iNTER - Skullgirls Skullworld - Act 1

Ch. 15 -For Act 2- The Sleep

Edit Note : Title Change from -For Arc 2- to -For Act 2-

(Reader Note: This is a short story of a much more detailed version of each Axelrod outside of the Skullgirls universe.)

Pistol woke up in a dark sea it was like he was drifting; his body feels weightless. He was drifting in the black void of space where he drifts constantly to somewhere he doesn't know where but somewhere.

Pistol: I remember how my personalities came to be. Where am I...why do I feel sleepy? It's so dark yet I feel like I'm in the sea. The sounds of waves, it's so soothing. I'll just sleep for a few *yawn* hours.

May 6, 1860

American San Diego -12:36pm-

Nesting between two desert mountains was a cabin that hid in the shade of those two mountains, the cabin was small in size that would able to occupy one person with a small workbench in the side, that included pots with cactuses that vary in shapes and sizes that are set in front of the cabin.

Inside the small cabin was a man a tall man about +6ft and was writing on a book about fossils with the man murmuring about the bones he found. As, he scribbles down the inked words with a fountain pen that covered multiple papers about his studies.

He looked around to see his drawings of multiple fossils found in his journey of being a paleontologist his research of ancient dinosaurs and plants have been very fascinating, but what's even more fascinating was the box collection of a mysterious arrows he found in his very own dig site, near his own cabin.

He had them delivered to the museum for the professionals to see, from its odd design it was like made from some place in Asia but once, they are placed in the glass was stolen at the first day of its exhibit. Though from what the detectives found out the glass was broken from the inside with no signs of explosions.

Turns out the arrows returned back to John D. Axletree's vicinity every time it has been placed away from him. The people in the museum thought he stole it back, but even if the arrows are guarded 24/7 it somehow disappeared and always return back to John.

However, John had enough with the bull shit and angrily grabs the tip of the arrows with his left hand, which in turn cut open a wound in his hand. He looked at the huge cut on his hand that pulsed blood out of it, then started to loose it and screamed while he started grabbing a bar soap and pulled a semi-rusted bucket of water from an icebox.

He cleaned the wound with cold water to numb the pain and cleaning it with soap to remove the germs entering his wound, which back then getting sick would be a death sentence for you.

After a good long while of paranoia of making sure he did not get sick, John bandaged the large wound that was clotted by his blood. He took a minute to calm down then look at his bandaged hand, then felt like his soul was splitting to two and grew dizzy.

John: Christ sakes, *snickering* I'm afraid of death when I'm surrounded by old bones of already dead animals. And I'm talking to myself, hopefully I won't pass that part of me to my children.

John: Now...the person behind me can talk? I know yer there...okay, just don't hurt me when I turn...around. Oh what the hell are you.

John looked at a figure that was pale as bone but covered in animal pelts, hides of lizards or snakes, weaves of straws, and ripped black cloths, all had a golden rose nested on each cloth the figure had.

While its face looked female, the hands were only things that reveal the body parts of the figure. With a Native American feather hat with each feather gilded gold with a black tip at the end that compliments its own eyes.