Kus had no idea when he had fallen asleep on the drive, but he sure as hell knew when he woke back up. The driver had smmed on the breaks and an elbow as cold as death had ground unfortably into the bruises f on his back. What he assumed to be several mier, given his addled state, the trunk ulled open and two sets of hands again grabbed him.
While the grip hurt, all Kus could think about was how simir the hunk of crap car that had carried him here bore such a striking resembo the ohat had almost hit him early that evening. Or was it yesterday now? Idly Kus wondered what had happeo the man that saved him. Nausea from the pain forced the stranger from his mind.
The rain was still ing down, but now the frigid cool of the droplets felt good on his skin. Eyes closed, he soaked in the feeling. He wasn’t able to enjoy the sensation for long, however, as almost before he k the rain stopped ing down as his captors brought him inside a warehouse of some sort. Heavy maery, slightly goo rust, stood in silence along both walls stretg into the distance. A rge factory then. One of the abandoned ones if the rust was to be believed.
Kus felt himself bei down into a metal chair, one far less fortable than the one he had been sitting in the office back at the ic. A hand smacked him fully bato some rude sembnce of awareness. Standing over him was Albrecht, though this time he had that now almost familiar smirk ba his face. Behind him, Kus could just make out the other two Blood Eagles stuffing Dr. Halter into ay steel drum. They weren’t being too gentle about it, and Kus clearly heard the sound of an arm breaking before the rest of the corpse ushed inside. Albrecht followed the dire of his gaze.
“Ah, yes, we talked it over ahat this would be the best way to cover up our meeting tonight.” Kus gestured over at the steel drum, whiselm and Christoph were using rags to wipe away their fingerprints from the outside. “Anger, over what we leave it to the police to determine, drove you to kill der gute Doktor and attempt to hide his body in a nearby abandoned factory,” his eyes came back to Kus. “Tragically, before you could leave, you had an act and died yourself.”
“How…how are you…going to make that stick?” Kus gasped in pain, then nodded down at his purpling arms and the blos that had previously been clothes. “Clearly…I did not… do this to myself.”
“I agree,” Albrecht said, looking down at Kus distastefully. “I did, perhaps, let my anger have a bit too much free rein in the ic.” He turned back to his fellow Blood Eagles. “Luckily I already have an idea on how to cover up those wounds of yours. Anselm, Christoph? Bring the barrels of scrap over here.”
The two Blood Eagles nodded in synd stepped over behind one of the rusted monstrosities to lift small barrels loaded with jagged metal and other pieces of scrap. While not sure what was happening, Kus khat he was quickly ing on his st opportunity to get out of here alive. His eyes darted around the floor near his feet, and then from there to the nearby walls, looking for something, anything that he could use to escape.
“Go on, have a look around,” Albrecht said, voice filled with cruel delight. He gestured at the factory around them. “It’s going to be the st pce you ever see, might as well enjoy it, mein Dummkopf. Here. Let me help you get a better view.”
Before Kus could offer a respohe Blood Eagle kicked him high in the chest, sending Kus flying backward to slide down a ramp he hadn’t see hard, but so badly was he hurt from the earlier beating that only a slightly lroan escaped him. Sliding to a halt, he rolled over on his side.
Ohe room stopped spinning, he looked back up the ramp at Albrecht. Anselm and Christoph now stood at his side, barrels raised high. Even through eyes blurry with tears and pain, Kus could see how rusty and jagged the metal was. As ohey both raised their barrels high, but Christoph was the first to throw. Halfway down the ramp, it bounced, metal shards and shavings flying everywhere. It had been a hard toss, and while some went sliding across the floor, a good amount only smmed to a halt as it pieced into his flesh.
Agony worse than he had ever felt before rushed through him from every cut and gash in his already abused body. Thoughts scattered at the pain. Hope for survival and escape gave way to determination that he would breathe just one more breath, then one more after that.
He blinked away the blood running down his face, the one small scrape of sanity not r at the pain and injustice absently noted how the sed barrel had not yet e flying in his dire.
Kus fixed his gaze back up towards his tormentors, and likely his upih, only to be surprised down to his core. That was when he saw something he had not expected to see.
A man in a familiar, heavy trenchcoat stood tall betweehree Blood Eagles and Kus’ own fallen form at the bottom of the ramp. More startling tharanger who had saved him from being hit by the car earlier was the fact that he stood now with a sword embedded deep in the chest of Anselm, who had dropped his own barrel full of scrap to the floor. Barely did that fact sink in before his savior thrust out his other hand, a long knife firmly in his grip, to dart like lighting for the face of Christoph. A loud crack rang out as the bde vanished between the eyes of the Blood Eagle to bee lodged in his skull.
Adrenali witnessing su ued, one-sided fight roars through Kus to the point he ow focus more fully through the pain to witness his savior deftly weaving aside from the blow of a makeshift club wielded by Albrecht. Stepping back, the man wielding the sword and long knife pulled his ons free, letting the bodies of Kus’ would-be executioners fall to the ground.
With an inarticute scream e, Albrecht raises his metal spar high one more time, only for his oppoo dart in close, faster than he might react. The sword swings down, almost delicately removing the hand that holds the club. A sed ssh by the long kook the Blood Eagle’s left leg at the knee. As Albrecht fell backward, screaming in pain, a final thrust down with the sword took his falling body high in the chest. A sure heart strike if there ever was one.
It was the most beautiful, the most violent thing Kus had ever seen.
The pain came flooding back, adrenaline only able to do so mu the face of so many wounds. The cold was beginning to set in, the vast room around him beginning to fade into vague shapes and shadows. One of those shapes moves with a speed that, even dying on the floor, Kus has a hard time believing.
Rough hands set bdes beside his body as the killer of the Blood Eagles reached out to lift Kus’ head from the floor. Kus’ vision tio darker as he felt a gss vial press to his lips.
“Drink.”
That simple word uttered ione of and demahat Kus not give in to the darkness. Before he k, Kus was gulping down the tents of the vial. A warmth desded down his throat to settle briefly in his chest. It then quickly made its way down his limbs, an itg sensation bumbling up behind it.
“This is going to hurt, boy,” his savior spoke again, one of his hands ing to rest on a rge pieetal that had pierced Kus’ side, “but it’s necessary if you want to live.”
He yahe scrap metal free.
The pain of the shard ing out was almost as bad as it had been going in, but to Kus’ renewed surprise the itg rose to meet it and the wound began to visibly close in front of his eyes. What in the hell was happening here?
After several more bouts of gutwreng pain, the majority of the rge pieces of scrap that had pierced his body were pulled free. The itg sensation had begun to fade, however, and the wounds were visibly closing slower. Before Kus could say a word, another vial ressed to his lips and he greedily gulped the tents.
The several minutes passed quickly, and almost before he k the itg had faded with the st pieetal pulled free from his body. The wounds that covered him from head to toe were closed, already scars, and though he was still covered in blood, Kus felt remarkable sidering what he had just been through. But what the hell was going on?!
Healing potions? Such things of magic were only in legends or mames. There was no way they could exist in the real world. Except, apparently they did. He shifted on the ground, but while he felt sore and tired, the pain itself was gone.
Kus’ breaths came in shallos as he fought off a rising tide of panic. He had questions for the man who had saved him, but givehing that had happeo him, norobably not the best time for the answers. Several deep breaths and turning his focus on the cold crete under him was enough to push the panic down. For now at least.
“Thank you,” Kus said at st, looking up at the face of his savior. “But who are you? Why are you here, and what the hell just happened?”
“All good questions. But first—” the man’s hand darted down to smack Kus full across the face. If he hadn’t already been sure he was near fully recovered, that blow would have set his worries to rest. His ears were ringing, but that was all that he felt. “You, Kus, are a fug idiot.”
Kus wihe words hurting more than the blow.
“I was…I was taken hostage,” Kus began, his voice trembling as the events of the past day really sank in. “By the Blood Eagles. They found out about me from my boss, Dr. Halter, and they used me to access his practice’s ats for the information they taihere’s a war between gangs…”
His hands shook as he mentally reted the whole ordeal, the memories g deep into his mind. “They tortured me… for hours,” he tinued, his voice growing hoarse with emotion. “And then… they tried to dispose of me here…”
The man’s harsh features softerue sympathy crossing his features. “I’m sorry, Kus.” He bowed his head. “I’m thankful I was able to get here in time.”
Kus wiped the tears from his face, then looked up at the man again. “Thank you for saving me. But, who are you, and why have we met before now? You were the one who saved me from being hit by the car, right?”
“I am, but I hadn’t pnned for that. But that is not important at the moment. What is important, is that there is a lot you o know,” the man responded. He stood upright, flig his bdes sending the remaining blood on them across the floor, leaving his ons pristine. Returning them to the sheaths previously hidden under his trenchcoat, he tinued. “But ynorant of much, so there is only so much I share with yht now,” he pulled himself up to his full height. “I am Franz Moritz, an Imperatoria Venator. In yuage, an Imperial Hunter. You, Kus, are who I have been hunting for. I have been trag you for quite some time, across a distance I am not sure you’d be able to truly prehend.”
