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CH 35: Shrimp
🕑 Added 2024-11-21 17:45:27 +0000 UTC\.,., Bertrand ,.,./
Bertrand stood next to Sanctuary's beacon, and shook in his shoes.
Today had started so wonderful.
The scouting mission to find Sanctuary's beacon had gone flawlessly, and the capture of the two buffoons on the wall was laughably easy. But then his skill - his divine gift - had glitched.
Bertrand rubbed his face and his eye where his own knife had wounded him. It was healed now, but the pain and shock were still fresh. That kid - that stupid fucking kid - had lied to Bertrand, slipped out of his skill somehow, and wounded him! He deserved to die screaming - but Bertrand would never get the chance to see that happen. Instead, one of Bertrand's riflemen did the work for him. He'd assumed the boy's very public, very loud end would've kicked off a difficult battle that would make it impossible to pass his kill-restricted conquer quest. But he'd been so wonderfully wrong.
Instead of kicking off a fight, the boy's death started a full retreat. Bertrand couldn't believe his luck. With the residents gone, he was all but guaranteed to complete the quest and move on to the next challenge before him. He watched the people run with a smile on his face. The cowards hadn't even left traps for his men to stumble into. It felt like the work of a divine hand. It felt good. It confirmed Bertrand's knowledge that he was destined to conquer and control the Earth.
He'd started the takeover and gleefully watched the timer tick down.
But the timer had stopped.
Bertrand saw his losses rise, and had flown back to the tent with his most trusted bodyguard to investigate.
And that's when his skill failed for the second time. The fucking brute, of all people, had resisted Bertrand's skill in a supremely unnatural way. And he'd done it so completely that Bertrand was physically hurt when he tried to apply control to the man.
One failure could be a glitch. It could be a fluke or a flaw. Twice was a pattern. It was weakness.
So Bertrand had made the very wise decision to get the hell away from the man. He'd even told some of his men to ready themselves for a fight as he ran past.
When he reached the beacon, he strategized. Things could've played out a few different ways. His forces could kill the brute, or capture him - which would lead to the brute's death, in either case. They might run him off into the woods like they'd run off the other residents, which was fine. Or they would fail, and the brute would make his way to Bertrand. If that happened? Bertrand had his sense of timing, and a lifetime of dealmaking to put things in his favor. Even if the man was a brute, Bertrand would find a way to reason and deal with him. He just needed to feel that the time was right.
When the roar echoed out, he started to question his intuition. But it still told Bertrand he shouldn't run - so he stood his ground. He'd called every man inside the walls to him, and they made up a set of defensive groups ready to kill a brute.
They weren't ready for a monster.
Another agonized scream pierced the air. It lasted a full five seconds, then abruptly ceased. The screaming man's legless corpse smashed through a pop-up camper and sailed through the air for a good thirty feet. It landed with a sick thud.
Bertrand worked to calm himself. It wasn't time. It wasn't time to run, so they needed to stay and defend. If it wasn't the right time to run, they had to stay and fight.
One of his men broke ranks and tried to flee. Bertrand reached out with his skill and took control of the coward. He forced the man to stuff a pistol into his mouth, then pulled the trigger. His people needed a reminder that Bertrand was in charge.
"Try to run, and I'll kill you myself!" He shouted. "It's one man! You can kill one man!"
Bertrand doubted his words.
A hail of gunfire peppered the monster's body. A dozen small cuts and punctures were visible on his exposed skin. He was in the tattered, filthy remnants of a shirt and pants. One foot was bare, and the other rested in a blood-soaked boot that squelched with every step. He held a sword in his left hand that was dripping - the red liquid fell to the ground with soft plops. The knuckles on his right hand were raw - and one shone white where skin had worn away to show the bone.
The monster's eyes blazed red with fury.
It rushed forward into a small group, and sunk its hand into a man's abdomen. The man screamed as the monster tore out one of his ribs, then stabbed him in the throat with it. Another was grabbed by the skull - and the monster killed them by slowly shoving its sword into their ear. The third man died when the monster ripped off his lower jaw. The fourth was dragged off the ground by an arm, and spun over the monster's head. It flung him at another of Bertrand's men, and the two deformed into each other with a series of sickening crunches. The monster snapped the femur of the fifth, and pulled the sharded bone out of the man's leg - then stuffed it down his throat.
It was a level of depraved violence beyond what Bertrand and his men had done. And it was drawing closer. Bertrand watched the counter for his forces tick down.
21
The monster ran two men through the abdomen with its sword, then crushed their skulls against each other.
19
A mage wielding stone bullets drew the monster's attention. It picked a small boulder off the ground and hurled it at the mage's group. They turned to paste.
15
The monster put the flat of his hand into a man's chest, and pulled out his heart.
14
A man's head was torn off his shoulders.
13
The monster knocked a man to the ground, then ground his heel into their throat until it collapsed.
12
The top half of a torso fell to the ground, split by the heinous bone sword.
11
The monster grabbed a man's hand and forced the shotgun he held up to his chin - then squeezed the trigger.
10
A trio of men were smashed open like piñatas on the blunt side of the monster's weapon.
7
His final five defenders - he wasn't sure where the other last man was - charged forward. Or, rather, he made one of the defenders charge forward, and the others followed. The monster shrugged off most of their attacks, then roared and sent a kick towards the closest man. The monster's foot snapped through a man's femur. As he dropped to the ground screaming, the monster stomped in his chest.
6
The monster flipped its blade upside down, stabbed another man through the center of the abdomen, then lifted him. The man screamed as the force of gravity slowly drew him down into the sword - and split his upper body in half.
5
A man with all his points in dexterity seemed to almost blur around the monster. He dealt shallow, small cuts to multiple parts of the monster's body as he slipped out and away from every blow the monster tried to land. Things seemed to turn in their favor. It wasn't much damage, but if the man could just keep going, they could win the fight.
The change in the fight seemed to spur the other final two men to action. One got in close, struck one, and was grabbed by the hair on the back of his head. The man's screams rose in pitch as he was lifted off the ground. The monster dropped its weapon and put its other hand underneath the man's chin, then squeezed. The screaming muffled even as it became more desperate, then the man's jaw shattered. Bone fractured and pushed itself out the sides of the man's cheeks, and he struggled ineffectively to get away. The screaming was inhuman, muffled - and ended when the monster finally pushed its hand up into the man's skull.
4
The monster looked at its hands, full of bits of brain, and shook them clean. Gore spattered over the ground - and Bertrand's two remaining men.
The nimble one got the worst of it. A thick piece of grey matter splattered over his eyes - and left him stationary just long enough for the monster to reach him. It grabbed the man's upper arm - then put its other hand on the man's forearm and pulled in two different directions. The nimble man lashed out with free hand - strikes were wild and desperate as his arm was pulled off at the elbow. The monster's grip shifted to the man's other shoulder and arm. It ripped away from the socket in a messy, tangled tear. The man was crying now - something about his mother and god. The monster wound back, and slammed the man's own severed arm into his skull.
3
The final living defender was one that had put all his points into constitution. If anyone could survive the monster, it would be him.
But instead of standing his ground, the man tried to run.
He didn't outrun the monster.
It tackled the man to the ground, then tried to tear the man's arm off. Tried - and failed. The monster let out a frustrated roar, and punched the man in the back of the head. Blows landed like wrecking balls. The man on the ground bled - but he wasn't dying. The monster huffed and stared at the man for a moment, then acted. It shoved two fingers into the man's eye socket, then rotated its hand. The man shrieked and convulsed wildly as the monster fished around in his head like it was a pickle jar. It was an agonizing forty seconds before he stilled.
2
Why? Why did it still not feel like the right time to run? Was there still a chance to bargain? Could he still turn things in his favor and claim Sanctuary's beacon?
The monster turned to Bertrand.
--
+ Reid +
Flashes of violence occurred at the edge of Reid's awareness. Torn limbs and cracked skulls flitted in and out like shadows. He let the display of violence continue, and held himself contented in the waves. He waited there - until one flash was recognizable. One death that he didn't want to just let happen. One bit of violent vengeance that he needed to steer.
Reid forced himself out of the waves and back in conscious control over his body. Anger still boiled in his gut. He surveyed his surroundings.
The surrounding area looked like a horror film. Limbs and heads littered the ground. Crushed and torn bodies told a simple story of incredible violence.
Reid stood less than twenty feet from Sanctuary's beacon. Bertrand was on the ground in front of him, shouting.
"STOP! STOP! I'll leave - let me leave and I won't come back! I... You - You can hear me now, can't you!? I promise I'll leave. I'll give you whatever you want. Do you want cars? I have cars. I can give you women - or men - or children! Do you want money? Gold? Everyone wants money. Just let me go, and you can have all of that!"
Reid crouched down. Bertrand's left arm was bent in four places, and his right was folded back in on itself in a decidedly unnatural way. One of his legs was twisted at the knee so his toes pointed backwards. His armor was dented in a few places, and Reid's sword pinned him to the ground through his abdomen.
There was fear in Bertrand's eyes, and pain. But there was also defiance. Hope. Haughtiness. Bertrand looked like he knew he would get out of the situation somehow. Like he expected to get one over on Reid, now or later.
Reid's breaths were heavy and heaving. His muscles ached, and his body sported a wealth of new, small wounds. As Bertrand pleaded, a molten ball of hatred spun in Reid's gut. Bertrand needed to suffer - he needed to experience more than pain. Reid wanted to make the man despair. He deserved to lose all his hope and defiance. That would be justice.
An idea formed, and Reid turned towards the gate. His face twisted in a closed-lipped grimace, and he pulled his sword out of Bertrand's abdomen.
"I'm going to break you." Reid growled. "Not your arms, not your legs, not your ribs. I'm going to break YOU." Bertrand started to open his mouth, but stopped when Reid pointed a finger at him. "No offers. No deals. You killed Louis. He was getting BETTER, and you fucking killed him. A kid, full of potential and warmth and light, and you fucking killed him! You put me in a fucking cage! You don't get to go anywhere, and you don't get to die until I decide I'm done with you!"
Bertrand screamed as Reid dragged him through the dirt.
By the time they'd reached the front gate, Bertrand had passed out from his injuries. Reid left Bertrand inside the walls, and made his way over to where the still-wounded healer was desperately trying to fix his legs. His jaw was a mottled pinkish-red, and he was missing most teeth on the right side of his mouth. Reid watched a pellet pop out of the man's skin as a small hole closed in his leg. When he looked up and saw Reid, the man froze.
Reid frowned, then spoke. "Don't heal that leg, or I'll snap it. I have work for you to do, and I can't have you wandering off."
Reid dragged the healer inside the gate to where he'd left Bertrand, and threw him down on the ground.
"Heal this piece of filth. Everything but the arms."
#
An hour later, Reid held Bertrand by the collar, and once again slammed a fist into the armor over his abdomen. It dented and deformed with each blow, and the man grunted and groaned with every impact. Reid had been talking between punches for a while now. He told Bertrand what a piece of shit he was. He told him what a mistake it had been to hurt Louis. Reid rambled on as his fists swelled and his arms grew even more sore.
"And so because of you, our last conversation was about shrimp. They really are amazing, you sick fuck. Do you want to know why?"
A blow put another dent in Bertrand's armor.
"The pistol shrimp can shoot water out of its hands."
He struck Bertrand again.
"And the Mantis Shrimp-"
Bertrand tried to raise a broken arm to block the next blow. Reid batted it away, then slapped Bertrand in the head.
"Is even better."
Reid grabbed Bertrand's more-intact elbow, and squeezed. He felt flesh and bone starting to condense and deform as he focused his power into crushing the joint.
"It has this special horseshoe elbow, that it can use to-"
Bertrand screamed as the bones in his elbow fractured and the skin tore. Reid slapped him in the face again.
"Don't interrupt me. It can use it to punch as fast as a speeding-" He sent another blow into Bertrand's stomach. "Bullet!".
Reid frowned. Even after multiple cycles of abuse and healing, Bertrand seemed like he was holding onto some sort of hope. Still looked like he knew that if he just waited long enough, he would be able to convince Reid to let him go. Reid stopped hitting Bertrand for a full two minutes while he thought of what to do next - and then he smiled.
He'd finally figured out something important. Reid had figured out how Bertrand was going to die.
He took in Bertrand's state. The man took the reprieve as a chance to make deals, and was sputtering out some dumb offer. His armor looked like a piece of modern art. His nose was broken again, and blood leaked from the corner of his mouth.
The healer was in better shape, but not by much. Reid had forced him to overuse his skill - and the man looked sickly pale. He'd gotten just a bit worse after every round of healing done to Bertrand, but Reid was certain he could keep going - at least long enough for Bertrand's final rounds of suffering. He walked over and grabbed the man by the shirt, and dragged the two behind him. Bertrand stopped his pleading.
"Come on. We're taking a walk."
After a minute of walking in silence, Reid smiled, and turned to talk to Bertrand.
"Time for a quiz, Bertrand - what can the Pistol Shrimp and the Mantis Shrimp both do? I'll even give you a hint - it's something that doesn't apply to you. And! It's not about punching. That would be too obvious."
Reid twisted around to see the man. "Come on, take a guess. You have until we stop to figure it out."
Reid said nothing else for the next few minutes as he dragged Bertrand and the healer behind him. Bertrand didn't try to answer the question. Instead, he started pleading again for Reid to let him go. Reid never upped his pace from a slow walk. This felt good, and he wanted to savor it.
When Reid's bare foot touched sand, he stopped and tossed the healer forwards onto the beach. Reid hauled Bertrand up in the air, and held him close. He stared into Bertrand's eyes. There was regret, confusion, and still a flicker of hope and defiance.
"Time's up! Now, let's hear the answer - what can the Mantis shrimp and the Pistol shrimp do that you can't?"
Reid turned Bertrand around so he could see the lake.
"They can both breathe underwater."
#
Reid held Bertrand by the neck, and slowly lowered the thrashing man into the cool water. He'd only walked out far enough this time for the water to rise to his calves. Water splashed up onto Reid's shirt. Some hit him in the face - but he kept his grip tight as water churned and air escaped from Bertrand's lungs. The man tried to push himself off the sand, or kick himself up and out of Reid's grasp, but he held firm.
After a time, Bertrand stopped actively fighting and seemed to seize up, muscles twitching, then started to go limp. Reid hauled him up out of the water and back to shore. He laid the man down on his back, and slapped the healer awake.
"Do it again."
Light flared, and after a few moments, Bertrand coughed up water and sucked in air. The healer fell back to the ground - he was almost out of steam, which meant Reid needed to make the next drownings count.
Reid waited for Bertrand to finish coughing up water and for him to breathe normally, then grabbed Bertrand by his collar and dragged him back towards the water. The first time he'd drowned, Bertrand still had defiance in his eyes. The second time Reid dragged him out to the water, there was still hopeful desperation. Now, both the defiance and the hope seemed entirely gone. Reid smiled.
Bertrand screamed and sobbed. "I'll give it to you! I'll give you everything! You can have it! I'll transfer it over now! See? Here! You have my entire empire! Control of all my territory! Bertland belongs to Sanctuary now! So stop - just stop, please, just let me go! You have everything I can possibly give you! Just, please, oh god please let me g-ouaghshbulgurngb"
Reid shoved Bertrand back into the water - face up this time. When Reid dragged Bertrand's limp body back onto the beach, the healer took two slaps to awaken. "I... I think this is the last time I can bring him back. It k-keeps getting h-harder."
Reid's face set into a flat line, and he nodded. "That's fine."
When Bertrand was done sputtering, Reid crouched down, and looked into the man's eyes. There was no flicker of hope. Just fear... and despair. Reid stood, and slowly dragged Bertrand back towards the water. The man whimpered. He didn't plead.
"Here's your final fun fact, Bertrand." Reid half shouted.
He stopped in the shallows, got down on his knees, and brought Bertrand's face to his own. His words were flat.
"Shrimp nest in the mud."
Reid gripped the man's neck like iron, and shoved his face into the silt.
Bertrand thrashed violently. Mud flew as he tried to claw it away from his face with broken arms. Every time he dug more out, Reid pushed him further down.
Bertrand's entire body spasmed and shook - only his head was stationary in Reid's grip. Limbs flailed wildly, then less wildly. They twitched, and stilled.
Reid held Bertrand's face down in the mud long after the man had stopped twitching. He kept holding it there, until his hands were pruny and the churned mud settled back down in the water.
Reid had expected to feel some measure of peace. He'd wanted to feel good. Just. Like he'd balanced the scales. In the act, Reid felt right and righteous - content in Bertrand's suffering and his own escalating violence.
But now, he didn't really feel anything - no, that wasn't quite right. Reid felt... hollow. He felt adrift. He looked over at Sanctuary. The roof of the Rec hall peeked out from above a line of trees. He realized he hadn't even stopped there to look for Susan - neither on his rampage, nor after. Why hadn't he done that? His mind wandered. Why hadn't he spent more time with Louis?
There was so much he hadn't done.... and so much he couldn't do. He could never hear another animal fact from Louis. He'd never tell the boy another story from his youth. Louis wouldn't ever get any better mentally. He wouldn't face the shadows hiding in the corner of his mind. He wouldn't do anything at all. There was so much.... wrong, with that. And there was nothing Reid could do about it.
But there was something he could still do for the boy.
With a long, shuddering breath, Reid stood. He threw Bertrand's dead body onto the beach, and stared down at it.
"You don't deserve a grave." Reid said. He stepped on Bertrand with his right foot as he walked over to the healer, leaving a muddy footprint on the dented armor.
"But Louis does."
