Day 4 - The Gunsmith's Gamble

[Corporal Light]

Roughly one hour later

“We getting close?”

“Should be. It's just over this hill.”

“Got it...” Ballad replied, bringing his arms forwards and backwards as they trudged up the green hill. They had exited the forest some time previously, and had since been traversing long, flat landscapes and the occasional hillside. Immy was leading the way forward, her feet gliding up the hill as she ran forward, filled to the brim with energy. The sun shone down the valley, the grass sparkling as the sun's rays reflected off the dew formed by the rain. Also did a good job of drying off the duo's clothing as well, as Immy's short hair was no longer matted down onto her face. Instead, it was spiked up towards the back, with the front split to both sides of her head. Meanwhile, the gunner himself did not feel very wet, mostly thanks to his overcoat, though his face felt unnaturally damp as he wiped some moisture off of it. He continued to walk forward, eventually reaching the top of the hill.

“Here it is... want to walk up to it? Get a closer look?”

Ballad squinted, the sunlight shining into his eyes, preventing a good look. “That might be preferable.” He replied as they ran down the hill, with the girl making some odd, reverberating noise which captured a laugh from the gunsmith. His boots caught themselves against the ground as he slowed down to a walk at the bottom of the hill, no longer afflicted by the sunlight. The two of them walk forward, gazing at the village in front of them.

It did not look like a village. It looked like a fortress.

It was composed of around seven buildings, all of which were around the same height and had hay for their roofs. From around twenty feet away, the stronghold appeared to be massive, easily bigger than any normal village. What was perhaps most impressive, however, was the wall around it. It was large, with tall, pointy wooden sticks that prevented anyone from just climbing over it. In front of him was a metal gate around forty feet wide and more than fifteen feet tall. The gate had an innumerable number of small, square holes all over it that provided a short glance inside, though not enough to give Ballad any reliable details of the buildings inside. It had two chains connected to the ground via spikes from the outside, which apparently served as a way to pull it down. The soldier smiled behind his red scarf, looking towards Immy, who had moved behind him as if to allow him a full view of it. He brought his arms up to his chest, nodding appreciatively.

“This... this'll do.”

“You like it?” Immy said, giggling a bit.

“Yes I do. Only question though... how do I get in?” He asked, somewhat confused. He didn't see any outside lever (which was to be expected for a gate like this.) nor a real way inside. What he did see, however, was some shadows on the other side of the gate. Several normal sized ones, but one that was huge. It towered over the others, and appeared to be the size of a wrecking ball. They were moving forward towards the gate from the inside of the fort. The gunner frowned, starting to back up, only to run into the girl behind him. He was about to tell her to watch what she was doing when he glanced down towards his throat, the glint of light shining off the small, metal ice-pick jammed near his throat. He suddenly felt his right hand get forced behind him, yelping in shock as he heard an almost completely different voice erupt behind him. It was no longer cute, or naive, or even energetic. It was slow, it was cold, and it had a hint of arrogance to it.

“Don't worry, Ballad. We have that taken care of for you...” Immy responded, smiling as the gate started to lower.

---------------

The gate slammed into the ground with a thunderous slam, followed by the loud clanging of boots on wood as the shadows marched forward in a long battle line. As they walked into the sunlight, their features became ever more apparent. The line consisted of around seven assailants, most dressed in traditionally peasant-like garb with varying colors. It was the one in the middle of them all that stood out. He was gigantic, if not thanks to the bulging muscles on his arms and chest, which was bare for him to see. His face was covered by what looked to be a gas mask that stabbed itself into his face, while his eyes were small yet green. His head was spiked into a black mohawk, giving him the appearance, to Ballad anyway, of a dumb brute. This was certainly helped by the fact that his hands were covered in what appeared to be metal boxing gloves, which was confirmed when the man slammed them together, roaring like a bear that tore through the area around them just as easily as the clanging of metal did.

“BALLAD!” He shouted menacingly, which sent a chill down his spine. He then remembered the fact that he was basically being held as a hostage by the one person whom had been helping him this entire time, and he went into shock again. He took in a deep breath, speaking softly and in complete disbelief.

“What are you doing, Immy?! These are the same guys who are trying to kill me!”

“Why the heck do you think I've put up with you this long, Ballad? Hmm?” She replied, cocking an eyebrow in his direction.

The sharpshooter's frown returned, his eyes glow disappearing as he meekly replied “You mean...”

“It should've been obvious, greenie. Why else would I have known you were at the Unknown Village? Given your VASTLY superior intelligence, you should've figured that out.” She jeered, her words tainted with sarcasm that the gunner couldn't believe could've come from a teenager like this.

And dammit, she was right. How had he not picked that up? And now that he thought about it, her running into him back at the cave didn't seem like an accident. And maybe those bandits actually didn't find him by themselves.

Maybe they had waited.

He had to see how deep this rabbit hole went. It just wasn't possible he had been played the fool this entire time. He turned his head to his right, glaring devilishly at her as he spoke again.

“So... all that.. all that crap you said to me was a LIE?” He almost raised his voice to a shout, but all he needed was the cold feeling of metal touching his adams apple to remind him of his predicament.

“Why should I tell you anything? I'm the one with the power, therefore I'm the one who asks questions.”

The gunman's left fist clenched, grinding his teeth together as he tried his best to keep his cool.

“Because my last request is to know why the fuck the person who has my family photo on her chest is the same one who has a weapon to my throat!” He explained, his tone exasperated, and he almost growled.

Immy scoffed, closing her eyes for a split second as she shrugged, reopening them to explain herself. “First off, no. Not everything I said was a lie, Ballad. All the parts about the bandits were true. Everything else? All fake. Like this photo of yours.” She gestured towards her breast, where the photograph had been clipped into her fur coat.

The last sentence caused the gunsmith to pause, stunned at what had been said. This was quickly replaced with anger, glaring murderously at the traitor behind him as the battle line started to move towards them.

“What?” He said, his eyes starting to glow a bit.

“You had me fooled for a second, greenie, but I'm an actor myself. Do you expect me to believe that you were born into a loving, caring family like that? Really? Would a loving mom and dad EVER raise someone like you? A COLD-BLOODED MURDERER?!” She shouted, her face burning bright red as she glowered at him.

“So yes, I'm with the bandits. But honestly, after seeing the things YOU'VE DONE?! We aren't the bad guys here, prime. We only hunt the bad people. The ones who get themselves into these situations, and even then the vast majority of them were only in it because they didn't understand what exactly they were doing. But YOU? All you've seemed to do since you got here was KILL PEOPLE!”

“It was just-”

“There is NO EXCUSE, Ballad. Those stormtroopers back at the Nexus? What did they do, huh? What about La'Seer? Why did you start yelling at him? All they did was ask you questions!”

“Why should I ge-”

“And let's not forget one more thing, killer. All those civilians back at the village? Those dozen men, women, and CHILDREN that got torn to pieces? Who's fault is that?”

“It isn't-”

“YES IT IS! Face it, Ballad! YOU tossed that bomb. YOU killed those people, along with everybody else! EVERY DEATH YOU'VE HAD SOMETHING TO DO WITH IS YOUR FAULT!”

Immy took in a large breath, her rant over. She noticed Ballad was shaking, and his head was looking down towards the ground. His left arm was still down near his side, and his was as a silent as a statue. By that time, Moe and his men were just seven feet away from the two, and they too had noticed that their quarry was acting strangely. Moe held his hands out, keeping them from drawing any closer.

“So just face facts, Ballad. If you hadn't come here; if you hadn't killed those people, MANY others would still be alive! If it wasn't because of YOU, so many families wouldn't be torn apart, crying for their lost family members.”

“But now it's over, Ballad. You might as well just accept it. Just accept the inevitable, and stop being a cowar-”

The pickaxeman's left hand shot up towards the edge of her ice pick, ripping it straight out of her hands. Before she could even let out a shout of surprise, he swung around, stabbing the end of it into her chest, right where the photo was. It covered up the head of the child on the photograph as blood oozed out of the wound. Immy's eyes bulged out of her sockets, letting out a gasp as her grip on the gunner started to weaken. She peered up at him, seeing his bisque eyes glowing almost as bright as the sun itself, but within the middle were pin-prick size black dots. His pupils, staring barbarically into her.

“I did not kill them...” He whispered, letting go of the ice pick before pushing the now dead girl forward. She landed on the ground with a thud, the photo covered in crimson liquid gushing from her wound. The man whirled around, reaching for his pickaxe as the people around him started to pause. What followed next could've been nothing short of a chaotic skirmish; it all started with just one sentence.

“I DID NOT KILL THEM!”

-----------------

Those words rang out around the vale, briefly stunning the attackers surrounding him. He was outnumbered, but he no longer gave a shit. The nagging insect in his head had won over. The one thing he had to do was just kill. Kill everyone.

He charged forward, recklessly slamming himself into the half-circle line that had formed. He swung his pickaxe in a deadly arc, catching one man in the head, cracking his skull. He quickly whirled around, jamming the sharp end of his weapon into another patrician's chest. His screams were long and loud as blood squirted out, flowing faster once Ballad pulled his weapon out, holding it ready to face the others.

By that point, the five remaining bandits had gotten out of their state of surprise and were charging him, with the big brute leading it. He quickly slammed his weapon in an overhead, catching the big guy in the back, though not before he barreled straight into him. They both landed onto the ground, Moe lifting his hands up into the air and bringing it down onto the green man's face. The giant metal gloves pounded into his skull, instantly knocking out some teeth within his mouth. Ballad roared as he lifted his left arm, popping out his single shot, before squeezing the trigger. Smoke exhaled out the barrel as Moe went flying off of him, landing flat on his back.

Ballad lifted himself up onto the ground, pulling out his revolver as a trio of bandits closed in on him. Swords and axes hanged high in the air as the gunner pulled back the hammer of his gun, firing into the trio. As one fell, he shot twice more, causing yelps of pain as his bullets lodged themselves into various vital parts of their bodies.

“Fucking bandits! This is what you're ALL GONNA GET, you hear me?! ALL OF YOU!” He screamed as he turned towards Moe, who had just started to get up. He was charging back at him, his arms outstretched to his side as if he was a trying to bear hug him.

“KILLER! FIEND! I'LL KILL YOU!” He bellowed, descending upon him.

The gunsmith quickly adjusted his aim, firing thrice towards the behemoth. Each bullet crashed into his torso, causing Moe to scream in pain as he fell forward, just short of touching his target.

Ballad let in short, ragged breathes as he whirled to his right, sliding six bullets into the chamber of his gun before pointing it at the remaining army in front of him. He began to taunt them; to everyone around him, he sounded like he had officially lost his mind. Without any doubt in the world.

"Come on, you fuckers! You ain't hurting nobody no more! I won't allow it! I won't allow any more fucking crazy people to-”

He felt his legs crumble beneath him as a metal fist smashed into his knees, sending him toppling forward. Before he could so much as lift a finger, his back was in intense pain. He yelled out in agony as he heard a voice ring through his ears.

“YOU THINK I DIE SO EASILY, EXECUTIONER?” He shrieked, stomping down onto his target's head several times.

For what felt like ages, Ballads entire body felt like it was being picked apart by vultures. Like they were all gnawing at his innards and bones and every wound he had suffered reopened and started cracking BONE. He could do nothing but take it as his eyesight started to fade away. As his jaw seemed to almost snap completely off of him. As his left arm went limp and sent an earth-shattering scream out from within him. It was the only thing he could feel before his vision started to go completely dark.

All he saw next was a black, metal boot. It was too small to belong to a brute.