BATIM ~Striker and female reader~ REMAKE

Ch.11

(Y/N) Pov: 

Our little group trudged down the long tunnel, following the tracks along the ground. 

The tunnel looked to be made of bricks with a bunch of cardboard cutouts scattered around. 

Some of the cutouts include ghosts with little angel wings. 

Everyone was silent. 

Charley was walking in the front of the group, having separated himself from us. He was walking tall and straight, his arms behind his back, holding his wrench in his hand. 

Barley walked just a few feet behind him, his head in his hands. He hadn’t said anything since Striker’s outburst. 

The Projectionist was walking beside me, his lightbulb shining brightly, providing us with enough light to see where we were going. 

As for Striker, he was walking just behind us, choosing to distance himself from Charley, his arms crossed and scowling down at the ground.  

I sighed. 

“Come on you two. What will it take for you to forgive each other?” I asked, looking down at Charley. 

The leader scoffed, continuing to lead us down the tunnel.

“What’s there to apologize? I did nothing wrong” he said, not turning around. 

“Ov course no'...” muttered Striker quiet enough for Charley to not hear. 

I sighed. 

I then halted in my tracks. 

The others stopped walking as well, turning to see why I stopped. 

“Ok. I don’t know anything about your problems with each other, but what I DO know is you’ve all got problems” I said, crossing my arms and glaring at the three gang members. 

The Projectionist made some clicking and whirring noises, as if offended with my remark. 

“Not you. The Butcher Gang!” I said, scowling and gesturing to the three gang members. 

The Projectionist perked up, nodding in understanding, crossing his arms and looking down at the three.

Barley sighed and nodded in agreement, Charley looked insulted, and Striker just scowled, his arms still crossed. 

“I don't have problems. Edgar is the one acting like a moody teenager!” said Charley, pointing an accusing finger at the spider. 

Striker’s eyes widened before turning to glare at the primeape-like creature. I could only assume Charley is some sort of primeape, such as a chimp, from the way he looked on the poster. 

“I've go' problems!? Wha' abou' you? You’re 'he one who fawced us 'o search 'hrough Ber'rum's remains lookin faw your stupid wrench!” exclaimed Striker, pointing an accusing finger back at Charley. 

Charley scoffed, rolling his eyes. 

“Sure I do” he said sarcastically. 

Striker growled in anger before pouncing on him, using his mechanical arm to punch Charley in the face. 

Charley struggled to break free, taking the first few punches. 

He then caught Striker’s arm, stopping the next punch from landing a hit. 

Angered, Striker drew his arm back before driving it down hard, attempting to punch Charley’s face with his fist harder than the last few punches, but Charley managed to move his head out of the way, causing the fist to get driven into the wooden floor instead.