Long Live The King | Villain!PghLFilms AU | BOOK ONE

Chapter 5 - "Fuck it up, George And Willow." - 3rd Person

This chapter contains violence, blood, a tiny bit of foul language, and semi-graphic descriptions of gore. If any of those make you uncomfy, I suggest that you do not read this part.
Also, note that: I am not shipping George and Willow in this chapter. I more so see them with a sister-brother figure relationship. Please don't take any affectionate things they do in this chapter as shipping, as I do not ship them at all, and 90% of them are Willow trying to comfort George. Thank you. :)
I am also absolutely garbage at writing fight scenes. I sincerely apologize for that.
Sorry for the super long wait, enjoy! ^^

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His head was pounding.

Blood poured down his face and turned his vision red.

His crown lay on the ground, the gems on it either cracked or broken off.

His cape was burned and torn from him flying and kicking it as he went.

Though for some reason, he kept fighting.

Something in him wouldn't stop.

His wounds burned and bled, but that didn't stop him.

Despite the rage that filled every move. Every punch, every kick, every scream. He still felt something beneath it all. But he couldn't put his finger on it, nor did he care enough to try to. His suit was breaking, paint and metal chipped and broken. Nothing seemed to stop him from the rage he put towards the ones he was fighting.
He, amongst the anger, felt a bit of numbness blossoming. It grew, slowly, until he felt almost completely numb. Shutting out the screams of his past self trying to reach him as he was tortured by the thoughts he had that had taken the form of a feminine tormentor.

He didn't care anymore.

His suit around his hands had broken open, and his knuckles bled. The crimson liquid dripped to the tile.

George was down on one knee, his chest heaving, he coughed up a bit of blood. Willow stood in front of him, her hands shaking slightly as she pointed her revolver up at him. "What the hell happened to you!?" Willow shouted but received no reply. Her finger rested on the trigger.

"You truly think you can defeat us?" Willow yelled, her voice shaking, "It's two against one. Why don't you just give it up, and don't you dare come any closer." Lego still said nothing. His hands began to glow once more.

As he suddenly swooped down for another attack, Willow shut her eyes and pulled the trigger. The bang rang in her ears. She opened her eyes, and he was gone. She couldn't see him, despite looking around this throne-room-like room. She could hear a faint wheeze and a cough. George took a hold of her arm and pulled himself up. Apologizing quickly for suddenly grabbing her. Willow forgave him, allowing him to hold onto her arm for stability.

She felt a sudden wind shoot past her and then something impaled her shoulder.

George whipped around and struck out with his bat, but met nothing with it. Willow dropped to the ground with a grunt of pain, she breathed deeply through her nose to hold back the scream of pure agony that nearly exploded from her. George staggered as quickly as he could to her side, examining the wound. It was bleeding heavily, blood dripping to the ground and making a puddle a little too quickly for comfort. "Are you breathing alright?" He asked, occasionally looking around him for Lego, assuming he was the one who'd stabbed her. Willow nodded, her hand balled into a tight fist. She reached out to grab her gun and stood up. Her other hand pressed to the wound as she looked around.

"I don't think this is a fight we can win," George admitted. He lowered his bat a little, looking up at Willow. Through her agonized panting, Willow got out, "We've come so far...We can't just..Leave..!" She coughed and hissed out in pain at the sudden jolt of her body. "Willow, you'll bleed out if we don't go bandage you up. That's a really nasty wound. We can come back once we have stronger defenses. We know what we're dealing with now." George snapped.