Chapter 9: Red and Rage Rematch

Photo credit: Owlpacino (Flickr.com creative commons license)

Guess who’s back! Back again! Rising Legend’s back! Tell your friends! 

Joking aside, welcome back to another exciting chapter! We’ll be treading some old ground here, but no two fights ever end the same way in this game. I hope everyone’s as excited as I am! The fights are really gonna kick off here, so do enjoy! 

As always, this chapter is rated 16+ for violence and language. Discretion is advised, and enjoy! 

Iris stared at Marian and Alan. The pair sat across from her, Marian’s eyes downcast. Houdini leaned on the wall, waiting for the awkward silence to break. Iris sipped her coffee, staring at the pair sitting across from her. 

“Where’s Robin?” she asked, finally breaking the silence. Marian looked away uncomfortably.

“I…” she started, fighting back tears. She’d lost more than just her Hero. She’d lost a friend. Iris sighed softly. 

“Don’t bother,” she said, standing up. The door opened, and Hunter stepped in. He held a small box of muffins, and he handed one to Iris. Little Red took one and hopped into a chair, devouring the treat. 

“What’s going on?” he asked. 

“Woods lost Robin,” Iris said. 

“Damn it,” he sighed. “I’ll update my chart.” 

“You do that,” Iris said, biting into her muffin. She kept staring at Marian, though her gaze drifted to Alan. 

“Who are you, exactly?” she asked, looking at the burglar. 

“Alan Keyes,” he introduced himself with a smile. “I see the two of you have been busy.” 

“You’re a player too,” Iris observed. 

“Correct. Houdini, say hello,” he said. Houdini bowed. 

“Hello, ladies,” he said with a charming smile. 

“I know you,” Marian said. “You're that burglar who walked out of the prison.” 

“I can neither confirm nor deny,” Alan said, though his smirk told all. 

“I should arrest you right here and now,” Marian growled. Hunter stepped between them.

“Enough,” he ordered. Marian stepped back, surprised by his audacity. 

“Excuse me?” She asked indignantly. 

“We need him,” Hunter said plainly. “We're low on allies as it is, we can't afford to make another enemy.” 

“Fine,” Marian finally relented. She hated to admit it, but Hunter was making sense. 

“Sorry to tell you this, Hunter,” Alan said. “But if you plan on winning this tournament, that makes us enemies by default.” 

“I don't plan on winning the tournament,” Hunter replied. “I want to put a stop to Cal, and I need my Heroes to do that.” 

“Then, the enemy of my enemy,” Alan said with a smile. “Is my friend.” 

Little Red stared up at the ceiling as the adults talked. She'd counted the spots in the tiles a hundred times. Grown-ups sure did love the sound of their own voice. She got out of her seat and snuck away, walking through the echoing halls of the hospital. She made her way to Grenda’s room and peeked through the door. She was sleeping… that's no fun. She pouted, but quietly shut the door. It only made sense. She was recovering from a mortal wound, after all. Little Red continued her walk, occasionally looking around. She saw the vending machine and peered at the muffins inside. They looked so tasty… and hid behind such fragile glass. She pressed her hands as she looked at the sweets within, drooling over all the flavors. Then, she saw an eye reflected back at her. The glass cracked, and Red leapt back. She raised her tiny fists, then took off running down the halls. She ran back into the room and tugged on Hunter's shirt. 

Hunter heard the door open and glanced at the girl tugging on his shirt. Her eyes were wide and desperate, he'd never seen Little Red so afraid before. 

“What is it?” He asked, hugging her gently. 

“I saw a monster!” She said, her hands shaking. 

“Where?” He asked. 

“In the glass!” she said, looking up at Hunter. He frowned as he hugged her.

“Bloody Mary,” Marian said. She stood up and reached for her Taser. 

“Everyone on alert!” Iris stood, calling out Medusa and Alice. 

“Don't you think you're overreacting?” Hunter asked, pressed between three Heroes. Marian and Iris stared at him. 

“The way I see it, there's three options,” Iris said. “One, Mystery Girl is dead, and Cal has Bloody Mary.” 

“Two, Mystery Girl is alive, and she's scouting us out to try and take our heroes,” Marian added, seeing where Iris was going with this. 

“Or three, she’s teamed up with Cal and is working with him,” Iris finished. Marian shuddered at the thought. Hunter looked out the window, trying to see a trace of any Players outside. He sent out Wukong, who sat on his cloud and stretched. 

“Sun, scout the place out,” he ordered. “Look for other Players and their Heroes, then report back.” 

“Should I grab some coffee while I’m out?” Sun offered, grinning a mischievous grin. Hunter crossed his arms and stared at his Hero. The monkey king flew off, howling with laughter as he circled the hospital from above. Hunter sighed. Marian pulled out her phone and dialed a number. 

Flannigan and Flaherty stared at the destroyed police cruiser. They sipped their coffee in long, alternating sips. Flaherty finally sighed. 

“What do you think?” he asked his comrade. Flannigan stared at the destroyed car, furrowing his brow. 

“I think I don’t know what the hell is going on in this city anymore,” he said. “Between localized earthquakes, whatever happened in the city center to break all those windows, and a killer with a sword? This town’s turning into a jungle.” 

“Retirement can’t come soon enough,” Flaherty agreed. His phone rang, and he pulled it from his pocket. He answered the call, talking with the other end. Each word made him crease his brow further, and he sipped his coffee thoughtfully. Finally, he hung up and started to dial. 

“Who was that?” Flannigan asked. 

“Woods,” Flaherty answered as he prepared to make another call. “She’s at the hospital.” 

“Is she okay?” Flannigan asked, his face softening. 

“Don’t know,” said Flaherty. He pressed the call button and waited for the ringer. “We’re gonna find out, but I gotta make a call first.”

Marian hung up her phone. She tucked it away and shut the door. Then she took a blanket and covered the bathroom mirror, and finally drew the drapes. Iris looked at her, concerned. 

“No reflective surfaces,” Marian ordered. “And nobody say her name, either. We’re not taking any chances.” 

“Got it,” Iris said. She looked to Hunter. Hunter nodded back. The window opened, and Sun poked his head through. 

“I saw a Player, but she was leaving,” he reported. Hunter nodded and pulled him inside. Marian looked at Hunter. 

“What's the word?” She asked, the presence of a full-fledged Hero making her skin crawl. 

“Right, you can't see him,” he said as Sun took a peach off the table. The Monkey King started to eat with a grin. 

“He says we should be good,” Iris said. “For now.” 

“Good,” Marian said. She glared at Alan. She was grateful to him for saving her life, but the tension between them was palpable. Alan felt it too, and he stood up. 

“If you don't mind, I'll be heading out,” he said with a smirk. “Just need some fresh air.” 

“Thanks for all your help,” Hunter said gratefully. Alan smirked and shook his hand. 

“Don't be a stranger,” he said, before Houdini grabbed his shoulder. The pair disappeared. Hunter glanced at his palm, where Alan had slipped a folded piece of paper. He tucked it into his pocket before Marian could see. Marian grit her teeth. 

“That slippery little weasel,” she muttered. 

—

The long-haired woman looked at her fractured compact mirror. She fixed her eyeliner as the world moved around her. Then she heard the whispers as a figure appeared in the mirror. 

“What's the news?” She asked, and the ghostly woman whispered in her ear. She chuckled lightly. 

“Three Players in one place? Do you think they're teaming up?” she asked as she started to walk. The ghostly girl whispered in her ear again. The girl laughed. 

“Good point,” she mused. “We'll keep an eye on things for now.” 

—

The hospital doors opened, and Chief O'Hara walked into the building. He was flanked by Flaherty and Flannigan as he walked through the waiting room. He loomed over the nurse at the desk, crossing his arms as he looked down at her. She looked up at him, swallowed by his shadow. She swallowed as she met his eyes.

“Can I help you, sir?” She asked. 

The chief walked into the room, filling the rest of the space. He looked at the gathered crowd, Hunter sitting on a chair with Little Red at his side, Iris examining the chart on the wall, and Marian sitting with her head in her hands. He was so large that the detectives couldn't squeeze into the room with him, and had to peer through the doorway. Hunter looked up at the chief, and for the first time in his life, he felt quite small. 

“I think you know what I want to know,” he said in a low voice. 

—

O'Hara stared across the table at Hunter, and the little girl who refused to leave his side. Flaherty and Flannigan stood at the door, standing a silent vigil. Hunter shivered a bit, feeling quite cold without the comfort of his sweater. O'Hara looked at Marian’s affidavit, then tossed it on the table. Hunter took the paper and read through it, his brow furrowing with every word. He looked up at the chief, waiting for something to break the oppressive silence. 

“Escaped convicts,” O'Hara finally said. “Broken windows, crushed buildings, and a police car cut clean in half. Two dead victims and one in the recovery ward, all at the point of a sword. And, at the center of it all, is you.” 

“I think I should speak to a lawyer,” Hunter swallowed. O'Hara leaned in closer. 

“Woods never mentioned that you had another sister,” he said, looming over Hunter. Hunter swallowed, and Little Red clenched her tiny fists. 

“What do you want me to say?” He asked as he looked up at the imposing man. 

“I want the truth,” O'Hara replied. 

“Everyone says that,” Hunter said. He stared up at O'Hara. The chief sighed, relaxing a little. 

“Just tell me what happened,” he said. “You're not in trouble.” 

“Everyone says that,” Hunter repeated, not blinking. O’Hara gave a frustrated sigh. 

“Look, we both want the same thing,” he said. “The sooner you cooperate with me, the sooner we can work together and put a stop to Cal.” 

“Yeah,” Hunter sighed softly. He took a deep breath, then explained everything. 

O’Hara listened intently as Hunter told him what happened. He tented his fingers, listening to the whole story as Hunter described it. His harsh stare softened as Hunter spoke, and finally, he held up his hand. 

“I get it,” he finally said. Hunter took a deep breath. 

“You do?” he asked hopefully. 

“I just don’t believe it,” O’Hara said. He stared at Hunter. 

“I told you the truth,” Hunter insisted. 

“You told me a great story,” the chief replied. “But it all sounds insane without any proof.”

“Then I’ll prove it,” said Little Red. Both Hunter and O’Hara looked at her, surprised to hear her speak. 

“Excuse me?” O’Hara asked, taken aback. 

“You heard me,” Little Red said. She sat up and put her arm on the table with her hand up. O’Hara watched as she settled into position. Then he chuckled. 

“I’m not going to arm-wrestle a little girl,” he said. Red smirked. 

“You’re afraid you’re going to lose,” she taunted. O’Hara stared at her intensely. He took a deep breath. 

“Okay, I’ll humor you,” he said. He gripped her hand and started to push. Red flexed her bicep, and suddenly, O’Hara found himself no longer gaining ground on the little girl. He furrowed his brow and put a little more strength into it. Then all of his might. He put everything he had into bringing Little Red low, but she remained steadfast. He stared at the girl, sweat beading on his brow, and for the first time, she saw fear in this man’s eyes. She pressed, shoving against the chief’s arm. He tried to resist, but her Heroic strength proved too much for him. She slammed his hand into the table with enough force to knock the chief out of his seat. She stood up, and he stared at her in horror.

“What are you made of?” he demanded. Little Red grinned. 

—

That night, Hunter peeked through the door to Grenda’s room. He smiled to himself as he saw the girl sound asleep in her bed. He shut the door quietly and turned, making his way out of the hospital. As he stepped into the night, he summoned Sun. The monkey king hopped onto his cloud, waiting for Hunter to join him. Hunter stepped forward, shivering in the night. 

“Where do you think you're going?” Iris said. Hunter turned to her, seeing her leaning against the pillar. 

“I have a promise to keep,” he said. 

“Do you have a plan?” She asked. 

“Fight, win, survive,” Hunter said, going to take another step toward Sun. Iris shook her head. Then she charged forward, wrapping her arms around Hunter. He paused, letting her press against his back. 

“You better,” she said softly. Hunter closed his eyes and smiled. 

“Beep beep!” Called Sun, honking an imaginary horn on an imaginary steering wheel. Hunter and Iris chuckled. 

“Get out of here,” she said, patting Hunter's back softly. Hunter nodded and smiled. 

“Take good care of Grenda for me,” he said. He stepped onto Sun’s cloud and gripped his shoulders. The pair flew off into the night, and Iris sighed softly. Once the two were out of sight, she turned to go back inside. 

Sun and Hunter flew around the city, counting on the Hero to spot some sign of Cal. The two flew, when a burst of flame erupted beneath them. Sun swerved his cloud to avoid the searing blast. The air filled with more bursts of vibrant flame, and Hunter looked around. 

“I wasn't expecting fireworks tonight!” He called to Sun. The monkey shook his head. 

“Not fireworks,” he said. “We're being attacked!” 

“Down there!” Hunter called as he spotted their assailant. The genie stood on a rooftop, his hands aflame. He fired another blast at the pair. Sun gripped his cloud tightly and dodged the blast, then flew toward the genie. The pair landed on the roof, and Sun turned the cloud sideways to skid to a stop. The pair stepped off, and Cal stepped out, clapping slowly. 

“Well done, well done!” He sneered as he applauded. Hunter grit his teeth. 

“I'm here for Beowulf,” he said, summoning Little Red. The girl hit the roof in a fighting stance, glaring at Cal. The man chuckled maliciously as he returned the Genie to his deck. 

“Very well, I'll humor you,” he mused. He touched a deck, summoning the war-king. The man rose to his full height, towering over everyone present. He gripped his sword, glaring at Hunter and Little Red. 

“Beowulf,” Cal ordered. “Kill.” 

[Fight song: Superhuman - Miracle of Sound] 

Hunter launched into his attack, sending Little Red at Beowulf. She leapt into the air and kicked him in the face, her foot glancing off his cheek as he glared. Her next attack was a punch to his knee, trying to bring the king low. He grit his teeth, closing his eyes. When he opened them, they burned bright red with rage. Hunter began to sweat. 

Beowulf swung his sword, the blow glancing off Red’s forearm. He swung again in a fierce downswing. Red raised her basket, blocking the sword, though her footing was shaky. Beowulf roared with anger, and the force of his unrelenting attack caved in the roof beneath Red’s feet. She yelped as she was knocked through the roof and several floors. She finally crashed into one floor, earning the shocked murmurs of a family as she hopped to her feet. She leapt back through the hole she'd created and punched Beowulf in the face. 

“We're not your enemy, Beowulf!” She pleaded. “Just come with us!” 

“RAAAAAAAGH!” Beowulf roared. He swung his sword again, with Red barely managing to parry. She leapt to another rooftop. Beowulf chased after her, lunging with his sword ready. Red delivered a crushing punch to his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. 

Cal watched on, amused as his Hero battled. He leaned against the roof’s edge, looking at Hunter as he lazily selected his cards. 

“You really didn't think this through, did you?” He chuckled. Hunter grit his teeth. 

“Really, there are easier ways to throw your life away,” Cal continued to taunt Hunter. Hunter slammed the wall and pressed on one of his cards. Little Red rushed at Beowulf, knocking the war-king off-balance with a mighty hit. Cal balked, then touched a card to defend from Hunter’s next attack. Hunter smirked. Cal growled and called out to his Hero.

“Beowulf, kill her!” 

Fighting such a small target was an issue for Beowulf. Any attack he made sent Little Red flying out of reach, and her small size made him work to make his attacks land. He growled as he glared at the little girl before him. He stared into her eyes, but he didn't see her. He only saw the girl that was taken from him. The girl he was fighting to get back. He took a deep breath, flooding his lungs with sweet oxygen. Little Red went in for the attack, and Beowulf knocked her aside with his blade. She landed between Hunter and Cal, and Beowulf leapt across the gap. He landed in front of Red and tossed his sword aside. The blade flew and sunk blade-first into the wall, missing Cal by an inch. 

“Watch it!” He cried out. Beowulf ignored him. He picked Red up by her face, holding her in a crushing grip. Red scrambled, trying to free herself from his clutch. She grabbed at his wrist, kicked at his chest, anything she could think of. But she was too weakened from their battle. Too frail. 

Powerless. 

Beowulf took Red and slammed her into the roof, leaving a crater where her skull hit the shingling. He released her, standing back up. He turned to retrieve his sword as Red looked pitifully at Hunter. He ran over to her, cradling her in his arms.

“Red…” he said softly. 

“Hunter… I don't want to go with him,” she whined as he held her. Hunter gently pet her hair. 

“I'll think of something,” he promised. “Just hold on a little longer!” 

“Come back for me,” Little Red begged, her body disintegrating into golden dust. Hunter was left

kneeling, holding nothing but empty air. He stared down at his empty hands, tears springing in his eyes. She was gone… He looked up at Cal, gritting his teeth. 

“Beowulf, kill him,” Cal said with a wicked smile. Beowulf approached Hunter, his sword drawn. He paused for a moment as he looked down at him. Then he swung his sword. Hunter closed his eyes as the sound of metal on metal rang out like a bell. He looked up again to see Sun Wukong parrying the blow with his staff. The monkey king grit his teeth as he pushed back against his opponent. Beowulf withdrew his sword, then swatted Wukong away. He stared at Hunter. 

“Tell me,” he demanded. “Does she live?” 

“Yes…” Hunter nodded. “She’s alive.” 

“Good,” Beowulf said with a soft smile. He sheathed his sword. Cal threw up his hands. 

“Are you done? Kill him!” he ordered, stomping his foot like a child. Beowulf snorted. 

“Begone,” he turned to Cal, glaring at him. Cal crossed his arms. 

“Did you hear me? I am your Player!” he commanded. “And I say kill him! You have to!” 

“Blood will be shed tonight,” said Beowulf, cracking his knuckles as he stalked toward Cal. Cal looked a little nervous as Beowulf approached. 

“Beowulf, don’t you dare!” Cal stepped back, feeling the backs of his knees pressing against the half-wall of the roof. He looked around for a way out, but Beowulf was too large. The king reared his fist back and threw a devastating punch, striking Cal in the nose. Cal nearly fell over, but Beowulf grabbed him by the shirt collar. The student clutched his broken nose, staring fearfully up at Beowulf. 

“Make no mistake, boy,” Beowulf growled. “I owe you nothing. Not obedience, and certainly not murder. My loyalty is to my player, and you are not her.” 

“I won you,” Cal sputtered, his hands stained red. “Fair and square!” 

“You made Arthur turn his sword on a child,” Beowulf answered. He rammed his forehead against Cal’s, and Hunter winced at the sudden spray of blood. “You won nothing, and will get what you are owed.” 

“This isn’t over, you disobedient freak!” Cal growled, spitting blood. He was practically sobbing, shaking under the Hero’s intimidating presence. Beowulf threw him aside, sending him rolling across the roof. Then he stalked toward him again, gritting his teeth. 

“Return my cards to me!” he snarled, lunging forward. He stopped, feeling something sharp pressed against his neck. He glanced to the side, his eyes following the silvered steel of Excalibur. 

“Do not make me kill you again,” King Arthur said softly. His eyes locked with Beowulf’s, and the king finally sighed. 

“Don’t call on me again,” he demanded, before he turned into an orb of blue-green light. He flew into his deck, leaving Cal and Arthur alone with Hunter. Cal chuckled malevolently as he stood up. Despite his face spewing blood, he laughed with the perverse glee of a lunatic. 

“Now that our little setback has been handled,” he began, walking toward Hunter. “We can finish what we started.” 

“You’re insane,” Hunter said, backing away from Cal. 

“I’m a winner, Hunter!” Cal said, laughing as he approached. “I’m going to keep winning, and winning, and winning, until every Hero is mine, and I get the prize!” 

“Prize?” Hunter asked. Arthur shot a glance aside at Cal. “You’re killing people just for a stupid prize?” 

“I don’t expect you to understand,” Cal waved a hand dismissively. “You could’ve gotten out of this when I gave you a chance. You should’ve given me your cards. I would’ve let you live!” 

Cal’s eyes narrowed maliciously. 

“But you denied me,” he continued. He stalked closer and closer, his Hero following him. “Arthur. Kill him.” 

Hunter didn’t see a way out. Cal to his left, Arthur to his right. Behind him, nothing but a long drop to the street below. He started to panic, when an idea dawned on him. He jumped up onto the half-wall, grinning at Cal. 

“You wouldn’t…” Cal said, panic dawning in his eyes. Hunter held up his hands. 

“So long,” he said with a smile. 

“I’ll just take your last deck off your smeared carcass!” Cal screamed. Arthur chuckled softly. Hunter took a step back, falling over the edge of the building. Cal rushed over to see the fall, but he’d disappeared from sight. Hunter rose slowly into view, sitting crosslegged on Sun’s cloud. The two glared daggers at each other for a moment, each stewing in their anger. Then Hunter flew off on Sun’s cloud, leaving Cal’s view in moments. Cal swore loudly, raging at the sky.  

—

The cloud came to a stop outside Hunter’s home, and he nearly fell through the door. He coughed as he fumbled with his keys, opening the door after a moment of struggle. What a night… He flicked on the light and saw a familiar face sitting on his couch with a smile. 

“Hello, Hunter,” said Alan. “Nice of you to come home.” 

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