Sal's

Pologies in advance for any typos. Had some drinks.


So we met up at Sal's, as planned. It's a nice place. The bottom floor is the bar area. There's thirteen tables and a bar with about eight or nine stools. There's a couple pool tables, a poker/blackjack table (tonight was Blackjack night, apparently),  and an air hockey table.

Sal, as I'm sure you can guess, is the man who runs the place. He looks to be in his late twenties, with jet back hair and blue-gray eyes. He dresses in black nd red clothes, and wears an apron.

Sal doesn't have many employees. Just a few people he trusts. The guy managing the card table is a bit younger than me, and has beached white hair. Not sure what his name is. Think it starts with an eye. The bouncer at the door is a muscular guy with Black hair and shades. His name is Ken. I like Ken. He's cool. Then there's  couple other interchangeable people working there. Sal does pretty much everything else there himself.

Ken recognized us and nodded for us to go on in. His main job is to keep non-servants out, and he's pretty good at telling who is and isn't working for a Fear.

Have I explained Fears on this blog yet? Eh, I'll do that next post...

All you need to know right now is that our boss is one.

So we went in, greeted Sal, and took a seat at table number 8. Each table has four chairs, each with a poker suit engraved on it. I sat in the spade seat, while Terrence took the diamond and Ciel sat in the heart. If Greg were with us, he'd have taken the club seat. I miss him.

Sal came over to us a minute later and took our orders. We got steak sandwiches and beer. Sal can grill up one hell of a sandwich, by the way. Sal brought us our drinks and went back behind the bar to get the food ready.

As we were waiting, two men entered the bar. One of them was a muscular dude my age,  wering a tight purple t-shirt, with dark, neatly combed hair. The other one was thinner, blonde, and had some recent burn wounds. That was an immediate clue they weren't coming in piece.

Burnscars McGoo glared straight at us on his way in and made a B-line for our table.  He made to grab at me, but I got up and took a step back before he could. He drew a knife and shouted something about his friends that I killed.

His knife hand was then twisted violently behind his back by Sal. I could've sworn he had been behind the bar a second ago, but when it comes to Sal doing badass things, I've learned not to question it.

Purple shirt man caught up and said "I warned you not to start anything, Henry."

"Some one explain," Sal said. "Now."

"This bastard killed my allies and burned our base to the ground!" Henry McGoo hissed.

"I don't care," Sal said. "I do not allow fights in my establishment."

Sal loosened his grip on Henry and shoved him away.

"Derek, back me up here!" Henry said.

"First of all, don't call me that," Purple shirt man said. "Second of all, I told you Sal wouldn't-"

"Fuck Sal!" Henry shouted, gripping his knife and charging at Sal.

As soon as Henry's foot left he floor, Sal's eyes narrowed, and a tremor ran through the bar. Bottles vibrated on their rack, a pool game ground to a halt as balls rolled everywhere, and poor Henry lost his footing and stumbled to the ground.

"Leave," Sal said sternly, as the earthquake came to a halt.

"I'm terribly sorry for this," Derek said, grabbing Henry by the shoulder.

"But-" Henry tried to say.

"We're leaving," Derek said.

He led Henry to the door, but before leaving, he turned back to me.

"Justin, right?" He asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"If I ever run into you outside of this bar," he said, "I'm going to kill you."

"Sure thing, Derek," I said, intentionally trying to irk him.

"My name," he growled, "Is Quan."

And then he left. Sal let out a sigh and turned to me.

"You need to learn to stay out of trouble, Reaper," he said.

"Sorry," I said.

Sal went back to work and I sat down. Sal returned a few minutes later with our sandwiches, and placed a tray of fries and jalapeño popper in the middle of the table. He also placed a small glass of a bright blue drink in front of me. I glanced up at him quizzically, and he pointed to a corner table. Number 3, I think.

"It's from him," Sal said.

At the table was a man wearing a hooded longcoat, and  young girl with brown hair.

"Dark, mysterious," I said, raising the glass to my lips. "Buys me booze. I like him."

I took a sip. It tasted really good. Like some kind of non-sour citrus, mixed with cherry and I think a bit of grapefruit, with the slight sting of vodka.

Ciel made a slight scoffing noise.

"You gonna go over there?" Terrence asked.

"Yeah, I'll talk to them," I said. "Who knows? I might get lucky."

"With which one? "Ciel asked.

"Does it matter?" I replied, finishing the drink.

I got up and approached the table.

"Hey," I asked. "Thanks for the drink."

I had a better look at the too of them now. The man, as I had already noticed, was wearing a dark red longcoat with black accents. Underneath it, he wore a black vest that was zipped up in the front, and a pair of blue jeans. The top half of his fce was concealed under the hood, but he wore a smile on his face and had about a days worth of stubble. He also had a funny looking collar on, with a blinking green light. The girl was dressed in a long skirt and a modest sweater, and was staring shyly at her drink, avoiding eye contact with me. She had pretty eyes. Bright green. The man sat in the spade seat, while the girl sat in the diamond seat.

"You're welcome," the man said. "Justin Ferin, correct?"

"Justin Gremori Ferin," I said. "I'm a little proud of my middle name."

"Of course," the man chuckled. "I'm gld you came over. I wanted to chat for a couple minutes."

"Sounds good," I said.

"That man from earlier," he said. "Quan..."

"You mean Derek?" I asked.

"Yes, him," he said. "Be careful. He can hold his own."

"Against me?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "If you come to blows with him, which I'm sure you will, don't hold back. It'll get you killed."

"I won't then," I said. "Thanks for your concern."

"Also," he said. "Would you mind if I looked at that pocketwatch you obtained for a moment?"

"How did you-" I started to asked.

"Read your blog," he replied.

Oh. Duh.

"Alright," I said, drawing it from my pocket. "But look with your eyes, not your hands."

"That, I can do," the man chuckled.

I dangled it in front of him. He just sat there facing it for a minuted. His face slowly grew into a frown, and then a grimace. He then lifted a finger and tapped it a couple times. I decided to let that slide, since he wasn't straight up snatching it from me.

"Not quite sure what it is," he said, "But there's something wrong with this thing."

"Really?" I asked.

"Keep it close," he warned me. "Don't let it fall into the wrong hands."

Alright. Cryptic...

"So wait," I said. "Did we steal something important from the Slenderproxies?"

The man shrugged.

"Maybe," he said.

"Brother," the girl said quietly. "It's getting late..."

The man checked his watch and stood up. The girl did too, slowly.

"I'm sorry, but we should really be going now," he said.

"That's fine," I said. "Thanks for the advice, man."

"No problem," the man said, walking to the door, with the girl close behind him. "See you around."

"Wait what's you name?" I asked.

"I'll tell you later," he said.

Then they left. I went back to the table. Terrence had already finished off the poppers. Dick...

"No sex tonight?" Ciel asked.

"Nah," I said. "I'll score next time."

We finished our food, then Ciel ordered me to rent us a couple rooms. One for her, one for me and Terrence to share. I reluctantly agreed. The second floor has ten rooms for rent, and a semi-decent price. I got the keys for rooms six and eight. As I did, Sal informed me that one of his night shift employees, Keran, was asleep in room three, and asked me to wake her up. I obliged, and went upstairs. The upstairs hallway is set up with the doors to all the odd numbered rooms on one side nd the even number ones on the other. I went to door three and knocked. There was no response, so I knocked agin.

"Jus sec!" came a tired sounding voice from the other side.

The door opened up, and I saw the inside of the room. There was a woman lying on the bed, and I caught sight of several glistening threads extending from the fingertis of her right hand, opening the door, before retracting and vanishing back into her fingers. Weird, but I guess I've seen weirder.

"Um," I said. "Sal sent me to wake you up."

"Wha?" she grumbled, glancing at the clock. "Oh, shit"

She kind of tripped out of bed and fell to the ground before getting back up and hurredly running to the closet.

"I slept in!" She said. "Thanks for telling me! Close the door, please."

"Um, right," I said.

I closed the door and went to room eight. Ciel was in room six. Then I started typing this. nd now I'm gonna go to sleep. Tonight was interesting...

The Name's Terrence

Successfully guessed Justin's password. Nice.

So... yeah. I'm Terrence. Terrence McCleary.

I made it to the hangout today. As expected, Justin was there. Good thing, too, as I needed to talk with him.

He was in the training area, swinging around his training weapon. What I refer to as a "training weapon" is actually a barbell with about 25 pounds of weight on one end. The reason Justin can wield his scythe so well is because he swings all that weight around on a regular basis. Actually wielding something like that in a real fight would get him killed, but it's good for working out his muscles and getting him used to the feeling of wielding a pole weapon that's weighted on one end.

"Hey, Reaper," I greeted him.

"You," he replied, continuing his training.

"How you feeling?" I asked, making my way over to a rack of bowling pins we keep around for target practice.

"Oh, you know," he said. "Desperately trying to ignore my emotions by working out a bunch."

"Naturally," I replied.

I grabbed one of the bowling pins and threw it towards him. He swung his barbell quickly, knocking it aside. I continued to throw the rest of them at him, and as usual, he managed to block them all. Almost got him with a few of them.

"Strike," he panted, letting his barbell slide from his grip and hit the floor.

"Oh, please," I smirked. "That was a spare at best."

"Up yours," he said, grabbing a water bottle and splashing some of it on his face before taking a swig.

"Where's Ciel?" I asked.

"Packing," Justin replied.

"So she already told you?" I asked.

"That the police haven't found any incriminating evidence, but there's still a serious risk?" he said. "Yeah, she may have mentioned something about that."

"Maybe slaughtering all those people with a scythe was a bit much?" I said.

"Coming from the guy who tossed a cocktail into the den?" He replied.

"Fair enough," I said. "Subtlety is not our strong suit."

"That it is not," Justin sighed.

"So who's leaving first?" I asked.

"Ciel's planning to leave late tonight," Justin said.

This isn't the first time we've done this song and dance. Whenever there's a risk of being caught by the local police, we bail from town. Never together. We pick  new town, then we all leave at separate times, taking separate paths, then we meet up again in the newly selected town. Timberwolves are reckless, and we generally don't fear death, but we're not dumb enough to get caught by cops.

"I've got most of my shit packed already," Justin said. "Speaking of which, can you handle my bags for me? Can't exactly carry them on my bike."

"Yeah," I said. "My vans big enough. Should I pack up all our training stuff?"

"Sure," he said. "Let's a good sparring match in first, though."

"Good idea," I said.

I picked up a padded escrima stick, and Justin picked up his sparring scythe, which was basically just a foam bat and a bo staff duct taped together. We stood across from each other and started sparring. Justin's good with a scythe, but I know most of his tricks, so I can avoid them for the most part.

"So when do you plan on leaving?" I asked him.

"Tomorrow afternoon," he said. "Already talked to my landlord. Got my deposit."

"Alright," I said. "I swing by in the morning to grab your stuff.

"Help yourself to the fridge," he said. "I'll have to throw that milk away before I leave if we don't finish it off."

"Sure thing," I said.

He finally caught me off guard and scooped my legs out from under me, sending me sprawling to the floor.

"You know your supposed to slap out when you fall backwards, right?" he asked.

"Shut up," I said, sitting back up. "Good match."

"Thanks," he said.

We heard a door creak open and Ciel's voice call out.

"I saw your vehicles here! What are you idiots up to?"

"Getting some sparring done," I said.

"What brings you here?" Justin asked.

"Getting the rest of our stuff," she said. "Terrence, you've got the toys, right?"

"First of all," I said. "They're not toys, they're training weapons. And yeah, I'll take care of them."

"Good," she said, opening the mini fridge. "There's still water bottles here! Hurry up and drink this shit!"

She removed all the water bottles and left them on the floor as she unplugged the fridge. She then started dragging it outside to her car.

"She's in a good mood," Justin said, grabbing a couple of the water bottles and tossing me one.

A couple minutes later, she came back in and started folding up the cheap table and chairs we keep here.

"So," I said. "I had an idea."

"What is it," Ciel sighed.

"Well, we're leaving town," I said. "And it's getting pretty close to the holidays..."

"What are you going with this?" Ciel asked.

"Why don't we meet up at Sal's later?" I suggested. "Get some drinks? We haven't been there in a while."

Sal's is an inn/bar. A servant bar. There are several like it. It's a place where servants like us can go to relax. Take a load off. Get shitfaced on delicious beverages. Now, getting groups like Timberwolves and Slenderproxies together may seem like a bad idea, but Sal has a very strict "no fighting" policy. One which he is very much able to enforce.

"That sounds good," Justin said.

"Fine," Ciel said. "Wednesday night."

"Alright," I said.

We then went over our plans and went back to our respective homes. Though, I guess they won't be our homes for much longer. I'll miss this place...

RIP

We spent most of the day digging a deep hole. It was pretty sloppy, considering none of us are professional gravediggers, but it would do just fine. We don't exactly own any caskets or anything, so we wrapped him up in some old sheets and gently lowered him into the grave. Not the best way to bury someone, but Greg never cared much for big fancy ceremonies. Still, I feel like he would've wanted more than... this...

The gravestone was basically just a small sheet of scrap plywood that Ciel carved some writing into with a knife. All it said was “here lies Gregory Garland” along with a crude carving of the Twin Triangles. That's our symbol, by the way. Two triangles overlapping with each other to form something that looks like a pair of hourglasses.

We filled the hole back up and stood around it. The sun was setting by this point.

“Good bye, Greg,” Ciel said. “Embrace the Archangel.”

She turned away and walked back to the hangout.

“We're gonna miss you, mate,” Terrence said. “Embrace the Archangel.”

Then he, too, turned and left. I waited a few more minutes, trying to put together what I wanted to say. I took a seat at the edge of the grave, looking at the makeshift gravestone.

“Remember the old church?” I asked him, knowing he couldn't hear.

Why do people do that? Talk to graves, I mean. I know I was doing it myself, but I can't help wondering what it was all about. He couldn't hear me, but I still fet like talking to him, as if he might actually be there.

The old church was one of our old hangouts. We'd moved on since then. Kind of had too, since we've moved on to new towns several times since then.

“It was a nice place,” I said. “The new hangout's a bit better furnished, though.”

I sighed.

“It's gonna feel a bit empty without you, man,” I said. “All of those times we've clashed with other servants, I never expected them to actually get to you. This blows...”

I pulled myself back to my feet and stretched. I looked back at the plywood and wiped away some of the tears that were beginning to form.

“Embrace the Archangel,” I told him.

I turned around and went back to the hangout. Ciel was counting out the goods we had stolen the other day, and Terrence was throwing together some pipe bombs to take his mind off things. I walked past them both, to our little training area, and began working out. About an hour later, Ciel finished splitting everything up and gave me my cut. I took it and headed back to my apartment. It's been a long couple of days. I'ma get some sleep now.

My Name Is Justin

I got a call at 1 P.M.

I woke up and glanced at my clock. Realizing I had slept in, I snatched my phone off the pillow beside me, but it was already too late. I'd missed the call, which had gone to voicemail. I glanced at the caller ID and groaned upon seeing Ciel's name on the screen. A few seconds later, my voicemail notification went off. I played it, and the familiar sound of my teammate's voice played over the speaker.

“Damn it, Justin!” she snapped. “You'd better not be in bed still, you lazy fucking cunt! Get up! We need you here!”

Good ol' Ciel. Such a way with words...

I sighed and gave her a call back.

“Hey, Ciel,” I yawned once she answered.

“Did you just get up!?” she snapped. “Get over here!”

“Sure thing,” I said. “Just gimme, like, 30 minutes.”

“You have 5!” she said, hanging up.

I sighed again, and attempted to shove my phone into my pocket, before realizing that I was still in my pajama pants, which have really tiny pockets that I couldn't hope to fit anything bigger than a switchblade in. I slid them off and pulled on the same jeans I had worn the day before, and probably for the past week. I should probably switch to a different pair soon. Eh, it can wait a couple more days...

I dragged myself out of bed and made my way to the bathroom. Knowing that I couldn't possibly make it to the hangout in 5 minutes, I wasn't gonna bother hurrying up. I looked myself over in the mirror. My hair was a frizzy mess, but I guess that's to be expected when you grow it down to your shoulders. I'd have loved to take a shower, but I could only test Ciel's patience oh so much. So instead I splashed some water in my hair and pulled it back into the best ponytail I could, then splashed some more water on my face and armpits and applied some deodorant. I could wash up for real later.

I returned to my bedroom and, ignoring my closet, grabbed a t-shirt off the ground and pulled it on over my undershirt. I grabbed my biker jacket off the corner of my twin bed and put it on. I then walked to my kitchen and grabbed a Monster from the fridge. No time for a real breakfast, and I wasn't hungry anyway, so an energy drink would have to do. I cracked it open and chugged it quickly. I then grabbed my scythe that was leaning against the wall and slid it through the straps on the back of my coat, where it fit into place perfectly.

I walked out the door, taking note of the slip of paper taped to the outside. Something about pest control coming by sometime. I crumbled it up and shoved it in my pocket before making my way to the apartment's parking lot. I started up my motor bike, strapped on my helmet, and got going.

I arrived at the hangout significantly later than Ciel wanted. I parked my bike outside and went inside. Naturally, everyone else was already there. I suppose I should get to introductions...

Let's start with Ciel. She's an abrasive redheaded girl. She generally serves as our team's medic, which is good, because we get hurt a lot. It's also safer than going to an actual hospital. She's also pretty good at picking locks and she can handle herself pretty well in a fight.

Then we have Terrence. He's a lot more relaxed about things than Ciel is. He's a nice guy. Pretty quiet. He knows a lot about pyrotechnics.

Then there's Greg. Greg is Greg.

“What took you so long!?” Ciel demanded as I walked in.

“It's a long drive from my place,” I said. “Get off my back...”

“Morning, Reaper,” Terrence said, stifling a yawn. Guess he was tired too.

Greg gave me a short nod in greeting, and Ciel crossed her arms and glared at me angrily.

“You're face is gonna get stuck like that,” I told her.

“Good,” she hissed.

“So what's up?” I asked.

“Greg, explain,” Ciel said.

Greg stepped forward.

“I have good news and bad news,” he said. “The good news is, I found a proxy hideout.”

Oh goody. Slenderproxies. We sort of have a rivalry with them.

You see, me and my group of friends are Timberwolves. There's a lot of Timberwolves out there. All over the place. Our little group is just a small team of them. The Slenderproxies are like a rival gang to us. Their boss is a tall faceless guy in a suit, ours is a shape-shifting angel in a gas mask. We're just far too different to ever get along.

“So what's the bad news?” I asked.

“They're based in a residential neighborhood,” Greg said. “We'll have trouble engaging them without drawing in unnecessary attention.”

That could be a problem. We're not exactly a team of stealth experts.

“So are they worth engaging?” I asked.

“Depends,” Ciel said. “Does a safe full of cash and goods sound worth it to you?”

“Go on...,” I said.

“These guys are loaded,” she said. “Loads of valuables ripe for the taking.”

“Dunno about that,” Terrence said. “'Ripe for the taking' generally implies that it'll be easy to take it from them.”

“So what's the plan?” I asked.

“Stake them out,” Greg said. “Wait for them to leave.”

“Then bust in and steal all their shit?” I asked.

“Pretty much,” Ciel replied.

“How many?” I asked.

“I counted 13 men,” Greg said. “Could be more in town, somewhere.”

“Great,” I said. “So when do we head out?”

“We should have been gone already,” Ciel said. “But someone had to fucking sleep in today!”

“Let it go, would ya,” I sighed.

So the next several hours consisted of us sitting in a car down the street and waiting for the proxies to clear out. There were a few cars parked outside the house. Over the course of those several hours, the proxies filed out of the house, got into the cars, and drove off. Once all the cars were gone, we drove closer, got out of our car and approached the house.

“I doubt they'd leave their loot unattended,” Greg said. “We shouldn't be surprised if they left a few people behind to guard it.”

“Got it,” I said, as we made it to the front door. “You guys might wanna step aside.”

I grabbed the door knob and tried to turn it. As expected, it was locked. So I vigorously shook on the door, making as much noise as possible. I heard some shouting inside, followed by movement. I drew my scythe and raised it above my head, waiting for the sounds of people to reach the front room, beyond the door. Then I swung, plunging the blade through the door. I quickly drew it back out and jumped to the side. Just in time, too, as the men inside immediately opened fire, shooting through the door at where I had just been. I kept quiet and waited.

“Did we get 'em?” said a voice from inside.

“I don't know!” snapped a second voice. “Go check!”

There was some quiet bickering before one of the men opened the door and stepped outside. I stepped in front of him and swung my scythe in a broad arc, severing his head. I could see the other man inside, panicking as his partner's body fell to the ground. I charged toward him, swinging my scythe straight up. The blade met with his jaw before he could properly aim his firearm at me, and he went down.

I took a stance, with my scythe in a reverse-grip behind me, and looked around quickly, prepared to strike at anyone else who might be there. But I seemed to be alone.

“We're clear!” I called out.

The others entered through the damaged front door, weapons drawn. Ciel and Terrence both carried daggers, while Greg armed himself with a small pistol.

“Killed them both?” Terrence asked, looking at the body beside me. “Nice.”

“Stay on guard,” Greg said. “Just in case.”

“You're an idiot,” Ciel said, scowling.

“You're just jealous,” I said. “They had silencers, but I'm sure someone on this street heard that commotion.”

“We should hurry then.” Greg said. “Terrence, Ciel, find the safe. Quickly. Justin and I will stand guard here.”

Terrence nodded, and they both got to exploring the house. Greg nodded to me.

“Watch this door,” he said. “I'll keep an eye on the back one.”

“Got it,” I said.

It was a few minutes before I heard a loud BOOM from upstairs.

“What was that!?” I called up to them.

“Just getting this thing open!” I heard Terrence shout back.

“You found it!?” I asked.

“Yeah!” Ciel replied.

“Good!” Greg called out. “Pack whatever you can and let's go!”

“Already on it!” Terrence said.

As they got to work upstairs, I heard the sound of machine gun fire from the back room, accompanied the the sound of Greg crying out in pain. I rushed over to the doorway to see Greg's lifeless body on the floor, with a proxy standing over him, removing the empty clip from his weapon. My eyes met his.

“You killed Greg!” I snarled. “You son of a bitch!”

He quickly made to grab a new clip from his belt, but he wasn't fast enough. I rushed toward him, catching his throat with the arc of my scythe. I shifted my grip on the weapon as I darted behind him and drove the heel of my foot into his back. I pushed him away from me as I pulled the scythe toward me, causing the blade to slice through his neck, parting his head from his shoulders.

“What happened!?” Terrence said, as he and Ciel made it back down the stairs, both their backpacks full.

They both saw the bodies of Greg and the decapitated proxy and stepped back in alarm. I partially lifted Greg's body and dragged it over to them.

“Get him to the car and go!” I demanded.

“But why?” Ciel asked.

As she spoke, a pair of black portals tore open near the back door. I turned to face them and took a fighting stance as two proxies stepped through.

“Because they're coming back,” I said.

I swung my scythe in a wide arc, knocking the guns from the proxy's hands. Ciel and Terrence, no longer questioning me, lifted Greg's body and got to the front door as quickly as they could. I swung my scythe again, plunging the tip of it into one of the proxy's temples. The other one made to pick up his gun again. I pulled my scythe from his friend's head and turned my attention to him. He attempted to aim his gun at me, but before he could, I hooked the arc of my scythe behind his leg and pulled it forward, throwing his balance off and sending him sprawling to the ground. I lifted my scythe high and then plunged it into his chest, finishing him off.

I ran back into the front room, but 3 more portals opened between me and the door. More proxies stepped through. A couple more appeared behind me. I guess these ones couldn't afford firepower, because they all armed themselves with baseball bats and knives.

“Out of my way” I demanded.

They all charged at me. I swung my scythe in every direction, allowing the heavy blade's momentum to carry it. The proxies backed up a bit as the sharpened blade cut into their arms. I dispatched 4 of them in a series of quick slashes, cutting open their throats and torsos. Those 4 fell to the ground, dead, while the remaining 1 managed to step back enough to collect himself before rushing back in, swinging his bat. I quickly got into a defensive stance and blocked his attack with the pole of my scythe before stabbing him through the chest. He slumped over and I threw him to the ground with the others.

Another portal opened above me, and a proxy jumped through it, trying to take me out from above. I saw it coming and stepped to the side, hooking my scythe around him, and using gravity to assist my swing, I slammed him hard into the floor. He gasped in pain as several of his bones audibly snapped. I stomped down on his back, raising my scythe like a golf club, and took off his head with one swing.

Yet another portal opened up, and a man carrying a sawed off shotgun and wearing body armor stepped through. I dodged his gunshot and slashed at him. He just chuckled as my blade glanced off his Kevlar harmlessly. He wouldn't be laughing long, though. I swung the blade again, piercing into the side of his armor, digging several inches in. He gasped in shock, and I quickly kicked the end f my scythe, forcing the tip of the blade in even further. I twisted it a bit, causing him enough pain that he dropped the gun. I pulled my scythe out, allowing him to fall to the ground, bleeding heavily.

2 more portals opened by the front door, with a couple more proxies appearing through them, wielding bats. I swung my scythe above my head in a couple circles, building up some momentum before releasing it and sending it flying at them. The spinning scythe knocked the weapons out of both their hands and sliced one of their arms. I charged towards them and started throwing punches and kicks at them. I got in a strong punch to the back of the wounded one's skull, killing him, and then I grabbed the other one's head from behind and twisted hard, snapping his neck. I turned back to the rest of the room, where 7 more portals were coming into existence.

“Damn it!” I growled. “When will this end!”

“Justin!” I heard Terrence calling from behind me.

I turned to see him standing a few feet outside the door, with a lit Molotov cocktail in his hand. Seeing where this was going, I snatched up my scythe and bolted out the door. He threw the cocktail through the door, catching the proxies by surprise. We both turned and ran to the car, where Ciel was sitting in the driver's seat, ready to pull out. I could see Greg's body propped up awkwardly in the passenger's seat.

“Come on!” She shouted. “Let's go!”

Terrence got to the car first and threw open the back door. He slid to the other side and I got in after him, slamming the door behind me. Carla floored it, and we peeled off, putting distance between us and that now burning house.

“He's dead,” I said. “Isn't he?”

“Yeah,” Terrence said, glancing uncomfortably at Greg's body. “No pulse. I checked.”

“He's with the angel now,” Ciel said. I could be wrong, but she might have been fighting back some tears there.

With the angel. That's what we're always told. It's been drilled into my head over and over since joining the Timberwolves that those who die become one with the Archangel. Our great master, the Lord of the Fallen. So both Greg and all those proxies I just slaughtered are all with the Archangel now.

But it still feels wrong. We're always reminded by our higher ups that death is some kind of ascension, and that becoming one with the Archangel is a good thing, but something about life coming to an end still bothers me. I mean, Greg's not the first friend I've lost. Rillek, the man who recruited me into the Timberwolves, got killed pretty brutally. And then Daniel... Ugh, I don't even wanna think about that...

It never seems to get any easier.

“Hey,” Terrence said, patting me on the shoulder. “You gave those proxies hell. It's what Greg would've wanted.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I'm sure he would. Did anyone else see any of that?”

“Not sure,” Ciel replied. “We'll have to wait and see...”

“Hopefully there weren't any witnesses,” Terrence said. “It'd suck if we had to relocate again.”

We made it back to the hangout in silence. We moved Greg's body inside. We made plans to give him a proper burial tomorrow. Ciel and Terrence emptied out their backpacks on the table. There was some expensive jewelry, a couple switchblades, a sack of gold coins, a dusty old pocket watch, and several clips of money. None of us were really in the mood to count it all, so we agreed to deal with it later.

We decided to crash at the hangout for tonight. No one really had the energy to go home after all that. We keep a computer here, just in case, so I decided to start writing this, because... I don't really know why. Just because, I guess. Whatever...

My name is Justin Gremori Ferin.

And to quote a video game I haven't really played much...

This is my story.