The Marshal shook his head, of course the stupid rookie couldn't have just went in smart, had to get his ass choked out, but he couldn't help but respect the freak for playing hero. Reminded him of himself in the war, sure he got his ass kicked by his commander. But between the two of them? Though these were civilians, getting rid of them was paramount, make it look like a suicide, hell maybe even get Overkill to eat them or whatever the fuck. "Fuuuuuuuck." He was so fucking done with today, he just wanted to grab the target grill him for details and not babysit a man-child with a hero complex. "Screw it." Walking over to overkill, he nudged him with his boot, then kicked him. Seeing he was still out cold he kneeled over his prone body and snapped a small object in front of Overkill's beast-like face.
Overkill woke up to a powerful smell of ammonia, his fucked up arms were the first thing to wake up on him. "Fuck my arms!" He was back to normal, as fucked up as his face was, it was a fucked up that was natural to him. Marshal sneered at him, Overkill fucked up bad, really bad. "I'm sorry boss-" Marshal got up and shook his head, his leather mask shining in the dim light of the basement. "You failed a direct order to come directly back to the safehouse after you grabbed the groceries."
He shook his head turning his head to the unconscious duo that had gotten the better of Overkill. "See, I've been wondering why your heart rate was so high, I talked to the boy above." His voice softened as he picked up the girl he had covered with his trench coat. "You're a good guy, even if you play hero, you got your ass kicked for some stupid brats." He continued up the stairs leaving Overkill alone with his thoughts, a moment too long. Overkill was... overwhelmed.. did he impress him? or did he piss him off so bad he lost his voice and was planning on when to kick his teeth in?
Overkill looked at the Father and Brother who were left behind by Marshal. They looked much more injured than when Overkill had come down to the basement. He heard the same loud boots he heard, The Marshal had returned. Overkill swallowed his fear, preparing himself for whatever discipline Marshal was going to give him, his peers in his youth back in the satellite incubator had taught him that disobeying superiors end with beatings and punishment. He prepared himself for whatever punishment he deserved.
The Marshal tilted his head.. was this guy serious? He laughed, shook his head, and between fits of uncharacteristic laughter he spoke "Are you serious? I'm not gonna report you or whatever, look you followed your gut, just next time if you're gonna make someone swallow their teeth, call me." He offered a hand that Overkill hesitantly took, still laughing. "Look at ya, you're acting like you just shat yourself."
Overkill's arms were cracking back into place the loud sounds of his healing body contrasted from the fear he felt, he just stood there pale, his face descended a while ago, now instead of looking like a skinless dog, but now he just looked like some sewer mutant fucked a cenobite, and then the offspring crawled out of a raging fire. Overkill just caught his breath, the Marshal, hero hunter extraordinaire let him off with a slap on the wrist.. despite being dressed like a fascist gimp. He was a pretty alright guy. Marshal went back up the stairs, a final time leaving Overkill with the perps.
Seeing that Marshal had left him alone, he turned back to the unconscious duo, and tied them to a chair, his felt raw, the adrenaline from before drained replace with a tired empty feeling. He knows he fucked up, he had to make sure that they 'went away'.. but that was already his plan. He walked up the stairs, only returning with a laptop he had taken from Arata and some speakers, then he started playing music as he got prepared for what came next, he taped the mouths of the father and half-brother, and started playing 'New Mexico by Johnny Hobo' as he got to work. he waltzed around the room, occasionally slicing up the two. "They said to just be ourselves but we all knew that was never good enough, They said we had every chance but how could we not fuck it all up?" He sung as the two resisted against their, this was Overkill's element, following orders, being the hero he was 'trained' to be, he was Frankenstein's monster doing exactly what Frankenstein wanted.
The Marshal sat there, sharing occasional awkward and sympathetic glances with the perturbed Arata. The young man couldn't believe what had happened, one moment he was lamenting the events he was going through, the next moment he has psychopath singing badly in his basement and was sitting across from some authority figure dressed like another brand of psycho. He didn't say anything, and just held the love of his life close, she was wrapped in a large comforter, she was traumatized unable to speak. Finally, the Marshal spoke up and broke the silence. "So.. uh.. do you know where you keep your trash bags and bleach?" Arata sat there stunned, trying to find the words to answer the nonchalant question. "I.. I'll go grab some." the Marshal nodded, and follow him, leaving the young woman to rest, and find some peace in the aftermath of such violence, both the one she had been victim to, and the one she had witnessed.
Overkill was singing poorly to the tune of 'Sideshow by Blue Magic' this'll make a mess sure, but there was something about slicing people that spoke to him, something that was deeper than just human enjoyment or contentment.. it was like something deeper than the mind, the memory of his flesh.. as he sang, his voice dying down, he looked over their bloodied bodies he felt hunger, hunger like he had never known before. it was like an addict seeing the drug that had ruined them in front of them. His consciousness faded, his mind started to haze over, his face distorted. he didn't need to see, he didn't need to hear.. his senses receded into his body, his mouth took over as he lurched over to the dying men. subconsciously preparing for what happened next his teeth grew sharper into a predatory and sadistic smile. The last thing the two criminals saw, whom were protected by money, connections and their own manipulative natures, they had seen that they were not captives anymore, but a meal for something alien.
The Marshal threw the bodies in the garbage bags, he bleached the floors, the red marking on the wall he assumed to be a person. Overkill wasn't a reason he'd help cover the rookie's tracks, but seeing the situation, he wasn't just hiding a good intentioned killer's tracks, he was giving Arata and the girl, whom he learned was named Koharu. He made sure to keep his distance from them. His uniform was made to inspire fear in criminals, the one man police squad, aside from the freak he was partnered with who was doing god knows what in the basement. He gave Arata and Koharu a curt nod and headed into the basement. Whatever he was doing shouldn't be so.. quiet. The singing that was grating became more quiet, the music stopped suddenly.
This was suspicious. He opened the basement's door. It was darker than how he last left it, he heard a distant growl he had only heard once, decades ago, he couldn't put his finger on it, he's seen crazy shit both while and off duty. Each step felt like a moment away from giving under, the stairway went further than he first thought, then as he approached the second door it was a smell that he was familiar with. Blood, but there was another smell, something that was much more uncommon for him to encounter, singed flesh. He opened the basement door and what he saw was overkill hunched over a slick dark puddle. The only light coming in was the light from the doorway. Overkill turned his head toward the Marshal, then almost just as quickly skittered off into the dark.
The Marshal sighed, of course Overkill went rabid again. "Look I'm finished cleaning, so unless you want to learn Japanese and fight colorful-haired people daily, come out. Overkill walked back into the dim-light of the streets, eerie with how quiet it was. "Right, can't wait to get home with all the guns, gang violence and shoot outs. I'd probably have to learn kung-fu or something if I stayed here." Marshal shook his head chuckling at the ignorant comment. "Yeah sure, let's get outta here freak, you get rid of the bodies after doing whatever ya did?" Overkill nodded, throwing on his suit-jacket and one-eyed burlap sack. "Yeah, yeah, didn't want to leave any evidence. I think. I passed out and then woke up to nothing but a puddle of green shit." Marshal nodded, tired of Overkill's bullshit. "Come on, asshole let's go we've spent too much time screwing around here."
As Marshal left into the stairway that lead back up, overkill looked down at the scarred and reddish flesh that was his hand, as he dreamed he learned more of the secrets of his flesh, there were no voices, no secret gods, no angels or devils. Only him and his heretical flesh. he followed him up the stairs, not bothering to look at Arata or his girlfriend. He had shown his hand, and like everyone else he was disgusting to them, a monster in flesh made for a world that only became crueler and crueler for the innocent, where crimes had no limits, only the extent of what we could process. He wasn't like others forged in immaculate test tubes, a homosexual birth, born from the science of man, his namesake was Overkill he liked who he was, he wished others liked violence too. He couldn't possibly understand why people didn't like what he did. He like the Marshal, he let him get away with violence.
As they left Arata's abode, covered in more blood than most people should have on them. "Hey boss?" Overkill said his hands in his pocket, his voice muffled behind the burlap sack that hid his fucked up visage. "Yeah rookie?" The Marshal replied his leather mask pulled up so he could smoke. "So where we heading to next?" The Marshal raised an eyebrow at that response, but didn't answer. He wanted whatever happened next to be unknown, something that he didn't have to explain away or think about, something he just had to do. "All ya need to know, is that we're leaving the continent of the Ruin Fields, we're heading east." Overkill perked up. "East?" Marshal nodded, trying to hide how he felt, walking further along with a stoic voice. "You ever hear of the ancient land of 'Europe'?"