One two, one two.
A shot to the right, a shot to the left.
Split the chamber, throw out the empty shells, let them rot on the snow. No time for proper firing etiquette.
As they ran deeper and deeper into the very core of the trenches, devils clad in dark attire kept appearing from all angles; above, from the left, right, jumping down into the trenches - all of them being quickly met with a .44 surprise. Ricketts, as much of a coward as he was, had also been a great shot. A few sarkaz swordsmen crawled down from above, plunging into the trench and plummeting to their death as a salvo of gunfire quickly turned their massive bodies to Lateran cheese (full of holes!)
"See any more of them!?"
The boys took a hasty look around, trying their best not to panic. Ricketts stood proud among the beasts' corpses, letting a fresh batch of bullets into the cylinder, courtesy of a fancy speedloader.
"Puff… Can't see shit!"
"Stick right by, you notice anything move, just yell…"
And a loud yelling did follow.
"TRENCH CLEAAAR-!..."
BANG!
All Andy could see was the Sergeant's coat swooshing through the air as he spinned on his heel and shot from the hip. The source of the obnoxious screaming, one last devil, had just stopped moving atop the trenchline, frozen in confusion. With his crossbow still raised up to his shoulder and pointed at the three, an expression of bewilderment filled his unmasked face. He lowered the weapon and dropped it to the ground before reaching for his forehead and grasping the bullet hole between his eyes, as if to make sure it was really there. He took a glance at his bloodstained fingers and finally came to the realization that a projectile had in fact just entered and left his brain in rapid succession. Down into the trench he went, joining his dead comrades.
The three gathered amidst the corpses, checking all sides for any more enemies. A low rumbling came from the raging sky, somewhere above the outpost itself.
"Sky's tearing."
It was a simple statement, as casual as pointing out that the weather's nice on a sunny day. The red sky had been lit up once more, raining hellfire and increasingly larger chunks of originium from within the depths of its belly. In the far distance, a barrage of bike sized rocks had just fallen on their little hut, crushing everything inside and leaving behind a pile of oripathy inducing rubble. Droz let out a small whimper.
"Nuffer…"
"We're gonna get Nuffer. We're gonna get everyone, Private. Vincent, right?"
He immediately woke from his stupor, confusion painted on his face
"Vin-...? No, no, "Droz." Just Droz."
Andy turned to the two, looking away from the sky. Vincent? So that was it?
With the wind on their backs, they kept pushing on, finally making it to a small clearing, where a few shooting stands laid. Among the countless sandbags and a few dead devils, sat a young man, leaning his back against the earthy barricades. Upon rushing closer to inspect his condition, the three found streams of blood rushing down his sad uniform, with a few cuts in his chest and gut. He was still conscious and wary.
"Who's that?! Who… Oh, Sergeant! They got Moseley! They…"
His eyes were all over the place as he started pointing towards a passageway protruding from the clearing, leading right into the very first lines of the trenches. Ricketts kneeled by the man and immediately started rolling up his sleeves.
"Calm down… Calm down, Private, you're losing blood, you're in shock…"
"B-But they got him! He's still there, I shot… I shot the bastards, but more kept coming and…"
"And you did good! You did great, Private, don't move…"
"Y-Yes, sir!"
With his mind fully on the matter, the Sergeant tore a long piece of his sleeve right off and started applying the makeshift bandage to Muller's wounds.
"Andy! Droz! Go, get Private Moseley's gun and tags, order!"
"Yes, sir!"
They shouted in unison and rushed off to explore the dreaded front lines. With his .38 out, Andy took the lead, checking corner by corner and Droz keeping a lookout on any devils jumping into the trench from the top. The line separating no man's land and the tunnels itself had been densely covered with barbed wire, so no real threat should have theoretically arisen from the battlefield or the forest itself. But what gave them the certainty that the line of defense hadn't yet been breached? Nothing. Definitely not the raging storm.
"... Look, there."
The two stopped at the sight of a carcass clad in gray uniform, lying in a pile of dried up blood. Moseley's halo had already gone dim, laying faithfully by his side, his wings of light nowhere to be found. Neither of the boys had ever seen a dead sankta up close, nor were they prepared to do so, but here they were. Barely holding himself from throwing up, Andy pocketed his revolver and grasped the cadaver's metal necklace, pulling with all his might. It gave out without much struggle.
"H. MOSELEY, AB+, PONTIFICA COHORS LATERAN."What a horrifying way to be remembered by. Just a small metal plaque and the memory of your lifeless corpse within some two strangers' minds.
"Andy?"
His gaze turned towards the giant. He wasn't interested in the dead Private in the slightest. There was something much, much more sinister drawing his gaze. Staring back at the hill from where they came, their familiar outpost, Andy could see a swarm of bright, white flares lighting up the dim, red sky. Merc lights. A few mercenary banners had already been planted in the ruins of their base.
"They've taken over."
"No…"
"Droz, just… focus on this. Focus on the rifle. W-We just need to…"
A sense of genuine panic and fear had finally washed over the boy, as the reality of their situation settled in. They lost. The devils had taken over their outpost. Their land. Their home.
With the white lights still gleaming in the sky, thunder and whatnot rumbling all around, Andy felt his head beginning to spin. None of this should be happening. This entire day, from the newspapers, up to this very moment, their first and probably last encounter with the enemy - all of it should've just been a nightmare. In a childish attempt, he pinched his own skin, hoping that'd wake him.
"Nuffer… W-We need to find Nuffer, we…"
Droz had been absolutely struck by fear, penetrating his very soul and bones. He had no control over the situation, no one to fall back on.
"We will. We will, j-just take the rifle and let's get back to the rest, o-okay…?"
The giant nodded quickly, and grabbed the dead man's rifle from the ground. They set off on the long walk back.
"He's there. He's there, I know."
"Of course he is. Of course he is…"
"We'll get him, okay?"
"Okay."
"Tell me we'll get him."
He stopped to turn towards Andy. There was pure determination and doggedness in his eyes, piercing the boy clean through.
"... We'll get Isaiah."
"Good. Good, good…"
A metallic rustling rang softly amidst the raging wind. Andy's ears immediately perked up, catching the gentle sound.
"Droz?"
"Hm?"
Their eyes turned towards the high edge of the trench, as the struggles against barbed wire only grew.
"... Wire."
He nodded back, racking the rifle's bolt back to check the chamber. It was loaded.
The sounds of fabrics and flesh tearing against barbed wire became louder with each passing second, inching ever so closer to their safe haven. That familiar ringing filled Andy's ears once again, turning his breathing a little heavier. Droz took a shooting stance, aiming upwards towards the edge.
…
And then there was silence.
Nothing but the wind's gentle howl.
…
After a few more moments of uncertainty, Droz lowered the gun and approached the side of the trench to take a better look out.
"Probably this goddamn wind or some wild animal, lemme see…"
And right as his nervous eyes peeked above the trenchline, the sole of a hard, heavy boot flew right into his face.
"...?!"
His entire body jerked backwards, falling back onto the snow. Andy could only watch in horror as the rifle dropped to his side and immediately fired off a round into the wooden railing. Everyone jumped at the sudden gunfire, even the devil, now standing atop the trench, a jagged knife in their hand. It only took them a moment to break from the sudden moment of puzzlement and jump into the trench, readying their short blade. As a sense of overwhelming hopelessness filled the boy at the sight of his dear friend being approached by a faceless beast, his mind finally came to a realization that there's a gun resting in his coat. His fingers immediately rushed to the buttons, trying to grasp the slippery discs. The devil threw themselves at Droz, who managed to catch their hands right before they could dip the knife in his throat. A struggle ensued as Andy's heart kept beating out a rapid tempo, fighting his own battle against those damned buttons. The knife kept inching ever so closer to his wide throat, a bright shade of red covering his entire face. Finally, Andy managed to tear the fabric open, pulling the gun from within.
…
Click!
…
His heart stopped. His eyes went wide with fear. The treacherous click.
He cocked back the hammer and tried channeling his arts once more, this time without bothering to press the trigger.
But no gunshot would come. There was nothing to set aflame within the cylinder. It was completely empty.
Droz was at the brink of giving out by now, the tip of the knife just barely tearing his skin, showing the first drops of blood. The trench raider on top of him kept kicking their feet wildly, pushing their entire weight onto the knife. Andy's shaking hands reached for his pocket, taking a bullet from within. He popped the chamber out of the gun and tried dropping the cartridge inside, his palms trembling. With an accidental twitch of his fingers, it fell to the ground.
So he dropped to his knees, tears of desperation now falling from his eyes. His hands searched for the bullet in the snow, hungrily reaching in hopes of finding this little last line of defense. The rest of the bullets within his pocket kept happily clinking away, being thrown against one another within the confined space due to his rapid, unorganized movements.
His fingers finally felt the brass exterior and deposited the bullet inside the chamber. It closed with a soft click and the gun was finally ready to fire. Ready to kill.
With his heart beating out of his chest, Andy pointed the gun in the general direction of the devil atop his friend and put his entire mind to setting the charge off.
BANG!
…
The sarkaz raider stopped struggling and turned to look at the source of the loud noise. For a single moment, their gazes locked as the masked assailant tilted their head in confusion. He missed. He completely missed the devil.
As blood kept ringing loudly in his ears, Andy's fingers dove right back into his pocket, feeling around for another round. But the devil had other plans, clearly not having taken kindly to being shot at. He raised the knife high above his head, ready to throw it at the little angel's head and shatter his skull. His long, muscular arm reached behind himself, preparing to chuck the knife at the little fucker with the gun and finish off the fatso with his bare hands. One of his eyes closed, drawing a little bullseye at his would-be shooter's forehead.
And…
The devil's mask was torn right off his head, along with a large chunk of his face. With half of his brain missing, the creature couldn't help but fall to its side, sliding right off of Droz.
Andy couldn't breathe. He couldn't think, he couldn't do anything but stare at the Sergeant's comforting silhouette as he ran towards the two, yelling some unintelligible nonsense. He didn't even notice as his fingers inserted another .38 bullet into the chamber, even after the devil had already been shot.
Droz kept gurling, Ricketts kept yelling, but Andy only caught small glimpses of whatever he was trying to say. His mind was still enveloped in pure shock and fear.
"... Outpost's done for… forest… meet up at…"
Andy looked up at him with an empty, absent-minded gaze. What was he saying?
The Sergeant slapped him across the face, immediately sharpening all of his senses.
"DREW! TAKE DROZ, RUN FOR THE SOUTHWEST FOREST! WE'LL MEET UP AT THE OTHER SIDE! FIND A TOWN, THERE'S A TOWN, SUNA, FIND IT, WE'LL MEET UP THERE, I'LL GO BACK FOR MULLER AND…-"
A crossbow bolt swished right by his head, sending him recoiling backwards. He fell to his back and shot at the newly appeared devil atop the trenchline. The first bullet pierced his lungs, the second his guts, the third, his heart.
A different mercenary immediately took his place, shoving his comrade aside and jumping down into the trench, mace in hand.
The fourth bullet pierced his throat, which only made the devil more enraged. The fifth one missed and the sixth shattered his collar bone, forcing him to the ground like a demolished skyscraper.
Ricketts immediately rose from the ground and picked Droz up to his feet, turning his attention from the supposedly dead mercs.
"Take him! Take him, run where I told you, meet me there…"
"But Nuffer…"
The giant wailed, struggling to keep himself standing. A trail of blood had formed at his throat, courtesy of the struggle from before.
"Forget about Nuffer! It's you, now! Run where I told you, that's an order! Direct order, I see you running for the outpost, I'll shoot you both! Go! Go already, g-..."
Suddenly, his face went pale. His voice hitched in his throat, making way for a loud gurgling. The boys did not even have a second to realize what's happening as the injured mercenary rose to his feet, with his hand buried deep within Ricketts' throat. Those long, sharp claws, protruding from the man's skin, sending cascades of blood down his uniform. With the last of his strength, he grasped the grip of his revolver a tad bit tighter and aimed behind himself, pressing the muzzle against the devil's stomach.
…
Nothing. Six shots was all he had. The chamber was full of husks.
"DO SOMETHING!"
Droz's desperate voice rang in his ears as Andy finally broke from his stupor and aimed his gun at the devil. No misses, no empty shots, not now. He could see Ricketts struggling with his very last will, his tail flicking wildly and his arms and legs already giving out. The devil's horned face fit neatly between the three dots of his irons as he closed his eyes and let the bullet decide their fate.
With an ear shattering bang, it pierced clean through, knocking the devil backwards and sending his hand soaring, ripping clean through the Sergeant's neck.
He fell to the ground, face first into the snow.
…
Silence.
…
"H-He…"
Droz moved to check up on his body, missing a large chunk of his neck. Blood was pouring so fast from the hole that a small lake of crimson had already formed by his side.
It was clear he was no longer alive. Their fallen guardian angel, the coward who ran, the man who tried to save them.
Andy felt his knees growing weak. They broke under his weight, making him fall right by the dead angel's side. He couldn't bring himself to touch him, to check for pulse or even turn his head to meet his empty, lifeless gaze. To see someone so familiar, so important, just… laid out like this. To see him die. What was his dying wish? Last words? Instructions for them to run. Far away. Survive.
Andy carefully removed the dog tags from what was left of the "Lieutenant's" neck and placed them upon his own. It's the least he could do. Now to make his last words count…
More rustling came from the barbed wire above as the giant kept clutching his neck and breathing heavily. The boy stood up from his guardian's side and immediately took the rifle Droz dropped, grasping his friend's sleeve and dragging him along, deeper along the front line.
"C'mon… C'mon, the forest, we've gotta run…"
"But Nuffer…?"
"We'll… Get Nuffer… Get… Town, first… We need the town…"
"B-But…"
A crossbow bolt swished by the two, causing them to jump. Andy immediately broke out in a wild sprint, booking it for the nearest exit out of these hellish tunnels, wanting so desperately to just leave all of this behind already. Wishing for the nightmare to finally end.
He climbed atop the wooden railing and helped Droz up, as a few more bolts passed by. There was no time for slip ups, no time for dawdling. He pulled with all his might, eventually getting the giant above the trenchline, letting the howling wind freely envelop them whole. Thankfully, the barbed wire had already been torn to shreds by the devils earlier, which made it easier to cross towards no man's land. Their escape started out slow, glancing around the empty battlefield and noticing a group of devils afar, forcing their way into the trenches. They were spotted almost immediately, as a wild whistle came from their side, indicating a desire to chase the two.
"They saw us. We need to run, come on!"
"W-Wait, I c-..."
"RUN! RUN, COME ON!"
He wasn't about to lose anyone else. Not now.
With all his might, Andy clutched Droz's wrist and let his legs carry them both towards the thick, ominous birch forest in front. The treacherous woods that brought upon this entire hellish fever dream in the first place.
"Huff… W-Wait, my neck…!"
"We've gotta go! Come on, WE'VE GOTTA GO!"
Past the frozen no man's land and into the treeline they went, without even a second to spare. There was pure adrenaline pumping through his veins as he ran and ran, without taking even a small glance behind. With the wind on their backs and the crimson sky high above, they ran through the dark forest, without a sense of direction, with just one clear purpose in mind - The town called "Suna."
"Come on… Come on, just a bit more…"
"Andy… I d-don't…"
"Just a few meters… Few meters, Droz, please…"
"I don't feel good…"
"I know… I know, just a meter…"
His boots kept skipping along the frozen forest litter, covered by a thick layer of snow. With one hand clutching the heavy rifle, the other holding onto his friend's wrist, his heart was forced into working overtime to keep the rapid tempo. It was at the very edge of bursting.
…
"Andy…"
"I know… I know, here, take a seat, here…"
The giant dropped on his back yet again, resting against a fallen tree. There was blood all over his neck, seeping lazily from the ever so slightly larger wound on his throat. It was all torn wide open now. Maybe they shouldn't have run so fiercely, so wildly…
Andy's heartbeat was still all over the place, feeling as if he could pass out at any moment. Under no circumstances could he let that happen. Not now. Not here.
He kneeled by his friend and rolled up his sleeves, just like Ricketts did earlier. Tearing a long piece of his shirt's sleeve from underneath his sweater, he tried bandaging the wound, only to realize that he had no idea how to. He couldn't just wrap it around his neck, right? It needs to squeeze tightly, to cut the blood flow, but… but how?
How?
His eyes filled with tears of desperation, a helpless grimace painted on his face.
"Droz, I don't… What do I do? Droz what do I do? Where do I…"
The giant kept gurgling softly and flicking his hand in a dismissive manner. His eyes closed and his head shot backwards, resting against the white bark.
"Droz…"
More gurgling, as he tried desperately catching his breath, unable to fill his lungs with air.
"Please… Droz, please…"
Finally, he spoke, grasping the boy's sleeve, tightly.
"... Andy,"
A beat filled with gurgling.
"... Leave… Just leave me here."
Leave?
No.
"No. No, I can't, no, I just can't, I…"
"Leave. Leave, save yourself, moron…"
Andy kept shaking his head, eventually throwing the rifle to his back and wrapping his arms around the giant's torso, forcefully dragging him away from his resting spot.
"I won't leave you. Not here. Not in Kazdel, understood?"
"You're an idiot… You're such an idiot…"
"I'll drag you back to Laterano if I have to, okay? Back to Chocolate Street, yeah? You promised me a strudel by the fountain, remember…?"
"Y-Yeah… Yeah, you'll get your strudel…"
He let out a pained chuckle, broken by a coughing fit. Even more blood poured from his neck. Andy kept pushing on, dragging him through the dark forest.
"I'll introduce you to Mostima, right?"
"Mo-... Mostima, which one was that?"
Andy couldn't help but let a weak smile adorn his tired face at the mere thought of the two meeting.
"The… The blue one. Remember? From the picture…"
"Yeah, I remember… I remember. And the red one?"
"Lemuel. I'll introduce you to her too, promise."
"Right…"
He let out a few coughs again, his head tilting to the side and body growing a bit heavier.
"... What's she like?"
It was a mere soft whisper.
"Lem?"
"Uh-huh. In deatil. Just talk to me, Andy..."
"Oh, she's… She's very out there, for sure… She's very loud. But not too loud. A bit of an airhead, but… But so am I. It's okay. She's nice. You know?"
"Uh... Huh."
"She has… She has these amazing parents, too… You'll meet them too, her mom makes the best apple pie on Terra, trust me…"
"Mhm..."
Andy kept babbling and babbling as the giant's breathing turned more and more steady. He kept waffling on about Lemuel, getting lost in a stream of memories, which brought tears to his face.
"And she loves guns… And… And… And messing around… And…"
"Mmm..."
Through the forest they went. Along the dark path.
"And she… She can be a bit annoying…"
"..."
Past a creek, flowing gently through the snowy woods.
"She… I miss her a lot, too…"
"..."
And onto a little clearing.
"..."
"..."
"Droz?"
There was no answer.
Andy let go of his friend and took a wobbly step back.
There was no movement, no breathing, no life.
His motionless carcass sprawled across the snow, with the wind gently assaulting his hair.
His halo was dim.
His wings were no more.
Andy felt tears running down his cheeks. His heart beating out of his chest. The events of today, all cumulating and sending a single killing blow into his stomach.
He felt his entire world crumbling. The reality closing in on him and making him feel so, so sickishly dizzy.
He fell to his knees. All his feelings, his desperation, his helplessness, his anger and sadness, all at once, were begging to be released.
He turned to the side and vomited, staining the snow.
He fell to the ground. Everything went black. Nothing mattered anymore. His world had ended.
His consciousness had finally given out.