Crank's version (Click to Show)
Glancing outside, the afternoon light was beginning to dim. Winter was coming, and it’s chills were already eroding the days away. Crossing his arms, he leaned back in his chair, but when he heard the door ding, he opted out of closing his eyes to take a quick glance. They opened wider upon the sight of the man. Granted, it was who he was hoping to see, but… not exactly in what he was… expecting. He looked like he was wearing a recently killed white dire wolf, still bloody and draped over his, even bloodier, vest and shirt. If he wasn’t getting used to how those stains looked, he would’ve assumed it was just the natural color of his leather.
Between his blatant staring and the fact the coffee shop was lacking many patrons, it was clear to Serif that he was the man who requested the meeting, and after buying a drink of his own, he sat down across from him.
“I uh,” Scratching the back of his neck behind his hood, Dozer tried forcing a chuckle, “Suppose you missed the part where I asked for the meeting to be inconspicuous?”
Taking a sip of his coffee, Serif nodded.
Shrugging, the late teen hesitantly mimicked the movement. “Did you hear why I wanted to talk to you, at least?”
“You wanted to speak to me about Dex,” Winters confirmed, “But I would like to know why.”
“He…” Dozer paused for a moment, trying to gage how much of his personal life he could spill out, “Well, I heard you were looking for someone too. Olivia, I think her name was?”
“Is her name the only thing you know of her?”
A pregnant pause fell on them.
“...Yeah, sorry.”
Serif inhaled deeply before slowly taking another sip of his drink. Setting his paper cup back on the table, he let the silence settle before looking Derrick in his brown eyes. “You said ‘too’.”
“Right, I did,” Dozer forced a half smile only to lose it just as fast, “Rachel, my sister.”
“You have my condolences, I have a sister myself. Is she older or younger?”
“Younger. I…” Dozer cleared his throat, “I was there when it happened… She tried- did save me… And now I have to save her. It’s… it’s why I’m here.”
“Then I wish you well in your quest,” After taking another quick drink, he inquired, “But why have you sought me out? Do you suspect our enemies to be one in the same, or is it simply for the common ground?”
“It could be either,” His words came out like a somber confession, back to playing with his straw, “To be honest, I don’t know what Decks would want with a child, but then again, I have no idea what he’s after anyway…” The silence lingered for a few moments before he looked up to face Serif, perplexion plastered on his inked face. “...What?”
“Dex?”
Leaning back into his chair, Dozer nodded hesitantly.
“...Dex was killed this morning.”
“Decks?”
“The serial killer who used a device to trap his victims into a realm of his control for his amusement?”
“I…” He shook his head in disbelief, “Are… how do you know?”
“I watched him die.”
“How?” Suddenly upright, urgency sped Dozer’s word’s, “How did he die? Who killed him?”
“Two of his creations, as well as myself. I threw my knife into his chest, and a young woman ripped it out and stabbed him to death with it.”
“Was she-”
“I apologize, her name was Ida.”
A heavy breath quivered out of Derrick’s body. “...And my sister?”
“I was of the impression his captives would return to this world.”
“Under the impression? But where? How?”
“I didn’t ask.”
Without warning, Dozer’s palm slammed on the table. “You didn’t ask!” Serif took another sip of his drink; the other patrons were beginning to stare. Some began packing, others reached for their phones. “But you knew there were others?”
“My plan wasn’t initially to kill him, Dozer. The situation became complicated and fell out of my control.”
“And his cards?”
“His what?”
“His cards!” Voice booming, Derrick was growing frantic, “Decks’ cards! Did he have his cards on him!”
“I didn’t look. I didn’t know I should’ve looked. What was special about them?”
“His name is Decks!” Jolting to his feet, the younger ran his hands through his hair, beginning to pace wildly. “And that’s where he held my sister! You said you saw him die? Then how could you not know about his cards!”
Gradually, Serif rose to his feet. “He was trapping people in an entire world when I crossed his path…” Carefully, he strode to Dozer, “When, exactly, did he take your sister?”
“A world? He doesn’t create worlds! I’d been training to set her free for over two years now! And y-”
“Two years? Over two years?” Dumbfounded, Serif stared at the young man as he neared his boiling point, “You don’t think he could advance his technology in that long?” Derrick was near popping a blood vessel, but looking for a kidnappee himself, with a sister of his own, Serif couldn’t pull his view out of the situation. “A serial killer took your little sister and for two years you do nothing but train? While he could do anything under the stars to her?”
“Don’t you dare say another word.”
“How can you call yourself her brother?”
The sound of a thud echoed through the small cafe, wood crashing on the floor in a horrific bang soon after, as the table failed to catch Serif’s body. Dozer’s phone practically exploded from the hard fall, and coffee spilled like blood under the cracked furniture, slowly spreading to Serif, blinking on the ground as his cheek pulsed with pain.
“Get up,” Dozer looked unhinged, breathing heavily as his shadow cast over Serif, “You’re a gladiator? Then this is a challenge.”
Checking under his eye for a gash, Serif’s gaze hardened as he looked up at the man. “I decline.”
Reaching into his pocket, the hooded teen withdrew a small black staff the size of his palm, quickly extending to be the length of his body, pointing it down at Serif’s face. “You ask me how I call myself a brother when I dedicate two years to getting strong enough to save my sister, but then you don’t lift a finger to make sure others are alright when the chance is right in front of you? How can you call yourself a ’hero’? The challenge was a formality. Get up.”
“If I don’t?”
Dozer’s eye twitched and his teeth grit. Part of him wanted to ram his staff into Serif’s eye and leave him unconscious on the floor, but underneath all his fury, the ember of his honor still burned. He couldn’t hit a man while he was down, much less down and unarmed, but he couldn’t let that stand either. Violently ripping himself away, he stomped off a few paces before whirling around.
“You know what? I don’t care if you want to fight or not! You want to talk about me training? Fine. But at least I’m ready and know what I’m getting into.” Holding his ground, his eyes burned holes into Serif’s skull as the inked man sat up. “You chase everyone who tries to get close to you away. I talked to Krystal about you. She wanted t- she was going to help you, but when she saw how quick you went for the kill against Feather, and how quick you just blew off her word, you made her think you were dangerous and not the kind of person who should be around a child. I asked the RHG what they thought about you, and they told me that after fighting Krystal you cut a man’s hand off like some psychotic vigilante? They think you’re a horrible investment and told me outright that if Nightshade or Kyra were still active, they’d use either to carve your name out of their system. You have no one, you need someone, and I have people, but I need someone Decks doesn’t know about.”
“Again, Dex is dead.” Slowly, The Hero of New Salem rose to his feet.
“I don’t know why, but you’re lying. If Rachel was gone, I’d know, and if she was back, she’d call me.”
“Two years passed.”
“I needed to get ready for what I was getting into! Who saves Olivia when you die at the end of your suicidal rush? You think you’re invulnerable just because you have a mission? Grab your weapon, I’ll show you just how dangerous this world can be!”
Frowning, Serif slowly reached into his vest, only to realize neither of his weapons were a good match against a staff. It could easily tangle a bola, and it’s range was too long to get close with his blade, which lacked the weight to block a swing. Unsure, he picked his coffee cup off the ground, lid somehow have remaining attached. Swishing it around momentarily, he took one final swig of it’s contents, but as he lowered the cup, his teeth latched on the rim, subtly removing it. In a swift jerk, steaming contents flew forward at his foe, who even startled was able to raise an arm to shield his face, still yelping as a small portion sneaked by, searing his jaw and just above his eye.
Staggering back as he frantically tried wiping it away, the sound of charging footsteps stole his attention, and as he snapped his gaze to Serif, he caught the glint of a knife as it was thrust forward. In a panic, his staff glew green as he swung it wildly, blind luck saving him as its center struck his assailant, causing the man to stumble to the side. With a sharp twist while Dozer retreated the opposite direction, his weapon’s light shifted blue, and in a burst, a ball of kinetic power rushed from the end of his weapon, ramming into Serif’s palm and knocking his knife through the store, metal clanging on the ground as it bounced.
Shaking his wrist, Winters and Ozer matched a glare before the later’s weapon began emitting a light once more. With barely a second thought, the hunter grabbed the nearest chair and launched it forward, but it’s slow speed made it easy to evade for the younger man, red slipping into the blue and creating a deep, luminous purple. Grunting, Serif began pacing towards a small round table as the red began dominating the color, Derrick’s entire weapon beginning to shake as he struggled to stabilize it. Without warning, it fired like a cannon, and quick as he could, The Hero of New Salem flipped the furniture, ducking behind his makeshift shield. He expected an impact, but what he got was closer to an explosion. Wood splintered upon contact with the red orb, pulverising the table and sending it’s shards forward like shrapnel, impaling into the hunter, barely slowed by all his layers. Howling as his back oozed crimson, the Gemini lost his balance, falling to his hands and knees before pushing off the hardwood floors and scooping a handful of the larger pieces of oak.
Whirling around with a fury, he barely aimed the first shard, easily knocked aside like a baseball as Dozer charged his next shot, but his next chuck was a strike for the man with the staff, fist size piece of wood ramming into his stomach and expelling all the air from his body. It wasn’t enough for him to break his concentration, but when the follow up smashed into his cheek, his purple blast discharged into the ground between them while he fell on his back. Blinking a few times, Dozer slowly sat up, but a horrific smash startled him, his eyes quickly landing on Serif, breathing heavily as he held the broken frame of a chair, fractured legs on the ground. Looking over them, the hunter grabbed the longest of the four, both about two feet in length before turning back to the late teen. The fracture wasn’t clean, but they were jagged enough to draw blood with a hard enough hit.
“Tell me something Dozer,” His eyes were cold as he approached, Derrick quickly scampering upright as the distance closed, “You were hunting a murderer. Why did you select a staff for your quest?”
“Because I’m no killer.”
“And you expected him to hold back because you don’t carry an edge or gun?”
“No, but I don’t have to hold back with this.” With a vicious swing, his metal weapon met the legs Serif was armed with and the sound of the thud echoed through the cafe as people finally decided now would be a good time to go. Despite having the superior weapon, however, Dozer lacked the physical strength of the hunter, who shoved him a few paces back. The black metallic rod began glowing once more, but as he arced it at Serif, he was able to bat it away with his left stick before smashing the right into his knee, which buckled with the blow, before bringing the second down on the back of Dozer’s skull. He didn’t feel himself fall, but Derrick felt the impact of the ground, his brain throbbing as pain radiated from his body. There was a faint darkness on the edges of his vision, but from what he could see, Serif was crouched before him.
“If I were Dex, you’d be dead.”
Dozer’s teeth grit. He still had a hand on his staff, pulsing with power, it’s purple glow casting the two in an ominous light. Shaking, he pushed himself upright to his knees, fire in his eyes meeting the ice in Serif’s.
“I suggest you buy a gun.”
“I don’t need a gun.”
“Do you th