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64: Oh, Catastrophe

Chapter Sixty-Four: Oh, Catastrophe

Marceline's voice was raised in querulous protest, drawing the men's attention, especially Ash, who closed the distance between himself and her. She so badly wanted to go straight up to him and punch him square in the face but her restricted movement plus the concurrent sound of metals clanking reminded her of her predicament. "Let him go, you psycho jerk!"

"Sit back down, Mar-Mar!" he shoved her down to the floor.

"Don't touch her!" Marshall spat out his words. A pained expression passed over his face, but the malice in his voice compensated for his obvious weakness. "Don't you dare lay another finger on her."

The white-haired guy cackled. "What are you gonna do about it, huh?" he challenged, slowly squatting down beside the raven-haired girl. Roughly, he whipped her head back by the hair then casted a condescending glance toward the vampire before doing what he did next.

"Ugh, get off me!" Marceline grimaced in revulsion when Ash's lips pressed against her jaw, his action provoking a string of profanities to spout from the vampire's mouth. She squirmed uncomfortably but he kept a firm grasp on her, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down to her neck. "S-Stop!" Then to aggravate the vampire further, he forcibly grabbed her face in his hand and kissed her on the mouth. Outraged, she bit his bottom lip, making it bleed, which incited him to slap her out of anger.

"I said don't touch her!" Marshall bellowed and extended his arms out further, trying to scratch and claw his way toward them but to no avail as the men stomped the silver net down on him, snickering. His facial muscles twitched as he gritted his teeth and bore with the excruciating pain.

Then something else caught the vampire's eye. His axe guitar, on the floor, situated nearby. With fingers outstretched, his neck tensed, his breathing slowed and deepened as he focused his eyes - and more importantly, his mind - on the red instrument. It hovered in the air animately, earning gasps and murmurs from the group of men. Ash ceased his unbecoming act to see what was going on but the second he stood and turned around, he was greeted by a mighty swing of a guitar body, sending him reeling several feet away from Marceline.

A man with a crew cut and another with the spiked hair went to assist their boss man. Marshall clenched his fist, telekinetically transporting his axe guitar toward his direction at a high speed. The great impact flung the men who circled him off their feet, cutting them down. The silver net was let go, enabling him to roll onto his back to break free of the restraints, the smoke from his burns rising up.

He flew over to Marceline, severing the chains of the handcuffs and shackles using the blade of his axe guitar with precision so as not to hurt her. Then he dropped his precious instrument, and it was like they had never been apart really, as they embraced with such ardor. Their arms clasped around each other and their chests pressed together. Neither of them wanted to let go.

"Marceline Abadeer, you crazy girl," Marshall said with a stern look, constituting tough love. "Don't ever leave me again."

She smiled. "I won't."

A man lunged at him with a knife but the vampire caught the hand which tried to jab him and snapped it at the wrist, twisting it outward like he was turning a doorknob. The man hollered in pain, and the vampire took his shirt in his hands, shoving him up against the wall. Marceline couldn't hear the words, but she gathered the tone of whatever he's saying. She'd never seen him so intense. The moonlight drawing deep shadows under his eyes and cheekbones. His teeth and fangs bared in a snarl. His eyes smoldering, only a window to the raging fire within.

The rest of the men who recovered went to the bravo's aid, pulling Marshall off of him and surrounding him. He was one against that many. Long odds, but that didn't stop him as he used his mind once again, only this time, it wasn't telekinesis. No, he had another trick up his sleeve. He pointed his hand towards one of them, and to their astonishment, the unlucky guy was ignited. His pants and jacket were on fire, and he cried out and thrashed about, deliriously trying to remove those articles of clothing.

Pandemonium broke out as some of the men went to help put out the flames. The rest hesitated, sending glances back and forth, fingering blade and cudgel. Attack or retreat. It could go either way. Towering over them in the air, the Vampire King picked a target, one in front, and the man collapsed with a bubbling neck wound from his own weapon. One down.

"Shit, what the hell is this guy?" the spiky-haired guy, who had just been flung off, shouted in incredulity. "Vampires can't do that!"

"FYI, he's also a demon!" Marceline chimed in as she watched the vampire-demon break limbs of his attackers. A crowbar cracked down on his shoulder. He fell, dodged a boot, and rolled away. She cursed and before she could even take a step forward, she was blindsided by the white-haired guy.

"Demon, huh? Well, guess what? It doesn't matter!" Ash pinned the raven-haired girl down and squeezed her neck with full strength in an attempt to crush her windpipe. "If I can't have you, no one else can!"

His grip was steely, and fighting against his weight was futile. Marceline could feel herself fading fast. Out of desperation, she extended both her arms out, feeling around for anything she could use against him. Her fingers touched the end of something, and she grasped it. In one strong swing, she struck the heavy object (which happened to be Marshall's axe guitar) against his head and he fell off her. Coughing, she crawled to her feet, her throat in agony.

Ash, who noticed that the eighteen-year-old girl was still trying to regroup, seized the brief opportunity to assault her again, but this time, she saw him coming. She brought her knee up hard into his gut. As he crouched on the ground wheezing from the blow, a tirade of curses and vulgarities spewed out from his mouth, along with bits of spittle. From the corner of his eye, he saw that she had picked up the axe and ran away from him to help the vampire. That vampire. With a scowl, his hand took hold of the weapon wedged in his cargo pocket.

"Mars!" Marceline called out and hurled the axe guitar in the Vampire King's direction.

Marshall deftly caught the red instrument/weapon by the neck and swiped it down. The blade badly hit and glanced off a collarbone. He nodded at her in thanks and she returned the gesture. By now, most of the men had fled. The rest were probably dead or severely wounded. But those who were still there were present when it happened. And just like that, in a flash, it was all over.

There was a sound. An earsplitting sound that made everyone's jaw drop and eyes widen. Everyone, except for a certain white-haired individual. It resounded across the entire abandoned warehouse. A sound that was abrupt, unexpected. A sound that, in a split second, silenced everything else in that building.

A gunshot.