–
Chapter 9
–
“♫ There comes a time where every rhyme delves into hopes and fears, and my midnight cries add to the lies I tell myself in my book of TEEAAARRSSSSSS!! ♪”
“WOULD YOU ABSOLUTELY SHUT UP?!” I bellowed at the deadsperado, thoroughly infuriated by his incessant singing which had lasted for almost a full five minutes as I and the party got carried across telephone wire from rooftop to rooftop, heading to the neon glow in the distance. As my wailing pack animal progressed, the glow grew from a haze of colors into a vibrant downtown district, bustling with life and energy. Numerous musical attempts could be heard from beneath my feet - that is, whenever Diero wasn’t making my ears bleed.
And I don’t even HAVE ears.
“Boss, I’ve been trying to tell you- oh.” Diero stopped and dropped the party in a pile. “Weird, I legitimately couldn’t talk for a moment there. All I could do was sing that song that I’ve never heard before. Sounded dumb. Anyway, let’s see where we are…”
But Cordax, being unsatisfied, stalked past Diero as the cadaverous cowpoke went to the edge of the roof and peered off. I watched the yellow lad approach in a huff and snatch the paper from my hands, scanning it for anything suspicious and then flipping it around to show me.
𝓜𝔂 𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻,
𝓐𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓯𝓾𝓵 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓲𝓮𝓬𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓱𝓪𝓭 𝓻𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓹𝓾𝓫𝓵𝓲𝓬 𝓫𝓻𝓸𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓼𝓽, 𝓘 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓸𝓯𝓯𝓲𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓹𝓾𝓫𝓵𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓲𝓮𝓬𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭, 𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓯𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵𝔂, 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓯 𝓲𝓽. 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓶𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓮𝔁𝓬𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓵𝔂 𝓲𝓷 𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓪𝓹𝓼𝓾𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓓𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓬𝓽 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓮, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓘 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓫𝓮 𝓶𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝔂 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓸
𝓑𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓡𝓮𝓰𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓼,
- 𝓥𝓸𝓵𝓾𝓶𝓮
There was a tear in the note with the end of the sentence written on it, the portion I had fed to Diero. This was about the time I realized I was a gigantic idiot.
“Who the heck is 𝓥𝓸𝓵𝓾𝓶𝓮?” Cordax wondered aloud. “And why was a note from him in that police station? Better yet, where the heck are we? And even better than all that, WHAT IS GOING ON?!”
“I would ask that you pipe down, but I don’t think that it matters.” I murmured. “These imbeciles below us seem to be completely numbed by the cacophony of noise. Diero, is there any visible way for us to get down visually undetected?” I peered over the edge of the building I stood upon, looking for some kind of alleyway or shadow big enough to hide the whole group behind.
There was someone shouting into a microphone below as if introducing some kind of prizefighter. I jumped when In noticed someone standing on the building opposite and rammed my elbow twice into Diero’s leg to get his silent attention. He opened his mouth to growl at me for being obnoxious, when he too noticed the figure. In the limited light I could see a wide-brimmed sombrero and some kind of decorated poncho. He appeared to have his back to me, and was hurriedly rubbing something across his face.
“Y ahora, el retador entrando en el ring…” The announcer continued, as a spotlight suddenly traveled in the air. The mysterious figure on the other side of the street suddenly straightened and adjusted his brim.
“¡El Cadáver Tonto!” The spotlight swung down dramatically to illuminate the figure on the roof. All of the party jumped in surprise, however, as the figure on the roof happened to be Diero. I and my deadsperado were caught in the light, while the figure on the opposite roof turned to face me and began having a fit. Below in the street, the crowd burst into an uproarious stream of cheers and applause, excited to see el cadáver tonto in the… flesh.
“BOSS, WHAT DO I DO?!” Diero loudly whispered in my general direction. "WE CAN’T ALL GO DOWN THERE; WE’LL BE TOAST! WELL, YOU AND EVERYONE ELSE WILL, I’LL PROBABLY BE FINE. OF COURSE YOU PROBABLY DYING WOULD MEAN I PROBABLY STOP FUNCTIONING< AND I WOULDN’T LIKE THAT, SO I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO-"
“Shut your dumb face and take me down there with you.” I hissed at him. “I have a plan.”
Grabbing me with one hand, Diero hopped off the building, my hand motioning for the rest of the gang to stay put or I would kill them with an excessive amount of violence - I’m not sure if the message got through, but it’s the thought that counts. The crowd ooed and ahhed as Diero landed on the street, setting me down gently and walking towards a large clearing in the crowd. His opponent stood, a peculiar fellow with muscular hands and a metal collar which seemed to monitor his heart rate. Having a collar for such a purpose seemed excessive, though.
“Recuerda: ¡No patees, muerdas ni ninguna otra maniobra ilegal!” The voice rang out again, no visible sign of the speaker anywhere nearby. “¡Deja que gane el luchador más duro!”
I watched in anticipation as Diero walked forwards, a smug grin plastered on his stupid skull, and got knocked flat by the collar guy in one swift punch. He was back up in an instant, however, but there was some kind of holographic projection of a line between the two fighters. The unseen speaker had called early time, and arrows along the outer edge of the holographic arena directed Diero back to the edge where I sat.
“Hey, buddy.” The voice spoke, an orange light flashing on the edge of the arena. “You sure you’re up to this? That guy belted you in one swing. I mean, we’ve had some lightweights in here before, but yikes. You look like death, pal. If you’re Cadáver Tonto’s stand-in, you’ve gotta step up your game!”
“Never been knocked down by a normal guy like that before.” Diero mused, rubbing his chin. “Is he… y’know, normal and stuff?”
“Our fighters are allowed electronic and mechanical upgrades when they compete in the digital ring.” The voice responded. “He is forced to wear a monitor cuff, however, to ensure he does not silently enhance his own physical limitations during combat.”
“I’d call a steel-boned knuckle enchilada an enhancement on physical limitation.” Diero grumbled. “Boss, we’re gonna need one of your ‘inspirational messages’ to get through this.”
“Way ahead of you.” I replied, having found a coin on the ground and started scratching on the asphalt. I motioned to Diero, and he took a massive bite out of the ground, grinding the street into powder in his powerful jaw. “Y’know, I’d be so offended,” (This Diero reply has been edited for clarity amidst the chewing) “if I actually had taste buds.”
“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, what” The voice reacted, thoroughly discomforted by what was happening. Diero sprang to his feet, marching back through the perimeter of the ring, his opponent rising to do the same.
Now, things were going to get interesting.
–