{DR34D} - Madness Combat

F34R

God, I miss having cigarettes. Sanford had once asked what it would take to get me to stop smoking. Guess I know now that it's having your jaw replaced with stone. I wonder how I'll eat when I get out of Hell. And I know that I'll get out. I'm not going to die here. Hank and Sanford need me back.
Maybe I'll be healed when I return to Nevada. I've heard Hank talking about always getting his wounds repaired and shit. I think he lost his jaw at some point.
Well, there we go. If I do get healed, I can continue smoking.
Heh. I know exactly what Sanford would say if he was here.
"You're seriously gonna keep smoking, D? Wouldn't this be enough to push you towards quitting? It's your fault, you know that? That you're in purgatory with rocks for hands? That Hank and I are fighting a demon with a Keystone Fragment? Hank may not have even survived the MAG transformation. What then? Then I'm alone, and I'm gonna d-"
Alright, alright. I get it. I fucked up. I wasn't good enough to take down that Engineer, and I died, and now I'm here.
I wasn't good enough.

Ha. Story of my fuckin' life.
Not good enough when I worked for the AAHW. Not good enough when I worked against them, and not good enough to save Hank's life without a casualty.
AAHW. What a brilliant memory. I was just another grunt, almost an Agent, but not quite. All I'd heard of the man, the myth, the guy with a shitload of bandages was his supposed immortality. I know now all the stuff that led up to it, and that he was a great fighter before it, but something about not staying dead was more frightening than any combat skill or weapons mastery.
I don't know why we kept fighting him. We-Jebus, technically-killed him once, and he just came back. Didn't even give a shit that his brains had been blown out. So Jebus killed him again, a sword through the chest. Sounded painful as shit, but apparently not to him. He just... came back. Again, and again, and again. Fuckin' annihilating everything in his path. I'm just lucky I was pulled outta the way before he reached me, god knows there were a lot who weren't. I guess I have Sanford to thank for that.

It had just been a normal day. I was chilling with a couple Agents at some bar the Sheriff owned. By Agents I mean complete dickheads. By chilling I mean tryna get my cigarettes back from 'em.
It always surprises me how much you fuck with people you when you think they'll stay below ya. I mean, I guess I do the same, but that's because the guys I fuck with will actually stay below me. Generally about six feet below me.
Get it? 'Coz I'm... good at killin' people?
Well I guess now I'm good at rekillin' people. Seeing as I'm in purgatory now and whatnot.
Whatever. Stress made me smoke, and at that point I really needed to. So I was tryna reach for them, but those Agents were really tall, and they kept 'em just outta my reach. I almost had them, and all of a sudden the door slides open. And this grunt-muscly, serious guy-comes in and sits down at a booth in the corner.
Those thick-headed Agents decided to see if they could fuck with him. And one of 'em goes up to him, alright? And he goes "we own this place, how did you get in here?"
And that guy goes "I killed the bouncer." No expression change. Didn't even look up at the Agent. Just fucking sat there.
And then the Agent looks back at his buddies, and nobody knows what the fuck is going on, right? And then the guy that went up to the grunt spins his bottle round in his hand, and he goes to smash it into the mans head. And then the dude just grabs his hand and pulls him towards him, and the Agent's head just smashes into the booth table. And there's blood fuckin' everywhere. And all the grunts are screamin' and runnin' out, and I'm frozen-like, I dunno what the fuck is happenin'-and the Agents all grab their weapons and the guy's just moving between 'em all, fucking everything and everyone up. And the last guy just grabs a knife that he had and points it at the dude-fuckin' points it-but the dude just takes it off him and stabs him in the neck. Blood's runnin' down the knife, and onto the guys hand, and I'm still in there, an' I'm just sitting there. And then I saw my pack of cigarettes on the ground-some Agent musta' dropped 'em-and, yeah, it's fuckin' stupid to move in that scenario-but fuck. If there was ever a time to be stressed, this was fuckin' it. And I reach over to 'em, and then the guy's kneeling down beside me, and he's like "you know smoking is bad for you, right?"

And holy fuckin' shit, I can't speak. For the first time in my life, my loudass mouth didn't wanna move. I'm scared half to hell, and I don't know how the fuck I'm gonna get outta this one.
And then the door slides open, and a new guy walks in. And this is the guy that I had heard about. The unkillable. The immortal. The man with a mission. Hank.
And Hank walks up to me-really fuckin' tall by the way, that's not even because I'm kinda short, he's just a fuckin' skyscraper-and he goes "why did you leave this one?"
An' I'm just thinkin' holy shit, I'm gonna fuckin' die. I mean, Hank is standing right fuckin' in front of me, and I'm too scared to even move.

And I'm talkin' to myself, tryna work up the courage to make a break for it, and I just fuckin' bolt. And I'd make it, too, but I had to stop and think about the fuckin' cigarettes. And I stop and turn around and holy shit, Hank is tall. And I'm like, 'well I can't run now, I'm fucked.' And before I know it, I'm in the fuckin' dirt. He's got his hand on my chest, and I'm struggling, right, but he's just holdin' me down like it's not even any trouble. And I'm thrashing around, and I somehow kick the fucker across the face. And he just looks at me like 'huh, not bad', and then he just absolutely smashes me across the head. And I'm like "fuckin' hell!" Which-yeah, now I've dealt with a lot more pain, but this guy could seriously punch.
And now he takes out his gun and puts it in my mouth, and I'm like "wait!" And he stops.
And I say "can't I have a cigarette before I die?"
Wow. Great fuckin' final request Deimos.