The Mask Shatters

Gaiden

Wallace

"Behold… The life of another through their eyes…"

Her eyes burned themselves into his memory.

He dashed forward, jumping at his enemy. Blade hooking around the officer's throat as he fell forward, slashing it open and revealing a brackish liquid that seemed to be blood.

Her pixie hair, as short as it was beautiful, swaying. She turned away from him, looking over the beautiful scene with a glee that was unlike her.

Wallace jumped up, silent as the grave. The security team scrambled to their feet from the sudden attack Wallace had given them. He twirled the blade in his hand, watching his enemies. Sizing them up.

And the threat level was high.

"E-eliminate the target!" One of the security officers shouted as he staggered in place, his helmet crooked and his baton bent.

Her blouse, blue and white, against a field of greenery and a stream of clearness.

One of the officers nodded and rushed Wallace, his baton high in the air and a riot shield held forward as he attempted to bulldoze the Scotsman. Wallace simply looked at him, and waited.

Her back was turned, and Wallace reached out to her…

The two collided with a heavy crash, with Wallace delivering a kick to the shield, breaking the guard's grip. He reeled backwards, and Wallace brought his blade down, intending to finish it.

She did not respond. She simply stood there, her hands clasped at her waist, staring out over the horizon.

The Shadow's blood sprayed in every direction, coating Wallace as the hook on his sword cut through the fabric and the "flesh"of the officer. He screamed in agony, and Wallace raised his blade once more, closing the distance and hooking into the Shadow's shoulder.

Slowly, she began to blur. Wallace opened his mouth to speak, but could not find the words.

He forced the Shadow to his knees, and tore the blade from its gnawing grip. The Shadow vanished, melting in place, revealing a puddle of black blood and echoes of pain. Wallace looked up, and without a single moment of hesitation in his mind, immediately dashed forward, shoulder-tapping a guard to the floor before finishing him off with a stamp to the neck.

"You're mine!" A voice shouted, and Wallace turned about just in time to catch a swinging baton with the hook of his blade.

She turned to face him, and suddenly she seemed distant. As if she was a tiny dot in Wallace's vision. He shouted in surprise, but only a wheeze responded to his call for alarm.

Wallace grunted under the weight of the guard's attack. The guard drew back his baton, swinging again and staggering Wallace to the side as he blocked it once more. A loud metallic clang sounded off from the attack, as if the baton itself was made of metal.

Wallace attempted to approach her, but every step he took was for naught. He remained in place.

"Nrrrgh…!" The guard screeched, Wallace's balled fist breaking through the glass of his riot helmet. He stumbled and fell, clawing at his glass shredded face. "Eeeeeeah!" He shouted. Wallace turned away, facing another oncoming attacker with a swing of his sword. A sudden adrenaline-fueled anger rose up from within Wallace's veins and spirit.

All the while blood dripped from his knuckles.

He caught the guard in the belly, ripping his stomach open in one swift motion. Wallace swung again, this time catching the guard in the leg and forcing the guard to one knee. The guard tried to retaliate, but Wallace smacked the baton aside, swinging once more and hooking his blade into the guard's unprotected groin.

"OOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAARGGHHHHH!"

Wallace pulled back, lifting the guard up and - with little effort on his part - threw the guard back behind him. He skidded and he slid, blood spraying and smearing from his open wounds, all the while Wallace turned back to face the ever-growing horde of security personnel.

And he did so with an unknown glee.

He called out to this woman, cupping his hands around his mouth as he cried out for her. But she simply watched in silence as the words failed to escape past his lips.

Wallace pulled the wrap from his face, and with one order, a figure appeared behind him.

"Come, Willy Wallace!" He cried out, his accent bleeding adrenaline as William appeared.

She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped, grunting as a red spot formed on her chest.

He pointed, and William obeyed, smashing his polearm into the floor below. The sudden crash echoed in the hallway, sounding off over the klaxons and cries of the security team. Wallace watched silently, and crimson skulls arose from the tip of William's spear.

The red spot grew and it grew. From a tiny patch on her breasts to a puddle that dripped crimson at her stomach.

Blood. And lots of it.

"Holy hell!" One of the guards screamed in terror, backstepping as the skulls flew right for him and his own, his scratchy, incoherent voice shaking and breaking. "What the fuck is with this guy?!"

"No matter!" A larger Shadow loomed, wearing bright yellow and donning a riot helmet. He hefted a large machine gun over his shoulder and quickly lowered it, training it on Wallace. "We must eliminate him! Code Red! Code Red!"

She just stared at him, a neutral look on her face. The sudden awe she had was gone. Replaced by blood and sweat. Wallace began to panic.

The skulls flew like birds towards their targets, and the guards attempted to flee. But it was for naught. The skulls, on impact, exploded into a red, cursed mist.

Leaving nothing behind but the cries of the dead and puddles of brackish blood.

Wallace grunted, for no sound could he make. Instead, they only exchanged stares. From the distance they stood apart, she opened her mouth to speak once more. Wallace wasn't sure if he could hear her, but her words were as clear as day.

The towering security officer exchanged a staredown with Wallace, meanwhile his smaller comrade backed away, mumbling into his radio. His voice was low and panicked. What was said, Wallace could not hear. Instead, he could only hear the growing, bellowing laughter of the machine gun's wielder.

And, then, what sounded like cackling sounded off.

Gunfire, directed at Wallace.

"I loved you…" Is all that she said.

He backed away, dashing down the hall as the guard fired at him. He dodged and he weaved, holes kicking up dust and debris all around him as the bullets failed to meet their mark. He swerved, ducking down into a nearby room. All the while the security officer unleashed a veritable hell upon Wallace, who hid and covered his head. Wood splintered, dust flew, bullets whizzed, and sweat poured down his forehead.

The guard cackled and laughed at this chaotic display, evidently far more manic and depraved than his fellow Shadows. It seemed there was no end to the hellstorm that was being unleashed upon him, and Wallace even thought he could hear loud, booming footfalls approaching him.

They weren't far off.

Wallace gritted his teeth, deciding that he must act before his enemy had a chance to corner him. Without hesitation, and without further thought, he jumped forward into the open, pivoting on his heels and swinging his blade with both hands like a baseball bat.

He felt a sudden jolt in his wrists, and a bright spark blinded Wallace, if only for a moment. He staggered, stumbling backwards onto his rump as he eyed the towering guard.

But suddenly, the gunfire ceased, and the guard grunted, dropping his gun as he fell backwards, collapsing onto the floor and startling his smaller companion as he exploded in a brackish bloody liquid puddle.

"W-what the-?!" The smaller guard cried out.

Wallace, realizing now that he was holding his breath, exhaled into a fit of breathless heaving.

And the guard turned about, looking for help.

Only to realize that he was now alone.

"Oh shit… Oh shit!" The guard cried out, looking back at an approaching Wallace. A butcher with the power of a demon at his beck and call.

Wallace, now, saw only red.

And a lone Shadow destined to die.

Wallace tried to cry, but nothing fell from his eyes. Suddenly, he found himself standing face to face with the woman, and the blood began to pool at her bare feet.

Wallace, at first, only walked. The sudden adrenaline he found himself buried in wearing off as the realization kicked in at all he had just done.

But that realization gave way to further anger.

She mouthed the words again, and Wallace responded much the same, but now he realized something else was off. Looking down at the growing puddle that now drenched his feet, he realized that she was fading away into dust…

"S-s-stay back!" The guard cried out, drawing his sidearm. His inhuman hands shook as he leveled the weapon on Wallace, but Wallace remained undeterred.

At first, it was to protect his only hope of finding the truth…

But now, it became his only means to vent…

He took a step back, watching as she faded away. Then, he reached out swiftly in an attempt to stop it.

But it was to no avail.

She was gone, in the blink of an eye.

"I'm-I'm warning you!" The guard shouted out, attempting to put distance between himself and Wallace. But the Scotsman decided he wasn't having any of it. His walk turned into a light jog, and that light jog turned into a full on sprint.

He fell to his knees, hands buried in the dust that was once her. He sifted and he pulled it apart, attempting to salvage her from the mess that she became, but it was ultimately fruitless.

The sudden rage in his eyes was unmistakable. And the guard whimpered. Before he knew it, before he could react, Wallace was standing before him. He shouted in surprise as Wallace reached down, hooking his blade around the guard's foot and pulling him to the floor - a stray shot firing off as the guard attempted to fight back.

But it was for naught.

Wallace felt the dryness of his cheeks as he tried to cry. But he could shed not a tear, nor make even the smallest whimper of a sound. The dust blew away in the wind, and reality began to set in.

Wallace grunted, all the while the guard began to beg for mercy.

"P-please!" The guard shouted, raising his arms to protect himself. "I'll-I'll give you money! I'll give you a map! I'll do anything! Just don't kill me, please!"

Wallace said nothing, as only anger filled his mind. Swiftly, he rose his blade upwards in both hands, gritting his teeth tightly - so tight that he felt he might chip a tooth but he didn't care.

All he saw was the one who did it. Nothing more.

The guard began to beg and beg even more, and if it could cry, Wallace was sure it would've done so. But Wallace didn't care. It was time.

Shouting in anger…

"I am Wallace!" Wallace shouted aloud above the klaxons and the whimpering mewls of the guard at his feet, his blade hovering above his head, and William standing tall behind him. Proud and taut, smiling as he watched his other self taking charge of the situation. "And I will have my revenge!" He declared.

But suddenly, he stopped himself. Just as he began to bring down his blade, he could've sworn he saw something happen.

The guard below him was no longer there. Uniform and all.

Instead, it was replaced by a young woman.

A woman, younger than him.

A stunning woman.

A familiar woman.

It didn't take long for him to recognize her.

And it seemed like so long ago that they had last seen one another.

Her pixie hair, the old uniform they both used to wear when they were naught but teenagers in school, her beautiful, pale skin, her rich, elegant eyes, and her soft, exquisite lips.

But they were quivering, and tears were streaming down her face. Ruining the once stoic persona she had developed in the time she had known him. Her chest was heaving, revealing the hyperventilation she was experiencing. Her mouth was agape, and Wallace could hear her fear.

Wallace looked at her, tilting his head as she sat there, her slender arms raised above her.

"H-how…?" He murmured. But said nothing more. Instead, he dropped his blade, eyes widened by the sudden appearance.

The guard lowered his arms, eyeing the blade nervously as it clattered and spun at Wallace's feet. Then, he looked back up, his whole body shaking with terror. "How what…?" He asked, his voice quivering in absolute and total fear.

But Wallace said nothing more. With the guard's voice breaking the mirage, revealing Wallace's intended victim once more.

Wallace didn't move. He simply looked at the guard, and then lowered his head.

The guard looked up at him, and then slowly got to his feet, backing away as Wallace stood there. Silent as the grave, and eyes trained on the floor beneath them. William said nothing in return, and simply watched the exchange between them. Wallace looked back up at the guard, and jolted his head to the side.

"Huh…?" The guard hummed, before realizing now was the time to book it. He spun on his heels, and ran for his dear life. Huffing and grunting in fear as he moved, nearly tripping over himself as he scrambled to make his hasty retreat.

All the while, Wallace watched. When the guard rounded the corner and out of sight, William clicked his tongue and looked down upon his other self, disappointment entering his mind.

"Ya know he's gonna get help…" William said to Wallace.

Wallace shrugged. "Probably."

Then Wallace huffed, bending over to retrieve his blade from the floor. It was tainted and stained with the blood of the Shadows. And it even looked dented from where he had sent a bullet back to its owner.

Only one truth remained in his mind as the sudden surge of anger he felt quietly subsided, leaving him a hollow, exhausted shell of what once was.

He was alone.

Post-Chapter Author's Note

Edited by Kabuto S. Inferno.