BATIM ~Striker and female reader~ REMAKE

Ch.8

(Y/N) Pov: 

“Barley? Why are you pretending to be one of our clones?” asked Charley, shocked and confused. 

“Because 'hese 'wo idio's came ou' ov nowhere, 'hinkin I was 'heir los' comrade. Bu'cher Gang clones stick 'oge'her in groups wi'h a Fisher, Piper, an' S'riker” said Barley, walking over to us. 

He kept holding his head in his hands, that way it wouldn’t sway around when he moved. 

The Piper and Striker clones were looking confused, watching Barley walk over to us, a look of hurt in their….eyes….I think.

Barley glanced over at them and sighed. 

“'ate to tell ye fellas, but these be me real gang members. Now go, scram, find yer Fisher before we decide to kill ye” said Barley, shooing them away. I lowered the axe I was still carrying, Striker crossing his arms and looking away. 

The two clones looked down at the floor, walking off sadly. 

“Barley! I’m glad we managed to find you down here” said Charley, smiling happily. 

“Glad ye finally decided to show to the sky. I don't know 'ow much longer I could 'ave gone pretendin'. Who be the lass anyway? Be she a Lost One, or just another Sammy Lawrence?” asked Barley, he and Charley shaking hands. 

“No, I’m very much a normal human girl. I’m only down here because that fucking bitch friend of mine came up with a bet she knew I would refuse doing, so I had to stay the night in the studio. Of course, things went horribly wrong when I stupidly turned on that machine” I said, crossing my arms and scowling. 

“Oh, and the name’s (Y/N)” I said, almost forgetting to tell him my name. 

“I see. An' Edgar! I be so glad ye be alright!” said Barley, smiling as he let go of his head, grabbing Striker and pulling him into a tight hug. 

Striker scowled, trying to push himself away. 

Barley pulled away and held his head with one hand, patting Striker's head with his other. 

Striker growled in anger before attempting to bite Barley’s hand with the mouth on his head.

“Ye sure 'ave become a biter now, with that there extra mouth on yer 'ead. An' to think ye barely used yer fangs, Edgar” chuckled Barley, managing to pull his hand away quickly. 

“I''s S'riker now, no' Edgar. Le''s jus' ge' ou' ov 'ere so we can kill 'ha' demonic angel” said Striker, his scowl turning into a glare as he walked off, going up the stairs. 

“What's 'is problem?” asked Barley, frowning as he watched the youngest Butcher Gang member stalk off. 

“No clue. I’m sure it’s just a phase. How old is he again? I can’t remember. Eh, he’s probably just going through a moody teenage phase” said Charley, shrugging. 

Barley glanced up at me as Charley struggled to walk up the stairs. 

I noticed the look on his face. 

“I only just met Striker not too long ago. He even tried to hide the fact that he was in the Butcher Gang. I met him closer to the surface, the floor just below the main entrance. He said he was up there because he was trying to stay away from Twisted Alice, but now I’m starting to think that’s not the reason. He did just attack the Projectionist with no problem. Surely he would do the same with that demonic angel” I explained, shrugging.

“Hmm...I be not sure if I should be tellin' ye this here. I be not sure if Edgar even told ye, but it be the reason why me an' Charley let 'im join the Butcher Gang” said Barley, glancing back up, seeing Charley had made it to the top of the stairs.