2Morals and Heroes
Chapter 7
Part IV
Author's Note
One more part to go! Look forward to it! Sorry it's taking me so long, my New Vegas mod is taking priority.
And so we ran.
Tracer had jumped up and grabbed my arm, pulling me up with surprising strength.
"Come on, bobby, now's our chance!" She screamed. "Book it! Follow me!"
I took one look at my friend and refused to leave her behind, I ran with her in my arms. It was a jogger's pace filled with panicked breaths and a bleeding scalp, but I ran nonetheless. And as I ran, I managed a glance back at the cyborg who was holding a new line of defense.
He was standing there, slowly inching back and crying out battlecries. Swinging his blade left and right. Small sparks erupting all across his blade as he swung. He was deflecting every bullet so masterfully, so swiftly, so effortlessly, and returning them to their senders. Each flick of his wrist stopped tens, if not dozens, of bullets in their tracks. I heard a scrambled scream and I knew Genji had hit one of the bastards.
"Kyō no Genji wa bakada!" Genji shouted.
I turned and kept running, trailing behind the swift Brit by no more than a few feet.
Marines were running in between their defensive line, making way for us as we darted by them. I bumped shoulders with one of them and nearly lost my grip on Skylar.
"Corpsman!" I heard as I ran. I met with Tracer behind a truck, gasping and wheezing as I stumbled up to her. She was perfectly fine, save for the blood oozing out of her shoulder.
"You alright, bobby?" She asked, looking back at me with a quizzical eye.
I suddenly collapsed to my knees, staring at Skylar's near lifeless form. Was she dead? Was she alive? I couldn't tell anymore. But she was still bleeding, so if that was any sign I hope it was good.
"Bobby?!" Tracer shouted, doubling back to help me up.
"I'm fine, I'm fine!" I fired back at her, not taking my eyes off her wounds. "I'm just... give me a second!" I gasped, trembling as I struggled to hold her up. Tracer tugged at my arm, trying to stand me up.
"I said give me a goddamn second!" I shot up at her, staring her down with an angry glare. She looked at me, blunk, and then took a step back as I wheezed and breathed.
I turned my eyes back to Skylar, and for a second I just stared at her. How I wish she would open her eyes back up and look at me and tell me everything would be alright. I wanted her to be OK. I wanted her to be alive. I wanted her to survive. And I'll be damned if she doesn't.
I pressed a finger to her wrist, and felt the faint but sure buzz of her pulse. She was still alive, if barely. I knew that she wasn't going to survive long without medical attention. But that was just it: I couldn't provide anything else. My artificer didn't take, and I can't stop the bleeding. Not on my own. I knew I needed to get Skylar help soon if she was to make it.
I stood up, and slowly stumbled to the truck, laying her down on the ground next to it. All while Tracer watched.
She choked on her words, feeling scared to even ask the question. "Is she….?"
"She's alive but unstable." I said, slowly gaining my senses back. The shock of what was transpiring subsiding as I realized that I wasn't helping anyone; no less my friend. "We need to get her medical aid, right now!"
I looked at Tracer, eyeing her up and down.
"You wouldn't happen to know anything about first aid, would you?" I asked her.
She blunk. "Luv, I don't even know wot the big bone in my leg is called."
The femur.
I sighed, falling to my knees again and pressing hard on any of the wounds I could manage. There were just so many of them.
"Well, jesus! Go get me one of the medics!" I demanded, doing my best to remain calm. I was failing terribly.
"You got it!"
And just like that she vanished in a haze of blue. A blue trail lingered where she had been and led right past the truck and off out of sight. In the split of a second, she was off looking for help. Leaving me alone to stop the bleeding as best I could. But I couldn't. The wounds were too deep, too severe for my blood stained hands to stop. I pressed on a wound to her stomach, and blood seeped between my fingers. I pressed harder, but the blood kept coming. It was this wound that was the most severe, the others being little holes in her skin compared to this one. I was amazed that she was still alive, but Skylar was a fighter. I knew she wouldn't give up even now if there was a slim chance at survival.
"I told her not to fraternise…" A voice mumbled.
I gasped, not recognizing the voice, and turned around to look at my assailant, ready to defend Skylar to my dying breath. But to my relief, there stood not an attacker, but a hero. He stood there, staring down at me from behind his green visor. Blade by his side. Hand on his hip.
"I told her to not become friendly with the locals…" He added.
"Excuse me?" I blunk.
"I told her." He continued. "I told her because I knew this would happen." He sighed, striding towards me. "Forgoing the mission to save others…. Hmph…"
"She's just too good natured to leave anyone behind. Damn her heart."
"What the fuck, man?!"
"I hope you were worth it." He continued, his voice dripping with disappointment. "She could've jeopardized the whole mission saving your ass."
"What the fuck did I do?!" I asked, raising my voice at the cyborg. He was confusing me. I had no idea what I had done or was doing. All I was doing was surviving the hell that is coming down around me and making sure Skylar does the same.
He stopped. For a second he looked at me. Or, perhaps he was looking at Skylar. I couldn't tell. His eyes were obscured by his green visor. I just stared at him. Was I really being talked down to by a cybernetic hero? Was one of my idols really blaming me for this whole mess?
Or was he simply blaming me for something else entirely?
"How is she?" He asked, kneeling next to her and feeling for her pulse.
I blunk and looked at him, dumbfounded by his sudden pivot.
"How is she?" He asked again, his voice lowering as it became clear my reticence wasn't welcome.
I stumbled with my response. "She-she's n-not doing so good. Without, uh, someone who can actually help her I'm afraid she's not gonna make it…." I stammered out slowly, not entirely certain what that was all about. I felt mildly insulted but right that didn't matter much. Not while the bullets were still flying.
He sighed, shaking his head and standing up.
"Without help she will surely not survive. Her pulse is fading fast. Where is Ms…." He paused, glancing at me. "Where is Tracer?" He asked, looking around.
"Right 'ere! She needs yer 'elp!" A familiar voice piped up, and we both turned and looked for its source. It was Tracer alright, leading a medic by his arm. He looked very surprised to see Genji.
"Wha-" He started quickly, Genji's presence imprinting itself on him. "Er….Right, stand back!" He caught himself, understanding his role in this was miniscule in the grander scheme.
Come to think of it, so was mine.
I should just stand back and let the agents do their job. I'd only get in the way, just as Genji said.
The Marine jogged up to Skylar and knelt before her, and set to work on keeping her alive. Meanwhile, I turned over to Tracer and offered her my thanks. Or, at least, I tried to. But Genji shouted loud and clear for Tracer to hear.
"Anata no kokoro o kuso!" He had shouted. "You do realize the grave mistake you've made, Tracer?!" He continued, swinging an arm towards her to emphasise his words.
"Wot're you on about?" Tracer, having been taken aback by the sudden outburst, asked calmly. As if this was nothing
"Because of you, I've lost Widowmaker's trail! Because of you, she has escaped! Because of you, our presence here is known! There are witnesses to our actions! One such as this policeman!" Genji shouted, pointing at me all the while. "All because you couldn't keep to yourself for once, has our mission become jeopardized!"
Tracer gasped at the sudden accusations from what I thought was a dear friend. Or at the very least a trusted comrade. She looked at me, then back at Genji. Then at me again, her lips quivering slowly with what I perceived was anger. I could've been wrong, but if I was in her shoes I'd be angry too.
"And you think me needing your 'elp 'as jeoparwotever our mission?" She countered after a second or two of silence between them. "We're still 'ere! We're still doing our job! We've….maybe 'it a speedbump but it's nothing that can't be fixed! Why are you so mad?"
"Because of you, Tracer! You allowed Widowmaker to escape all because you couldn't allow him…." He stopped mid-sentence, pointing at me again with a robotic finger. "...to fend for himself! Seriously, Tracer! Winston's talked to you about this!"
"And who says I can't make a few friends while on a mission, huh? Who, on God's green earth, says I can't?!"
"The Petras Act, Tracer! The Petras Act!"
"And wot was I supposed to do?" She threw her arms up in the air, countering his volume with a raised voice of her own. My pistol was still in her hands and I eyed it warily. I didn't want Tracer to hold onto it any longer than necessary. "I can't just sit there while innocents bleed and die on the snow around me while I can do something about it!
"You can't save everyone, dammit! You're supposed to do your job quickly and quietly! Else Overwatch risks the world coming down on it!"
"I couldn't have allowed that bobby to…." She stopped, glancing at me briefly before turning her burning attention back to Genji. "Well, I couldn't turn my back on those in need! I took an oath, Genji!"
What was that pause for?
Genji stopped himself, lowering an exaggerated arm and exhaling deeply. He glanced at me, then slowly trailed his gaze back to Tracer.
"Oaths mean nothing when the world has turned against you, Tracer." He lowered his voice, shaking his head all the same and turning away from Tracer. "You may've sworn to defend the weak and the innocent, but kuso. We have a mission, and orders. Following your oath gets you locked away these days, never to see the sun again.."
I glanced between the two, and for a moment I felt like saying something. But I knew I had no place in this argument. I had no say. I was lowly compared to them. Heroes. People who have saved our world countless times. If I had any place to say anything, it'd be by the water cooler bragging about how I met both of them.
If anyone would even believe me...
"Do you understand me, Tracer?" Genji turned back to her, and she definitely looked a bit defeated. She had pondered upon his words and it was obvious they had found merit within even her. She glanced at me briefly, prison time sounding like a pretty terrible time.
Of course, right now, I was obligated to arrest both of them. But I knew why they were here. Tracer had nothing to fear from me. They were here to stop the terrorists in their tracks. I wasn't gonna stand in their way.
Besides, Genji might cut me open if I tried.
"I…." She started, pouting as she spoke. It was clear Genji had upset her. "...understand. I didn't mean for-"
"Apology accepted. But when you return to base, you are going to have a long discussion with Winston. We cannot have these-" He interrupted. But quickly another voice cut in on him.
"You two really gonna have this moment while bullets are fuckin' flying?!" The Marine next to us, having heard ALL OF IT, shouted out. We all turned to look at him and he looked angry. Pissed. He was working on a dying woman and getting shot at all the while a Brit and a cyborg argued over what was right. This was not the time nor the place.
"He's right, y'know? This isn't the time or the place for this kind of talk!" I pitched in, trying to make myself heard between them both. "Now can I have my damn gun back?" I asked Tracer, and she looked at it. She grinned sheepishly as she handed it back to me.
"Sorry, bobby. I needed it though."
"Yeah well I need it more." I said as I checked the magazine. Only a few bullets were missing, but I could do without them. I had two extra clips in my pocket, after all.
"Listen." Genji piped up, stepping towards the cab of the truck. "Widowmaker may've gotten away. But there is no reason Reaper can do the same. I didn't see him among the attackers, Tracer."
Uh oh…
"You need to rush to the Prime Minister's side immediately. If Reaper has a fix on his location, he is in grave danger. Our mission will fail if Reaper takes his life. You know this as well as I."
Tracer froze, and for a moment she stood there processing the information Genji had given her. If Reaper was truly going after the Prime Minister then they couldn't afford to waste time. And I told them just that.
"For the moment, you and I are of the same mind." Genji agreed. "Lena. You must proceed to the Prime Minister's safehouse. There's not a moment to lose!"
"But I don't know where the bloody safehouse is!" She exclaimed. "I've been all over this damn city and I ain't seen 'ide nor tail of anything that seems like a safehouse!"
For a moment they stood there in silence, looking at one another with unsure eyes. Genji lowered his head, and for a moment he looked defeated. Very defeated….
"Kuso. McCree should've conducted more recon…" He growled. "What was he doing the entire time he was here?!" He quietly added with a clenched fist.
They might not've known where it was.
But I did.
It was in all the briefings. In all the conclusions and the meetings. We prepared ourselves for such an event, but we did not actually expect such a thing to occur. We trained. We played war games. We even did mock raids of the safehouse in the event it was breached by a hostile force, us and the S.W.A.T. Team.
But training can never prepare you for all the screaming or the blood.
I looked between the silent heroes, and for a moment I opened my mouth to speak. But I paused, and glanced at the unconscious form of Skylar. I didn't want to leave her side for any reason. I needed to be here in case something went wrong, and gone wrong everything has. She was my friend. My best friend. She would do the same for me.
But when I glanced back at the two heroes before me, both locked in silent contemplation. I saw the urgency that was surrounding them. Every second they wasted was a second the Prime Minister lost. He could be dead even now and we wouldn't even know.
We wouldn't know because we lollygagged here.
If the Prime Minister died, all hell would break loose in England. Public opinion of the U.S. would falter, and relations could break down.
This was exactly what I was nervous about. All the shaking and the cigarettes. This. This is why….
War is a possibility.
I stood there thinking, while the chaos of the Mall reigned in the silence, and suddenly I knew what I had to do.
"I know where it is."
They both looked at me.
"What?" Genji asked.
I looked back at him, stuttering as I did so. "The-the safehouse. I know where it's at."
Tracer's jaw dropped. As if she was just now learning something new. She probably was.
"Wha-" She stammered. "Really? You know?!"
"Uh, yeah."
"Why on earth would you know?!" She exclaimed, unsure why a cop would - for whatever reason - know of a top secret hiding spot for a very important politician.
"We all know where it is!" The medic piped up, turning away from Skylar for a brief moment. "We all trained for a possible attack! We all had to know where the damn safehouse was! Don't act so surprised, Overwatch trash!"
She looked at the medic, then at me. She frowned at his choice of words at the end, and even Genji spared an untoward glance towards the man. I felt it was undeserved, these heroes - especially Tracer - may've saved my life and Skylar's. Tracer's frown slowly sprouted into a grin, her discontent fading as she formed an idea.
I looked to Genji, smugly grinning as I recalled what he had told me earlier.
"I guess I was worth saving, huh?"
He grumbled and turned away, peering from behind the truck towards the front lines. There were only so many Marines, and I wondered how they were faring against the onslaught myself. I wasn't too worried, though. My father was a Marine after all. They are some serious tough customers.
Somewhere nearby, a deafening crash sounded off. Followed by an eruption of more gunfire.
"S.W.A.T. Team's here…" Genji nonchalantly noted, watching the chaos unfold from his safe place.
"Really?!" I asked, relieved they finally made it. All the police officers were gone by now, most having evacuated the civilians with the rest having been caught in the crossfire. I knew that the Marines needed help badly, but help has finally arrived. "Thank God…."
"OK….. OK…." Tracer piped up, having been quiet during the whole exchange. "OK. I got an idea…. Bear with me on this, Genji we need to get to the Prime Minister before Reaper gets 'is grubby 'ands on 'im. The bobby 'ere knows where it is…." She explained, extending her arms wide as if to say "You get me?"
"Right….." Genji turned and looked at her, either fully understanding where she was going with this, or completely failing in that regard. I couldn't even tell. But I knew where she was going with this. And I fully supported the idea.
"Say no more, I'm in!" I volunteered quickly.
"Your funeral, officer…" The medic piped up.
We ignored his comment. "Wait, really? Just like that?" She asked.
"Does it really fucking matter?" The medic yelled at us, turning away once again from Skylar. He was applying a field IV drip to her arm, and I noticed he had gauzed and bandaged the hell out of her midriff. It was stained blood red. "You pitched it, he agreed! Get out of here, go!"
"I hate to agree with the ungrateful, but I do. Time is of the essence." He turned back to us. "But I am afraid I will not be accompanying you two. It seems I am needed here, for even the S.W.A.T. Team is having issues beating back the terrorists."
Tracer was still surprised I'm onboard with the idea. I don't understand why she would be surprised at all, it's a good idea.
"Listen, I'm the only one who's willing to help that knows where he is. Either I help, or he dies. To serve and protect, and while he's in my city I'm gonna do everything in my power to protect him."
Tracer looked surprised I even had said that, but it was true. The Prime Minister was in my city, in my jurisdiction. I always did my job right and proper, and I wasn't gonna falter now. Not even when the danger was high. The Prime Minister wasn't just counting on me. I realize now that England and America were counting on me.. It didn't take a rocket scientist to understand I was the cog, and without me the wheel would not spin.
"What about your friend, there?"
"Oh my God, did I fucking stutter?!" The Marine shouted at us, but we chose to ignore him.
"She'll be fine. She's in capable hands I'm sure."
"What're you gonna do then Genji?"
Genji flicked his blade to the side, and looked down. I could only imagine what was going on in his mind.
"I'll end this little game…"
She paused, and quickly she understood what he meant. He went into danger, and there was a high risk associated with it. I myself was unsure if he would leave unscathed. But he's Genji. If anyone could dance between the bullets, it would be him. I knew he could do it, and I wasn't worried.
"Genji…. Be safe." She ran up and embraced him. For a second he stood there, unsure of what to do. And then slowly he returned the gesture with a hug of his own. "You still owe me that brandy, y'know? I wanna collect later." Tracer smugly quipped, grinning as she broke away from the hug. Their argument having faded away into obscurity as the memories of their friendship made a return.
How delightful.
"I am a cyborg of my word. You will see that brandy in time." He joked back, half serious half not. I had no clue what the brandy was all about, but it must've been an inside joke between them…. Perhaps.
"Now go, keep the Prime Minister safe!" He baded us. "Hurry!"
"Come on, bobby!" Tracer grabbed my arm and pulled me forward. "Lead the way!"
We turned and ran, escaping the chaos of the Mall. We turned down an alleyway and, foot in front of the other, we ran. I could only hope that the Marine could save Skylar. I wanted to remain by her side but I was the only one Tracer could count on to get to the safehouse. She didn't know where it was. Skylar would understand…. I hope.
And I heard only one thing as we ran.
"RYŪJIN NO KEN WO KURAE!"
We crept silently through the hallway, passing body after body after body. Marines and Royal Guards both. Keeping closely to the wall, and eyeing each body we passed with uncertain eyes. Step after step, foot in front of the other, we kept going. I stopped briefly as I stepped upon a body, and after eyeing him up and down a second - a Royal Guard - I stepped over him. I couldn't help but gulp as I questioned what happened here.
"His safehouse is apartment thirteen-B. On the left further down. We're almost there." I said slowly. I was counting the dead in my head and so far I counted fifteen bodies. Not a single corpse more. "I'm not seeing any attackers among the dead…" I noted.
"Yeah, wot gives?" Tracer quietly remarked, stooping over to check the lifesigns of the Royal Guard I passed over. Just as I had suspected myself; dead.
"As dead as disco…" She added.
"I guessed as much. None of them are moving."
"He won't be needing this then, will he?" She said, and I turned to look back at her. She was holding his rifle, checking the magazine and even admiring the weapon's looks. She noted my stare. "Wot?"
I shook my head and continued onwards. "Nothing."
As we approached the door, the bodies began to thin out. They were mostly concentrated at the far end of the hall, where one would normally ride the elevator up. They had held their position by the elevator's door, and paid dearly for their resistance. Whoever had killed them had shown no mercy nor remorse. Marines and Royal Guards both. No one was spared.
And I have a bad feeling I know who did it.
I've been in gunfights before. Sure. I don't shake during those times, and the feeling was distant even now. But despite that I was scared. Very much so. I tried hiding it because I was in Tracer's presence and I didn't want to shake her confidence in me. But I was scared, and I think it bled into the air just a tiny bit.
I think it did because as we neared the room, she stopped me. Grabbing me by the shoulder and turning me around. "Listen, you can go. You're needed elsewhere. I can 'andle this myself. Thank you."
I stood there and sized her up. She was a small woman, smaller than me. Skinnier than me. Armed with a rifle with one magazine and no more. I was wearing a vest, and she a torn and bloodstained parka. Nothing more. I refused to believe that she could handle the Reaper by herself. Perhaps I was misjudging her, but with only one magazine and the power of time travel against a man who can pull shotguns out of his ass seemingly endlessly, I just couldn't believe it when she said she could handle this.
"No."
"Wot?" She looked surprised. "You-you do realize Reaper is around here somewhere. If he could do this to fifteen trained soldiers, think what he could do to a measly bobby."
"Exactly. Think about what he could do to a measly Brit. You'd be going at him alone and I can't let you do that, and I can handle myself fine. Besides, if Reaper is here I have to bring him in. It's my job."
"Besides, I like my odds. I'm being backed up by the Tracer." I chuckled.
She looked at me, up and down left and right and humming to herself a low tune as she judged what she was looking at. She knew I was right, I knew it. She knew she wouldn't have a chance alone at stopping Reaper. This wasn't like the old days where she and her crew had limitless resources. This was the day and age where Overwatch was a terrorist organization in the eyes of the people and governments. She couldn't take Reaper on alone, she knew, I knew, and even Reaper knew it. She knew she needed my help.
And she accepted this fact with a shallow grunt followed by a simple order.
"Well, keep up then." She said, skipping ahead slowly. After a few feet she stopped and turned back to me. A serious expression dominating her face. "But, lowkey, if you wanna 'elp, don't try to arrest the maniac. You take the limey bastard down. Don't stop. Don't think. Or you're dead. 'ear me?"
"Get back you manky dog!" Someone shouted angrily, and we looked to the source. It was the apartment room we were heading for. The voice was familiar and it sounded as if he was in danger, and so we rushed over as fast as we could.
"Quickly, we don't have much time!" She shouted as she ran for the door. She blunk, out of sight for a second in a haze of blue and sent even me into a stunned silence until she quickly reappeared at the door, rifle in hand, determination on her face. She reared up and gave the door a good kick, only to lose her balance and stumble backwards into the wall behind her with the force she gave.
"Bloody 'ell…" She muttered as she stood herself up.
I took her spot and looked at her as she stood up. Then she got behind me and nodded and said "Let's go!"
I brought my pistol up and kicked the door open, rushing into the room yelling at the top of my lungs.
"B.P.D.! Put your hands in the air!"
"Wot he said!" Tracer added, rushing in behind me rifle raised and primed on her target.
And what we saw was enough to make any rookie drop their weapons and head for the door.
The Reaper was there alright with his back to us. There were shotguns lying on the ground by his feat, and he was holding something in front of him. I stepped forward to get a better look and to my horror it was Lieutenant Ackles, and Reaper had him by the throat. He was strangling the poor man.
"Where. Is. The. Prime. Minister?!"
"Don't….stand….there!" He tried uttering out, but the maniac's hands wrapped around his throat kept him from saying much. "Shoot! Shoot!" He gasped out, and Reaper responded by ramming him against the wall and clenching his fingers tighter around the Royal Guard's throat.
I wasn't gonna oblige, for I risked hitting Ackles if I fired.
"Let the man go or we will shoot!" I threatened.
"Bollocks to that!" Tracer countermanded me and she rushed forward in a dash of blue, disappearing for a split second and reappearing in the air above Reaper, she brought the butt of her rifle down on his head and sent him reeling to the floor. Ackles crumpled to the floor into a mess of gasps and grunts as he skittered away from the confrontation.
"Bloody 'ell!" He coughed out, scrambling to get away.
Tracer didn't have time to celebrate her small victory for Reaper was quickly upon her, he got up one one knee and grabbed her by the throat and chucked her aside. She flew across the room and slammed against a wall - nearly going out a window - and slid to the floor with a rough impact as she gasped for air.
"Annoyances!" He shouted before turning towards Tracer and stomping forward. I leveled my pistol and stopped him, shouting at him a warning while keeping my weapon trained on him. I was ready to take this bastard down without hesitation.
"Take another step and you're history, pal!"
He stopped and looked at me. His head rolled to the side slowly, and I heard a low growl as his gaze burned into me.
"You again…." He noted, his voice low and unsettling. "I thought I killed you."
"Get down on the ground with your hands behind your head. Now!" I ordered, taking a small step forward.
He only looked at me and shook his head, chuckling menacingly all the while.
"And what makes you think you're gonna get what you want?" He asked, raising a shrug as he turned to face me fully. "You're nothing but a coward, officer. A coward and a fool."
"Last warning! Give up or I will take you down!"
"I am The Reaper." He cackled, stepping forward. "You only dream of taking me down. Let me crush those dreams into a soggy paste!"
He tried running at me, but Tracer was already ahead of him by a mile as she dashed forward, blinking through time and appearing above him with her rifle raised; ready to strike once again.
"Wots that?!" She jested as she struck him over the head again with the butt of her rifle. He tumbled to the floor like a sack of rocks, falling to his hands and knees as he grunted a deep grunt of pain. But Reaper wasn't ready to give up. Not yet, not now, and as Tracer landed behind him he threw a kick at her which struck her on the knee. She fell to a split, screaming as her leg dislocated from its socket.
"You bloody gash! Oh my God!" She screamed as she fell onto her back, cradling her leg.
"Now for you!" Reaper shouted as he rose up, charging me at full speed. I wasted no time in firing off my taser. The pistol fired soundlessly, sending a stinger towards the terrorist. It struck him in the chest, and he shouted like no man I've ever heard.
He shook and shambled, shouting and groaning as the electricity flowed him - coursed through his veins - shaking him to the core and sending him to his knees. He continued to shout pains and slurs as he fell.
"Cuuuuuunt!" He shakily shouted, throwing his arms up in the air as the volts did their magic on him.
All the while Tracer was cradling her leg, screaming as the broken limb sat there. Useless and pathetic, disfigured and bent horribly. I was surprised, with her skinny frame, that a bone wasn't sticking out.
"Bloody 'ell, redo! Redo! Redo!" She screamed over and over and over, pounding the ground with her fist.
That really looked like it hurt.
But the Reaper is getting his dues now, this taser has enough volts to kill a small animal.
Then suddenly Tracer vanished. Only seconds later to return in a splash of blue. Fine and dandy.
She was standing upright, leg in the right position. Pain apparently absent, and she was giggling as she twirled around in place. A stark and happy contrast to the pain the Reaper was in. It was as if she wasn't taking this very seriously.
"Really, Mr. Reaper. You forget." She quipped, striding towards the incapacitated terrorist with small steps. She was chuckling lightly as stood over him, "Wotever you do to me, I can just reverse."
But the Reaper didn't reply. He only shook and convulsed as the volts flowed through him.
But suddenly the volts stopped, and he collapsed fully to the floor with a heavy, thick thud.
Tracer cheered, kicking the Reaper in his side as she did so.
"Nice job, bobby!" She congratulated me with a sharp pat on the back. "Smart thinkin' with the taser." She stood over him, pressing a boot on his back and giggling to herself as she spoke.
"Look at us, taking Reaper down all by our - OH FU-"
He shot up, grabbing Tracer by the throat and throwing her to the side with a heavy flick. She flew fast across the room, and quickly found herself relocated somewhere outside the building as she soared through a window. Glass busted, shards went everywhere. Tracer was nowhere to be seen.
"You always make the same mistakes you English bitch!" He challenged her, his voice growing low and furious. Then he turned to me, clenching his fists tight. "Now you! Die already!"
He sprang at me, charging forward. I fired my weapon, hitting him square in the shoulder. But it did nothing. He just shrugged it off and kept going. I fired again, and the shot went through his belly. But he kept coming all the same. I fired once, twice, again and again. But nothing seemed to phase the monster before me. He rose his fist and struck the weapon out of my hands. Then, without missing a beat, he grabbed hold of my leg and tossed me square across the room. I slammed hard against a bookshelf and collapsed under the weight of the pain that shot through my back.
"Fuck fuck fuck!" I screamed as I scrambled to get up. But I wasn't quick enough. Reaper was upon me in an instant, kicking me in the gut and rolling me over. He cackled as he stood there, and I squirmed trying to get away from him. But I was too slow, panicking too much. He stomped on my gut, and forced more pain to shoot up my body.
"Hagh!" I gagged as the pain bolted through my chest at lightning speeds.
"Try as you might, but there is no escape officer." He taunted, lowering his head to meet mine. "You are going to die. My mask is the last thing you'll ever see. Enjoy it, you bastard."
He kicked once.
"Peace."
He kicked again, I screamed as his heavy foot burned into my gut.
"Loving."
He stomped forward, grabbing me by the neck and bringing me up to eye level. I cowered and squirmed in his grip, punching his arm and trying to resist as best I could.
It was all for naught. He had me here, and if something didn't change, I knew I would die. I tried my damndest to fight out of his grip, but it was too strong.
"Coward!" He finished, dropping me to the floor without hesitation.
I coughed hard, blood flying from my lips as the air escaped my mouth. I tried to speak but the pain was too much. Too hard to handle. I only uttered a pathetic mewl of pain as I rolled over, holding my gut and watching the Reaper out of my peripheral. It was all just too much.
Then suddenly he pulled a shotgun out of thin air, and stepped forward onto my chest.
And as he stood over me, foot pressing hard against my chest, I could do nothing but stare down the barrel of his shotgun. I felt a sense of déjà vu and I gulped, nervously shuffling under his weight. I grabbed his boot and tried to pry his foot off of me, but to no avail. He was much stronger than me, much taller, and much heavier. He cackled as I squirmed. But he didn't say anything. He didn't threaten me. He didn't even get to finish his laugh.
For instead someone else caught his attention. Someone nearby with a voice I very much recognized, but a voice I did not expect.
"Enough with this!" Another voice, one very much British called out and very much male.
"You want me so bad. You can 'ave me, you manky bastard!"
