Under the grim, night sky, gathered around a dimming campfire, the wicked souls sat in unison, enjoying their last supper.
Potatoes.
Baked, fried, boiled, hell, even raw for some. Filling the stomach quick, leaving a quite pleasant aftertaste and most important - being incredibly cheap. This recent rediscovery kept Andy perplexed and full of contradictory statements. W might've been a total psychopath, sure, but she damn well knew how to cook a mean potato soup. Or baked potatoes. Or potato puree. Or potato salad, fries, golden brown slices, hash browns…
"I can't even talk shit about her cooking. This is genuinely good."
Ines gave a shrug and dug her fork into the golden mass of warm, homey flavors.
"It's alright. Had better, though."
Away from the war's gripping claws, lost in this little moment of peace and serenity, she'd oftentimes drop her constant guard and make herself just a tiny bit more approachable than usual. A few nameless mercs stood from the bonfire and disappeared into the darkness without a word. Antisocial lot.
Andy swallowed a lump of fried goodness and turned to his side, gripping his broken ribs.
"Oh, yeah? Like what?"
"... I dunno. Something less greasy than this."
Her fork nudged those golden, mushy hills.
"You're just being picky."
"Hm. Or maybe I'm not in the mood for sending compliments to the chef."
"That should be me out of the two of us, y'know? I'm the one with a cracked rib and broken nose."
"Mmm. She tried that bullshit on me too, don't think you're the only victim."
"And?"
"And nothing. I know how to swing a blade, unlike you."
He couldn't argue with that. Instead, he shoveled some more crisp potatoes down his throat. A few more mercs left the ever so dimming fire, their conversations growing nigh silent.
"So we're just gonna let her tyrannize us like that?"
"There's nothing else left to do. Hoederer sees something in her, something I don't. You're blind to most her flaws, anyway."
"I'm… not?"
"You are. You might think you despise her, but deep down there's something more growing within. I can tell."
"That's what your mind reading's telling you? That, what, I'm secretly in love with her but I don't know it?"
"No, moron. It's more of a… A desperate need. To feel accepted. To be completely certain you're not on bad terms with anyone."
"... What?"
"You're like an ant, sankta. You cling to your colony, whatever it might be, always working alongside someone else, feeling so lost when you're alone. You dread isolation, you're scared of what lurks behind the backs of those you think you know, cowering in fear at night, clinging onto… I'm not sure what or who, I can't look into dreams."
"..."
"Thought no one knew? I can feel you twisting and turning at night in your tent, you're quite loud, emotionally."
The final few stood from the dying fire, leaving Andy and Ines alone amidst the night's dark embrace. Her voice was calm, almost friendly.
"... Point is, you can't hate. You don't despise her, you don't despise anyone. You're like a rat, wandering the empty battlefield, looking for a pack to take you in and protect."
She cut a piece of her potato casserole and took a small bite, gracefully swallowing.
"You're dependent on others. As many layers as there are to your mask, you'd crumble and fall if you were left to yourself, abandoned by everyone. What's an act for, if there's not a single soul to watch?"
Andy felt the sharp end of his rib drilling more and more into his lung with every word she spoke. His face was red. He couldn't even begin thinking of a response.
"... Even now, you're still sitting here. I'm telling you things that uncomfortably tug at the deepest of your heartstrings, dragging the most intimate of secrets out from your head, but you're… Still just sitting here. Not even denying anything."
Ines turned to look at him, for once. Her gaze was sharp, digging into the depths of his wretched soul.
"And I envy that."
Those yellow eyes softened. Turned gentle and docile. Their gazes locked.
"At least you're true to yourself. You can accept who you are."
She stood up and threw the rest of her meal into the dying fire.
"Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe not. Gods know."
Her hand shot upwards, fingers sliding along her long, spiky horns. Memento of an identity lost.
"... I should get these filed. Growing too long, again."
Andy did not say anything. His rib, the reaper's scythe, kept gnawing at his lung, begging to be let in. She didn't bother to look at him.
"Good luck, tomorrow. You're going to need it, Andy."
That was the first time he's heard her say his name. He felt sick.
As her footsteps grew silent, the boy was left sitting by himself in front of the smoldering pile of firewood. His head kept spinning. Spinning so fast, so wild, causing his stomach to turn inside out and spew all those potatoes back out.
Andy barely stopped himself from vomiting. That night, he slept alone. No crimson hallways, no photos, no warm embraces.
No loving smiles.
Nothing and no one.
…
"Aaaaaaaaand, pick up the pace, Lawdog!"
The rope around his wrists tightened, forcefully launching him forward. It was around midday, W and Andy were marching towards certain death awaiting both, in this loopy little plan of theirs. She pulled the rope again, with a rapid jerk of her hand. Andy swore he could feel the rib almost tearing through his lung's side.
"Can you not do that?"
"Silence, mongrel. In my presence, thou shall not speak, unless spoken to."
"What?"
She yanked the rope again, sending him flying forward.
"Silence, I said! No words shall exit thou mouth in the presence of… Uh… V, Kazdel's greatest bounty hunter!"
Her tail wagged with excitement as Andy gathered himself off the ground and grasped the side of his chest. Wasn't looking good at all.
"You're psychotic."
"Tch, Ricketts, do you not get it? Roleplay, moron! You're my captive, I'm your captor. Do you want me to yank the rope again?"
"But it's just the two of us here! You don't have to toss me around when no one's looking…"
"Oh, I do! That's when it's most fun~! Now, silence."
Her lips twisted into that annoying, smug smirk, as she pulled on the rope once more, sweeping Andy off his feet.
The two kept making their way through the calm, serene forests of the Northwestern Kazdelian taiga, with the sun on their backs, following in their footsteps. A few hours in the sun, cut with a quick break to soothe the bodily needs.
Andy sat back on a moss covered rock, free from his restraints, frowning and gulping down his breakfast.
"... You could've just tied me up here, not all the way back in camp."
"And miss out on the most fun three hours of my day? Hell no."
She crossed her legs, narrowing her eyes and rubbing her fingers against her chin.
"... Though, should I call it "most fun"? We shouldn't count our chickens before they hatch. There's still the matter of blowing up those bounty hunter dimwits, that could be more fun. Whaddya think, Drew?~"
"You're a moron."
"Tch. That calls for a gutting from V, the bounty hunter."
She pulled the knife from her holster and stood up, joyously frolicking towards the boy. He fell from his rock and crawled backwards, eyes wide in regret. He had no gun with him, no toy to wave around and shut her up.
"Okay, wait! I was joking, wait! W-... Wait, did you call me "Drew?"
She stopped, holding the knife right by his waist. A tinge of surprise crossed her ever so maniacally grinning face.
"... Oh. I did, yeah. Caught me in a good mood, there. Guess you'll be getting gutted some other time."
She playfully flicked his halo, sending a sharp stroke of pain running down the ladder of his spinal discs.
"Anyway, I don't really expect you to survive this, but… Even if you do, don't expect me to drag you back to camp."
He let out a weak snort. How reassuring.
"Don't expect me to drag you anywhere, either."
"Thays the spirit, Ricketts! Once we're out with the cash, everything's fair game, remember that~."
Her knife went back into the holster as she flashed him an overly sweet smile, steeped in venomous charm. His eyes narrowed, breath hitching in his throat.
"For now, grab this…"
She nonchalantly threw him a bag full of fragile explosives.
"... And help a lady set up some surprises, hm?~"
With a heavy sigh, he clutched the death trap in his arms and stood up, ready for some grueling manual labor.
Tweak some doses here, connect some cables there…
Flick a switch, get yelled at.
Set up the charges, hide under the forest litter…
Stop W from accidentally walking into said charges, get yelled at, again.
Sit back together and enjoy the view; a grand lake by their side, amidst the lush vegetation and colossal mountain chains in the background. The sun glimmering on its surface, sending gleeful beams of light into their young, weary eyes.
Watch as W gets mad at the sun for shining too brightly and throws a grenade into the depths. See dead fish flying all around the place, dozens of kilograms of wasted food…
And wait. Wait and wait and wait…
Snuggled side by side, the two sat under a massive spruce tree, snoring peacefully. The sun had already begun to depart, letting The Big Gloom envelop their part of the world in its cold, frigid grasp. Andy's head unwillingly made its way onto the fiend's shoulder, in an unconscious search for something soft and warm to rest against. W didn't seem to mind at all, with her eyes closed and horns gently tucked against the boy's curls. Their breaths were soft, coming out as a gentle, milky mist, mingling together and dissipating into the freezing air. It felt as if everything had been in its designated place, every little puzzle piece joined together, creating this serene, peaceful image of two torn, wretched souls, unwillingly and unconsciously enjoying their time together, clinging to each other's warmth.
A gentle snap of a twig disrupted the evening's silence, sending W's eyes shooting open.
"...?"
Her inquisitive gaze scanned the area, searching for the source of the noise. As a group of heavy shadows passed between the trees in front, her heart started beating just a click faster.
"Shit…"
She turned to her side, just now noticing their proximity. She abruptly nudged him in the ribs with her elbow.
"Ricketts, get up. Get up, they're here…"
"Mmm… Gimme a minute, Lem…"
"L-...? What? Get the hell up, you pest!"
Her arms shoved him right off her shoulder, waking him up instantly.
"Wh-...?"
"Shhh! Shut up! Hands, hands, gimme your hands…"
A few moments later, he was already laying flat on the ground, hands tied behind his back, his face being pressed into the frozen earth by W's sole. She stood above him, proudly holding the former W's rifle in her hands, muzzle pointed towards the stars. A wide, sadistic grin stretched on her face, as her gaze finally welcomed the justice bringers they've been waiting for all this time.
First came their footsteps, echoing through the night, the loud thumps of demons against ground frozen solid. Heavy, hard and violent in a way that made Andy's face turn just a shade more crimson.
Then, came the rattling. The sound of a thousand chains brutally linked together, hitting against the earth as the devilish justice bringers footslogged through the forest.
Finally, the low growling of a dozen houndbeasts muffled all other sounds, growing closer with each and every second. Andy felt drops of sweat running down his forehead, despite the cold weather. His heart kept beating right out of his chest as his breathing turned wild and uneven. W simply kept smirking and proudly holding her gun.
A few lanterns of oil came to life, sending bright, blinding rays of orange light into the girl's face, making her squint. Her smirk did not falter in the slightest, as V, Kazdel's greatest bounty hunter took over her body and mind.
Clad in dark, heavy leather coats, with hats and hoods covering their horned heads, the hunters stepped out from the shadows, their stride heavy and draggy. By their sides, a loud pack of growling beasts, eager to be let loose of their chains and ravage everything they could find, to tear the flesh from the two in front and leave nothing but a valley of bones. W's eye flinched erratically as one of the beasts let out a blood curdling howl. A hunter grasped the chain holding the noisy bugger and smacked it across the head with their heavy leather glove. It yelped in pain and immediately stopped producing any sort of noise, groveling at its master's feet.
Andy felt his heart beating out a symphony of pure fear, his terrified gaze jumping from hunter to hunter, noticing their massive crossbows, leaden bolas hanging from shoulders, spare knives all lined along bandoliers adorning their massive, leather chests… One of them even had a staff with a hound's skull on top. Its eyes kept glowing, as if staring directly into the boy's mind and filling it with dread. He let out a soft yelp. W reassuringly pressed the sole of her boot against his head just a bit harder.
The only thing keeping him from breaking down completely was the copious amounts of explosives planted right beneath the hellish hunters' feet.
One of the devils spoke up, his murky voice carrying a detached hint of disdain within.
"... You're the informant?"
W gave a confident nod and pressed one of her hands against her hips.
"Informant! Tch, I'm Kazdel's freshest, deadliest bounty hunter, honey. They call m-..."
The man spoke again, his voice a few decibels higher. Pure, genuine hatred seeping from his words, filling the two's souls with an indescribable feeling of pure, paralyzing fear.
"Answer. The. Question."
W was left uncharacteristically speechless for just a moment. Her smirk faltered.
"... I'm the informant. No need to be getting all pissy."
The hunter stepped out from their array, his unseen eyes drilling into the back of Andy's skull.
"... That the boy? 'S him?"
"Uh-huh. Rattling son of a bitch, Lateran scum. Shot at me three times before I…"
"Where's his arsenal?"
His massive, steel-toed boots stopped right by the boy's face. He crouched down, examining his halo.
"Arsenal? Oh, why don't you tell 'em what happened to your arsenal, Lawdog?"
"W-What…?"
W took a step back, before sending her shoe full force into his chest. All air suddenly left his body as he felt the reaper's scythe finally intruding the holy, life giving sanctuary. His cracked rib punctured the lung.
"You answer when I'm talking to you, Lawdog! Where are your guns?!"
She kept yelling as Andy laid on the ground, barely managing to catch his breath. The pain was too much, sending tears into his eyes as he kept gasping for air like a fish fresh out of water. The hunter tilted his massive head, as W prepared to kick the poor boy again.
"Don't. Dead are worth less."
He instructed the girl, reaching into his coat.
"... You don't 'ave The Exorcist's weapons. Will pay less."
She flicked a strand of hair from her face and reached into one of the pockets of her chest rig. That maniacal, sadistic grin was back. Just a few more moments, just mere seconds before all those charges could be set off…
"That's alright. It's the thought that counts, right, boys~? Now, cash."
She threw the gun back on her back and reached out, expectantly. With his movements slow and steady, the hunter pulled a hefty sack from the depths of his leather sarcophagus and handed it over. She took a moment to examine the contents, eyes gleaming with psychopathic joy.
It was time.
"That's that! I'd say it was nice doing business with you…"
Her hand slowly left the pocket, holding a detonator. The devils all locked their gazes on her fingers.
"... But it really wasn't. Hope you rot in hell, bastards~."
Her pale fingers squeezed the trigger. Andy squeezed his eyes shut, expecting a thundering blast to shatter his eardrums.
Click!
...
But the night air remained as silent as ever.
...
Nothing happened.