Weirdo (Steven Grant)

Chapter 64

Sadly I haven't reached episode 5 yet, but yeah I'll try my best to be quick with episode 4.

TW: suicide attempt

As they both landed, Marc fell on top of Steven.

"Get off me!" Steven said, spitting out sand.

Steven looked around in confusion, as he breathed heavily.

"Where the hell are we now?" He asked Marc.

"Oh god." Steven said while Marc sighed.

"Harrow said you were a mercenary. That you... killed hostages."

"And you believe that?" Marc said.

"Yeah. Wouldn't put it past you." Steven spat.

"Turns out going AWOL in a fugue state gets you discharged from the military. Didn't have a ton of options after that so I went work-for-hire for my old CO Bushman. The job was to raid an Egyptian tomb. But Bushman changed the plan, called for no witnesses and I couldn't live with that."

Then Steven noticed a particular person laying on the ground.

"Is that doctor el- Faouly? Laylas dad? " Steven asked in shock.

Marc stared at him for a moment then sighed before he spoke.

"I tried to get them all away. But we didn't make it. Clearly." Marc said as he walked around and observed all the bodies.

"What happened to you?"

Marc pointed and they walked towards to where he pointed.

It was dark and dim in there, a gods statue was the only thing there. Marc crawled towards the step, groaning in pain, and noticed he was bleeding more.

He held his side, and grabbed his gun. He pointed it towards his face, he just wanted the pain to be gone. He didn't want to live this life anymore if it meant he had to deal with the guilt that surrounded him wherever he went.

Just as he was about to pull the trigger a dark and deep voice spoke.

"What a waste." The god scoffed.

"Huh?" Marc asked, wondering who the hell that was.

"I feel the pain inside of you. Ah. Hmm.."

"What the hell are you?" Marc asked, looking up at the statue that seemed to be staring him down.

"I am the god Khonshu, in search of a warrior."

Marc scoffed at his words. Marc wasnt a warrior, to himself he was worthless, and just another waste of space in the world.

"A warrior. Well good luck with that." Marc said, and pulled the gun away from his face.

"To be my hands, my eyes, my vengeance. To be my final word against the evildoers. To bind your very being to me. And eradicate only the worst, those who deserve it. Do you want death or do you want life?"

Marc stared at his gun. "I don't know."

"Your mind, I feel it. Fractured. Broken. Most fascinating. You are a worthy candidate to serve me during this time. In exchange for your life, do you swear to protect the travelers of the night? And bring my vengeance to those who would do them harm?"

"That sneaky old vulture. He was manipulating you from the start." Steven said, staring at the scene happening before him.

"Yeah well, he kept us alive."

"Marc. He was- he was taking advantage of you." Steven said.

"Or it was just a way for me to keep being what I've always been. A killer."

"Do you swear to protect the travelers of the night?" And bring my vengeance to those who would do them harm?" Khonshu repeated himself when Marc didn't answer.

"Yes."

"Look." Steven pointed. "The scales. Have we done it? Have we balanced them?" Steven asked as they both stared at the scales.

"Then rise. Rise and live again. As my fist of vengeance. As my moon knight."

Marc then turned into Khonshus ceremonial armor as he rose.

Steven heard creatures screeching.

"Are those... come on Marc. Let's go! " they both went back onto the boat where Taweret was standing there.

"Taweret what's going on?"

"Fear is spreading in the upper world. Unbalanced souls are being judged or condemned to the sands before their time. Oh this is bad. This is evil."

It was Arthur. Both Steven and Marc knew that much.