling.

And we were exposed.

All four of us.

The beast, the killer, the stranger, and myself.

And only three of us were utterly, totally taken off guard.

"There shall be ONE LAST ROUND!"

Howling voices.

Cheers.

A few stood and clapped mightily.

'Hmmm………cute.'

Cute!

I looked down.

Blinking.

A breath.

Crud.

"WILDEBEEST versus KILLER CROC versus WYLDECARDE versus HULL!"

"Yes….feast….FEAST!" Killer Croc practically foamed at the mouth.

I gritted my teeth.

No.

A god damn banquet.

"LET THE MELEE BEGIN!"

And the first one to pounce on me was the closest and the….hungriest.

"HRESSSSHA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"

I took a breath and swung a murk-laden blade at his pouncing hulk of body.

SLASH!