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Chapter 15
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I looked down at the cadaverous cowboy comatose on the ground beside me. Behind my head I heard a click - far more audible than the one I had felt before. Leveraging as much weight as I could, I swung about, dragging the clod off of the street and into the air, swinging it violently at the individual behind me.
There was a wet, slimy impact, and the furious yellow face of that vile eight-armed monster burned its furious hatred down upon me, solid red eyes, gleaming daggers into my mind. I barely had time to drag Diero’s floppy body over my head before a hail of lead beat down upon it, riddling his back with bullets which shattered into flakes of metal, flying in every direction.
Overtop of me I felt the pressure of a weighted step, and the large monster reeled backwards, silently aiming his guns upwards. A slight peek told me Jethryn and his creepy lower half had tackled the fiend, with the competent part trying to drag the creature down, and the part named Jethryn wrapping his arms around as many of the mechanical arms as he could, which tried desperately to twist their wrists around and plant a bullet in his brain. Such a monumental effort, I thought; how difficult it must be to shoot a grain of rice.
“Hold!” The silver stooge shouted, bolting towards the creature and- oh, no wait, he was running towards me and taking away my wonderful bullet proof shield. Why did he have to be a jerk even when being attacked by a giant yellow blob?
“How on earth-?” He gawked, lifting Diero’s skull and staring in shock at it. Sensing the next move, I rammed myself into the side of his hip to knock him out of the way, as the large creature threw the lower half of Jethryn towards the anodize airhead. Do not equate this action as genuinely caring; I had to imply that I did lest he think I maliciously took out Diero.
Two arms swung to the side to grapple Jethryn’s arm, while the remainder he had been clinging together wrapped around his other. “Change of plans!” Jethryn cried out, trying his best to look over his shoulder. “Dream: HawkflAAAAAAAUUGHH!!”
The large monster had ripped Jethryn nearly in half. My body completely froze in shock; I had no idea how to process what had just happened. Knowing now that this action would seal Jethryn’s fate, I find myself incapable of sleep at night; how can I rest, how can my mind be at ease, knowing that action here might have prevented that from occurring? How will I ever find the means to stop this grief, this silent sickle ripping deep gashes in my heart, pulling my voice from my throat, shuddered sobs and choking gasps forced to fill the void? Were I in possession of the power to rewrite the past I would alter many things, but I would spare Jethryn this unkind card dealt him by this foul fiend and the forces which drove him to act.
One hand caught hold of the arm which still clung to the largest half of Jethryn, while the remainder aimed all seven revolvers at myself and drew back the hammers. Cordax had taken the opportunity to disappear. The silver stooge and myself had no visible opportunity to defend ourselves from the imminent hail of lead.
“Dream…” A feeble voice whispered. “No Mercy.”
The sound of steam rising from a kettle broke onto the scene, shattering the silence. As it grew louder and nearer, I suddenly realized the noise was not the hiss of steam, but the hiss of a living voice. Absolute, white-hot rage, boiling over the limit of reason.
Like a bowling ball of violence the lower half of Jethryn smashed the three of us aside, and I saw with a thrill that the large, bizarre skull of this Dreamer was glowing bright white, mist-like flames licking off its scalp. All the revolvers fired at once, but the bullets melted into red streaks of metal in a flash across his face. I was about to watch someone die, and I was captivated with a thrill of an act of justice being accomplished. Not with the act itself; I was horrified and very shortly after thoroughly disgusted with the method and the notion, but I will not lie and say the excitement was not there.
All the arms emptied their bullets into this thing’s face to zero effect. With the cry of an angry dove, it lept atop the device and bit savagely into the yellow creature’s face, the gelatinous flesh sizzling and bubbling from the heat. It gave no cry of pain, slamming its hands into the avenger in an attempt to repel the assault, but to no effect. No living thing could stop a Dreamer.
The attack grew more and more ferocious, the little thing absolutely decimating all organic substance in the frame, and then turning in a blind fury upon the mechanical components, biting down on whatever could fit into the elongated jaw. Nothing could withstand the intent of the Dreamer, and before long nothing but random scraps and the smell of fried seafood remained.
Chromeboy and myself exchanged flabbergasted glances. The cough of Jethryn brought us both back to reality, and we tore across the street to reach him, he kneeling down at the side of what left of his friend and I trying to focus both on the pair and the still glowing Dreamer which had terrified me seconds ago.
“Jethryn, we can fix this. We’ll get you to safety and figure out how to undo all of this.” Chromeboy kept promising as he tried relocating some of the excess rags to cover the open wound. “Stay with me, okay? You’re not out of the game yet.”
Jethryn didn’t respond, looking up with an expression of resolution. Perhaps he intended to die. I would never find out his intent, however, because Diero decided to take the opportunity to stand up. He sniffed the air and brushed himself off extremely casually, looking about and stopping at the sight of the completely destroyed house.
“Well, I guess that’s one way to accomplish it.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and rolled his jaw. “Say, what’s that vile smell? Somebody been cooking octopus or something?” He turned around and saw Jethryn lying on the ground, causing him to cock his hat downward. “Mighty sorry about that, mister. Anything I can do to help you there?”
The reflective rogue scribbled something on a piece of paper and thrust it towards Diero, who took if casually and chewed it into powder. He suddenly bolted over to Jethryn’s lower half and forced the head of the fiend to make contact with the exposed wound, searing the gash and stopping the loss of bodily fluids. Jethryn hissed violently in retaliation of the pain, and the lower half immediately cooled off as a result. Diero lifted the remainder of Jethryn’s upper half and froze, one hand traveling to his revolver while his eyes swept the area.
I could feel the presence of a hundred eyes bearing down all around me. In the moment it felt as if I was staring at myself from countless angles. The group around me seemed to be suddenly aware of this sensation as well, as they all began turning about to find the source of the feeling, and from every closed door, barred window, dark alley, and shadowed corner approached the Akaku-wearing citizens, braving the danger to investigate what had occurred.
Diero leveled his revolver at a number of them, scowling angrily. Jethryn’s lower half braced in a lunging position. Chromeboy began scanning the sky for a way to escape. Cordax tumbled out of one of the doors, backing away from the crowd with his knife drawn and held underhand.
Why the sudden fear? It was because every Akaku they wore had glowing orange eyes, piercing the darkness. It was because Ghid was now officially watching, officially aware.
And if the rest of these morons’ reactions were correct, officially angry.
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