Blood calmly drips down, and each time it reaches the ground, the warm pool embraces it in a splash. The smell fills the air and the airways of the two men standing there. Below them lies a body of a young man, dirtying the ground. Next to what once was a person, a sheet of paper begins soaking with writing facing down.
Having just arrived at the crime scene, the Squad Leader looks at the scene in surprise. Something like this was expected, but seeing it with his own eyes broke his composure. In efforts to hide his secrets, he sheathes his sword and takes a few breaths. He needs to focus.
While hiding his nervous demeanour, the betrayed man questions, "What happened?"
"He betrayed us.", cold words escaped from the murderer, "Turns out he's a spy."
A concerned eye twitches, "I see. I assume the note is related?"
While lightly smirking, the murderer relaxes, "That's right, he was in the middle of writing it when I caught him."
The smirking person looks behind himself and points, "That's actually the cause of this mess."
"In fact, let me clean it up, while you check out the note.", a sly glance targets the calm man.
Noticing that he has been quiet for too long, the targeted man hesitates, "Yeah, you're right, let's see what it says."
Concern slightly fades away from him, but something doesn't feel quite right, yet. The Captain seems too relaxed. Knowing that it might be a trap, the Squad Leader keeps an eye on his threat while he slowly reaches for the paper. It appears to be quite ruined, much of it is unreadable, though the general message is clear.
###orary Bishop #######,
I report my discovery on the wherea##################################ery single member. I'll deliver all of this##################################### of interception, please respond to me when you are ready to####################
This bastard simply wants a scapegoat. Just an excuse to label the kid as a traitor and execute him on the spot. And the current executor is looking down at the betrayed one with a smirk while comfortably sitting on some stacked boxes.
"So, do you like it?", playfully from his flat throne asks the Captain.
"What?", feigning ignorance just to gain a bit more time, the Squad Leader replies.
"Oh, cmon', you know I know that you know I know and so on and so forth. Let's quit this bullshit!", playful dismissiveness emanates from the bloodied fiend.
Like a cornered beast, the man steps back and places his hand on the sheathed sword. This action was less than appreciated by the cold eyes from above. Not wanting to escalate this further, the nervous one obediently nods and removes the hand from the weapon.
Receiving the message, the Captain curiously questions, "One thing I don't know, though, is how did you figure it out? And when for the matter?"
Frozen in place, a structured response forces out of the pressured person, "Your handwriting. Right after I arrived to clean the room."
Widening his eyes for a moment the Captain looks at the squad leader and immediately shifts into giving outa hearty laughter, "Ah, fuck, the handwriting, right! I should have realised!"
After allowing silence to seep in for a few seconds, the nervous squad leader asked, "What will you do now?"
Lightly squinting, the Captain displays a smirk that could swallow someone up, "Funny that you would mention it, I was going to give you an offer."
Not feeling any major resistance, he continues, "Why don't you join Scythe? This time for real."
Stunned by this statement, the calm man loses his composure and twists his expression, "What are you talking about?"
Enjoying the situation, the Captain chuckles, "What you've seen up till now is just a tiny part of Scythe - a very tiny part."
Doubting every single one of his words, the squad leader replies, "How can I trust that you won't kill me?"
Immediately, a cold pair of eyes drops down on the one who questions, "**Femir**. It's either this or death."
Death stares right at him. What should he do? Agree? Flee? Is his safety ensured if he joins? Can he run away in time? In the end, there is no real choice. Even if he was telling him the truth, he wouldn't believe it. Throwing away his title of Squad Leader, he calmly places his hand on the hilt of his sword and menacingly stares at his enemy.
"Yeah...", the traitor jumps from his seat and furiously lunges at Femir with his sword, "I didn't think so!"
Predicting the blade's path, Femir quickly deflects it with his sword and aims for the head. Almost mockingly, the bandit Captain barely avoids being hit anywhere vital. Furious by his face being wounded, the man quickly lowers his body and aims for his opponent's legs. Noticing at the last moment, Femir uses the hilt of his sword to smash the Captain's head.
Both sides successfully deliver their attacks. One was stunned on the ground, and the other was barely standing with a leg injury. Knowing full well that he got very lucky, Femir takes this opportunity to dash out of door.
Moving as fast as he can, the wounded man hurries down the hallway, quickly nearing the exit. Before it, there is a hallway intersection, unfortunately, from which emerges a former ally. Without giving an explanation, Femir shoves his obstacle to the side and continues onwards.
Startled and confused by the sudden attack, the bandit questions, "Squad Leader?"
He would have much preferred to have left unnoticed. This will leave a bad taste in his mouth for a while. Almost at the exit, he prepares himself to smash through it. He knows there is no time to waste. Every bit of it from here on will need to be used efficiently. No regrets. Everything here is the past. Everyone here is the enemy. Survival is the priority.
Thunderous voice blasts everyone's eardrums as the Captain stands up, "TRAITOR!"