Jun 5, 2019
... Don’t ask. I just got possessed by the spirit of my 15-years-old self
seen from Türkiye
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Japan
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Albania
seen from Canada
seen from Mexico
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Albania
seen from Sweden
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from United States
... Don’t ask. I just got possessed by the spirit of my 15-years-old self
Day 1/30
Hey, I need more content for one of my favorite ships. I found an OTP writing challenge that’s pretty old and I don’t know the origin of because I got it off of a bootleg on Wattpad. It seems geared more towards drawing but it’s a draw/write challenge. 30 days. Here we go. (Gonna connect these as a story so...)
Day 1/30: Holding Hands
Ship: Snund
Description: Jund arrives off the plane for a week with his friends. Crowded airports kind of suck, though.
The airport was as crowded as ever. Nobody wanted to stay in the crowd long so it was also busy. It was a miracle Jund was able to stay standing when businessmen with large suitcases violently pushed past him. He had a heavy backpack on his shoulders that was anchoring him in place and making it even harder to move around. Oh what he would give for teleportation abilities to just teleport to baggage claim. Eventually he gave in and joined with the pushing just so he could get past the busy people that didn’t have a care if even a toddler got trampled.
The only solace Jund had in the commotion was that his friends were in baggage claim, waiting for him so they could get lunch. His mind wandered and he pulled out his phone. The screen was blown up with texts from the small group, wondering where he was and how much longer he was going to take. It was only a small get together since they hadn’t seen each other for a year so it was no huge deal to be on time. They only had a few days together, though so might as well spend it having fun and not being pushed down the stairs.
It was a shame that was exactly what happened. As Jund was looking at his phone, a man was slinging a backpack over his shoulder. The backpack hit Jund square in the spine. The force had him trip forward. He lost his footing on the step and fell right now. He could’ve sworn his life flashed before his eyes. He braced for impact and brought his limbs closer to his body, which didn’t exactly help with catching himself. He tumbled down several steps, people choosing to move out of the way instead of helping him. Thankfully he wasn’t far from the bottom.
When he hit the floor he was in a daze. His head hurt but he managed to shield it from major damage He heard hurried footsteps going towards him so he looked up. Standing above him was Snake, one of his friends that he was supposed to be meeting. He had apparently saw the commotion.
“You okay?” he asked in his low tone.
Jund nodded and took the hand Snake was offering to get himself up. “I should really just get my bags so we can leave,” he prompted, getting a nod in response from Snake.
The two of them walked to baggage claim and had to stand for several minutes until they spotted Jund’s bag, which had been circulating three times after they got there. Soon, they were able to meet up with the rest of the group.
Jund had scuffs and bruises along his arms and it kind of looked like had been in a fight… and lost. Snake was the first to notice this when he looked at Jund and checked the damage. When he saw the confused looks from the rest of the group he decided he would be the first to address it.
“He lost a fight with the staircase,” he explained briefly, earning laughs from the group, save for Jund. Jund’s response was to drop Snake’s hand, which he hadn’t realized he had been holding the whole time, and walk away.
“I’m booking the next flight back,” he said, yelling to them behind his back. “Fuck you guys.”
The group had to chase after him and drag him the car in the parking lot so they could get lunch.
Hey, I forgot I was shit at writing. Oh well. The chapters are gonna be short but who knows, I might get better at writing throughout this. Or maybe just have more motivation to write it in the first place.
So I’m a bit of a doof and used a cell phone instead of the internet, but same concept right?
Word Count : ~700
~
#TBT #squad
Jund rolled his eyes when he got around to checking his phone. Cry had reposted an old photo of the gang, 2 years prior, at his last New Years Party. It felt so long ago now.
Snake had been his boyfriend in this picture.
He’d be mad at Cry for the post if not for the fact they didn’t look particularly couple-y in it. It was, in essence, just a picture of all Cry’s closest friends in one place, a feat that hadn’t happened in awhile. But he could still feel that arm around his shoulders, that embrace he’d gotten familiar with. Another buzz startled him back into focus.
From Snake: Remember trying to share that stupid twin size bed at Cry’s place?
To Snake: That he insisted would fit both of us? We slept on opposite sides of the bed for a week after that.
Jund laughed and leaned back into his chair. It felt like yesterday, waking up glued to Snake and numb limbs from being tangled that close.
From Snake: Just as much fun as that ‘surprise road trip.’
They’d ended up sleeping in the car when the impromptu part of the trip bit Jund in the ass. No places had any rooms to sleep in. They’d climbed into the back, haggard and grumpy, parking at a desolate camping area. It hadn’t been too far from home, and they didn’t get far, but Jund secretly kept the keychain from their last stop.
To Snake: Shut up. It was a great idea.
What had that last fight been about? His snark? Snake’s deadpan? Probably something childish. They couldn’t talk for shit, not on anything real like the future. He regretted it now. The phone sat silently next to him, and he curled his knees up to rest his forehead against them. A tired sadness creeped into his head. Breaking up had been painful, and the fallout had been horrendous on their friendship, and it left him alone and unhappy.
From Snake: It was.
Why talk about it now? Missing Snake accomplished nothing. He didn’t bother with a response. Scott purposely left the phone while he went to shower, and didn’t take a step out of it until the hot water had run cold.
Maybe it wasn’t a healthy way to cope. Neither was obsessing over something that could never be again.
He’d just about settled when the phone shook again.
From Snake: I miss you.
Scott about dropped the phone when it vibrated again quickly after.
From Snake: I’ve wanted to say that for months. Those late night conversations, the spontaneous trips out, waking up to your face… even if we needed to talk more, I’d rather argue with you than be without this.
From Snake: Sorry for putting this on you. I’ll leave you be again.
To Snake: No!
He’d pressed send immediately. Snake would walk away, leave his phone, not answer for the rest of the night if he left. Jund let his shaky fingers try to type out a response.
To Snake: I...I miss you too. All of it with you was better than this. I don’t want to go back to silence. Please.
“Fuck.” Had that been too desperate? God, he was pathetic. Snake probably hadn’t meant getting back together, maybe friends or something, but Jesus way to dump his feelings out there! He bonked his head on the headboard of his bed.
From Snake: Scott, do you mean that?
He did.
To Snake: Every word.
The nervousness sent shivers up his spine. They were talking about it. It was out there, on both ends. The phone went off again, but this time all he could see was a caller ID. Snake. Did he want this? Did he really want to jump back in? They hadn’t learned much, and they’d still fight. Their work hours would clash, they’d have to talk about uncomfortable things, it’d be a wreck between their families. Their friends might not even be behind them anymore. None of it would be easy. Was answering this call, re-opening this door, the best thing to do? He could keep living this way and slowly let this fade. Could he really walk away, and leave this ‘what-if’ hanging over his head for the rest of his life?
. . .
“Scott?”
He took a deep breath and answered.
“Hey Snake.”
~
First thing in months man. Feels nice.
Prompts
I’ve kinda let writing fade from my life, and lately, I’ve started to regret it. If anybody has any ideas, I can’t promise they’ll be long, but I’m going to finish all of them. I’ll post this once, and reblog it once. (I got weird sleeping hours, 3 am isn’t a good time to make this post.)
We’ll go from there if we can.
When you hate angst but live for drama.
When you in a dead/tiny fandom and you still waiting for new content/shipping shit
The Hitman and The Immortal - 3
[Shows up 2 years late with chapter 3]
Fuck it, have the entire thing
-
“So, you’re awake.”
Cry’s voice roused Jund and he opened his eyes, glad at the lack of light in the room.
“My head is killing me and my chest-”
“Don’t sit up.” Cry instructed as he approached. Jund took a moment, realizing he was on the couch where Sup had been earlier. He gingerly touched his chest, wincing as he felt raw flesh underneath it. “It’s been stitching together for the past three hours.”
Jund sighed. “Been out a while.”
“Do you need this?” Cry pointed to a chunk of flesh on the floor.
The man shrugged. “Speeds it up.”
Cry sighed in annoyance as he moved to lift the flesh, wincing as he touched it. His steps were quick, littered with statements of “Ew” and “Yuck” as he handed it to Jund, allowing him to press it against his body. Threads seemed to pull the flesh closer and they stitched it into him, making him hiss. “Damn this hurts.” Jund grumbled.
The couch arm behind his head creaked and Jund turned to see Cry sitting on it. He pulled at the bottom of his mask, dislocating it and leaving his mouth exposed. A cigarette took its place between his lips and he lit it, letting out a deep sigh.
“I have your money.” Cry said, words laced with smoke. “Ken was late. He meant to get to town a week ago for the goods but got trapped on the outskirts with cops. I got enough to pay you, keep my own business afloat and perhaps Pewds if he dares drop by.” He let out another breath of smoke. “Sorry.”
Jund shook his head slightly. “It’s okay. Not like it would have killed me. Just hurts like a bitch.”
“I’ll have Red make you a drink.” Cry rose and moved towards the dim room again, opening the door and letting in the quiet conversations. Red entered a few moments later with a drink that made Jund grin.
She chuckled, seeing his reaction. “There’s seventeen hard liquors in here and I promise, once you finish it, you will not wake up until morning.” The drink was handed over and Jund downed it in a moment, staying conscious enough to say “Not bad” before instantly blacking out.
He came to hours later, when the sun was just poking above the horizon. Chatter was low, if not silent in the bar as he stumbled out. The pain was gone but he was still tender from where he’d been shot.
“Morning.” Red greeted with a tired voice, sliding him a glass of water to wake him up. Jund took it and drank, smiling as it seemed to make him feel better. “I’m just about to head home. What are you doing?”
Jund shrugged. “Thinking of looking for a contract. Seeing if Cry has anyone else he needs to... dispose of.”
“I do,” Cry cut in sleepily, taking a seat next to Jund and slipping him a paper. “Should be an easy job but I’d be careful.”
Jund scoffed. “Always am.”
Cry shook his head. “No. He’s in town.”
Jund choked on his drink, coughing to try and clear his throat. “Got word from Russ last night. He almost got spotted too. Try not to flaunt yourself.”
“I- I’ll try.” Any confidence Jund had was now far gone. “How close was he?”
“If nobody tells, you’ve got months and trust me, nobody’s going to tell on the best hitman in the city.” Cry answered. Red nodded in agreement as she cleaned their glasses. “Going home?”
She nodded. “Damn right. I’ll see you both tonight.”
“Night Red.” Chimed the two boys in return, watching her leave. The door clicked shut and Jund let out a deep sigh. “I’ll take it.”
“I’ll give you the money for both tonight,” Cry answered as he pulled away from the bar. “I’m off to bed. Do whatever you need to.”
“Alright.” Jund stood, politely nodding at Cry before heading out the door into the sunlight.
Now to find this fucker and get paid.
All he wanted was an easy job. Get in and get out.
Instead, He’d landed something much worse.
As soon as he’d walked into that warehouse, all guns were pointed on him. Laser sights from the sniper a floor above rested on his chest while he spotted a machine gun aimed at him. The ground floor had four men, all armed with Glocks and pointed straight at him. A woman gazed at him with a relaxed smile, sitting upon several boxes with crossed legs. A purple streak ran through her brown hair and Jund recognized her on site.
“What are you doing here? Did Cry send you?” The woman asked. “Is that what this is about?” A laugh escaped her.
Jund curled his fists. “I’m not here to get involved with your disputes. I’m here to get my job done, Minx.”
“Ah ah ah~” She tutted and all the weapons pointed at Jund were loaded with a click. “I don’t think you’re in the position to be so snappy.” A grin on her lips as she stood, brushing dirt off her black tank top and straightening her large brown jacket. Combat boots echoed loudly as she stepped forward, stopping between two of her henchmen. “Tell Cry that he’ll get his goods as soon as he coughs up the money he owes me.”
“I told you I’m not dealing with his shit.” Jund roared in response taking a step forward. It was as if he’d pressed a button and he looked up, seeing them all pull the trigger.
Good fucking job Jundus. Good fucking job.
“So this was the formidable assassin everyone talked about?”
Jund knew he was dead. His body wouldn’t move but his mind was still there. A crumpled heap on the floor, seeping blood from the hundreds of bullet holes in his form. Minx stood by him, staring at his corpse and laughing. His right hand was pinned under his body but that only brought him comfort, feeling his fingers resting on the grip of his Beretta.
Just play it cool. Don’t breathe. Don’t revive. Don’t live. Wait.
“This kid was nothing!” Minx laughed, kicking Jund’s body before moving away. The others had lowered their weapons and were retreating, making the man smile. He forced himself awake, feeling the burn from the bullets in his flesh and the ache as his heart started to move again but he kept silent, just finding enough energy to get what he needed done. He grabbed the Beretta and pulled it out, lining it up with Minx’s head. Come on Jundus... Come on...
“Fuck you, that hurt.” The trigger was pulled and Minx fell forward, blood splattered on the pillars supporting the second floor and the boxes she had been on. Her henchmen ran out in a panic, screaming as they found her body and only growing louder in volume as they watched Jund rise. No survivors. That was the requirement and with a few more pulls of the trigger, the conditions were fulfilled.
Jund walked quietly along, allowing the shadows of the alley to swallow him. He wouldn’t return to the bar tonight, no. Krism would probably be lurking by the doors, waiting for him to come. He wasn’t in the mood to kill another lord today. It’d attract too much trouble. He dropped himself down against a building, still hidden in the darkness and began to pick at his arms, opening wounds that had healed poorly. Blood dribbled out and he ignored the sting as his finger and thumb entered, pulling out a bullet and dropping it to the floor. It hit with a dull ‘ching’, rolling away into the darkness while the flesh pulled together, mending until there was only a red mark, like someone had scratched a bit too hard.
“Jund.” A voice hissed, making the hitman jump. He drew a weapon, pointing it at the roof where the sound had originated but he lowered it with a sigh, closing his eyes as the figure dropped down in front of him almost silently. “There you are.” Russ smiled and adjusted his glasses as Jund opened his eyes to scowl at him. “How are you?”
“Just peachy.” Jund grumbled as he pulled another bullet free, flicking it down the alley without a care before returning to the others still imbedded in him. There were only a few and he would have hoped to get them all out before he needed to be somewhere. “You?”
Russ shrugged. “I’m doing alright.” He said, sitting down next to Jund.
“I heard you saw Him the other day.” Jund commented as he tossed away another bullet. Russ nodded and pulled out a small envelope, opening it and handing a few images to Jund.
“I don’t know why he’s here.” He began as Jund looked at the man in the photos. He was young but the stubble on his face and the dark eyes made him look older. A black coat hid his body and Jund could only assume that inside were several different weapons. He looked like a shadow aside from the green bandanna he’d heard about from others, rumoured to be hiding all sorts of hidden daggers and vials of poison for takedowns. His image sent a chill up Jund’s spine.
“I hear he’s immortal.” Russ said, making Jund stiffen. “Never seen him take a bullet.”
The man shook his head. “There’s no way he’s immortal.” Jund said, pulling out the last of the imbedded shots and sighing in relief.
“Nobody’s ever seen him be injured,” Russ answered. “And he’s never failed a kill. They say that he can kill anyone, even those who refuse to die. He’s got these special guns and serums, said to stop anything.”
Jund’s form quivered and he wrapped his arms around himself to comfort himself. He’d heard of these types, people who hunted his kind and he’d even heard of his own kind joining their ranks. It made him feel ill and he handed the photos back to Russ, committing his appearance to memory. “I’ll kill him.”
“You’d be rich” Came the reply. “There’s bounties for him everywhere.” Russ got to his feet and lit a cigarette, taking a breath of it and letting out the smoke as he looked down the alley. “I wouldn’t stick around for long, Heard he’s been prowling around these parts”
Jund chuckled. “See you round.” He gave a small wave, watching as Russ turned around and scrambled up the wall, vanishing with the dull clacking of feet on roof tiles. He sighed, getting to his feet and beginning the walk to somewhere hidden where he’d be safe for the night, trying not to think of the man out for his blood.
A content smile sat on Jund’s face as he walked down the lit streets, comforted by the cash hidden away in his pockets. Turns out Cry had been telling the truth, for when he returned to the bar in the early hours of the morning, the man had slapped the cash into his hands and thanked him for all his work. Jund took a right, entering the small bakery and relaxing as the scents of dough and sweets overwhelmed his senses. It was small things like this that made him feel better, that drowned out the thoughts of what he’d seen the night before or masked the scent of blood that more often than not clung to him when someone approached with a particularly troublesome contract.
“A donut and a small coffee. Black.” He said, handing over a smaller note that he’d convinced Cry to give him. The young woman smiled and cashed it in, handing back change and a table number. Jund sat at table six, facing the wall contently. It wasn’t like there was anything else to look at in here anyway. Thoughts began to wander with the soothing scent and Jund found himself in a daydream, thinking of a home he could live in with a young woman and all the comforts of a stable life. He would have been bitter but the scent masked the feeling, transforming it into mild displeasure but nothing his coffee couldn’t end up fixing. The chime of the bakery door opening tugged him away from the scene playing in his mind and he grew confused. Why? Why did the bell-
“Coffee. White.” A deep voice rumbled and Jund felt the blood in his veins freeze.
No. No, It couldn’t be.
He wished he had the self restraint to stop himself but all those years under his belt couldn’t hold him back. His head turned and by some miracle, he managed to stop his eyes widening as he settled on the tall man waiting for his change. The man seemed to have some height on Jund, clad in his black coat which was out of place in an establishment like this. Black boots also added to his height and the bandanna was there, vibrant in contrast. The tip of a blade glinted in the ceiling lights, making Jund stiffen. “Shit.” He cursed to himself, turning away and looking to his hands.
He just hoped his drink would come soon.
“Sir?”
The voice made Jund lift his head, seeing the lady with his order. A quick thanks and he accepted it, sipping his drink and letting it soothe his panicked mind. He swallowed, turning his attention to his phone, sending a quick text and setting it to vibrate, as to not alert others. Not three seconds after setting it down, the device gave a hum and he looked at it, reading the message quickly.
“You’re in the same place as him?! Get out of there! What if he recognizes you!” Russ texted. Jund quietly sighed, sparing a glance to the man who faced away from him. He’d been rather civil, even flirting with the waitress who Jund could tell was falling for his charms and voice.
“He’s flirting. Tell me all you can about him. If I’m taking him out, I’ll need all I can get.” Jund replied, setting aside his phone and sipping his drink again. He began to eat the donut when his message came through and he flipped it open, reading quickly but making sure to draw in all the information he could.
“They call him Snake. It’s said he’s immortal from the way he slips through combat. He walks into a room of people and walks out dirty but alive, much like you do. Nobody’s even gotten close to taking him down. He’s wanted in several states and even overseas from what others tell me. I’ll need cash if you want anything else, spent my last thousand getting this handy tidbit - It’s rumoured he’s carrying the famed “Crystal Bullets”. They say you shoot them and they explode inside the target, ruining them. Says it’s the key to ‘Destroying that which won’t die’ or something.”
Jund felt a tremble run down his spine as he looked over to the man, now identifying him as Snake. He seemed to be smiling at the woman and it just baffled him that he could be a master assassin. The thought made Jund laugh silently.
He didn’t look like an immortal killer either.
It was a quiet night in the bar. People kept to themselves when Jund was there, no matter how many times he assured them it was okay to mess around. His fingers traced along the rim of the glass idly, thoughts blocked up inside and making it hard to focus on anything else. A chair pulled out opposite him and he looked up to see Red.
“Russ is on bar.” She answered before Jund could open his mouth. He glanced over, seeing the man cleaning up marks from spilt cups and making the odd drink.
“It’s quiet tonight.” Jund remarked, turning his chair to face the stage where a band quietly played. It wasn’t the type of song that should be quiet but they looked nervous, as if they feared rebellion. “It’s because of me, isn’t it?”
Red allowed a sigh to escape her, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. “They’re just worried that you’re on duty.” She replied. “Or that something’s going to happen”
“I swear that if they don’t start relaxing that something is going to happen!” His voice boomed in the quiet space and not a moment later, came the roar that usually filled the room, musicians cranking their tunes and singing louder while conversation started, a few laughs puncturing the space at the relief of being able to chat. Jund let out a sigh, sinking into his chair. “These people...”
Red just chuckled, standing up and taking the empty glass from Jund’s side of the table. “I’ll get you one on the house.” She said, walking over to the bar.
“Aren’t they all on the house?” Jund retorted with a smirk, watching her leave. She stuck a finger up, continuing to walk and it only made him grin, turning his attention to the musicians now singing loudly on stage.
“Here.”
Jund was snapped from his content daze on the couch by the bundle of notes being handed to him by Cry. He took it and gestured for the masked man to sit next to him, watching as he sank into the comfort of the couch with a pained whine. “Rough day?
A laugh escaped his mouth, transforming into sobbing and moaning as he watched the stage. The tune was now soft and gentle, complimenting the mood of the bar with most of the patrons passed out on the floor or resting in the several booths Cry had installed, complete with blankets and cushioning. It kept the violence down in the bar and stopped people getting into trouble when they had taken a few too many shots of whisky. Jund reached a hand over and patted his shoulder with a smile, pocketing the cash and making a gesture to Red who nodded in understanding.
“Pewds dropped by. Asking for his payment.” Cry began, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag of it while Red brought him a glass of their secret mix that not even Cry knew how to make. He took it, sipping and relaxing at the taste. “I handed it over but he told me it was short. I counted it right before he got there. Twelve Thou and a bag of leftovers from Ken’s purchase.” He sipped again and sighed, pulling up a part of his shirt. “Him and his gang beat me and took their cash. Dicks.”
“Damn...” Jund looked at the spot carefully, seeing the bruising rise up and a few cuts that didn’t look too serious. “Sorry I couldn’t be there.”
Cry waved it off. “It’s alright.” He answered. “Red gave them a good beating and helped patch me up.” He downed the glass and turned to face the bar. “Aint that right?”
“Damn straight! Slammed that Stephano kid right over the head!” Red held a fist in the air, fingers wrapped tightly around the handle of her trusty broom that many a customer had learned to fear. Nobody really knew what was in it but the weight was enough to crack bones. Smoke left Cry’s mouth in small puffs as he chuckled, returning his attention to Jund.
“Sounds like you had a fun day.” Jund said, sinking into the couch beside Cry and sighing. He groped blindly along the side of the couch, finding a small brown lever and giving it a tug. The footrest popped up and Jund let out a sigh, laying down with the new space.
Cry placed the cigarette in his mouth and got up, leaning on the arm of the couch. “You get some rest. We’ll cover you till you wake up.”
“Thanks.” Came the quiet reply as Jund got comfortable, completely asleep by the time Cry found a blanket to drape over him. The band kept playing, still quiet and soft while hushed conversation filled the silent moments, lulling him into the comforting darkness to rest.
“Russ!”
Red’s voice tore Jund from his sleep and he sat bolt upright, Beretta in his grip as he pointed it towards the door. A man loomed in it, although Jund couldn’t remember his name with the sleep clouding his mind. He had short hair and thin black glasses which accompanied his black shirt and pants. Over his shoulder sat Russ’ limp form and the sight woke him more, bracing himself to fire.
“Weapons down!” Cry’s voice cut through and all throughout the bar came the sounds of guns being set down on tables. It amazed Jund how many people were awake and actually threatening the newcomer, all due to Red’s unsaid command. Cry approached the doorway slowly, each step making the air thicker. Jund reluctantly lowered his weapon, watching the two carefully, as were the rest of the patrons.
“Mark. Why do you have Russ? Hand him over.” Cry held out his arms, watching the man carefully. There was a darkness in the man’s eyes and that made Cry’s movements more wary. “Please.”
Mark stepped in, approaching Cry. Everyone watched him, ready to act; Even Red had a hand on her trusty broom. He dropped Russ into Cry’s arms and immediately, everyone let go of their weapons.
“You’re lucky I found him.” Mark stated.
Cry nodded, handing Russ off to Red and a few other patrons who rushed him over to a booth. “Thank you” Cry said. “I’ll be sure to add to your payment”
Mark waved it away. “That’s not why I saved him. I have just as much for him as you do” He said. The words confused those in the bar, waiting for Mark to continue.
“He’s bleeding!” Red’s words were sharp and Jund leapt over the couch and over to the booth were Russ was. His shirt had been ripped open and Red had her hands over a spot seeping with blood.
Cry looked to Mark with a harsh gaze to which he answered calmly. “Snake had him.”
A hush descended over the bar, fighting spirit that would have welled had any other name been spoken now fading out. Fear took them and they fell silent, waiting for more words. “I found him out near Ken’s safe house. He was bleeding and it looked like he’d been thrown from the roof.”
“-Information.” Russ forced, making those attending to him jump. “Jund’s... information.”
Cry’s eyes widened and he beckoned Mark towards the booth, knowing the things Russ had found were one of the many reasons he’d been brought back in one piece. “Don’t push yourself.” He instructed, looking over the man and watching him with sorrow.
“They say Snake’s got no base. He’s wandering the streets in a pattern. He’ll be on top of the bar tonight.” Russ took a break and coughed, spitting out small flecks of blood. “I would have got more but he arrived and my source left. I’m sorry.”
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” Jund said as he looked him over, idea coming to mind. He rushed away from the table into the back room where Sup was.
“Hey” He greeted, scooping the sleepy creature up. “Feel like helping me out once more.”
The small creature scoffed. “Is immortality not enough?” It asked. Jund’s brows furrowed with irritation and a frightened look appeared on Sup’s face.
“This isn’t what I wanted,” He growled. “And this is for Russ, not me.”
A soft chuckle left Sup’s lips mouth and he nodded, letting the fear ebb away. “Everyone gets one miracle.” And with those words, Jund carried him out towards the booth were Russ was and left him alone.
“What are you doing up here? Aren’t you cold?”
Jund turned around to see Red stumbling along the roof tiles, trying to keep her balance. Two bottles were in her hand and Jund shook his head, standing and taking her hand.
“Watch your step.” He warned as he guided her to the edge of the roof, helping her sit down before taking his place beside her. “I’m not cold.”
Red chuckled, handing over a beer. “Can you even feel the cold?” She asked, popping the lid off the bottle and raising it to her lips. Jund toyed with his for a moment before breaking his lid off, sipping quickly.
“I feel the cold, just not as much.” He answered. “Same with the heat. It’s all dulled.”
The bartender nodded in understanding, pulling a cigarette out and lighting it. She offered Jund a breath but he declined. “Russ is gonna get better. Sup did something to him and it helped with the bleeding. Cry stitched him up and the customers are looking after him. It’s like a second family.”
That got a laugh out of Jund. “Never thought that a group of thugs, criminals and the unsavoury kind would be more trustworthy than others.” He took another sip of his drink. “Amazing the world we live in.”
“What gossip am I missing out on?” Cry’s voice cut through as he trotted down the roof with well placed steps, sitting beside Jund and clinking his bottle against the man’s.
Red waved a hand. “None. Just talking about the weather.”
Cry nodded in understanding, looking at the setting sun. “We’re doing a lock in tonight.” He stated. “Gangs from all over are staying the night. Mark, Krism, What’s left of Minx’s, Even Ken and Pewds are bringing their numbers. There’s more but naming them would take too long. We’re all behind you tonight Jund.” Cry downed his drink and tossed the bottle down into the street, listening to the glass shatter and litter the floor. “You may work for me but you are a useful tool to each gang and a friend to most of the leaders. If he strikes you down, we will kill him in revenge.”
Jund ran his fingers along the rim of his bottle before downing it in a swift motion and slamming it onto the ground below near Cry’s. “Alright. I might not be able to kill him here. It depends.”
“I’ll start calling.” Red stood and headed back towards the ladder. Jund let out a sigh, moving to follow. “Well, Might as well get some sleep. Probably will be my last.”
“Tell you what,” Cry followed him to the ladder. “You make it out alive and I will double your next job.”
Jund looked to him with surprise but smiled. “You got yourself a deal.”
It was dark and cold, chilly enough that not even Jund’s jacket nor his desensitization to the elements could stop him feeling it. A breeze came along and cut through him, making him shiver. Dim streetlights attempted to pierce the darkness but failed, only making slightly lighter sections to which moths and other insects flocked. His gun brought him comfort but even that was being dulled by the mood and the ever present fear that Snake was going to crop up out of nowhere. Below, the bar was filled with people, all choosing to stay there as opposed to their own bases. It was safest that way; Safety in numbers or so they assumed. Nobody sat by the bar, choosing no drinks to comfort them and everyone was on alert, even Russ who clutched his trusted sniper rifle close. Jund let out a sigh, watching as his breath curled in the chilled air.
“Are you even there or are you going to keep me waiting all night.”
“Impatient, aren’t you.” The deep voice from the bakery growled. “That eager to die?”
With a click, floodlights flicked on around the place and Jund felt an axe swing into his neck, making it halfway through. He let out a scream of pain, stepping away and turning around to see Snake slipping his coat over a white dress shirt. His bandanna was tied around his mouth and marked with sharp teeth, a symbol Jund knew as the Hunters. The axe was still in his hand and looked ready to swing again. Jund flinched, hand to the gash as he tried to stem the blood flow and stay conscious.
“Those haven’t worked in years” He said, watching as the cloaked man stepped forward, raising a gun to point at him. “How did you even get on the roof? I didn’t even hear you-” The question was stopped by the sudden sound of a bullet ripping free of the gun. Jund moved, just narrowly avoiding it. He fired back, finger tight on the trigger and he watched as his bullet moved towards the unaware man. It ripped into his coat and Jund’s eyes widened as he watched it just clip the side of Snake’s body. The man was quick. A few more bullets were fired on Snake’s end and Jund backed away instinctively, not taking notice of the edge of the roof. His foot slipped and he plummeted, body hitting the concrete hard. Broken shards of glass from their discarded bottles stuck into his body, making small cuts but those were the least of his problems.
Your eyes are open. This is good. Don’t move. Don’t revive. You know when you need to.
The sound of footsteps stopped his thoughts as Snake stepped into view, twirling his gun.
“You’re not dead, are you?” He asked as he approached, sliding a bullet into the chamber. “No, Immortals don’t go down that easy. This is a Crystal bullet. It enters your body and explodes, sending fragments through it. It’s said that the Crystal can stop the magic and cause you to die. Honestly, I’ve never had a chance to try these bullets. Never really had an Immortal on my hit list, nor has anyone tried to kill me”
Jund felt confusion run through his body and it was as if Snake sensed it.
“You seem confused” He stated. “Do I need to spell it out? I’m Immortal, too.” Snake cast aside his coat and Jund would have grinned if he’d revived. The mark. Still there. Still bleeding. Snake kept on his approach and the dead man laughed, slowly pushing himself to his feet as he took shallow breaths. Snake backed up slightly, knowing better than to charge in. Even when an Immortal was recovering, they were dangerous. “What’s so amusing? Do you eagerly await your death?”
“Not at all.” Jund replied calmly. “But what does amuse me, is you.” He grinned, pulling the Beretta out and firing at Snake, hitting him in the shoulder. The man hissed in pain, dropping his gun onto the floor. “You think you’re immortal. That’s what amuses me.” Jund chuckled as he pulled the trigger again, firing another round into him. Each bullet slipped through his form like a hot knife in butter, exiting with almost as much force. Jund only stopped in his rampage when his clip emptied, leaving only the quiet click of the hammer in an empty chamber.
Heavy, shaken breaths left Snake’s form, each laboured and pained. “You...”
“You weren’t an immortal. You were just someone with the reflexes for the job. You could step around the bullet but you couldn’t take it.” Jund said calmly as he picked up Snake’s gun. Checking the clip, he did notice a few strange bullets inside. They were blue and white, somewhat transparent shell revealing the orange liquid inside. “But, you should always take precautions. Any last words?”
Snake struggled to sum up his words, muffled by the bandanna. “It’s tradition to take this.” He weakly pointed to the cloth on his mouth. “Would you...”
Jund nodded, untying the material and pocketing it. The green had mixed with red, making him feel an ounce of guilt. It was a nice piece of cloth.
“I’m not against tradition,” Jund said quietly as he tied the material around his arm. “Now, you die.”
There were no words offered in resistance as Jund held the weapon, making sure to line it up. The shot was aimed for Snake’s heart. A lethal hit.
“I’m glad it’s you.”
Jund hesitated. “Pardon?”
“It’s you. Shooting me. I’m glad it’s you.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Jund fired the gun. The bullet slipped through just as easily as the others but as it made contact with his heart, the chemicals inside the shell combined. Jund yelped and leapt backwards as an explosion of crystals ripped through Snake’s body. They were a clear white, stained by the blood which was now covering the pavement. Jund almost gagged at the horrific sight. No wonder they used that to kill an Immortal.
“Jund!” Cry’s voice came from atop the building they had been fighting on, echoing in the newfound silence. “Are you alright?” “Just...” His words trailed. “Gun.”
It was dropped into his hand and he took aim again at Snake. This shot went straight into his head. He was definitely dead now.
Cry’s face softened. “Come inside. Everyone’s waiting for you.”
Jund didn’t move. Cry let out a gentle sigh. “Red’s got your favourite drink waiting for you,” He called, voice sing-song. The Immortal cast one last look at Snake, then to the bandanna.
“Yeah, let’s get some drinks.”
hey scott. long time fan. just wondering why you leave late night so early?
Hey, thanks for your support, I appreciate it. I usually leave early because it takes a long time for me to prepare myself for Snake’s massive