Chương 18: 5.4 A Monster Among Monsters

I pulled Deen back before Purple Mohawk's fist connected with her face. Deen was too shocked to react. Purple Mohawk yanked out his arm and tore away the front part of our cage.

"You bitches think you've got me ensnared by your scheme?" he snarled.

"I'm no fool! Pray all you want that the police, the BID, the Corebrings, anyone, save you. But no one's coming! I don't care if you're a Leska, a Minnow, or you're the daughter of President Garland. I can't have you mocking my intelligence with your transparent plans that won't trick a child!" This is it. I slipped out the tranquilizer darts from my pocket and stabbed Deen's back, taking care that Purple Mohawk couldn't see what I did.

"Ple-please wait, Mr. Firio!" Deen held up her hands.

"Let us talk—Ow! Erind? What… was…?" She slumped backward. Some fast-acting tranquilizer this was.

"Deen!" I cried, shaking her.

"What happened to you?" That gave Purple Mohawk pause. He furrowed his brows.

"Oh my god!" I hugged Deen as I sobbed.

"Are you alright? Deen, wake up!" My ickiness with physical contact didn't get triggered as much if I did the touching. Purple Mohawk laughed.

"It appears that your friend has fainted. Very disrespectful." He grabbed Deen's leg and pulled her out of the cage. I let go of Deen after a couple of feeble tugs. If I had used my superstrength, Purple Mohawk would've noticed I wasn't normal, and I might injure Deen. I was resolved to keep her alive. She was right about the Leska thing. She'd be useful to me someday.

"Deen!" I crawled after her, crying and hiccupping. The hiccupping part wasn't intentional.

"Don't hurt her, please! She's my best friend." My performance was laughable. How was I supposed to do dramatic scenes like this?

"Little girl, you do know that both of you are going to die here?" Purple Mohawk dropped Deen to the floor.

"Now, you do. Not by my hands—I keep my promise, as I always do. Bigsby and the others will be in charge of your deaths. Before that, I think they'll want to have some fun. We all do. Been a long day interviewing and watching people die. Your blonde friend has an especially delectable body." Purple Mohawk grabbed the front of Deen's shirt and pulled it up, ripping it open.

"How about we see more of it?"

"No!" I splayed myself over Deen, a weak girl desperate to protect her best friend.

"Please, don't touch her. I'll offer my body." I wanted to get Purple Mohawk closer to me. I had to make my first hit as accurate as possible.

"Your body? Now, now, little girl. We'll have a taste of you later because I don't want you feeling left out. But even you have to admit that your best friend here is beautifully endowed. In contrast, you're… unappetizing. Let's just put it that way." Unappetizing? That sounded way more offensive than it should be. Couldn't he have used another adjective? His life was forfeit even if he'd begged me.

"Bigsby over there has a thing for little girls," said Purple Mohawk.

"I'll give you to him later." He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me up.

"For now, just watch your best friend—" I grabbed his wrist, clamping my fingers around it like a manacle. I expected to pulverize his bones but only managed a couple of cracks. Too tough. No time for hesitation. I punched his face with all my might, swinging my body along. My fist connected with Purple Mohawk's jaw and tore it off! I missed! I should've hit his fucking brain. He leaned back at the last moment. My element of surprise was wasted.

Both of us fell to the ground as Purple Mohawk screamed, spraying blood. I punched again, aiming for his forehead. He raised his free arm to block me. My knuckles cracked upon hitting his arm, and so did his bones. I managed to hammer his arm down to his face, but his head remained safe. Purple Mohawk roared in fury, his tongue flapping freely, and tried to throw me away as he scrambled to stand up. I kept my grip on his wrist and hung on as he twirled me around as if doing a ribbon routine for the Olympics.

Desperate to do any damage, I kicked and punched everywhere. I even clawed at his arm and pulled out a couple fistfuls of flesh.

"Hroaagh ghraoh!" Purple Mohawk slammed me to the ground as he tried to speak without a lower jaw. I had no idea what he was saying, but I could guess that he was angry. His hands went to my throat. Definitely angry. Shit! I tensed my neck muscles and tried to pry his hands off. He was much stronger than me. I kicked and kneed his body. He grunted as he took the hits. I might've broken a rib or two of his, but he didn't get off of me. He had a deranged look, wide, bloodshot eyes.

His jaw was beginning to reform as his blood dripped down to my face. Then I started to sink into the floor. This bastard! He was going to bury me! Without oxygen, my brain was dead. Not just my brain. I'd be fucking dead! This was the worst miscalculation of my life. Didn't help that I sucked at math. I should've just run away and left Deen behind to these freaks.

"You… look…

'retty dying." Purple Mohawk ran his tongue over his upper lip. His jawbone was reforming. I sank an inch into the ground. And then another. My hair swirled in liquid. The concrete was up to my ears, the back half of my head submerged. My neck hurt as Purple Mohawk continued to close his grip. I could barely stop him from completely suffocating me.

"You... Adu…rae 'andits," he whispered as he leaned down. His jaw clicked into place; flesh and skin crept over the bone. His regeneration was damn quick.

"Adumbrae bandit! Bothering us like blasted pests." I thought that this was the time I'd be afraid. Actual fear. I always wondered what that'd feel like. But that emotion wasn't coming. Instead, I was fucking pissed. Someone was going to kill me? No way! Rule #4: I could only bother someone if they bothered me. This was the ultimate act of bothering. Rage welled up inside me, giving me a burst of adrenaline.

With monumental effort, I pulled Purple Mohawk's fingers apart, just enough to take a deep breath, and I let go. I ignored the pain of my throat getting crushed. No more air. Waste this bastard, was the only thought in my head. I reached for Purple Mohawk's leering face and stabbed my thumbs into his eye sockets, popping his eyeballs like squished grapes. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"Aaargh!" Purple Mohawk released my throat as he reeled back.

"You little bitch! Shoot her!" I breathed. Intense pain radiated from my neck. Difficult to inhale. I sat up, pulling my head out of concrete. Clumps of my hair got left behind. Some strips of skin too. Ignoring the pain, I went after the fleeing Purple Mohawk. I had to get to him before he regenerated his eyes. Pops echoed. I instinctively covered my head with my arms. Bigsby was shooting at me with a pistol while the other goon ran to probably call for help. Sharp stinging on my arms.

No problem, so long as my head was safe. I chased after Purple Mohawk. He stopped moving. Why? I got my answer as I felt the gooey ground under my feet. The bastard liquified the floor around him.

"Come get me now, Adumbrae bandit!" Purple Mohawk shouted in my direction as he cried tears of blood. Adumbrae bandit? I didn't have time to puzzle over what he said. I was on a timer. Several seconds before he'd regain his sight. Enemy reinforcements were also coming. Should I press on? Or do I just get Deen and run? To where? I didn't fucking know where we were. And if we escaped now, Purple Mohawk and his buddies would chase us. There could be other Adumbrae here, too.

I should subtract one from that number to up our chances of surviving. I slogged onward. The longer I waited, the softer the ground would become. It was like mushing through a few feet of snow. Superstrength helped. Bigsby came closer for a better aim. A bloodied mess came out of nowhere to tackle him. Bruised Lover was up again! Amazing willpower for a squishy human. I could hear the music of victory become louder. Five heavy steps to go. Purple Mohawk's eyes weren't back yet.

"Are you getting closer, you crafty girl?" Purple Mohawk stood in the middle of the concrete mud pond. He tilted his head, listening for my approach. I wasn't exactly subtle about it, with all the sloshing sounds.

"You took me for a spin there. You were the Adumbrae we were looking for! We're going to hunt you down, you and your buddies!" I'm going to jump at him after this, I thought, taking another step with my bare foot. I had lost my sandals somewhere back in the concrete sludge. My foot went into the ground, and continued descending, and descending. This area was way more watery! My eyes widened as I toppled forward and splashed onto the floor.

"You fell for my trap, stupid girl!" Purple Mohawk celebrated. I paddled with all my might and tried to keep my head up. The ground had liquified several feet deep. It started to solidify around me, feeling like I was dunked in honey. I swam back with powerful strokes, but a hand suddenly grabbed my head. Purple Mohawk was kneeling on a solid patch of ground to my right and had reached out to stop me from surfacing.

I thrashed my arms to break the hardening concrete, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get back up. Good news—Purple Mohawk's touch couldn't turn people into sludge. Bad news—I was getting encased in concrete as if I had crossed the mob. Was this my end? Why do I get a feeling of déjà vu?

"Where are your Adumbrae friends?" Purple Mohawk said, pulling me up by my hair.

"Who sent you? Was it the fancy tin cans from San Diego?"

"Yes!" I shouted. I needed a huge discount on time so I could buy lots of it. The only way was to play along.

"They can't wait to—bllrubb." Liquid concrete got into my mouth. Or was this cement? Death was looming, and I couldn't help but puzzle over the difference between concrete and cement. I got pulled up again. Purple Mohawk screamed at me, "We don't have enemies in San Diego! You were lying again! Those tin cans, aug-addicted, enhancer-pumped muscle brains are based in Vegas! Now, tell me the truth, and I'll give you a quick death." How was I supposed to know that Vegas bullshit?

Purple Mohawk would soon realize I had no information for him. I noticed that whenever he'd pull me up, the floor became less dense. Before he could submerge me again, I forced my hands to breach the floor and reach up.

"Hah! You're not blinding me no more, little girl!" Purple Mohawk scoffed. But I wasn't aiming for his face. I grabbed his arm that was holding me, digging my fingers into his flesh until I reached bone. I thought that he was going to let go of me, but he didn't. I went under. My nose inhaled thick liquid. My eyes couldn't see anything. Muffled voices. I couldn't hear what Purple Mohawk was yelling at me. Seconds passed, and Purple Mohawk still hadn't pulled me up. He had decided to kill me.

My lungs burned and pleaded for air, but there was nothing. I could no longer move. Everything turned solid, squeezing me. I was buried alive. Oh, come on. Seriously? I was dying again? The last time was just three days ago! Ma'am Adumbrae? Are you there? I was confident the Adumbrae in my head wasn't going to let me die, not after saving me the first time. We have an actual connection now. My consciousness was starting to fade… Can't really help but be reckless?

I opened my eyes after the Adumbrae's voice entered my head.

"Jackpot! I knew you wouldn't let me down," I said. Or I think I did say. No sound left my lips. The magical outer space I had witnessed while dying inside the locker. But this time, I wasn't just having visions of this bizarre place. I was floating in this dimension, whatever… naked as the day that I was born. I flailed around, shaking my arms and legs wildly, hoping to hit anything. Nothing, no walls, no floor, no ceiling. No gravity pulling me in some direction, I had no idea of my orientation.

No breeze on my skin, no smell, no temperature that could be felt. Absolutely nothing. And… no clothes. Could this be the world of Adumbrae? Looking at the swirling colors made me dizzy. I couldn't understand the stars, the planets, the clouds of shimmering gas. This place felt wrong. And yet, also familiar. Yes, I had seen it before—I didn't mean that. It was like I had been here before.

"Are you going to help me or not?" I called to the Adumbrae.

"Don't tell me it's the 'or not' part." Was I fucking dead for real? Was the Adumbrae like the biblical devil coming to claim my soul after I had accepted its power in a Faustian trade?

"That was just three days!" I swam around in space, without really going anywhere.

"There should be a warranty on the powers or something. I got defeated easily by that ugly purple weirdo. It's unfair if you're already taking my soul. He's way stronger than me and with that special ability thing. You should give me—eh? What's that?" A strange object appeared while I was swimming through the insanity of color and darkness. An old ass stone chair. Cracked and broken into pieces, it was somehow held in place by an unseen force. One moment, the chair was empty.

The next moment, someone was sitting on it. This guy was short, and his slender figure was… familiar. He wore a black suit with intricate gold accents. Covering his left hand was an imposing, clawed gauntlet of gold, and a white fur coat rested on his shoulders. It matched his long, wispy white hair floating as if he were underwater. He hid his face behind a mask sporting a huge smile.

The mask was bisected down the middle, one side colored white and the other black, with gold designs radiating from the eye sockets. Red glowing eyes peered from behind the mask. I had seen those eyes before. This wasn't a guy.

"Ma'am Adumbrae?" I asked.

"Is this place… like the Adumbrae dimension?" No. This is our place.

"Uh, what? Do you mean that we're in my mind?" Our mind. She reached for her mask and started to remove it dramatically. Oh shit, I thought, understanding the meaning of her words and why her outline looked familiar.

"Please don't be me, please don't be me." Sorry. She removed her mask. She was me.