LIGHTNOVELONLINE 『Chapter 1: Hotel California』
1:24 PM
It was a hot and steamy day, typical Californian weather. The sun's heatful gaze spared no one in its malicious radiance. All suffered indiscriminately, ranging from sweating excessively to nearing a heat stroke. A semi-busy city was conducting its ordinary day to day life.
Two American strangers in their 20s stepped out of a cramped smelly bus.
One a tall, muscular blonde man with a faux hawk, standing at 6 '2", wearing a red tank top, triangular sunglasses, unnecessarily stylized crocs that look like they were meant for children, and tan shorts. He dragged along a decently sized rolling bag.
His comrade was a shorter, skinnier man standing at 5'8". His crusty green jacket showed its age with hints of tatters and a noticeable musk- the latter of which wasn't helped by the smoldering heat. Underneath that jacket was the man's crimson Hawiian shirt with white tropical trees as its accents. A neat red Bucket Hat hid the man's small fuzzy mohawk; all of it tied well into his eccentric appearance. And for once, the man was wearing shorts. Jean shorts. Jorts. Stapled to his head were black cracked sunglasses that the stranger was rarely seen without. Finally, he wore worn dirty work boots that have shown its age. He carried along a suspicious metallic silver briefcase that was handcuffed to his left wrist.
"Solomon..." started the tall one.
"Its ninety-seven degrees outside.
You should really take that jacket off. I don't understand why you decided to wear it when you knew it was going to be hell out here."
The shorter man shot back a smile, wiping the copious amounts of sweat that pooled about his brow.
"Nah man its -huff- it's fine, really!"
Chad, the tall one, shook his head in disappointment.
"If you faint on me, I'm going to be real upset."
"Don't woorrrryyyy about it! The hotel's just right there. They'll have decent A/C, and its all well!"
"...I don't....ok."
The two of them walked towards the hotel entrance. One that has seen better days, busier days. One that used to house royalty and business executives. One that's regal paint dulled since its golden age. One that had it all. One that had a falling out with business rivals and local natural conundrums. One that had a glowing status for years, before having the misfortune of a single mishap, and now the world looked at it with indifference. One that was swallowed by sin. One that became one among the rest, losing its voice within the midst of the blood of the innocent.
The two inconspicuous men showed up at the front desk. A sweet, short female attendant was doing her job, concentrating on appearing as if she wasn't bothered by the heat but wasn't doing such a good job at it.
Solomon sported his eerily cheesy smile. One that was forced and too friendly, that it screamed unease against those who were greeted by it.
Chad's was a relatively blank yet still bothered face. It wasn't his fault it was 97 god damn degrees outside.
"Let me do the talking" whispered Chad to his compadre.
"Hi there, we're here for the hotel key, we set up our room online under the name Griffon."
"ah alright..."
she typed it in.
"First name?"
Before Chad could stutter and realize that he never asked Solomon the first name, Solomon saved the day with an unflinching solid response.
"Bryan."
"Ah haha, I think I've heard that name before! Let me look it up."
Chad gave a brief glance towards Solomon, annoyed he would come up with something so stupid. Guess that's what he gets for putting the most technologically inept person of the group with setting up things in the computer.
Solomon on the other hand lacked the necessary social skills to understand what he did. He was watching TV that same night and was stricken with creativity. That's all there is to it.
The attendant then answered.
"Alright guys! Your room is 237. Enjoy your stay!"
"Will do" responded Chad.
They both entered the elevator alone.
Chad wanted to say something, but knew his... special friend wouldn't quite get it. Whatever, it's silly, but ultimately harmless.
.
.
.
They stepped out of the old elevator and marched towards their destined room in sync.
They open the creaky door.
There, their business partner sat on the bed with his many briefcases, waiting for their arrival.
A heavy man with a soft roundness to him. He sported an adorable tuxedo, black latex gloves, and well trimmed beard.
"Ah, there you are. Right on time as well."
"Now, let's get to business."
He started unbuttoning his suit; his bare chest resembled a textbook bear chest, with all of its brief yet hairy glory.
"WOAH WOAH WOAH HEY HEY HEEEYYYY WHAT'S GOING ON TAKE IT EASYYYYY" clamored both Solomon and Chad in unison.
The business man looked confused.
"What's the issue?"
"This is... this is not what we agreed to!" shouted Chad.
The businessman tilted his head and looked at his watch.
"OH- my god!
My apologies" replied the business man as he frantically buttoned his suit back up
He motioned for Solomon to close the door.
He did so.
"Sorry, sorry, that's for my 2:30 meeting. You guys are the buyers at 1:30, correct?"
Solomon and Chad both calmed down as fast as they could before trying to carry on as if nothing happened.
"Y-yes," answered Chad.
"Aaahhhh, right right right.
"Welp, won't be needing this!" responded the business man, sliding the white suitcase underneath the bed.
He continued talking while presenting the grey briefcase on the bed. "So, arms right?"
"Here's what I can offer ya."
The two stood across from the bed and studied its contents.
It's surprising, really. For some reason, maybe through the power of optical illusions, or optimized storage engineering, it seemed that the briefcase's insides appeared larger than its outside build. It may have been the extreme heat and the lack of Air Conditioning that the two had a rude awakening about, but in the corner of Chad's eye, he saw the edge of the briefcase blink. Shit, it seemed the hallucinations caused by the heat were starting to kick in, or so Chad thought.
A couple of handguns were laid out in front of them.
The business man started his schpeal.
"A Smith and Wesson Model 29; the type of revolver 80's action heroes and modern cowboys would use. A hand cannon capable of taking down a buffalo in one clear shot. Its loud, its proud, and expensive, but it'll do the job. Alongside it, a Colt official Police Revolver that- much like the hotel, has seen better days. Though it's smaller compared to the beast of a gun right next to it, it's simple and effective. If it was necessary for the police to use it, there's no reason not to buy it. The Sig Sauer P226 handgun is a bit on the ugly side if I'll be honest, but seeing as how its carried by several counter terrorist organizations, you can connect the dots. Colt 1911 chambered in 9mm. Need I say more? And a cute little ruger right here. I'll be honest, this one's more of a toy than anything but- whatever you use these for, this one's just nice to have around to do whatever you do in style- ya know?
Over here I have a... handful of Hand Grenades. Mark 2, pineapple style grenades. You never know when you'll need 'em."
Somehow, the briefcase went deeper. There were two submachine guns on the bottom. The businessman pulled them out as he continued.
"World War II era Grease Gun: its ugly yet simple, humble nature makes itself known. And hey, I've been trying to sell this one for a while so I'll even chip in a little discount. The other one here is a Heckler and Koch MP5K- very compact, as you can tell. 900 bullets getting vomited out every minute. I think you already know that is one hell of a rate of fire. Check it out."
He handed the empty submachine gun to Solomon, while Chad inspected some of the other wares, even smelling the grenades as if they were fruit.
"And finally for my current selection, two shotguns.
This one here's a sawed off coachgun. Cheaper side, it's fun to shoot, enter a room- everything is going to be atomized, guaran-TEED.
And this slick son of a gun- heh I get it, anyway, this slick son of a gun is a Mossberg 500. You-" he said towards Chad,
"You seem like the strong type. I betcha you can easily recreate some action movie shots with this gun one handed!"
Chad received the shotgun and started feeling it out.
Some "hms..." here. Other "huhs..." there as they both looked around and felt the guns.
"So... see anything you like?" asked the Business Man.
"Hm... kinda." replied Chad.
"That shotgun did feel real natural..."
"If I may be honest..." continued Solomon.
"The stuff here is a little small for our tastes...not really in terms of size rather... selection...
But on top of that, it doesn't really help that we're kinda set right like... these guns are cool but-"
Solomon whipped out his own Colt 1911 and started waving it around and showed it off nonchalantly.
"This... this is a part of me, ya know?"
The business man smiled.
"I hear ya, I hear ya."
Solomon replied.
"Sorry, I don't mean to insult your business or waste your time."
The Business man chuckled and shrugged
"Aw c'mon, you won't hurt my feelings. I make a profit off of repeat business."
"Understandable," replied Solomon.
"Do you have anything you want Chad?"
"Uhm...."
"Kinda.
"How much for the Mossberg?"
"600."
"Hm. Alright.
And the Model 29?"
"A thousand."
Chad raised his eyebrows surprised
"Not bad."
"I will say though-" interrupted the Business man.
"It is a big gun. You might want this" he continued as he whipped out a rather large torso holster.
"Only 150. Highly recommend it."
"May I?" asked Chad
"You may."
Chad outfitted himself, testing the holster and how comfortable it was.
"And you said this gun was loud... is that right?" asked Chad.
"Very."
"Sold." agreed Chad in a nonchalant tone.
"Anything you want, Sol?"
"Eh... not really. For myself at least.
Maybe I'll get the plastic fast gun for Liz. Yeah, she'll definitely have fun with that one."
Chad and the business man both looked confused.
"Fast gun... the MP5?" they both said in unison.
"Yeah, the black tiny one."
"Uh... alright... 800" answered the business man in slight disbelief.
"Heard" complied Solomon as he settled down his own briefcase. He unlocked it and sifted through the ocean of wealth within... only to pull out eight dainty hundred dollar bills. He handed them over to the gay business man.
Gay means happy, come on now.
"Here ya go."
"A pleasure" gleefully smiled the merchant.
"Oh right uhm... do you think Edward wants anything?" asked Solomon towards Chad.
"Ehh... yeah... he's got the basics down but I think we should get him a gun- just in case ya know?"
"Yeah.... you think the pistol would be good?"
"It would be good, and way more practical but... you know how he is. If it doesn't fit his regal aesthetic he's probably not gonna use it."
Solomon made a wry face
"Ugh...Hate to admit it but yeeeeeeaaaaahhhhh. I'll get him the other skinny revolvo- Revolver. Bit my tongue." complied Solomon.
"300."
"Heard."
Meanwhile, as Solomon was paying the business man, Chad sifted through his own pocket and picked several hundred dollar bills. His wad of cash dwindled quickly. They both handed over the total to the business man.
"A pleasure" responded the Business Man with the same joyful tone.
"Same dude," responded Chad.
"Oh and- wouldn't you boys need some ammo?"
Both Solomon and Chad looked at each other before slapping their own foreheads.
"Right- Duh!" they both exclaimed.
"You boys are lucky I sell in bulk. Here's what you'll need for the revolvers and pistols, here's some slugs and buckshots for the shotgun, here's for-"
Both of them were getting tired of the bottomless briefcase so Chad interrupted the business man.
"3000 dollars. We mix and match whatever we want."
"Straightforward. I like that" responded the Business Man.
.
.
.
"Now then..." started the Business Man.
"I believe that was all, is there anything else you boys need?"
"Yes, actually," replied Chad.
"Believe it or not, we weren't here for the guns."
"Oh?"
"We're here for the black briefcase."
"Ah."
The business man stood silent for a couple seconds, staring at Chad.
Chad sighed. He took a deep breath before he started chanting.
"𝐄𝐋 𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐇𝐎 𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐎𝐓𝐇. 𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐎 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄."
The business man smiled.
"So you guys are the real deal," he replied with content.
The Business Man switched the grey briefcase on the bed for the black one underneath.
"You know, if you didn't prove yourself, I would've scammed you guys. Lord knows I do business, but I pride myself in honest business. I understand what my customers buy and do with my wares are none of my concern, but this... this is the only time I worry. It's like handing nuclear codes to the mentally unsound; if I'm not careful with who I hand the keys to, there's a high chance I'll get bit along the way. And granted, the same could be said for guns HOWEVER, the distinction lies not only in the nature of business (don't shoot your provider), but in the temporal realm. We may have bullet proof armors and body guards, but in the realm of the unseen and the religious, the mystical and spiritual fuckery that bends the whims of reality, well... if protecting one's self from weapons is hard, imagine the caliber this brings in...So again, excuse the bothering of the password, just a precaution, dig?"
Both of his customers shrugged and replied "Sure" in unison.
"Now," continued the Business Man.
"Pick your poison."
Much like the grey suitcase, a couple of the selections were fire-arm oriented. There were boxes of ammunition that reeked of vinegar. A single typical looking flare-gun with a Celtic rune engraved onto its side. A divine looking AutoMag V, a heavy, thick, slick, hand-gun that screamed professional assassin, along with an ivory grip that screamed for attention. Though it may look pretentious, anyone that looked at it had to admit, it demanded respect. Four slim talismans made out of dried out deer skin; though dried, anyone could tell that they were no older than 5 years. A fancy mardi gras mask that resembled giant owl eyes. A gashful serrated knife salivating for it to be used on some tough flesh; its wicked blade reaching the length of an average forearm. And last but certainly not least, a giant railroad spike with a marking that resembled a Big 6 toed Foot stood out from the rest.
Eyes wide and aghast; though limited in the number of selections, they knew that in this specific case, less was indeed more. Tempted and swayed, not by the typical hands of greed nor anything of such a desirable and worldly vice, the thousand arms of Mara called upon their ill-minded petty temptations. Nevermind thy self, one's self, this wasn't a matter of besting another man for the sake of securing one's ego, nae- NAE, this was a matter of apish violence. Petty reasonings need no explanation when the otherworldly arms tempt thee. Through such simple yet effective means, the enemy of the mind whispered and hushed their shackles; guided by a simple leash, the lust of Man needn't say anything, for it all spoke for itself. No matter how fortified a mortal may be through typical, "logical" reasonings, the other plane spoke, and made itself known.
Chad slurped up a dollop of drool; Solomon couldn't help but... stare.
Chad snapped out of it first and asked:
"Mind...Mind uh- explaining what you got here?"
"Gladly," answered the business man.
"So I think it was the first thing you sensed, with the strong vinegar smell, these are 'holy' bullets," explained the business man, making quotation marks with his fingers.
"As you know, physical objects can't hurt spirits so, with a help of spiritually doused liquid, sprinkling them all over the ammunition, now you needn't worry from either side of the plane."
"Ah... that's pretty handy. How much?"
"500."
"Oh, that's not bad-"
"-per bullet"
"PWAHHHH- there it is" exclaimed Chad, whiplashing him back to reality.
He turned to Solomon
"What do you think? Cuz I feel like this is a decent investment but- it's gonna make a dent in the wallet."
Solomon nodded his head in agreement.
"I think it's a good investment because, we aren't exactly sure what they got. Yeah they can use magic but hey, who knows, the possibility of them using summons is very possible. I'd say let's buy a magazine's worth for every gun and use them as a sort of last resort if need be, no?"
"Yeah that's fair I suppose. Split 50/50?"
"Brother-" Solomon cut off
"I got this."
"Based."
Solomon tilted his head at the compliment.
"What does that mean?"
"Like... really cool... I think."
"...Maybe... just say cool or thank you."
Chad gave a semi-sour face considering he was made out as the weird one of the two.
"Anyway," started up Chad,
"What's with those 4 little dried up sticks?"
"Ah, these-" replied the Business Man,
"These are talismans. Native American to be specific. They summon a specific type of vessel into the real world called Hybrids."
The customers both tilted their heads.
"Hybrids...?" asked Chad.
"As expected, believe it or not, modern day sorcerers are rapidly evolving the field of magic. Typically, spirits can be summoned either through seals, chants, hand-signs, or what have you. Well, about two years ago, a group of sorcerers managed to find a new way to summon these spirits. By mummifying a fetus, wrapping it in recently marked mammal hide, they can spawn in a spirit into the physical world. As you know, spiritual markings are placed upon surfaces and that's one of the classic ways to summon a spirit. However, through etching the unholy markings upon the hide, and the hide making contact with the unborn, the spirit uses the corpse as a vessel, stretching and growing its flesh as a makeshift body. And thus, the typically invisible spirit roams around in our mortal realm."
Both Chad and Solomon's curious faces melted into a perturbed stare, almost regretting having asked the process.
"Wait but, why would anyone want to buy these? Spirits have the upperhand in terms of stealth" prompted Chad.
"Ah, that's the thing, this is a beginner's toy. I'm expecting at least one of you to know how hard spirit summoning is, right? It takes years to get the basics down and when it can go south on the first summon alone, well you just wasted your life. BUT, with these dandy little tools, it's the baby's first summoning program! Not to mention, one of these actually has a specific ability that is more suited for the physical realm than the spiritual. Niche, I'll admit however, like I say- can't spell NICHE without NICE."
The customers did that thing where they bounce their heads side to side in a "not bad" type of way.
The merchant continued.
"And again, since these are by some standards inferior to spirits, they're on the cheaper side of the market; definitely more on the experimental side rather than practical but hey, there's a market for everything after all!"
"Honestly... yeah, I'm sold," admitted Chad.
"Agreed," concurred Solomon.
"Not only that but we could give these to Edward and the others since they're not that ready to tackle the higher ends of summoning. Plus it doesn't hurt to get extra back up if need be.
How much?"
"$4000 each. But buy all four of them and i'll sell them to you for the price of three!"
Chad's face instantly contorted into one of excitement; a sale? A DEAL?
"Shit dude, lead with that next time!"
Solomon reflected upon Chad's demeanor and was glad his buddy still had at least some semblance of that young spunky kid from Utah.
The Business Man chuckled.
"Noted. However, I will make a quick note: these two, avoid summoning these two together. I don't know the intricacies or what happened between these two but they don't like each other much."
He held up two of the talismans. One had a wolf's skull with antlers etched to its side and the other bore the face with a large mouth and no other noticeable features.
"Understood" complied Chad, studying its sides, before putting them back and fishing money out of his own wallet.
Though the other items were distractingly beautiful for their own reasons, Belko couldn't help but pay attention to the absurdly sized knife.
"What's uh... what's the deal with this li'l thing?"
"Oh this one?" Asked the Seller.
"This is one is real neat. It cuts anything the harder its durability is. Though it may have a hard time being used as a butter knife, stick this to a bear's hide or the loin of a lion, they're natural armor will be negated. Trust me, stab this in anyone or anything- you'll be making steaks out of them right then and there. I heavily recommend it. You guys seem like gun type of fellas but trust me, you may never know when you'll need these types of weapons."
Both of them pondered about it and within 15 seconds, they concurred with a resounding "yeah, can't argue against it."
"How much?"
"$17,000."
Chad's eye twitched.
"Ok" replied Solomon as he nonchalantly fished the money out of his briefcase.
"A pleasure" responded the Vendor as he received the cash.
"Naturally."
"Anything else for ya fellas?"
Both of them looked at each other before slowly turning their gazes towards the most vile artifact of them all: The Giant Railroad spike.
"So... which railroad track did you steal this from?" asked Belko.
"The government."
"Ah- right."
"But uh...what does it do?"
The Salesman chuckled.
"It bears the soul of America's biggest hoax turned into reality. It doesn't matter if it was a man-made myth or a Navajo legend spanning thousands of years, what matters is that the CIA is missing one of its spiritual nukes. Due to the way that spirits work, the constant appraisal and fear that spans generations has pumped this fella with enough power to take over a small country. It also helps that it has never been released before, so as its first incarnation, it doesn't have the degraded quality of a regurgitated spirit. Pristine, big, and a black market buyer's wet dream."
The buyers both looked tempted. Such power, right in front of their eyes. They could just kill this guy right here and now and take it all but... considering he's of this side of the market, there's something up his sleeve no doubt. But its calling... its calling. The voices of violence ever tempting. This would surely complete their goals at hand- pretty easily if anything.
NAE- nae, they have gotten this far with good relations. No need to obliterate a bridge when future help may be needed. That is business after all.
"How much" demanded Chad.
"14 Million."
Chad's face was one of a distant, blank stare. As if he just processed a year's worth of information in one second.
The news was so grand it took him a moment to come back to reality.
...
Wait a second...
Wait a second!
He turned to his pal Solomon like a kid turning to their father at Toy's R Us.
And like the father in question, Solomon's face was the opposite of Chad's.
"Say...do you have... 14 million dollars?"
"Yes."
Chad's face glowed.
Solomon kept his muted expression.
"So can we buy it?" asked Chad.
"No."
Flabbergasted, for the first time since his teenage years, Chad couldn't hold his cool.
"but-BUT-"
he kept frantically pointing at the relic
"IT IS RIGHT THERE DUDE!"
Solomon tilted his head, gave a sour expression with his closed mouth and rebutted in a couple seconds.
"I understand, friend, however I'll admit, this is one of the few purchases where it'll actually cost a dent in my briefcase. We're just gonna have to come up with a plan, or give up this opportunity. Simple as. And it's not a big deal, there are plenty of opportunities down the road, and I'm in on this plan too. If anything, I'm more excited for it than you are but... the lord loves to test us in our path. Simply the way it is."
They both pondered for a bit; the Salesman sat at the side of the bed and waited patiently.
Chad started.
"Again, sorry if we're wasting your time"
The vendor waved it off as he smiled.
"Trust me, you guys are entertaining enough."
.
.
.
Within 5 minutes, Chad snapped his fingers and turned to his friend.
"Let's rob a bank."
...
...
...
Solomon shrugged.
"Okay!"
They paid the vendor for the guns, ammunition, wicked blade, and the four talismans.
A couple days passed.
8:24 AM
Out in a small quiet town, a small square-looking local bank opened up its doors.
There, the manager and all the tellers began their usual routine. Counting the money, checking the safe, activating all 14 features of hard press security in the comically sized vault in the back room. The couple of security forces and police officers on the premises were having their coffee to start their day. Chitchatting about their kids, grilling season, pork ribs vs steak, which one was better, "oh I think the Oakland raiders are going to win this season", "nah I have hope in this year's candidate", "he's a god damn psychopath", the typical Monday morning routine.
A skinny bank teller in his late 20s sat in his cubicle. A teenager soon walked in.
"Hey! You're Mr. Caber right? Here for the checking account set up right?"
"Yes sir" answered the polite teenager in casual formal wear.
"Now is this your first account with us?"
"Not just with you guys, in general!"
"Oh well I'll be! Trust me, its a lot easier than you think so don't sweat a single thing."
At the bank's parking lot, two suspicious men were marching towards the entrance. One of them was wearing their iconic red tank top, triangular sunglasses, baggy pants and combat boots; he came strapped with a menacing looking Remington 500 Shotgun. His partner was wearing a red Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts, pitch black cracked sunglasses, and crocs; he carried an ominous looking box. They both also carried decently large sized duffel bags.
"Glad you finally ditched the Jacket" started Chad.
"Yeah, you were right," admitted Belko.
"I noticed you were sweating like a pig in there. Didn't know you could keep a straight face for so long."
"Yeah well, lesson learned..."
"Yeah... that being said, are you sure this plan will work?"
"My brother in Christ-"
"I'm not Christian but okay" muttered Chad
"Right. Anyway, it's a foolproof plan. Who pays attention to the large safe anyway? It's a quiet town, people are minding their own business like any other day, it's a typical boring Monday. And since we're invisible, nobody will be none the wiser!"
"You say that but... we can still see each other 💀"
"Oh come on, use your head friend! My ability makes it so that I'm the only one who can decide what gets seen by who! What would be the use of my ability if you couldn't see me!"
"That is... a fair point..."
They both stopped right in front of Bank's front doors.
They both stood there, silent.
Chad's eyes twitched.
"What's wrong brother? Getting cold feet?" asked Solomon.
"Nah it's not... necessarily that. Just a matter of..."
He paused, only to momentarily face Solomon and death grip his shoulders
"Are you ABSOLUTELY- POSITIVELY SURE, ON YOUR MOTHER'S GRAVE, YOUR LOVE FOR YOUR GOD, AND OUR LIVES- that we are invisible"
Solomon winced from the sheer pain.
"Ah- OW, yes, of course!"
Chad let go and took a deep breath.
"Okay... just making sure. And, sorry for your shoulder."
"It's fine..." muttered Solomon.
They pushed in the entrance of the door.
.
.
.
"So here, you put in your own pin code; it's a 4 digit code that gives access to your card whenever you're at an ATM or sometimes finalizing purchases" explained the Bank Teller.
"Ah gotcha! I'm gonna put it as... 8493!"
"You don't... you don't actually tell me that information 💀"
As the bank teller was talking to the teenager, out of the corner of his eye, he saw two suspicious looking figures stroll inside the bank. They had duffel bags and... is... is that a GUN? They didn't make any noise or any loud demands, they didn't start any ruckus or shoot guns in the air to get everyone's attention, they simply walked in. Seeing the otherworldly reaction that the Bank Teller's face made, the teenager turned around to see what he was looking at. Their heart sank, stomach tying knot after knot after knot as they choked on said rope. They were an avid fan of violent video games, playing the usual first person shooter here and there but...seeing a real life gun up this close, being held by a complete stranger in a facility where guns had no logical place to be in, it could only mean one thing. He saw it. The Bank Teller saw it. The police and security forces took notice as well, as their jaws slowly dropped. Nevermind the scorching hot coffee that slowly spilled on their shoes, they simply did not know how to react. They were trained to take down hostile takeovers and emergencies in case trained bank robbers were to ever storm the building but... this was different. It felt like two average well-mannered customers were politely looking for where the bathroom was. On an emotional level, it felt like an Alien walking into your room, looking for your wallet and quietly walking out with it. It felt like meeting your bastard son for the first time since their conception 23 years ago and they turned out completely different from what you imagined. Heads or tails couldn't be made. It really was something that came from a dream or short story written by a young adult or a short film directed by said young adult. The reaction was absurd; the air was tense.
"Hey... Solomon"
"Yes?"
"Are you sure that your ability is on right now"
"Why of course brother, why do you ask?"
"Ah ok! Just making sure because all of these people are staring riGHT FUCKING AT US," harshly whispered Chad.
"Oh nonsense, you're just nervous. Now, hold this box for a sec."
"Alright. Wait, what's in this box anyway?"
"Nitroglycerine"
"Ah.
...
Hey Solomon?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you please answer me a single question?"
"Anything you ask my friend."
"Can you explain to me what thE FUCK YOU WERE THINKING WHEN WALKING AROUND WITH A SHOEBOX FULL OF EXPLOSIVE POWDER?"
"We were going to blow up the safe. Must you ask a silly question?"
"Hey uh- and where would we go when it blows up?"
"We'd simply walk out of the bank and go back in when it's done. What are you not getting, is this really such a hard plan to understand?"
"No, I really don't think you understand how things would actually play out. The very second that goes off, the bank's security is going to increase tenfold. Anyway, where the hell did you get that stuff anyway?"
"I've been carrying it in my luggage this entire time. A little frustrating since a little bit of it gets scattered on some of my clothes but otherwise, it's pretty negligible. Also, I could finally use it for once! Like I say, best to have it and not need it, than need it and not have it."
"WHA- I- DUH-
DUDE"
Solomon shot back a semi annoyed glare.
"...what? If it's so much of an issue for you, then how about you come up with a plan then."
Chad's eye twitched.
The hall ended and presented a door. Through the door was the vault room.
A heavy, ten foot tall vault lock with its many locks and big wheel announced itself with its tons of steel plated armor and mighty presence.
Chad made a wry face
"Actually, I do have a plan," he announced.
"Hold this" he continued, handing Solomon his shotgun and duffle bag.
He rolled his shoulders, warmed up his wrists, pulled his neck side to side, did little jumps on the spot, took a deep breath, dried his hands from the bit of sweat he had accumulated and then finally, firmly grasped the handles of the safe's knob. White knuckling to the extreme, all of Chad's veins made themselves known; his beet red face said it all. His teeth were clenched so hard it neared the point of breaking his own teeth from the sheer ferocity of his own jaw force. Clenching and contracting, communicating every muscle fiber to heed his command. PUSH. PULL. PUSH. PULL. TURN YOU FUCKER TURN. A scream of anguish and testosterone filled the halls, notifying the increasing force of security coming their way. Huffing and puffing and chuffing, this was it, the pump. The sheer adrenaline of the task, the frustration of the mechanism not budging, the absurdity of it all, god, god, always me- why GOD. Is this your plan? To piss me off? Is that it? Is this the concept of god's plan? To laugh at my face? Is the intent to rile me up and brute force my way into this impenetrable vault, because guess what!? Its working alright! Its fucking WORKING.
A pool of ravenous frothing drool gashed out of his mouth. Blood pooled out of both nostrils. It genuinely did look like the vein on his forehead was about to explode and squirt the liter of blood into Solomon's face.
"Hey...Chad..."
He turned to Solomon.
With bloodshot eyes beneath those pointed sunglasses, a feral Chad shot back.
"WHAT?"
"..."
Solomon turned his head to the right, about to open his mouth before pausing and continuing with his original sentence.
"I don't think this is working."
"Oh-"
Chad put his palm on his forehead.
"Oh- oh really? Gee, I didn't fucking notice! By all means! Be my guest! Are you strong enough to pull this lever that weighs several tons! Well I sure as fuck didn't know but HEY! Belko must be fucking stronger than me considering we are NOT going to use the nitroglycerin, and we don't have the passcode so the only thing we CAN do is brute force our way in! Go ahead pal! Knock her out! I beLIEVE in you!"
Solomon made a displeased face.
"No, I think I'm good."
Chad, worn and huffing keeled over. After a brief 16 second break, he got up once again, took a deep breath and continued once more.
"Thought so."
.
.
.
"Hey Chad."
"GRRRFFNNHHHGGGRRR-HUFF
yeah?"
"By any chance, was this your only plan?"
Chad had a slight split second chuckle under his breath.
"You know, despite my appearances, I may seem like the dubiest himbo imaginable, but I'm far from stupid. Yes dude, I had another backup plan. It's just that I'd rather bruTE FORCE HRGHH-
IT'S JUST- HUFF HUFF- ahg fuck you HUFF, it's just that i'd rather not let him loose because he's a pain in the ass to calm down. My family hasn't summoned him in 117 years so, I'd rather not deal with that until I need to."
CLINK
A loud thud made itself known.
Solomon looked up shocked.
Chad himself was hornswoggled.
In a fit of excitement that he actually made progress instead of wasting time. Chad's expression lit up; he clenched onto the handles to the point of imprinting his hands on them, anchoring himself to the ground, and then proceeded to give himself a near hernia experience as he forced the mechanism to break itself from the inside.
𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐊 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐊 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐊
"GGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG"
The gears wrecked and mashed themselves. Thousands of pounds being hardered rather than smartered, the ancient vault was no use. Nevermind its outdated mechanism, since no man would be able to pull the sheer weight without the code regardless. But here, Chad stood, glowing with the force that his ancestors bestowed onto him. Glory, glory, glory to the Bernard name.
"𝔽𝕌ℂ𝕂
ＯＳＵ" he roared, pausing for a brief moment as he struck a muscle bound pose. His muscles quaked and burned. He felt the aftermath in his entire body from shredding itself. Though his soul given physical form was screaming, he couldn't help but admit that for once in a long time, he felt alive.
Belko, admiring his friend, smiled.
"I'm glad you actually had it in you, friend."
"Yeah... me too I guess"
"Yeah. It's a shame that this moment is a bit short lived."
Solomon pointed to the wall of special forces that crowded the door. It seems that due to the shocked nature of the security, instead of handling these two intruders themselves, they took advantage of the time that the distracted terrorists left them with, and instead called upon several SWAT forces. Armored vehicles that scattered the parking lot, civilians successfully escorted out and instead peeked through the yellow tape lines. It was clear that this was more of a spectacle than anything. Any reason to show off more guns never hurt anybody down South anyway. This was probably the most interesting thing to happen in their lonely little town since 1974. Maybe even the 1890s. Either way, a count of 80~ish rifles were aimed squarely at the two.
"This is the Police Department of Little California, stop what you're doing, drop your weapons, raise your arms and get on the ground or else we will open fire."
All of the pigs smiled with malicious intent.
It didn't matter whether or not they said the warning line or not. The outcome wouldn't have mattered. They just need to say it to avoid any paperwork of "misdemeanor". Seeing as how the two would be seen as wrong by practically everyone in modern society, it again, didn't matter.
Chad, too shocked to really process anything, experienced 14 different emotions at once. Unsure on whether or not he was going to experience a seizure or a breakdown first, he turned to his friend.
"Hey Solomon?"
"Yes?"
"Was your technique not on the entire time?"
"Before you kill me, do you remember how you gripped my shoulder really hard?"
"...
Yes."
"I believe that the pain you encumbered upon me distracted me at the time so I subconsciously let go of the ability. By the time I realized, it was already for naught."
"I see."
Chad looked down for a moment.
It seemed he contemplated for days despite only seconds passing by.
Two officers marched towards them at a steady pace.
He finally responded.
"You know Belko, I forgive you. Also, I'm sorry for snapping back at you earlier. That wasn't cool of me, just a little heat of the moment, you know?"
"Yeah.
...
...
You know, I didn't expect to meet the Lord this soon. It's been over a decade since I last saw him but hey, at least it was my intended destination in the first place, no? And best case scenario, we only go to jail. We didn't kill anybody this time but, I don't think we're gonna get out of this one. Here's to hoping we're jail mates."
The officer got close.
He pointed the barrel of his rifle at Solomon's forehead.
Oh.
I see.
Well, my friend. I'm glad that in this life, I at least left with a loved one near me.
"OFFICER."
The cop sneered at Chad, finger on the trigger.
"Don't worry, we'll make this one qui-"
In a flash, Chad took advantage of the split second distracted officers. Punching the officer designated for him straight in the liver, then coming from behind the other one, turning him towards the other plethora of officers, strangling him with his left arm and taking hold of the rifle in his right arm.
"Solomon."
"Yeah?" replied the friend in shock.
"Turn invisible. Go out the backside, and run. I cannot stress that you run as fast and as far as possible. We'll meet each other soon, one way or another."
The holy man did as he was told, disappearing from sight.
All the other officers panicked from the sheer sight of what just happened. First, this literal superhuman just took down two armed officers, took one hostage, and the other just evaporated into thin air. They didn't want to shoot, no way! That was Corporal Nick! There's not a single chance that they could take. They could try to aim for the head, but everyone is already thinking that, and the chances of harming the corporal were too high! Think of his daughter, think of all the grills he hosted! He was a local celebrity with a hot wife, humble "mansion" and most importantly of all, their boss.
The SWAT forces motioned the officers to stay back. The Officers argued back and motioned them to fuck off, they can negotiate with the terrorist. No way they would risk their boss' lives for these strangers. Its one thing to let the big guys handle the trouble, but when trouble becomes trouble, no way in hell would they take the risk.
As the confusion, frustration, and bickering continued, a murmur could be heard.
All of the forces looked at each other. They can hear it. Jeffrey is that you? No, it's Frank. I don't sound like that, the hell are you talking about? John's on my left side, it's probably that guy.
A deep voice whispered to all of their consciousness. The presence of someone breathing down the back of their neck. The uncomfortable familiarity of a dog sniffling up close to their left ears. A voice whispering ancient Germanic in the right ear.
They all paid back attention to the main culprit. A subtle wicked grin spread from cheek to cheek.
Chad pushed the officer away and dropped the rifle.
𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐘𝐑 𝐃𝐘𝐀𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐀
𝐆𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐓𝐄𝐍
𝐌𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐅𝐀𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐍
𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐇𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐊!
He laughed and hollered in sheer excitement. Reminded of his teenage days, his jolly memories, his family rituals that he endured, he was pulled back into his pure essence.
The bottom of the room glowed.
Nordic Runes made themselves known, even to those who have never conceived the unseen realm.
Flashing lights warning.
With a wicked flick and malicious joy, he put his hands in the air and flashed two hand signs.
All of the forces fired their arms immediately. Heavy caliber bullets whizzed and bounced seemingly all around Chad. For some odd reason, no matter how strong the caliber, nor the rain of lead that came his way, nor the precise accuracy of the best, nor seemingly infinite eyes set upon him,
He remained unscathed.
All of the bullets stopped a few feet short of him. Silly, really, how the kilos of metal that they had sent towards the terrorist seemed to imprint the "barrier" that was surrounding Chad.
One officer immediately noticed it. He hyperventilated over and over and over, trying to tell his body to move, only for the action to be delayed after 18 seconds, frantically slipping and tripping his way, pushing past all his ex-comrades and bastards, "FUCK IF I WANT TO DIE, YOU CAN CATCH HIM IF YOU WANT"
Confused, his neighbor was worried about the situation as a whole. Nevertheless, the panic infected him as well, as he too noticed it. Reacting much the same, he dropped his rifle and ran back.
And then another.
And then another.
Pretty soon, all of them noticed it.
The flurry of bullets that imprinted themselves upon the "wall" surrounding Chad made a figure.
That is no wall.
That is a 15 foot tall invisible "man"
Lo, The Guardian of The Hygrdryll Clan, Protector of those who had Warrior Blood coursing through their veins.
Knight of Negativity, Weaver of Wrath; blinded by Violence, you have been summoned for the first time in 117 years.
Unholy Juggernaut; Malevolent Titan.
I call upon you to bare your fangs.
Slumbering Rakshasa, most Loyal Giant
I offer you these pests for the sake of my life.
Now and forevermore, heed my call
Lorr: Fiend of Malice
Revealing itself to Chad and the officers, the giant had finished taking its physical form.
A 15 foot tall greater spirit stood in front of its summoner.
It's muscles gave the presence of an unstoppable ape or a similarly-sized Bear; giving off the impression that no Man, Animal, Machine, or Force of Nature could contest with its strength. Nordic Runes scattered its being, as well as several other Pict-ish patterns tattooed all throughout its figure. Its baggy pants funneled downwards to strict and tight combat boots. An eternal Snake swirled all around its arms. A noticeable crack had embellished itself on the right-rear side of its skull. Gnashing, gnarled teeth with horrendous gums, was the second loudest thing about this creature's appearance, considering its permanent disdainful sneer on full display. The most noticeable thing about the creature was easily the two 6-foot long single-edged swords that were sheathed through its head.
Staring, staring, staring, Lorr gazed upon its targets.
The officers stared back at Death.
No amount of praying, nor bribing, nor running, nor screaming, nor "defending", nor attacking, would change the situation.
After a brief stare-down, Lorr finally motioned towards its swords, sliding them outwards with the sound of scraping oiled up machinery emitting out of its sockets.
As if enjoying the moment, taking its time in appreciating the slew of skewed emotions, the panic, the misery, the realization that they will never see their wife or child ever again, the fact that a few of their "would-be children" are going to grow up fatherless, the fact that they've been getting cucked from behind since Academy, realizing that for the past 29 years they've prayed to the wrong god- otherwise surely, they would not have seen themselves in this situation, no? In the end, none of it matters now.
Once again.
Fate had finally spoken:
""𝕂𝕀𝕃𝕃.""
.
.
.
2 Hours passed.
Chad, sweaty and showered in dust finally laid atop a hill.
The entirety of the town had been reduced to a spotted crater. The leftover fragments of buildings barely stood, no firemen to water down all the fires, no police to save the day, no church to say one's prayers, no school to teach the right from wrong, no no no no no! None of it. If anything, it was a miracle that this lone grassy patch was left unscathed by the behemoth, currently still cleaving the remains of the ruins. Smoke and dust filled the air, choking the last two survivors in the area (excluding the malevolent spirit of course). Sirens echoed across the vacant city. Cars beeped and fire alarms all chanted across the scape. And yet-
It was all quiet.
Chad stared at the permanent gray sky.
He felt like he was conflicted but he knew deep down... not really.
He squinted harshly, before putting on his sunglasses.
Minutes later, rustling came by.
It was Solomon.
Much like his brother in arms, he too was covered in soot and ash. Not a single speck of skin was his natural hue. His teeth and tongue were even stained gray, almost as if he came straight from a WWII raid.
"Cha-huff-Chad!"
Chad turned to his friend, still resting on the ground.
"Oh hey, I'm glad you're at least alive."
"Yeah well, only the people that I want to see me can... see me. By the way, does this spirit notice allies?"
Chad scrunged up his face, pondering about it.
"Unfortunately, not really. He's kind of a bitch if you couldn't tell. He only protects people from my family's lineage; otherwise anyone else he sees is getting turned to minced meat so... good job not getting yourself killed."
"Huff- I thought so!
.... I uhh... I didn't want things to go this way now that I uh... smell the roses...er ash..."
"Me too Solomon. I didn't foresee today going the way it did but... we're still alive and that's all that matters."
Chad stood silent for a bit, before finally getting up, dusting himself off, and chuckling to himself.
"The things I do for love."
He clapped his hands and continued.
"Alright so here's the deal, I'm going to unsummon Lorr, in which case you hide until need be. It's probably gonna take 20 minutes if I'm being honest.
Afterwards, we steal everything from the bank before anybody else notices that the entire town is gone.
Finally, we get the fuck out of here, take a shower and get something to eat. Sounds like a plan?"
"Damn right it does" replied Solomon, raising his fist and smiling his cheesy grin.
"Glad to hear" agreed Chad, frisking his friend's mohawk.
And so they marched, those who bore the name of "Blood".
.
.
.
After Chad took 24 minutes to calm down his guardian giant, he and Solomon realized one thing about this disaster.
Solomon looked at Chad.
Chad did much the same.
They both shouted in unison.
"THE CAR!!!"
After scanning around the grounds of the now defunct bank, through the aisles of entrails, gales of dust, and hills of rubble, they looked around at what used to be the parking lot.
Most but not all of the cars were pancaked and/or diced beyond recognition. Trying to remember where they parked, Chad scurried around the area.
"SOLOMON! I can't find it!"
The mohawked fellow finally caught up to his pal, and chuckled at the scene.
"Chad, it's alright!" responded Solomon.
With a snap of his fingers, Belko's precious automobile finally revealed itself- unscathed no less!
Of course, despite being invisible prior, it was still affected by the flurry of soot from the destruction. But aside from the grime, no scratches, no dents, it's still in one piece? All fine by the two of 'em.
They both sighed in relief.
"Hey Sol,"
(pronounced as Saul as a nickname)
"why'd you turn it invisible for me too? Ya almost gave me a heart attack."
"Yeah sorry 'bout that. You told me to turn invisible and get out of there. When I remembered about the car, I also turned it invisible for everyone, seeing as how I was scared shitless and just running for my life until the coast was... relatively cleared. I'm surprised that my technique works against the monster but more importantly- i'm surprised the car is basically unscathed. It's dirty as sin but nothing like a good $6 car wash and vacuuming can't help."
"I see...
damn this is uh..."
Chad scratched his head and raised an eyebrow
"We genuinely got lucky like, what are the chances?"
"100%" automatically responded Solomon.
Chad turned to him with a puzzled gaze.
"huh?"
"100%; It's not luck, it's fate. It is by definition, a miracle!"
Chad internally groaned, muttering an "(oh no)" inside his head, hoping that Solomon didn't see Chad's eyes roll.
"Uh...right..." responded Chad distantly.
"No, I'm serious!" continued Solomon.
"What are the odds! We were on death's door, facing an army of rifles and manpower, with the forces of the rest of the town no less, on top of a spirit that you summoned! Granted, the latter part doesn't affect you, but I- and by extension 'Iris' were left unharmed! Dirty as hell yeah but in the end, we're still alive!"
Before Chad could come up with a rebuttal, he automatically called out "Who's Iris?"
Solomon gasped.
"Don't say that in front of her! You'll hurt her feelings! What's the matter with you?"
Chad looked at the car.
And then connected two and two together
"That's so dumb."
"Anyways-" continued Chad.
"I get what you're trying to say but, I really don't think it's a miracle or any machination of god by any means. At best it's just luck, and even then I say that as an expression.”
"Hoh really now? Luck?"
"No but kinda yes."
"Luck
over God's chosen few, that being us?"
"Look dude, I'm not gonna get into it but as my final answer, yes."
"I disagree. If it weren't for God, we would've been gunned down there without hesitation, and we wouldn't be standing here, grateful to be alive. It's thanks to my praying from last night, two nights ago, before we entered those doors, and allllll those nights from years prior. Hell, if it weren't for God, you wouldn't have had that divine strength or that on the spot ingenuity of that pla-"
The vein on Chad's forehead made itself known as he stomped over to Solomon's face and started barking.
"No dude, QUIT IT. No god has ever manipulated any events for, or against me, no god has saved my life, and ESPECIALLY, no god has ever controlled any one of my thoughts or actions. You really think that every human is controlled by the whims of the almighty? I know the spiritual exists but come the fuck ON Solomon. Get your head out of your ass, and quit your phony god bullshit and-"
Right as Chad emitted those words, both of them felt that same pang. Solomon felt a wrathful knot in his stomach, alongside difficulty breathing, the overbearing feeling of his muscles loosening up, and his tear ducts holding back. Chad on the other hand felt an invisible force grasp his neck, and the immediate pain of an arrow go through his head, wishing he just held his mouth shut.
"(Shit.)" thought Chad.
Solomon's face tightened, his nose wrinkled, his eyes deadshot, and his cheerful smile instantaneously morphed into a skewed frown of pure hate. He marched forward, pressuring Chad to walk backwards.
"The FUCK did you just say?"
For the first time ever, the imposing, older, stronger Chad couldn't look straight at his friend's eyes.
"Say it again."
Chad looked away.
The both of them stood there for an agonizingly long time. Solomon couldn't care less. There was a knife on his back, and it didn't matter if he died or not. All that mattered was whether or not that knife would be affirmed, and pushed even further, or if that knife would be pulled out. Chad on the other hand felt like a wilting tree. It didn't matter if they stood there for another couple hours, starved, and awkwardly drove back to the city without saying a word. It didn't matter if they stood there for two days or so. It didn't matter if a Police Department from another town found them both facing each other as if it were a standoff, oblivious to the decimated town that they just enacted. It didn't matter if eons went by, and both withered away on those exact same spots, never looking eye to eye again. Solomon could've just taken the car and left, and Chad wouldn't be mad. In an ironic fashion, he wanted God to do something- anything to get him the hell out of this situation.
He wouldn't blame Solomon if he punched him in the jaw. If anything it'd make him feel better because at least SOMETHING would've happened. Solomon could've started a fight. There's no chance Chad would've lost. He's stronger, faster, smarter, and has more abilities up his sleeve and yet- Chad's will had evaporated at that very moment. Whether it could've taken 10 hours, or a hundred years, if it made Solomon happy, Chad would not budge.
And yet.
He's just standing there.
Waiting for my response.
As much as I wanted to say something- I physically couldn't.
I try to say something, but I'm so choked up that no matter how hard I try to mutter out an ounce of a whisper or scream a primal roar, my throat could not work.
"WELL?" asked Solomon.
"SAY IT GOD DAMN IT!"
A single tear ran down Solomon's cheek, keeping that permanent angry expression.
.
.
.
After what felt like years, Chad finally looked at Solomon
Embraced him
And said "I'm sorry."
After a good 10 minutes of calming down, they both quickly got back to filling up the duffel bags with as much money and bars of gold as they could. Chad would fill his bag with a majority of the gold while Solomon lugged around the bricks of hundred dollar stacks. They pondered whether or not to scavenge the town and see if there were any jewelry stores but considering the state of the town, it'd probably take an entire day to find a single diamond gram underneath the ruins and rubble. Though they weren't necessarily in a rush considering the peculiar circumstances, still, they both realized that they just didn't have the time for it.
After all of that was over, they both entered the car and drove off into what remained of the road.
"Again, that wasn't cool of me. I didn't mean it Sol, it's just- you gotta admit, you can be pretty overbearing with that stuff. I know it doesn't excuse what I said, but I just wanted to let it be known."
Solomon stared aimlessly at the scenery in front of them, then responded.
"Nah it's... it's fine... I guess I can't help it since- it has been the only stable, driving force in my life... If it was from any other schmuck of course I'd just laugh it off, put a bullet in his ribs and go on with my day but... hearing it from a friend really hurts... I don't think I've ever experienced something like that before. I mean, sure I've been shot a couple of times, and mama would sometimes discipline me in a grave way when I really screwed up, but... Idunno. This one just felt a bit more potent..."
"I understand that. But keep in mind Solomon, that these types of things are inevitable. You and the crew are the only sort of friends that I have left, and though I may have some co-workers that I talk to sometimes- I'm never going to talk to them about Pre-Retcon Beyonder or philosophical debates on society, ya know? It'll always be 'sports' this, and 'Steam Sale' that. But no road is perfect, and even the greatest ones have a few bumps here and there. Sorry if this sounds stupid, I'm not very good at analogies but, with these few bumps, I believe that smoothing it over and discussing them will only elevate our friendship, don'tcha think? Hell, I can assure you that this doesn't only happen to friends. Back when my siblings were with me, we would always fight."
Solomon curiously perked up.
"...really?"
"Dude- yes! They were annoying!" chuckled Chad.
"Everyday it was always something. Blaming each other on who broke a window, who broke the tv this time, who hit who over a toy, and whatever. And though it was obnoxious, it's not like we would hold grudges for a long time. The longest would be like a couple days or a week, and that's if they really fucked up. But at the end of the day, all eight of us would inevitably sleep side to side, huddled up right next to each other. Not like we had a choice. As much as we hated the other for being an asshole that day, it'll blow over and become just another day in the lives. Nobody would go to bed angry."
"Huh... interesting...
I never had any siblings, much less friends but hearing it from that perspective really does help. Sounds like a rather fun family!"
Chad's face, brimmed with nostalgic joy, soon morphed into a rather muted, neutral, soft semi-smile.
"Say, where are they now?"
"They're insid-
...
They're in a better place.
Hey-" continued Chad abruptly.
"How about this: we stop at a motel or an inn that's relatively deserted, shower real quick, go grab a bite- anything you want, go to a real hotel near the city, contact the salesman, buy the railroad spike, and then go off from there. How does that sound?"
"Can we go to Denny's?"
"Sol-
of course we can go to Denny's!"
"Then let's get to it" smiled Solomon.
.
.
.
4 days passed.
It was yet another bright and beautiful day in California. The decrepit Hotel was still standing. The city was still wheezing. A neighboring town had recently been wiped off the map from unknown circumstances. The everyday people panicked, worried about it for a day or two, then forgot it happened by dinner time.
The families all circled around in their own private time, distraught by the news, arranging funerals and a march in the name of the dead. Seeking for who or what could have caused this? Who do we blame? There's no way a single person could've caused this? Was it a bomb? An earthquake? Do we blame the government for hiding something? Do we blame nature or better yet- God? It was all so messy. Everyone coped with it in different ways. Some drank. Others fucked. Most cried. All sharing the same guttural pain; a knife shanked deep into their stomach and twisting indefinitely for entire days.
For the rest of the world, it was just another Tuesday.
Solomon, finally wore his simple bucket hat, Hawaiian shirt, jean shorts, worn boots, and those cracked sunglasses.
Chad on the other hand wore a red tank top that read "Juicy", khaki shorts, and those same innocent crocs.
They also dragged along the heavy duffel bags full of gold and money with them to the bus. Chad, being the physically stronger one, was of course the one carrying the duffel bags full of bricks of gold, clearly straining from it. Meanwhile, Solomon dragged along the other duffel bags full of money. To avoid being seen with 6 duffel bags worth of treasure, Solomon rendered 4 of them invisible, making it seem that Chad carried one in each hand, and Solomon carried one on his own. In reality, most of them were hidden in plain sight, and some hung by Chad's neck and shoulders, somehow resisting the hundreds of pounds slowly cutting him. To Chad, this was of course a herculean task. To everyone else in the bus, they just thought he was constipated or had issues.
"HEY- HRGK SOL?"
"Yeah?" responded Solomon
"AFTER WE GET OFF THIS BUS
I'M GOING TO FUCKING MURDER YOU"
Belko rolled his eyes.
"Trust me, if I were stronger I would gladly help but... you seem to be the more gifted one out of the two of us."
"FUCK- HRGGKK- YOU"
After the bus stopped they tried getting all the duffel bags off of the bus as quickly as possible, looking as if they were a couple of jokesters playing a mime gag with all these "invisible bags", unknowing of the grand crimes they just committed.
"THE GUY IS ALREADY WAITING FOR US LET'S JUST GO STRAIGHT TO THE ELAV-HRKG- ELEVATOR."
"(Pant), (gasp), HEARD" wheezed Solomon.
Both of them frantically ran to the same room from last week, rushing through before both of their bodies gave out. They bursted in.
"Gentleman" started the Merchant.
"Welcome back~"
"AAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAA" screeched the both of them, attempting to slowly drop all of the weight so as not to be caught. Emphasis on attempt, seeing as how it sounded like a pile of bowling balls just landed on the floor.
Startled, the merchant paused and motioned for the door to be closed. All of the invisible duffel bags became visible once more. The salesman put two and two together.
"Uh... you guys couldn't just give me like... a check or something?"
As both Chad and Solomon caught their breath, the Salesman's sentence finally registered in their heads. Sharing the same look of puzzled frustration, they both shouted "NO?!" as a response.
"Ok ok geez, calm down" responded the Salesman.
"Anyway uhm... I'm assuming all of this is for the... the big guy, huh?"
"The giant railroad spike, yes" panted Chad.
"Alright well... let's just see how much you guys actually managed to get"
After a good 30 minutes of sprawling the hill of gold and the stacks of million dollars, all 3 of them paid close attention to correctly and THOROUGHLY count all of the money.
So tired from all of the counting, the three of them couldn't even admire the money they had in front of them. An unimaginable amount, a figure so big the common man wouldn't be able to reach this amount in a single lifespan, much less ten. And yet, all the taxation from making sure not to miscount a single hundred dollar bill, dissuaded them from even looking at it.
The Salesman looked at Chad.
"..."
Chad looked at Solomon.
Solomon looked at the salesman.
Chad looked back at the salesman.
"What?" finally broke out Chad.
"You guys are missing two dollars"
Chad, taking a deep breath before letting out a soft chuckle went up to the salesman.
"Dude. I know you're being funny, but right now is NOT the time to pull that off"
"Fine geez” he said, waving his hand away.
"Anyway," he continued
"From my calculation, combining the value of the gold within this current year, rounding it up to a good 45k per kilo, on top of the rest of the money, you have enough to buy it and then some. I doubt you'll be wanting to lug around the gold so i'll just take that on top of the money that's needed and then you just take the leftover. Sound like a deal?"
"Hoh thank the LORD" groaned Solomon.
The vendor whipped out his gray suitcase from under the bed and dislodged the railroad spike. He handed it over to Chad.
"To use it, you just stick it into the ground, strike it with a hammer or your fist or whatever (it doesn't have to be spiritual mind you), and then watch it wreak havoc across the world. I will say though, since it has never been released before:
A. It's abilities are still unknown and more importantly
B. After you activate it, I implore you to run like hell; run far, FAR away. Seeing as how it's been captured and hasn't seen the light of day in a long time, I don't think it'll take too kindly to those who let him free either."
The beastly aura of the artifact radiated with an incomprehensible amount of sheer malice. A life for a life. A town for a town. West to East. What goes around comes around. Comes around indeed, in an act of cruel irony.
"Chad" called out Solomon.
Snapping out of it, Chad looked back at his friend.
"Uh- y-yeah?"
"Let's put it in the bag now. I'm kinda starving"
"Sure, here ya go."
Chad looked up at the salesman.
The vendor stared at him with a serious glance and stated.
"Don't let it guide you. It's none of my business what you're planning to do with it, but when you use it, use it wisely. I can hear him sometimes too. Don't listen to him."
Chad took a bit to register the warning, but softly shook his head in compliance.
"Say- uh actually-" said Chad aloud in an almost frantic pace.
"By any chance, there's no way you don't have security right? I mean this job is risky and I don't doubt there's a couple of creeps aiming to swindle you, no?"
"Oh that's not a problem" replied the Vendor.
With a snap of his fingers and a point to the closet, the closet doors opened and revealed a figure. A 5'5" Chinese man wearing nothing but pitch black cotton clothes, sporting a stone-cold thousand yard stare, and a mouth that looked like it had never smiled before.
"This is Chang," continued the Salesman.
"He's good at his job, he's scary, and best of all, he's a handsome fella, ain't that right Chang!?"
"Exactly! Look at 'em!"
Solomon and Chad couldn't help it. Solomon felt immensely weakened by this man's stare. Chad felt uneasy about this guy's... "vibe". Despite being shorter than the both of them, they both knew that any wrong move would set him off. For what Solomon's stealth and Chad's strength could muster, it wouldn't be enough to run away from his cold deadly grasp.
"Anyway, back in the closet you go, shoo shoo!" motioned the Salesman.
Chang slowly but surely creaked his door closed, keeping that ungodly concentrated stare on the two guests.
"...Yeah... I think we'd best be going..." responded Chad.
"Well, sure thing! And of course, you guys know how to contact me if you need anything else. Hell, I'm pretty sure I'm getting some new things in stock this Thursday, so shoot me a call!"
"Of...of course..." commented Solomon.
Before leaving, Chad made one last request.
"By the way, you don't mind if we leave our duffel bags in here right? It's easier for you and...Wang?"
"His name is Chang"
"CHANG! Right- it'd be easier for you two to carry it, no?"
"Hell no, pick it up."
.
.
.
And like that, terroristic endeavors slowly yet surely were being weaved one malicious tensile at a time. Webbed through various loops and plots, the spread of secrecy among some, straggling through close strangers. One step at a time, a bunch of deranged nobodies would see through that the eradication of the enemy would become a reality.
Different motivations, same actions, faux family, shared blood.