Strangely enough, it didn't end at a camp. Nor at a city, nor even in a bloodbath, or on Kenzie's dying and/or rotting body, no.
It ended in a clearing.
A small, almost acutely carved area sat atop a small space, a few dead trees surrounding it. Nothing stood out to me: No bodies, nor blood, nor weapons laid upon the floor, yet this is where the trail finally draws to a close
I'm too late. Nature, the bastard, took my chance
"FUCK!" I screamed into the day's end, finally accepting my situation:
I failed.
"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" I continued to scream into the emptiness, my eyes armed at the heavens, trying to find some form of clarity, some form of answers. And yet nothing.
I was just as lost as before.
They saved my life, and yet I cannot save theirs.
My eyes came back down, and as my vision refocused, I noticed an anomaly: A butcher.
'Adam, The Butchers may be monsters, but they are in tune with nature. They can be as silent as a mouse, and as deadly as a gun. It's why we sleep with walls around us mostly. If we didn't? We wouldn't stand a chance.'
They stood dead in the middle of the clearing, not moving, not flinching, simply watching. It looked like the strangest contrast: A human, in ragged clothes, holding a stained weapon, stood inside of an almost perfect setting. My blood, just like before, began to boil in my veins, rushing through my system and blasting through my ears. The Butcher stood with a sword: A rusted, jagged tool about half the size of his arm. I thought about drawing my pistol, but decided against it, retrieving my blade. Dropping my pack to allow me to be more agile, I faced my enemy, around ten steps away. The breeze gently rustled through the threads of grass laying around, the dirt being gently swept by it. Clenching my left arm, ready to fight, I realised I needed information more than a kill.
"Where's Kenzie?" I called out to them, culling my anger for a moment: Yet it rose once again as The Butcher stood for a moment, eyes staring into my soul, before glancing down at their blade as if deciding which part of my body to remove with it first.
"Behind me. Not far behind me. But to get to them..." They took a stance, blade held with both hands, almost centred in their body, before focusing back on me.
"You'll have to get through me."
Raising my knife to my side, I warned them: "We don't have to do this, you know. Just let me past. I don't have to kill you."
"You didn't have to kill Orion either. Where is he?" They retorted, anger visible on their face as the world continued around us. I stayed silent, simply gritting my teeth.
"Exactly. Yes, I do. I have to avenge my own."
"I'm doing the exact same thing. And you, are standing in my way." I took a few steps towards them, eyes locked onto them to watch for any sudden movements, anything I could get a quick, cheap stab into. The Butcher did not falter, nor did they look afraid as I approached.
"Then you know why I have to do this."
"No. You don't. Lower your weapon, and get out of my way." I said, my patience thinning. All I received in return was a look of malice as they steeled themselves, seemingly ready for whatever I'd throw at them.
"I've killed stronger people than you, and they definitely tasted better too." They smiled slightly, their malice showing through their stance. "And when I take back whatever is left of you? We will tear your body apart." They suddenly took a swing, which I stepped back from, staying light on my feet by swinging at their arms. Neither connected, leaving us just as before. Another quick jab from me had them taking a step back, blocking it before striking themselves, nicking the side of my right shoulder as I managed to slice their chest blindly. Both of us cursing and retreating slightly, I assessed I'd done more damage: The red gash that cut through their already torn shirt showed signs of progressive bleeding, short trails trickling from the source. Ignoring the crying pain from my own wound, I roared before rushing forward, time seeming to slow as my enemy swung horizontally, my instincts kicking in and forcing me to slide into their legs, knocking them down with a grunt as I stumbled back up, striking down and aiming for their throat. They glanced my arm with theirs, causing me to gash the side of it instead of the centre as they punched me in the face before shoving me back, giving themselves some room.
