And with a flash, a knock, a bump and a startle, having just experienced the thrashing rage of Lynch , Poe was lying upside in the back of a van, tasting blood not of his own variety, unaware of his surroundings or the passage of time that had occurred. This blood was strong, potent. It’s what brought him back.
The man it came from introduced himself only as Anton. Brusque in manner, tough looking, short haired and sporting an intricate dragon tattoo on his arm. He seemed less interested in Poe, than the guns that had arrived. And at this point the old bruiser found another moment to grasp his environment more accurately.
There was a commotion, fellows of large and leisurely stature carrying boxes around while Walter was conversing with Anton. They seemed to be arguing over the other bodies. And as Poe looks back at the van, there lie forms too familiar for comfort. The newly acquainted Perseus, all contorted and dry, and the poor little Melvyn, still fresh enough to permit false hope of vitality. The feeling of dread crawled over Poe’s entire being. The images last seen before falling dark, Lynch coming for Poe, while Perseus tried to intervene.
“Did Lynch kill him? What happened to Melvyn??” – questions running over each-other in Poe’s mind. -_ “Where is he now?? I’ll fucking end him”_
And like a jolt, calming the storm that was brewing inside his head, except for one clear thought.
“Why am I still alive? If Lynch killed Perseus, then why am I still here? What the fuck is going on?”
With newfound vigor Poe approached Walter and threw his questions in a bunch, before noticing something weird. What was once a calm, collected and quite attractive gentleman was now a jittery, tense and ravaged individual, who seems to have encountered the wrong side of a flamethrower. Without saying much Walter just opened his devices and showed a recording from the home security system.
It was hard to make out at first, but it was the lobby of their house. After a few seconds the doors burst open with Perseus and Melvyn walking inside carrying a body.
Walter casually points out that it was Poe they brought back.
“So Perseus defeated Lynch?..” his mind was still trying to connect the dots and fill the gaps in his memory. “But then.. what happened afterwards?”
With questions left unanswered, for Alistair knew no more than Poe himself, they took the bodies back to the house. A drive home in heavy silence, both parties pondering their own regrets and weaknesses against overwhelming disappointment and sadness. The conflict that seemed so meager a moment ago, suddenly crashes into them with a force of a freight train. Only thing left is to figure out what to do next…
Unfortunately, fate had other plans in store. As they both go to sleep in a house, that just a few weeks ago seemed so full of life, now barren and empty, the day breaks and sunlight brings the beasts inside to rest. Except this time the sun seems to have crept inside, flushing through the halls of the first and second floors, blazing it’s way up the stairs until finally it stood witness to Poe and Walter at their most vulnerable. Like two sworn enemies, one elicits the other and the beast, sensing danger, goes against his nature to wake himself. With utmost resilience Poe wakes up in a terrible state, dazed and confused, unsure why it’s so bright in here. Then reality hits him like a baseball bat – black churning smoke fills the room and the heat is getting unbearable – the building is on fire!. Sensing he’s not much for this world, Poe quickly sizes up a plan to grab a chance at survival. A quick dash to the bathroom, a thrash at the pipes, wrap up in a blanket and await the inevitable demise that comes after such a lackluster plan is executed.
Having grabbed the blanket, Poe opens the door to the main room of his apartment as he is suddenly met with a blast of heat and blinding light. Even in such a torpid stupor, the beast flairs up and overrides normal functions inciting his own plan of action. Which.. ended up being in line with the original vapid strategy of running into the bathroom and getting as wet as possible. With one exception being the blanket. With a heroic leap over the flames, Poe finds himself in the bathroom, with tiles and piping separating him from the savory liquids inside. A quick debate was made against the position of the tiles and the integrity of the pipes with arguments darted left and right in quick succession until eventually the opposition gave in.
As soon as the room got sprayed with glorious steamy flux, the beast collapsed and returned a servant into darkness, having nothing else to do except pray.
Where was once lying, now was sitting and Poe opens his eyes to find himself in a room. A room a lot less hot than he was just in. A good sign. A room with two beating hearts. A good sign. A chair with constraints on his arms and legs. A… bad sign..
After a brief exchange of polite niceties and the name Anton thrown about, the couple of beating hearts left the room and Poe, satisfied that the situation would soon be resolved, seemed content to wait it out. He is in good hands.. Or at least, not so bad.. “I mean.. He was the one who brought me back..”
A few elongated moments later 3 gentlemen of different builds step in. They seemed like men who can take care of themselves, men of learning, men without a pulse. A quick chat commenced, the name Walter unrecognized, at which point one of them let slip a tidbit of talk, a tiny smidgen of truth escaped his mouth which might have sounded like “The other guy? Didn’t they say he croaked?”
Then, a smaller gentleman looked Poe straight in the eye and uttered the most vile phrase that could have entered his ears.
“I guess Walter’s dead now”
I guess Walter’s dead now