Post by Mr. C on Oct 29, 2009 22:37:01 GMT -5
“…And that’s why we’re all here, Brett. Do you understand?”
Warrior had just finished telling the tale to the big man of what had happened and why they were here as everyone else looked on quietly. It was pointless to some of them, and the rest simply wondered if he actually did understand. Some eyed him a bit more angrily than the rest and it was quite obvious by the demeanor of the wrestlers seated about this table and just the aura of the room that they were not all as willing to have Cross here as Warrior was.
Warrior had just finished telling the tale to the big man of what had happened and why they were here as everyone else looked on quietly. It was pointless to some of them, and the rest simply wondered if he actually did understand. Some eyed him a bit more angrily than the rest and it was quite obvious by the demeanor of the wrestlers seated about this table and just the aura of the room that they were not all as willing to have Cross here as Warrior was.
“And I am glad that all of ye have made it here, too. I know not of many of you, but if ye’ve survived this long then ye must be grand fighters indeed. Surely Ragnarok does not stand a chance against the likes of all of us!”
“Told you he was crazy…” Vincent said beneath his breath, while attempting to look around innocently and Xplode replied to it by elbowing him hard in the ribs. The situation didn’t call for more of Vincent’s back-talk, nor was Xplode in any mood to hear it. Normally Xplode wouldn’t leave his life in the hands of someone else, and this was no exception. If it came down to it, he’d throw any of them in to the fire to save his own skin. But with Cross on their side, the odds were surely in his favor and he knew just that. If keeping a crazed, smelly Viking around was what it took to stay alive a little longer, then that’s a sacrifice he’d have to make. And if keeping Cross around meant having to shut Vincent's mouth for him, he'd do that too.
But JDV didn’t take kindly to being elbowed and the two began to enter a heated argument, started with James flipping his chair and standing up to The Strategic Assassin. The two shouted back and forth, snarling right in each other’s faces until finally a stern voice from the back of the room spoke up. Far back from all of them, in a secluded section of the room was Lincoln – by far one of the most level-headed men in the room and ever the epitome of your strong, silent type. Since he arrived, Lincoln didn’t say much at all, which was certainly unusual. But it seemed to go beyond just his normal silence – it was almost as if he’d been through the worst of it in this zombie invasion. Something had horribly scarred this already scarred individual.
“Crazy or not, Warrior and Xplode are right, Vincent. We need Brett here. We’re surely the last ones alive. We can’t even get anyone on radio here. This zombie virus has taken over the entire world in a very short time. And I don’t know about any of you, but it’s nearly impossible to wrap my mind around such an idea. Can any of you? I doubt it. That’s why we need Cross here. That’s why we need a man that sees the world differently than we do. Maybe he can think of a way to save us, because he sees this problem in a different way. Whether he’s crazy or not, there’s nothing any of us can do to stop this thing. But maybe he knows something we don’t. Because if you ask me, this whole fucking thing is crazy, and I’d prefer to have a crazy person approach this crazy problem than to sit in this damned arena and rot.”
When Lincoln was done, he sat back in his chair and re-crossed his arms. He said his peace, and that was that. Whether they listened to his words or not wasn’t the point, but he wasn’t going to sit back and listen to them all argue as the world went to hell around them. But the words did strike a chord, and the whole hall went silent. Vincent stepped back and picked up his chair, and Xplode simply stood and shuffled his feet – no one dared to speak. But then, from the other side of the hall came the slosh of a beer bottle or two and a drunkard’s yell.
“Wait… So… so wait. You’re… you are. You. Are. You’re telling me everyone is… is a dead? …Then why are yous guys here!!”
Raising two bottles held in one hand to punctuate his comment, Tom Roberts tried to stand and waddle over to the rest of the competitors but he simply fell down in to a giggling, hiccupping heap. Every man in here had a different way to cope with what had transpired, and apparently The Eh and The Creep had the most coping to do – because they were very far gone. Sitting next to Tom Roberts who was attempting to sit up and having a horrible time at it, The Creep laughed too for a few moments and then stopped, and his face became a wash of puzzlement, too.
“Yeah, really. Why is you are you dead guys here any… whenny… way.”
Again, the room fell silent. Only this time, everyone stared at them for a moment, not sure how to react to the situation instead of feeling ashamed of themselves. But, instead of saying anything to them, everyone in the hall simply turned away and went back to ignoring them, re-focusing on Warrior as he continued his speech.
“Aaaaanyway… That’s about it. So let’s all get moving and barricade this place up! We need to make this place impenetrable! As Lincoln said, we can’t get any kind of radio contact so we’re probably the only ones left on this world. We’re going to have to wait this out until A) We run out of supplies or B) We can finally get radio contact. Now let’s get moving!”
But JDV didn’t take kindly to being elbowed and the two began to enter a heated argument, started with James flipping his chair and standing up to The Strategic Assassin. The two shouted back and forth, snarling right in each other’s faces until finally a stern voice from the back of the room spoke up. Far back from all of them, in a secluded section of the room was Lincoln – by far one of the most level-headed men in the room and ever the epitome of your strong, silent type. Since he arrived, Lincoln didn’t say much at all, which was certainly unusual. But it seemed to go beyond just his normal silence – it was almost as if he’d been through the worst of it in this zombie invasion. Something had horribly scarred this already scarred individual.
“Crazy or not, Warrior and Xplode are right, Vincent. We need Brett here. We’re surely the last ones alive. We can’t even get anyone on radio here. This zombie virus has taken over the entire world in a very short time. And I don’t know about any of you, but it’s nearly impossible to wrap my mind around such an idea. Can any of you? I doubt it. That’s why we need Cross here. That’s why we need a man that sees the world differently than we do. Maybe he can think of a way to save us, because he sees this problem in a different way. Whether he’s crazy or not, there’s nothing any of us can do to stop this thing. But maybe he knows something we don’t. Because if you ask me, this whole fucking thing is crazy, and I’d prefer to have a crazy person approach this crazy problem than to sit in this damned arena and rot.”
When Lincoln was done, he sat back in his chair and re-crossed his arms. He said his peace, and that was that. Whether they listened to his words or not wasn’t the point, but he wasn’t going to sit back and listen to them all argue as the world went to hell around them. But the words did strike a chord, and the whole hall went silent. Vincent stepped back and picked up his chair, and Xplode simply stood and shuffled his feet – no one dared to speak. But then, from the other side of the hall came the slosh of a beer bottle or two and a drunkard’s yell.
“Wait… So… so wait. You’re… you are. You. Are. You’re telling me everyone is… is a dead? …Then why are yous guys here!!”
Raising two bottles held in one hand to punctuate his comment, Tom Roberts tried to stand and waddle over to the rest of the competitors but he simply fell down in to a giggling, hiccupping heap. Every man in here had a different way to cope with what had transpired, and apparently The Eh and The Creep had the most coping to do – because they were very far gone. Sitting next to Tom Roberts who was attempting to sit up and having a horrible time at it, The Creep laughed too for a few moments and then stopped, and his face became a wash of puzzlement, too.
“Yeah, really. Why is you are you dead guys here any… whenny… way.”
Again, the room fell silent. Only this time, everyone stared at them for a moment, not sure how to react to the situation instead of feeling ashamed of themselves. But, instead of saying anything to them, everyone in the hall simply turned away and went back to ignoring them, re-focusing on Warrior as he continued his speech.
“Aaaaanyway… That’s about it. So let’s all get moving and barricade this place up! We need to make this place impenetrable! As Lincoln said, we can’t get any kind of radio contact so we’re probably the only ones left on this world. We’re going to have to wait this out until A) We run out of supplies or B) We can finally get radio contact. Now let’s get moving!”
“Wait… So ye’r tellin’ me that there is no magic a’tall involved in this invasion?”
The man sitting across from Hammer, the leader of this group of warriors, solemnly nodded his head. To him, it was the truth. But despite his sincerity, his deep, fear-filled sincerity, Cross felt something was amiss.
“’Tis true, ‘Ammer. No magic at all. Odin told me true, that we were all coming to this place not to find the source of Ragnarok, but to make a mighty stand against the demon horde. Here, we must kill Hel to put an end to all of this. Only after killing the ruler of Niflehelm will Ragnarok end on this realm.”
Cross raised his eyebrow, but held his tongue. Odin would send one of his own, the God of Midgaard in to a suicide mission? Surely, he had faith in him. It would not even be a stretch to say that he had faith in all of them. But to put them at the brunt of Ragnarok’s assault? That’s faulty planning especially from the war-god. And surely he was not looking to sacrifice one limb of Yggdrasil to save the rest, for that would defeat the whole purpose of aligning them all here. And if that was indeed the case, wouldn’t he have just brought them all to help defend Asgaard instead? Nay, this man was wrong. And Cross would have to keep an eye open for when he fell, for he’d take that opportunity to step up and end things once and for all – alone, as the true defender of this world, as The God of Midgaard.
“Wait… kill a goddess? Kill the daughter of Loki, the supreme ruler of the underworld? Isn’t that… isn’t that a battle where we certainly are against stacked odds?” Spoke up one of the other warriors about the table, echoing Cross’ own thoughts. And the leader spoke back, his voice solemn. For he truly believed the All-Father was speaking to him instead of any of the others, and that he knew best. He took the role of leader out of his own delusions, and was now going to be taking the rest of them down with him, all due to his misguided sense of importance.
“Ay, that’s what I’ve been told. It’s the only way.”
“Only way my ass! Hell, how do I know you even spoke to Odin? Or, let’s take it further! How do I even know that the damn guy is even real? I don’t know about the rest of you, but I think you’re full of shit, Warrior. I bet you haven’t spoken to anyone, and I don’t think you’re fit to lead any of us, let alone lead the fight against Hel! Come on, brother. We’re leaving. Better to take our chances outside of this damned unwelcoming hall where we’re not simply trapped rats waiting for the slaughter!”
And the two brothers got up loudly from the table, flipping the chairs behind them. Angrily, they go to storm out of the hall, but as they get to the massive doors, they are blown inward by a gust of wind that splatters the two foolish warriors. Their screams were cut short by the sounds of their organs squishing out from split skin, driven open by their bones snapping beneath the force of the blow. And on the other side of the horrendous scene was the zombie horde groaning that sickening groan and stumbling in to the hall. And standing at the front was the Goddess of Death herself, Hel.
