The Stronghold

Ka-Boom

Salt rose off the table and took off his hat, carrying it under his arm. A white walking stick with a golden, rounded top appeared in his free hand and Salt smiled.

"Jeremy," he repeated, walking towards the stunned man, "whatever was that for?"

"I was told to," Jeremy replied in a hoarse voice. "You're dead, sir."

"Sir?" Salt echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"I used to work for you," Jeremy rumbled on. "In the lower levels. But I worked directly for Albin. My wife and I, we, we both worked there. She was a lot younger than me and people scorned us. You scorned us."

"I really can't remember you," Salt apologised. "But your wife... Natalie, yes? Natalie Richards."

"Yes."

"That would make you... someone. Anyway, your wife, she was a very, very bad girl." Salt smirked and put his hat back on, lowering the peak of his hat so that it covered the upper half of his face.

"What do you mean?" Jeremy growled, starting forwards. "What did you do to my wife?"

"Nothing," Salt protested, raising his hands, walking stick swinging. "It's what she did to me, however, is what really grates on my nerves."

"What?"

"And my dad. Ooh, that was naughty." Salt smirked again and ran his fingers across the brim of his hat.

"Natalie was faithful," Jeremy snarled, grabbing Salt's collar and throwing him at the glass windows. "She would never do anything like that!"

Salt hurtled backwards and then stopped, swirling around in the air like a marionette on strings. He had no wings, nothing to keep him up and yet he was floating above a nearby table like there was no point in walking anymore.

"I never implied that," Salt laughed. "No, what I was going to say is that she tried to burn us both alive. Naughty, naughty Natalie. That's why I had to get her shot." Salt shrugged. "No big deal."

"No big deal?" Jeremy cried. "She's dead!"

"So are you," Salt said, "you just don't know it yet. A zombiefied substance, created by... Ooh, let's see. Shabby workmanship, a drugged state, used to do dirty work, carrying weaponry. It could only be Blizzard's work, am I right?"

"How many of those stupid weather companies are there?" I said loudly, exasperated.

"Lots," was Salt's reply. "You know of Rainfall, Thunder, Hurricane and now, Blizzard. Right?"

"Yeah, I think so. I haven't really been keeping track."

"You really should," Salt said to me with a frown. "It might be important."

"Rainfall's gone, Thunder's gone, Hurricane gave up and Blizzard has just started," I said, ticking them off on my fingers. "I think that only weird zombie place is important right now."

"Just like in Outlast," Trix chipped in. I frowned at him but he missed it, moving his gaze to a terrified Jeremy.

"Am I really dead?" the man whispered. Salt nodded sadly, a mock pout on his face.

"And I'm going to have to send you on your way," he said, pointing the golden end of the walking stick at Jeremy. A golden beam shot out and exploded on impact, surrounding Jeremy. Within seconds he had gone but what remained in his place was a small, ticking bomb.

"Oh shit," I said just as the bomb exploded.

Fire burst out and everything moved in slow motion. The glass was breaking, tiles were cracking and people were screaming. I could see it all planned out before my eyes - Salt ducking and covering his face with the golden top of his top hat, hair blowing backwards from the shockwave. I saw Tom catapult backwards straight into a metal supporting beam, blood spilling from his mangled head. Elenia screamed once, a note of sorrow and pain just before a broken glass bottle embedded itself in her chest. Beads of red blood dotted her blouse but then her heart stopped beating and her eyes saw nothing more.