AN: I've been back from vacation for a few weeks now BUT I have made the terrible mistake of watching 20 episodes of a wholesome cherry man playing OMORI back to back and I can't stop. This isn't an excuse, this is a cry for help before Snaley obliterates me after his training arc.
Well on a more relevant note, in this chapter you will see me listing a song that you can listen to while reading if you feel like it.
It's just a suggestion though, I couldn't resist putting the song there. I think it is a good fit. I also put a song for Chapter 2, it should be updated as of posting this.
Chapter 5: The Arsonist
Creighton the Wanderer
The Wanderer from Mirrah took a moment to acclimate to his new surroundings.
No more wide, empty streets. Now he was in a dark room adorned with equipment. It was small, Creighton could tell it was designed for function over anything else.
A small desk next to the left wall with a telephone on it facing him was the only object that made the room feel like an entrance.
Everything else was equipment that was strewn all over the place like the people here disappeared in the middle of packing it all up.
There were fire-fighter helmets scattered around the room, fire-fighter uniforms hanging in lockers or on racks, a single oxygen tank sitting on a desk, and some gas masks here and there.
The knight walked toward a door to his right and opened it to peek into the next room. It was the garage. There was a single fire truck ready for an emergency it would never be able to reach. It's bright red coloring almost blinding in the darkness.
Creighton quietly closed the door. He started searching for a set of stairs to the 2nd floor. He was here to fight.
Thump Thump Thump Thump
A set of calm, deliberate footsteps were coming from up there right when Creighton found the stairs nestled in the far right corner of the room.
He silently walked to the base of the stairs, his chain covered feet causing small splashes on the wet floor.
At the base of the stairs there was a puddle that he noted was not made of water.
The puddle was a clear brown color that smelled like oil.
"Smells like oil, but doesn't look or act like it. Definitely flammable. Better be careful." He thought to himself.
He'd been set on fire enough times to know which liquids burned.
Thunk
The sound of something being dropped onto wood echoed from upstairs.
Creighton snapped to look at the top of the stairs, then he cautiously walked up the steps.
He didn't see that the gasoline puddle had a trail coming out of it that led to the rest of the room.
Going up the stairs, he looked through the gaps in the wooden railing into the first room when his head was level with the second floor.
The only thing of importance was the open doorway to his left. All of the commotion was coming from there.
He got to the top of the stairs then went up to the wall next to the doorway.
Creighton poked his head out to see into the next room.
"There you are."
The person was standing in the room, their back to Creighton.
They weren't wearing the metal wings.
They were at a wooden workbench working on the flying device. The sound of an active blowtorch reached the knight's ears.
Getting a better view of the person Creighton saw that they were wearing one of the firefighter uniforms that was downstairs, although their uniform was heavily burned and worn out compared to those other ones.
With the person tinkering on the machine Creighton looked around the room for any traps.
Didn't hurt to be cautious.
In the right corner of the room laying next to an open window was a flamethrower, a fair distance away from its owner. The left side of the room had a fireman's pole that connected to the garage on the lower floor.
"Doesn't look like the room is trapped in any way, good."
He focused back on the firefighter, they were doing something else now.
They grabbed a jerry can that was on the workbench and was fueling up their jetpack.
When it was full they walked toward the fireman's pole pouring gasoline everywhere they could. The rest of the gasoline was poured down the hole into the garage.
When the jerry can was empty the firefighter tossed it aside and went back to checking up on their jetpack.
"Alright, let's see what this guy's made of."
Creighton decided it was time to meet his new enemy.
He confidently stepped into the room, not bothering to hide his presence.
Insert song: Horrortale Remix - Sans's Theme
By Sour-Apple-Studios
The firefighter heard footsteps and turned his head toward Creighton, and chuckled to himself.
"Ha, I was wondering if you were gonna try and find me. Honestly, I was hoping you did. This city is pretty empty, there isn't really much for company anymore."
The firefighter was a man. His high-pitched voice screamed 'lunatic' to Creighton. His tone was surprisingly amicable, like the crazed man was glad to host the wayward Wanderer.
Going along with that, the man turned the rest of his body to face the peculiar knight standing in the doorway.
Then he put his empty hands on the workbench behind him and leaned back, taking on a more friendly, comfortable position.
Creighton noted that the firefighter had four throwable cylinders strapped diagonally over his chest. They were bright red, most likely a firebomb of sorts.
"Oh, so you saw me on your little flight. Well, aren't you observant?" Creighton spoke with a little snark.
"Whoa, no need to get all sassy with me. Not my fault you stick out like a sore thumb in this city, especially with that shiny mask and shiny axe." The man responded with a laugh in his voice.
This guy was already having fun with this conversation.
"Heh, you think my armor is shiny? Maybe I do stick out then." Creighton agreed, a chuckle threatening to spill out.
Oh, both of them are having fun with this.
"I have a knack for spotting shiny stuff. Your axe is quite the beauty there, she's an elegant one. The lights bound off of her quite nicely. I would say she took my heart, but that'd make me a liar." The man said while appraising the Dragonslayer's Axe.
With the bug-like gas mask the man was wearing he almost looked like a moth flying toward a lamp with how enraptured he looked.
"Looks like that thing you're wearing on your head isn't just for show it seems." Creighton playfully jabbed at the bughead.
That got a laugh out of the man. The firefighter gave the top of his head a knock.
"AHA HA HA kekeke, I almost forgot I was wearing this gas mask."
Creighton snorted at that. It was painfully relatable.
"Looks like the head of a fly, right? You got a sense of humor. I like you." The man stated sincerely.
"Been awhile since someone told me that. This is refreshing." Creighton thought.
The knight's face felt hot all of a sudden… wait, was he BLUSHING!?
This was not okay. Time to bring back his sass.
"My my, lucky me. About time I met a person who didn't lust for my axe." Creighton remarked.
"Yeah, I'm not that kinda guy. I prefer more of a… 'blazing' girl if you know what I mean." The firefighter said while grabbing and activating the blowtorch next to him to make the pun more obvious.
Creighton could feel the wink the man was sending him with that sentence.
"Heh, cheeky bastard. So you're a pyromancer. Hmph, never met one of your kind who was so… passionate about it. I saw the remains of your handiwork a little bit ago. You must be good with fire." Creighton spoke in a light tone.
It was nice to have a proper conversation for once.
To Creighton's surprise, the man shook his head like he was embarrassed with the praise he was getting.
"Oh you're giving me too much credit, I'm not a pyromancer. That makes it sound like I spew fireballs from my hands or something. No, I don't do that, that's what my baby over there is for." He nodded toward the weapon laying in the corner.
While he was saying that he absently ran the blowtorch over some of the blades of his jetpack's folded up wings to char them black. He thought black was a good color for his jetpack.
With a sigh he put the blowtorch down and continued to elaborate.
"I am a pyromaniac if you want to be specific. Although, I prefer to be called an Arsonist, if you please."
"Nice name, mate." Creighton thought. He liked having names for his opponents.
"Okay I'll play along, Arsonist. I am Creighton." He introduced himself.
The Arsonist gave a nod of acknowledgment.
Despite how well the conversation was going, Creighton and Arsonist were still at a standoff. None of them were moving from their initial positions.
Creighton decided to make the first move by walking to the right. He got out of the doorway's frame and leaned back on the wall. His eyes wandered to the jetpack that was still sitting on the workbench behind the man.
He hadn't got a good look at the whole thing yet. The Arsonist was always blocking it.
"Say, that's an interesting toy you got there. Never seen anything that makes a person fly before." Creighton spoke with a curious glint in his eyes.
The Wanderer got his desired result. Arsonist got off the workbench and turned his body to look at his jetpack while keeping an eye on Creighton.
The whole package was quite a sight.
The main piece was the actual jetpack with two thrusters that had a harness on it for the Arsonist to strap onto. On both sides there were wings made up of metal blades that were welded to the jetpack. The wings in their folded up form were similar to that of an eagle in design.
The jetpack was obviously custom built, there were noticeable imperfections but overall it was definitely functional.
"I bet you haven't seen a jetpack at all. I built this myself, thankfully I'm good at being a pyrotechnic... along with a couple of other things for that matter." Arsonist stated proudly.
Making a whole jetpack would require being good at a lot of things, not just pyrotechnics.
"The wings here may look like they're for show, but they help me a lot with flying around the city, it makes adjusting on the go smooth. I mean you've seen how demolished this place is, so this baby makes going over all of those chasms easy." Arsonist explained.
He seemingly read Creighton's mind, he thought the wings were cosmetic.
"I bet it would, I bet it would." Creighton agreed with that last part.
He remembered all he had to do to cross just one chasm. However, Creighton didn't like the idea of eternally being within gravity's reach.
The Arsonist decided to speak up again.
"Also, the wings are tougher and more flexible than they look, so don't think you can chop them like a log."
Creighton almost missed the playful jab at his axe hidden in that warning.
He would never degrade his beloved axe to the point of chopping down trees!
In his peripheral vision he saw a flicker of movement from the Arsonist's hand.
"Sneaky bugger."
The man's left hand was now resting on the handle of a fireax (red paint and all) ready to use at a moment's notice. The Wanderer didn't notice that the fireax was sitting on the edge of the workbench.
"How did I miss that? Ugh, I got distracted by the talk we were having." Creighton angrily thought. This wasn't helpful, Arsonist had a weapon now.
He wasn't defenseless anymore.
The man in question saw that Creighton was staring at the fireax, and he chuckled lightly.
Too lightly. He continued talking.
"Yep, I can just fly over or around any obstacle. With my jetpack I get a great view of my fires too... ohhhhh the way the flames dance while they consume a building. There's nothing like it." Arsonist spoke fervently.
"I get to set ablaze anything or anyone that I want. Like the fire stations dotted throughout the city. Or those viewers that are everywhere." The pyromaniac continued his rant.
However, a certain term stuck out to Creighton.
"Viewers?" The knight asked, tilting his head in confusion.
Creighton's voice now had an edge to it. A burning tension now filled the room. He was done with the pleasantries.
He was ready to start this duel, but the Arsonist wasn't feeling the mood.
"You know, the viewers. Those people with no faces… they move unnaturally." Arsonist answered the knight's question.
"Oh, those freaks. I call them hollows." Creighton dryly remarked.
"Huh… well both names suit them perfectly if you ask me." The Arsonist joked about the different names, both were very fitting for the lifeless viewers.
They both found it more funny than it should have been.
The delivery must have been pretty good.
The two men shared a laugh. When the laughter stopped, the Arsonist deeply sighed and spoke once more.
"But killing those guys got boring, they were too lifeless to enjoy watching them burn. At least burning the fire stations is fun to watch." He looked disappointed for a second, but then he stared at Creighton with a head tilt.
The bad kind of head tilt.
"I always wondered what it would be like to burn alive an actual person."
Eject Horrortale Remix - Sans's theme: Song end
The man grasped the fireax and brought it to his side. Looks like he was ready to end the conversation.
"Why don't you try and find out?" Creighton spat out on impulse.
He started approaching the Arsonist. For Creighton, the fight started.
It was time to strategize.
"Close him off, pressure him to do something predictable." Like clockwork, the Wanderer entered a state of focus.
Meanwhile the Arsonist stood still like the menacing man in armor wasn't approaching him with killing intent.
"…Good talk, Creighton." Arsonist said quietly, nostalgic.
Creighton slowed his approach to a stop, he would give the lunatic the courtesy of getting one last say before the duel starts.
"Is that all?" Creighton asked bluntly.
He didn't really get the lunatic's comment. Why would the man say that? It was just a conversation. It left him a bit confused.
Creighton stared at the Arsonist. The ex-firefighter noticed the confusion in Creighton's eyes through the black tint of his gas-mask.
"The conversation we had. It felt… nice talking to someone again." He had that same nostalgic tone in his voice again.
Creighton was still staring at him, so Arsonist just sighed and took up a defensive stance with his fireax.
"I can tell you just want to fight me, and I just want to burn this one last fire station to the ground." Then the Arsonist gave a crazed giggle.
"We're both just maniacs, aren't we?"
It clicked for Creighton right then and there.
Itching for a fight, all Creighton did was chuckle grimly as he felt the nostalgia hit him.
"How easy it is to forget what being a decent human feels like." Creighton thought with a dark wistfulness.
"I won't keep you waiting any longer." With that, Arsonist ended the conversation.
Faster than Creighton could even register, the Arsonist tossed one of his red firebombs behind him into the hole of the fireman's pole.
The incendiary grenade was more powerful than it looked because when it blew up the next moment it lit up the hole along with the entire room with a bright red glow blinding Creighton.
In his few seconds of blindness the Wanderer felt the blade of the fireax enter his torso. He stumbled back a couple steps.
"Bastard must have thrown it! I didn't hear him approach."
While his vision came back he saw the Arsonist's blurry figure run past him.
Fully regaining his eyesight Creighton turned to his right to see the man at the workbench strapping on to the jetpack's harness.
Creighton removed the fireax from his stomach like it was nothing and sprinted toward the Arsonist.
"Shit. That was a good throw too." Arsonist whispered to himself.
He thought Creighton would at least act like the fireax injured him. He must be more of a maniac than the Arsonist thought.
When the knight reached striking distance he jumped and brought the Dragonslayer's Axe down.
The Arsonist finished putting on the jetpack and he sidestepped the attack.
The axe broke the workbench in half, lightning briefly sparking off the workbench and the axe.
The Arsonist gasped in shock as he saw the axe's lightning infusion in action.
"How in the world does that axe emit lighting!?"
Equipped with his jetpack the Arsonist unfolded the wings, fell back, and-
Voom!
-activated the jetpack to go backwards to gain some space from Creighton. The knight quickly recovered from his whiffed attack and dashed toward the lunatic again.
Arsonist turned to his weapon that was still sitting next to the open window in the corner.
He needed his flamethrower.
It was only a few steps away. He quickly reached for it.
Creighton had a read on the Arsonist though, he intercepted by throwing his axe toward the weapon.
The throw was a bit off.
The Dragonslayer's Axe hit the ground right next to the flamethrower, but it prevented the Arsonist from getting his weapon by forcing him to dodge the axe.
Then the Wanderer rammed into the ex-firefighter and slammed him straight into the wall.
"Ahh!" Arsonist yelped in pain.
With the Arsonist stunned Creighton grabbed the flamethrower and tossed it out the open window.
It'd be best if the pyromancer didn't have his flame.
The Arsonist recovered and threw a straight kick at Creighton.
He tanked the kick and returned a punch of his own.
Arsonist ducked and Creighton's fist hit the wall instead.
Crack!
It left a hole in the wall.
Ignoring how strong that punch was, Arsonist shoved his fist into Creighton's stomach which finally staggered the knight.
He followed up by using the left wing to backhand Creighton's head. The force of the wing slap knocked the knight down to the ground.
Arsonist took advantage of this opportunity to copy Creighton's strategy and throw the Dragonslayer's Axe out the window as well.
Looking outside he saw his flamethrower laying on the street. He thought about jumping down to get it, but a quick glance at Creighton told him otherwise. Arsonist hopped over a sweeping kick from the prone knight.
Trying to punish him, Arsonist twisted his body to plunge the right wing straight into him.
Creighton had enough time to react by rolling away and putting some distance between them. The blades of the wing entered the wooden floor instead.
The Wanderer stood up to see the Arsonist remove the wing from the floor.
With the fight in a neutral standoff the two men took the moment of calm to pause and look at their empty hands.
…
… Hmmm.
Welp, they both had to fight with ye ol' fisticuffs now.
Arsonist made the first move by using his jetpack to dash in close and targeted Creighton's throat. The knight was ready for the jet dash and caught the Arsonist's ridge hand strike. He noted that it was aimed at his throat.
Creighton countered with a brutal right-handed punch to the gut.
The Arsonist felt all the air in his body forcefully leave his mouth as he hunched over the wanderer's fist.
Still holding on to the man's right arm Creighton used the arm to spin the Arsonist and throw him to the doorway back toward the room with the staircase to the 1st floor.
The wings of the jetpack caught on the door frame leaving the Arsonist open to another attack.
The knight followed up with an undead classic: an overly telegraphed haymaker.
It was too slow, Arsonist brought his wings forward to shield himself. He blocked the powerful hook and stumbled back into the room.
"Those punches are way too strong!" Arsonist worryingly thought. He inspected his wings.
"Phew, no damage so far. But I can't block that many punches with my wings, he might be strong enough to bend them with a few more of those hits." The lunatic chose to fold the wings up and stick with his fists. He wasn't going to risk wing damage over a fistfight.
Creighton moved through the doorway and shook the pain out of his right hand. Arsonist wasn't lying, those wings were tough.
Creighton was right to counter instead of attack first, this wasn't going to be another undead slap-fest where strategy gets thrown out the window in exchange for random parries and brain-dead haymakers.
On a related note, the Arsonist took up an actual fighting stance as he narrowed his frame to have his left shoulder pointed at the undead.
Right hand lifted up to protect the head, left arm low to cover the torso while the left shoulder was raised to cover the chin. It was a poor recreation of whatever the real stance was.
Arsonist's guard was too open, even Creighton could see that.
The Wanderer didn't bother with a stance. He left his fists at his sides, and then the two started circling each other.
Creighton engaged first with a right hook.
Bad move.
Arsonist's poor guard was still a guard. He was able to deflect the attack with his lead hand and send it away. The undead also put too much force into the attack which left him vulnerable to the next attack: Arsonist had converted his deflect into an oncoming elbow.
Arsonist's elbow swiftly connected to Creighton's throat.
He felt his airways constrict painfully as he reeled away from his opponent.
This was fine, he didn't need air anyway.
The knight struck out with a blind swipe to snuff out a follow up.
"HRGH!" Creighton grunted.
Instead he got a kick to the gut for his troubles.
He focused back on the Arsonist to see the man try to grab him.
He cut the attempt short with a swift uppercut.
*Dink*
The Arsonist's gas mask made a quite pleasing sound on contact.
"Nice! Now let's speed things up." The knight thought.
Left hook. *Dink*. Another one. Blocked.
Opponent bounces back with a kick to the right shin. Backpedal to regain balance.
Jab.
Whiff.
Arsonist punishes with return jab to the steel mask.
Oof, that one stung a bit. This time Creighton opted to raise his guard to block the next hit.
Arsonist was proving to be quite evasive, maybe another counter will do the trick.
The knight watched the ex-firefighter jump for his next attack and immediately regretted everything with a single thought:
"Fuck."
DROPKICK!
CRASH!
Arsonist's surprise dropkick sent Creighton back and his momentum broke the wooden railing of the staircase that he was about to tumble down. Naturally, gravity struck again with a vengeance and Creighton fell back down to the 1st floor into the awaiting gasoline puddle at the base of the stairs.
Splash!
Slowly, the Wanderer tried to stand up only to sit back down in the puddle again.
The world was spinning, that fall down the stairs left him disoriented.
Bink
Something was coming down the staircase. Creighton looked up the stairs but the Arsonist wasn't there.
Bink
Bouncing down the stairs was one of the lunatic's bright red firebombs.
Bink
The undead saw the grenade when it was at the foot of the stairs.
Bloop
Creighton, still dizzy, blankly watched it land in the gasoline puddle between his feet.
"Huh? … WAIT NO IT'S GONNA BLOW!".
The adrenaline kicked in and he scrambled to get up and run away from the oncoming inferno.
It was a futile effort, Creighton didn't get far before -
BOOM!
Flames ate him whole.
Arsonist
I didn't hear any screams of pain and terror from downstairs.
That was close, I got really lucky Creighton didn't notice his back was to the staircase or else he would've seen I was exploiting his position. I don't think I would've had the stamina to keep fighting him after my dropkick.
There was no way that maniac wasn't burning alive after tossing my incendiary grenade down there, right? He looked pretty discombobulated after I sent him tumbling down the stairs.
"You gotta be pulling my leg here Creighton." I say to myself.
I really wanted to hear some REAL screams. You know, with REAL pain in it.
I bet it would sound nice and soothing to my ears, but sadly Creighton wasn't the maniac I thought he was.
I will admit that he's a badass, but with his freaking lightning (seriously!?) axe and the way he ignored an axe to the stomach and an elbow to the throat I'm willing to bet the guy isn't even human.
Heh, who am I kidding. No one is human in this city. We're all just a different breed of monster.
But c'mon, Creighton had to be burning down there. I set this whole joint to catch fire. Hopefully when the fire truck explodes, that'll get a scream out of him.
Wait a second! I have things to do. I need to get my baby back and make sure this place is covered in flames!
So I ran back to the window where Creighton threw out my flamethrower. I'm about to jump out when I remember the second floor isn't on fire yet.
I hastily take out a backup matchbox out of one of my firefighter uniform's pockets and take a match out to light it.
And there! Ah yeah, first try!
I toss the lit match to the side of the room with the fire pole hole and the gasoline I poured out earlier lights up in flames.
There we go, nice and bright.
With that done I stuff the matchbox away and hop out the window to retrieve my baby.
During my fall I unfold my jetpack's wings and give myself a burst to glide my way over to my flamethrower.
I safely land on the street and I scoop up my weapon.
Now I'm back in action!
Fully equipped I turn around to check on the fire's progress.
Looking good so far, the garage door collapsed enough for me to see into the garage burning away. The single fire truck that was in there was surrounded by pretty flames, but it was still intact. Any second now the fuel tank would ignite and the truck would blow up glamorously.
The ground floor was still in the process of spreading the fire if the lack of smoke at the front door and the windows were any indication, and of course I just set the 2nd floor on fire a minute ago.
But still no sign of Creighton. I couldn't see the guy through any of the 1st floor windows, well if he was still alive he would pop out soon enough.
In the meantime I should give my baby a quick test run to see if it's still in good condition after getting thrown out the 2nd floor.
I turned on the thrusters and flew in a circle around the fire station spewing flames onto the building's exterior along with any room that was lacking fire.
Alright, my flamethrower still worked like a charm.
I completed my circle and stayed suspended in the air as I watched another one of my masterpieces put on a show.
Oooooh.
Aahhhhh.
Nice.
The fire was dancing and leaping around like a graceful ballerina. The crackling of the flames soothed my body to an almost sleep-like trance. All of my attention was on watching the fire… MY fire… burn gloriously as the fire station slowly crumbled away into ash and dust.
This was so much fun. I could never get enough of this view. So… so… beautiful.
…
I almost forgot that Creighton was still inside. Shaking myself out of my reverie, I put my attention on looking at the escape routes in front of the fire department:
The garage entrance, the front door, and the windows.
He sure is taking his sweet time.
KABOOM!
WOAH! The fire truck just exploded.
Thump
I just heard something heavy hit the floor. That sounded like a body.
Bang!
The front door busted open and I saw Creighton appear.
I gasped in excitement. He was on fire!
He was trying to put himself out. As soon as he was out the door he hurled himself onto the street and started rolling around.
The scene of Creighton burning sparked an old memory, a good one before this city went to hell. I should've known that would happen in hindsight.
Old habits die hard.
"Stop, drop, and roll goddamn it! Don't you remember training lessons at all!?"
I flinched as I heard my past self yell out basic fire safety in frustrated concern. I remember that I was carrying a fire extinguisher to save the lovable idiot who was on fire.
Those were good times.
"Argh! Snap out of it!" I grumble to myself.
Right, I can't be having a nostalgia trip. I've got people to burn.
I look back to Creighton. He was still on fire and still rolling around like a madman. The flames were steadily dying out. I need to keep him cooking.
I fly close to him and land on the ground.
Now that I'm next to him I notice he hasn't made a single noise yet despite the fact he's BURNING ALIVE!
That has to be painful, how has he not screamed at least once? Was it really so painful that he couldn't make a noise?
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaahahahaaa!
MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOOOOOP!"
Out of nowhere Creighton screams at the top of his lungs begging the fire to go away.
Oooohhhh YES!
THERE WAS THE SCREAM I WAS WAITING FOR!
What a wonderful scream. My ears felt tingly and my head buzzed as it entered a high which left me frozen in place.
…
This was euphoric.
…
I don't know how long I was standing there watching the poor sap burn alive. This sensation practically paralyzed me for a lack of a better word.
…
Eventually my pyro senses came back in full force. All I wanted to do now was to keep Creighton on fire.
He was close to snuffing out his fire, now that just won't do.
I point my flamethrower at him, and pull the trigger.
Psssst!
"What?" I said in shock.
Nothing came out except air. I tried again.
Psssst!
Huh!? Only air and no flames!? Why?
Wait, my vision is blurry for some reason.
I wipe a hand over my gas-mask and it clears up only for a rapid series of raindrops to start obscuring my vision again.
Then I notice the dampness of my clothes.
It was raining.
And not just a little sprinkle, it was raining HARD which made my flamethrower useless.
It'd be like using it underwater in this rain.
I clear my vision again to check on Creighton. The rain put him out already, but he was still rolling on the floor and making pained grunts.
Oh, I remember this!
Afterburn
The feeling of being on fire doesn't just go away once you're put out.
He's gonna be feeling that phantom burn for a little bit before he recovers. Perfect opportunity to get out of here.
I ain't staying to see a furious Creighton on my ass.
Even if he was on fire he'll probably just hop right back up good as new ready to fight like he did before.
And in this rain I can only use my jetpack.
This is DEFINITELY time to leave.
Welp, see ya Creighton!
"Goodbye!" I say a bit too giddy to the maniac.
Voom!
With that said I turn on my jetpack and begin flying away into the rainy sky.
I better go hide somewhere, only my jetpack and grenades are water-resistant… which means it's time to check up on my equipment after all that action.
After I gain some height I look around to decide where to go.
Uhh I think I'll go that direction, I'm pretty sure that's East.
Before I go any further I stop and turn to look at Creighton. Even at this distance and through the rain I can still see him rolling around.
I wasn't lying when I said I have a knack for shiny stuff. Creighton's helmet-mask thing and his axe glowed like a beacon to me from up here.
"Keh heh heh."
A chuckle escaped my mouth as I thought:
"It isn't going to be hard to find you again."
Creighton the Wanderer
Pain.
It hurt so much. Creighton had never been on fire for so long.
Creighton was used to pyromancies and explosives that were one and done, they didn't linger like this fire did.
It was bearable at first, bearable enough for Creighton to escape the collapsing fire department.
Now that he was out of there he was rolling around for gods knew how long trying to make the burning go away.
Nothing else mattered.
Even an undead like him could only tolerate so much pain before he broke under the pressure and yelled to the heavens.
In fact, he did that a few moments ago.
"Go away go away it hurts it hurts just keep rolling make it stop."
Creighton's thoughts were a mess. He had his eyes shut from the pain. He was still burning.
Just keep rolling.
Just keep rolling.
It will go away soon enough.
"Goodbye!"
Creighton heard the voice of the Arsonist from somewhere near him.
Was that sicko watching him burn?
Voom!
That was the jetpack. He was flying away!
"You bastard!"
Spurred by vengeance, Creighton opened his eyes to try and see him.
It was unsuccessful as the knight was still rolling around, but Creighton saw that he wasn't on fire anymore.
"I'm not on fire? Then why am I still burning!?" He thought as he looked at his body.
The pain was still there.
Finally, Creighton managed to stop his rolling and got to his knees.
He looked down to his Estus flask that was thankfully still in its designated pouch on his belt. He gasped excitedly. If he wasn't on fire anymore, surely one chug or two wouldn't be a waste.
Thirsty for some heals, he snatched it up.
"Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes YES!"
Those were his thoughts while he drunk his Estus flask.
The soothing warmth of Estus ran through his body, patching up all the skin that was cooked well-done.
After the Estus worked its magic Creighton flopped on his back in relief. The phantom burn was still there, but it was nowhere near as bad.
The knight felt like taking another sip of Estus to get rid of it entirely.
"Three uses left. Don't be dense, save your Estus. You can bear the pain, my good man."
The calculating, undead side of Creighton told him otherwise. The afterburn would go away soon.
"Grrrr, you're right… I can handle the pain. One sip should be enough." Creighton reasoned with himself while hungrily staring at the flask in his hands.
With a reluctant grunt the Wanderer stuffed his Estus flask away and stayed on the ground.
He was going to enjoy NOT being on fire for a few seconds.
Now that he wasn't in unbearable pain he could pay attention to his surroundings again.
*boop*
A water droplet hit Creighton in the eye.
…
"Huh." He said blankly as he noticed the water droplets pouring on him.
He felt… wet.
It felt pretty good, Creighton liked it.
"Oh, it's raining." The knight realized.
He sat up to look at the rain falling all around him.
"About time it started raining."
The timing of the rain left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Would've been helpful earlier. Ugh, the luck of an undead never fails. Mild-mannered Pate would be havin' a real fuckin giggle if he saw me right now." Creighton said with pent up annoyance.
He couldn't stay annoyed at his luck though, the sound of the rainfall was relaxing and the feeling of cool water touching his skin through the chainmail was oddly enough soothing to him.
He closed his eyes to take in the feeling of the rain, soon he felt a dumb smile creep up his face while the frustration he had melted away.
"I knew the rain would feel nice." Creighton blissfully said in his enjoyment.
After a few minutes of enjoying the rain, he opened up his eyes and stood to his feet with renewed vigor.
It was time to get on moving.
Creighton looked around the street to see where to go next and was met with the destroyed fire station.
His high spirits fell a bit looking at the collapsed building.
"Right, Arsonist." He thought.
He didn't want to think about that guy right now. Creighton chose to move past it and began walking to his right to get away from the fire station.
The knight walked… and walked… and walked down the stone street.
And then… the street ended.
In front of him was a large chasm like the one he crossed to fight the Arsonist. A fog covered the bottom of the chasm, and he could see the other side where more streets and buildings resided. Seeing this made him think.
"What am I doing? I should find a spot to sit down and listen to the rain. Walking will do me no good. Even this city thinks that."
Deciding to take a break, Creighton searched for a place to rest.
This street clearly had nothing good.
He looked up and down the chasm, he could walk alongside it. To his left the unofficial sidewalk beside the chasm stretched on until the fog overtook it. The gaps between buildings showed one or two streets that were visible from where he stood, but there were likely more hidden in the fog. To his right was a dead end where a building stood right at the edge of the chasm threatening to fall right in, but it did lead to a single street. Interestingly, on that street there was a skinny man-made bridge that crossed the chasm. He had no interest in crossing it, so for now he put it to the side.
The wanderer opted to explore the dead end. If he had a good selection then the dead end would be the safest place to rest. There'd only be one entrance to watch.
Creighton walked along the edge passing by T-shaped poles with wires on them. Some wires were freely hanging while others crossed the chasm to connect with other poles or buildings. He passed a fenced-in area in front of an apartment building which housed a lonely tire swing, not that the undead knew what a tire was besides a strange looking wheel. He reached the street right where the fence ended, and he saw that the street led to another dead end.
Creighton made the brief walk over to the end of the road and found himself lucky.
The only real object in this dead end was an open dumpster surrounded by trash up against some building that had a small hole in the wall above the dumpster. Looked like a venting hole, between said vent and the dumpster was a metal overhang that partially covered the dumpster.
And there was a nice looking spot to Creighton's right. It was an entrance to one of the abandoned apartments that littered the Pale City.
The door was boarded shut with two steps leading up to it, and there was a little overhang that provided some shelter from the rain.
Creighton sat on the higher of the two steps and put his back against the door. His legs were in the rain, but he didn't mind.
Then Creighton put his dragonslayer axe between his legs to cradle it. Much better.
He was comfortable here. Now he could rest for a while.
The Wanderer from Mirrah shut his eyes and let the sounds of rain wash his thoughts away.
End of chapter 5
Alrighty, welcome to surprise review time where I respond to a review or 2.
Mr. Journey: Yeah, for my first ever story I think this is some good shit too. Glad you kinda like it my good man.
Prin. Exe: Happy to hear you like this story my good fellow. Nice prediction you have of the relationship between Creighton and our two scrappy fellas Mono and Six. Fatherly instincts are a factor to consider, but the problem is kids usually appear as corpses or skeles in Dark Souls unless they are talking crows or painters stuck in a painting. It's most likely that Creighton hasn't even seen a live child since he's turned undead, the idea of children existing is foriegn to him. He's in for a rough time and awkward feelings when Mono and Six show up.
Review time end
Ahhh yes, I finally finished this chapter WHOOOOOO. Around 6500 words in this baby not considering this whole Author's Note. It's not much compared to some other stories (looking at you 'Despairs Remnants' with 100k words in some chapters like AYO WHAT THE FRICK BRO-) but for me it was a hassle.
Crumbling OMORI watching addiction aside, this chapter was a slow process for me. Pretty interesting experience for a first-time writer like myself.
Decided to toss a POV shift to 1st person for the Arsonist bc I wanted to try impersonating a crazy person, you know, as you do.
I had two concepts for the 'Arsonist vs Creighton' encounter: one was the scene seen(heh) here with dialogue and the other one was my original idea back when I first came up with this story where it was more… uhh… Little Nightmares(LN) based with no dialogue between them and just them two seeing each other and fighting.
I'm kinda thinkin about writing out the "LN style" concept and putting it as a one-shot (that's the term, right?) or bonus chapter, but that won't be coming anytime soon I think. Story time/development comes first!
BTW, what did you think of 'The Arsonist'? I think it ain't half-bad for an OC little nightmares monster. My inspirations for him are Firefly(Batman: Arkham Series) and a LN monster design 'the firefighter' by one ArtsyArctic on Deviantart. Also the Pyro from TF2 because you know that fireax throw was a real critical hit moment.
Yikers it is about to be 4:00 am where I'm at. At least it's still summer for a few more weeks before… ugh, college. I can afford to stay up this late with zero consequences.
Well, I've had enough time rambling for one night. I hope you had a good read!
Good night, y'all.