Now for the rest of you folks. If you're ill-informed, this battle was challenged to me by Hewitt quite a few months ago. However, we both got terribly distracted and this battle faded into darkness. Since then I've tried my hardest to add on to it bit by bit in between all my other endeavors. And now I've finally finished it.
I warn you right now! There are pieces in this chapter that only make sense if you read my first battle with Bond beforehand. Along with the prologue on my character's profile. I highly recommend you do that first. If not, thank you for reading anyway. Now, behold!
Spoiler (Click to Show)
Skyscrapers and society aren't his types of places to visit. In fact he hated the idea of being within city limits. But every once in a while Sacred had to take a demeaning trip within town limits. There was only so much he could understand with the help of only mother nature herself. Although others may see him under a scrutinized light with genuine concern, their carelessness and ignorance tend to keep them away. And when approached by him, they feel the need to answer honestly if only to play it safe.
With little wear, Sacred's arms were left uncovered, revealing the pulsating faded red and blue beneath his skin. The colors trailed through his veins and depicted tattooed trees. They were an ice breaker, but his stance and walk were sculptors. He didn't have the look of an approachable samaritan. An intimidating stature contrasting his body size that overshadowed the hunched and whimpering. Those unsure of what they wanted or where they were going humbled beneath his look of purpose, and yet he himself had little clue on where his actions were taking him.
His mind had be instilling the words that continued to echo from before.
"If I didn't say it before, thanks a lot for not killing me back there."
Jibber Jabber's words floated above him as he took another sip. The sheet beneath them was imitating a picnic. Sacred didn't hesitate to ask.
"Were you planning on killing me?"
Not long enough pause for the answer to be thought over.
"In all honesty? There was a chance."
The mood darkened. The wasteland surrounding them didn't help.
"A chance?"
"Don't take it the wrong way! I don't dislike you or anything! In fact I consider you a friend now. Things just get out of hand sometimes. One moment you're investigating an empty village, the next you're fighting with some tattooed up badass. That's how wRHG works."
That term. JJ used it as an excuse before. It was an incentive to boast and hype. It seemed to be the core of his purpose.
"What is wRHG?"
JJ smirked as if he was proud of what he was about say. He put his cup down and began speaking without looking up.
"It's an outlet."
Too simple of an answer.
"An outlet?"
JJ raised his head and reassuringly spoke.
"An outlet. A way for us as warriors to release our inner rage through means of epic proportions."
The words still don't make sense and JJ didn't go much deeper with explanation. From what Sacred could understand, it's just people with more than natural capabilities challenging each other to skirmishes. For what reason would this be an outlet, though? How could such destructive intent be a way to release one's feelings? It didn't add up. Where did this idea originate?
Sacred realized he was drifting and no longer focusing on where he was going. The sound of the city recuperated in his ears. The unsuspecting civilians moving without thought of disaster or pain. This place. It's large. And still standing. No one here realized how quickly it could be wiped off the face of the planet. How powerful the world could be...
A drink always seemed to fix everything. Loosen the muscles, calm the nerves. But dealing with stress hasn't been the same since everything happened. It used to be a drink to relieve working overtime. Now it's to forget the past. The familiar glossed wood countertop and scent of liquor mixed with ashtrays made that hard to achieve.
"Rough time?"
Sacred looked over his shoulder. A man looking as suspicious as possible stood. His hands were tucked away in trench coat pockets, but his look suggested that the one sitting at the bar was hiding something.
"You could say that."
The man welcomed himself into the next seat, ordering a drink.
"Yeah, the city can do that to you."
Sacred thought it be better to let that statement float unanswered. The man only added on.
"Unless you're not from the city."
The man at this point could clearly see Sacred's arms with their artwork. It was obvious he was trying to attain something.
"What do you want?"
The man raised his eyebrows.
"Straight to the point, eh?"
Sacred was waiting for an answer.
"I think the better question is, what is it that you want?"
A stalemate was in session. Now he was waiting for an answer. The man obviously knew Sacred had more intention than simply visiting the city. But the question was, how much did he know? The silence was tension. But it was broken by the bartender putting down the ordered drink in between them.
"Thanks."
The man, however, ceased to move for his drink. He noticed the silent treatment.
"Look, Sacred. I know who you are. And I know what you've done."
Sacred froze. How in the hell did this guy know his name? And what exactly was he talking about?
"My name's Ashe Mercay and I'm a private detective. I know all about what you've done. This will be a lot easier if you just give up now."
He doesn't mean….unless. Sacred felt something press against his side. It felt like a tube. His eyes glanced down to see the tip of a revolver poking out of Ashe's coat, cocked and ready to fire. The moment grew much more awkward.
"And what if I don't?"
Ashe looked at him with an interest. The sound of scraping became apparent. Sacred watched the placed glass of alcohol slide on it's own into Ashe's hand resting on the countertop. His eyes widened. The detective sounded cocky.
"Don't act like you haven't dealt with someone like me before."
The moment was now more than just tension, it was danger. The situation had escalated far more than Sacred would have hoped. It seemed his options were limited. They were in a public place and in the middle of the city. Creating a fight here wouldn't be smart. Sacred instead had another idea.
"You don't have words that float above your head, do you?"
The detective looked confused.
"What?"
Suddenly the glass resting in his hand shattered. Fragments fired in separate directions in his palm. Ashe jerked his hand and fell back from the surprise off his chair.
Sacred immediately jumped out of his seat and full sprinted to the door. Ashe, unfazed and letting his bleeding hand hang, aimed his gun. All the bar patrons immediately scattered and took cover, making a shot impossible, while Sacred had shouldered his way out the door.
Ashe lowered his revolver, other hand still bleeding.
"Yeah, that's him alright."
Sacred's sprint didn't halt at the door. He continued to run through the street, making cars screech and honk. Drivers cursed but their yells only fuzzed behind the urgency to escape the area. In the midst of his sprint he landed both feet on the ground.
Ashe followed behind pressing his way out the bar. As soon as his vision caught wind of Sacred, the ground shook. Beneath him a piece of the road separated itself, splitting off from the ground and rising into the air. The hole in the ground revealed the underwork of the street. The detective could not believe his eyes.
Sacred, now riding atop a hovering cement rock, began navigating his way down the city from above in a fast pace. The frustration appeared on Ashe's face.
"You didn't tell me he could do this, Lyle."
As Ashe continued to keep his eyes on Sacred, he stepped forward and slid down the sidewalk as if he were wearing a roller blade. He repeated the process with his other foot and began to move as if he were ice skating only centimeters above the ground.
"So they don't even know what his powers are? That's pretty sloppy."
He was now sliding down the sidewalk at a tremendous speed, making others move out of the way in shock and awe, his eyes still fixed on the floating rock. There distance stopped growing as Ashe was keeping pace.
Sacred looked back to see the supernatural detective following suit. He leaned to the left causing the rock beneath him to curve around a building, changing streets. Ashe did the same as well, jumping from the sidewalk onto the road and cutting through an intersection. A car had pulled right in front of him through the traffic, in which he jumped and planted his feet on top of, smoothly sliding over it's roof and landing back on the road, momentum not faltering. He began snaking his way through traffic while keeping on Sacred's tail.
Sacred, wind blowing on his front side, noticed and turned to a small alleyway that had a dead end. Ashe followed close behind and realized this immediately. Sacred had pulled up and began rising up to the top of the building.
With his speed not regressing, Ashe jumped and stretched his left limbs out. As both his foot and forearm made contact with the brick-ware, he began to elevate from the ground. His momentum curved from going forward to up, his speed still progressively gaining.
Sacred had paralleled himself over the rooftops of the buildings, thinking he had lost Ashe. But with his high speed, Ashe launched himself from the top of the wall over the buildings. He traveled a rainbow path through the sky. He began to descend from the peak of the catapulted flight, aiming himself perfectly towards his target. He landed right on the rock Sacred was riding. The impact of Ashe caused Sacred to lose balance and fall off.
He threw his arm out towards his crash site. The roof underneath the impact of his hand cracked and follied. He rolled across until he gained footing and turned his attention to Ashe who had landed on the same rooftop with his revolver pointed.
Not a moment's hesitation before the first shot was fired. Immediately Sacred threw his arm up, yanking a gravel-like pillar up in between him and the bullet. A heart-stopping moment only inches away. Its friends were released from the gun's chamber in sequential order. Each met with the same pillar pulled just in the nick of time. The firing had stopped. His revolver must've ran out of ammo.
Sacred spartan kicked the pillar out from in front of him towards Ashe. The millisecond the detective had to avoid was used well. He quickly span, having the pillar fly by only a short distance from his chest.
He kneeled mid-spin, finishing with a face towards Sacred. He flicked his still bleeding hand on the side of the revolver's chamber, spinning it like a game of Russian Roulette. It stopped and the gun clicked. He raised his gun at Sacred yet again. But how?
He was too quick. He fired a shot, tagging the back of Sacred's left calf. His scream of pain echoed on the same level of the current commotion. Down on one knee he went, gaining a disadvantage. Ashe yelled to him,
"Given up yet?"
Sacred's teeth clenched, his eyes squinted with a painful glare.
"Fuck off."
Sacred pushed an arm forward. The floor between him and Ashe rose. The detective attempted to land a shot in, but to no avail. The rising ground was traversing towards him like a cement tidal wave. He quickly took a step back and rode up to the top and over the wave.
Ashe readied himself for an attack. Sacred, however, was no longer there. Ashe looked at his hand, still freshly wet with blood and scrapes. He picked out a piece of glass, cringing absent. Then began to look around.
"I don't see him. But I got a shot in, so he shouldn't be too far."
…
"Healing?"
A hand shattered from the roof underneath him. The back of his collar was caught in the grip and ripped down into the concrete. His body hit the floor, the blow padded by him catching himself. But the ground in front of him tore open as Sacred jumped out and came flying down with a rock-hard fist.
Immediately Ashe rolled away just as Sacred's hand made contact with the roof, cascading a clack to emit from impact. The detective attempted to raise his revolver again, only to be bull rushed off the side of the building.
As they were groundless, Sacred clawed his hand into the brickwork of the side of the building next over. His falling halted almost suddenly. Ashe caught himself and turned his body, landing his feet against the wall. His locomotion caught wind as he defied gravity and u-turned a few feet from the ground to begin speeding back at the hanging enemy.
Sacred looked down and saw the racing force coming at him, revolver drawn. Sacred planted both his feet against the bricks and improvised his own locomotion, tearing the surface underneath him as he slid down the side of the wall. Unlike his chaser, however, he had to keep his hands clawed in, creating distinguishable trails following suit.
Ashe wasn't far behind, only getting closer by the second. He took notice of Sacred's unoriginality, yet didn't have time to feel praised. He would fire a shot or two, only for it to miss from the quickness and intensity. Not to mention the ground wasn't parallel to them.
Sacred flung his arm up, then back down. Out of the opposite wall sprung a column of chipped and broken brick. It's impact thrusted upon the area between the two, causing debris to fling. Ashe quickly swung himself around the column, having his hand keep in contact against the surface as he hung from below and recovered horizontally on the wall.
As he landed, Sacred had reached the end of the alley and was soon to be upon society once again. He powerfully struck his hand into the edge, hooking his body from it's forward momentum, and then throwing himself around the corner and onto the front of the building.
With his feet landed and now held by artificial restraints, he ripped his hand from the damage and raised both his arms, still horizontal to gravity and holding a mighty position. Ashe's speed was well too fast for him to redirect himself in the moment. Instead, he drew both revolvers. However, by the time his aim steadied, both fists were crunched down upon his chest. The detective's body flipped backwards as he flew from one side of the street to the other, crashing through a window and into an empty apartment.
Ashe slowly forced himself off the chipped cheap wood boards underneath him. His trench coat, torn and ripped, hung limp from his elbows, resisting to rise as he was.
Two feet stomped down on the sill of the smashed window. Sacred took a look at the detective down on all fours, not making much effort to get back up on his feet. Sacred stepped into the trashed apartment, carefully watching Ashe.
"Are you done?" Sacred asked.
Ashe waited a second to answer, "You wish."
In a heartbeat Ashe pushed his torso from the ground and drew not one, but two revolvers from his waist beneath the damaged coat.
Sacred's eyes widened and raised his elbows. As the shots began to blaze the wood boards ripped off the floor and jumped in between them. Every bullet penetrated the wood and went through slightly redirected, grazing his arms and making blood jump from his body. With every hole made by a shot, Sacred would bulk it back up with the wood fragments shot off, collecting back into solid spots.
Although the bullets flew past and through him, Sacred charged forward. Through the pain he screamed and clenched his fists, shattering the wood in front of him. Shards launched forward from the collapse and stabbed right through Ashe, flinging him backwards.
He had ended up