Day One - Part 2

[Karl Jak]

Face to Face
#22 Neal vs #45 Blackfire, #05 Gilgamesh & #33 Jon Snow

Neal limped further into the city. He hadn’t bothered to make sure he wasn’t going to get stampeded by anymore space marines, but he was certain he’d killed the guy. While the blood from the nails had dried, the fresh wounds from the bolter rifle had yet to stop free-flowing through his clothes and onto the pavement.

“This sucks,” Neal mumbled as he clutched the remnant of the Uno Shield.

“It’s about to get much worse.” A brash voice shouted as the bloodied prime spun around and ate a fist to the side of the head. Neal’s knees hit the ground, but he shoved himself forward in an attempt to create some separation between himself and Gilgamesh, who sneered as his victim scrambled toward the alley.

Before he could escape, someone sprung out from behind the building and bashed him in the face with a shovel. Neal coughed up blood and bits of teeth, but he was a man possessed by little more than adrenaline at this point. Lifting a finger, the man formed a gun and blasted the dark-haired woman away with a mind bullet. Blackfire winced as her feet left the ground and her lithe figure crashed against a fire escape ladder.

Crouching down, Neal grabbed the woman’s shovel and turned to confront the gilded monarch with the wild blonde hair and the sinister gaze.

“You would strike me down with a shovel, Peasant?” Gilgamesh sneered as he clenched and unclenched his fists. “I find your gall amusing.”

“Well it’s got this little sharp part here,” Neal replied as he gestured toward the serrated edge of the survival shovel. “I bet that’ll make a big mess when I use it to tear your throat open.”

“I find that vermin always fight the most when they’re about to be exterminated,” Gilgamesh roared as he rushed forward and threw another punch at the bloody, resilient prime. Although he lacked the finesse of some of the other combat-trained primes, Neal had enough common sense to stumble backwards to avoid the king’s right cross. Having avoiding broken face bones for the time being, the man stepped forward and swung the shovel like a baseball bat at the side of Gilgamesh’ face.

The distinct thwack that the survival tool made as it bashed against the king’s head was loud enough to be heard by a semi-conscious Blackfire ten yards removed from the scene of the skirmish.

“How’s that feel?” Neal shouted as he swung the hammer back over his own head and readied to bring the serrated edge crashing down onto Gilgamesh’s cranium.

Before he could bring the weapon down, the prime saw a flash of black from the corner of his eye. A beat later, there was an arrow embedded in his right lung. As Neal watched, more of his blood started to squirt out from the sides of the metal shaft impaled through his body. His arms dropped down to his sides, but he managed to somehow hold onto the shovel, even though it now felt like it weight a hundred pounds.

“That looks like it hurts,” Gilgamesh remarked as he grabbed the arrow and ripped it out from Neal’s body. As the serrated tip emerged from a now enlarged wound, fresh blood started to bubble and spew forth. “Oh yes… this looks like hurt!” Gilgamesh punctuated the insult by stabbing the arrow through Neal’s other lung. The prime teetered but refused to go down. His half-glazed eyes tried their hardest to burn holes through Gilgamesh. “It’s better if you accept it.”

“Fuck you.” With a grunt, Neal summoned up a mouthful of saliva and spit it into the face of the king with every ounce of defiance his spent body could muster. Gilgamesh recoiled and let loose a string of obscenities as a weak smile spread across the face of the dying prime.

A beat later, a second arrow punched through Neal’s forehead.

From his vantage point, Jon Snow let out a sigh as he watched the corpse crumple into a heap in front of his king.

[spoiler]

#22 Neal DEAD
39 Primes Remain

Blackfire has a cracked vertebra -- Minor Injury (+4 Damage)
Gilgamesh has a bruised f*cking face -- Minor Injury (+1 Damage)

The Uno Cards are done.[/spoiler]