Mortuus stood and kicked a bottle across the floor, grumbling in annoyance. "Dammit! He let me in!"
He wasn't mad. In fact, it was rather impressive that he even managed to do that, but it definitely frustrated him quite a bit. Jason so easily played Mortuus as though he was an unsuspecting child. But at the same time, that made it unsettling—the calculated moves.
It was like Mortuus was playing chess, and Jason was playing four-dimensional chess and was already seven moves ahead. He knew it was not going to be easy, but Mortuus needed to find a way to get the drop on him.
He walked through the hall and made his way to the main room, "How're you today, Kassy?" he joked as he got closer to the tank. Deep down, Mortuus was actually very sad about her situation. Her L.A.S. was bordering on that of Michael's.
He stared into the tank, her soft expression still frozen in time like a picture. Mortuus felt like this was a bad decision, but something deep down told him to save her. He was practically sacrificing the world for one person, an obvious conflict with the "one must be sacrificed for the good of many" ideology that a hero is supposed to have.
Mortuus sat on the floor in front of the tank with his legs crossed over one another. He stared up at the tank, thinking about what could possibly be the cure for her condition. "I guess me and you are kinda similar, huh?" He joked, acting as though the inanimate frozen girl could respond. "We've both done a horrible thing for a good reason..."
Mortuus sighed as the only response was the icy hissing from the machine's cooling system. It just seemed to make his loneliness more evident in his head. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, holding each for a few moments before exhaling.
As he exhaled, Mortuus felt an all-too-familiar feeling, a feeling he wished he had never felt again. Something was slithering along his legs and curling up around him like a snake coiling its prey. It felt like eyes were all around him, staring deep into his soul.
As this feeling crept into him, he instinctually reached into the inside pocket of his trenchcoat. As he felt the lining inside, a new feeling arose: panic, as he felt nothing in his pocket. The pocket on the inside lining that most people didn't know of was empty.
His eyes shot open with fear as he realized what had happened. Mortuus only kept one thing in that pocket, an item more important than his marijuana pen. In that pocket, he kept the crystal heart from the Cave of Souls... A heart that was now missing.
As he reflected, it dawned on him that Jason had allowed him to get close so he could easily reach the crystal. The crystal was a physical manifestation of Mortuus's soul, making it extremely valuable but unbelievably dangerous to possess.
"Why would he want that?" Mortuus asked himself as he ran to his bedroom and threw open his top drawer. He rifled through it and grabbed out the box of bullets he had. He flipped open the box and dug around the ordinary lead bullets.
"Dammit! He's already ahead of me, that bastard!" Mortuus shouted and tossed the box as he discovered not one golden bullet. Jason had taken the only bullets capable of killing or injuring someone who the project had brought back. Without those bullets, Mortuus essentially relies on his own wit.
Mortuus kicked the wall and shouted in frustration. He popped open the barrel of his revolver and checked the bullets. Even that was cleaned out of golden bullets. Mortuus ran to the side wall and pulled up a tile.
There weren't even regular lead bullets or cheap plastic ones in his secret hiding place. Mortuus quietly cursed under his breath as he stared at the barren place. He was completely cleaned out of golden bullets.
Mortuus groaned and quickly re-buckled his boots. He stood and ran out the door, the tarp tearing off its hooks and fluttering into the bunker. He didn't care about replacing that he needed to get to the Andrews' house.
He ran through the forest, pushing aside branches and leaves as he did so. The sun was low in the sky, dipping below the trees and dancing amongst low-hanging clouds. Mortuus darted across a street and slid over a car hood before going down the abandoned road to the Andrews' house.
With agile grace, Mortuus vaulted over the jagged barrier of the rock wall; his muscles coiled like springs as he anticipated a smooth landing on the earth below, yet before his feet could land.
In a blur of shadow and malice, a Hallow descended upon Mortuus with savage ferocity, its form shrouded in darkness as it collided with him mid-air. The impact was merciless, sending shockwaves of agony rippling through Mortuus's body as he was wrenched from the sky and hurled unceremoniously into the unforgiving embrace of the adjacent wall.
The sickening crack of bone echoed through the air as Mortuus's spine met with rock, a searing lance of pain penetrating his body with merciless precision. In that agonizing moment, the world narrowed to a singular point of torment, each heartbeat a symphony of anguish as he struggled to regain his breath amidst the suffocating grip of agony.
He steadied himself with his hand, leaning his weight on it as he stood. There were shards of wood and wire sticking out of his back as he stood, remains from the old garden he crashed through before hitting the wall.
He groaned and pulled a couple of wire bits out, tossing them aside. "Well, so much for growing tomatoes next summer," He joked with a painful laugh as blood stained the black shirt beneath his trenchcoat enough to be visible.
He looked over at where he'd been hit, but the Hallow was gone. Mortuus jumped to the side as he noticed the Hallow was now behind him. Once again, his Angel Eyes had saved him. It disappeared into the ground with a smoky puff before reaching up from beneath Mortuus's feet.
With a vice-like grip, the Hallow seized Mortuus's ankles, its talon-like fingers digging into his flesh with a cruel tenacity that threatened to tear muscle from bone. As the suffocating tendrils of darkness merged behind him, another Hallow materialized, its form twisting and contorting as it closed in on Mortuus with predatory intent.
With a sickening lurch, the second Hallow ensnared Mortuus in its grasp, its arms coiling around his neck like serpents, constricting with a relentless pressure that sought to crush his throat. The air was thick with the acrid scent of decay as Mortuus fought for breath, the tendrils of darkness weaving a suffocating shroud around him.
Desperation clawed at Mortuus's mind as he thrashed against the suffocating embrace of his assailants, his fingers grappling frantically at the Hallow's wrists in a futile attempt to loosen their grip. Each movement was a symphony of agony, his muscles protesting against the relentless onslaught as he fought to break free from the suffocating grip of the shadows that threatened to engulf him whole.
He shook himself violently in an attempt to throw it off, but the Hallow's grip was much stronger than he'd expected. Its arms tightened around Mortuu's throat, the bones beneath the skin beginning to crack and give way.
Even as the bones of Mortuus's neck were snapping like twigs, the Hallow's grip tightened more. It tightened far past what would kill any normal man. More arms began sprouting from the Hallows' bodies. The one choking Mortuus thrust its new limbs into his body, gripping onto organs and similarly tightening around them like his neck.
The one holding his ankles also began to grow more limbs, doing the same thing as it tore into his stomach and ripped it out. The Hallows ripped away each organ and threw it from his body before finally pulling away his spine and fading into dust.
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