Chapter 134

Here we go! We get to see Striker side of the story on what has been happening.

Will be long.

Warning: OOC, random craziness, Error past dark abuse, many other troubles if mention, cursing, killing, dark themes, racism mention, stuff children/teen shouldn't do, profanity, self-harm, suicidal moments, cheating, sexual moments mentioned, violence, smoking, drugs, alcohol, guns mention, animal death, cringe, bullying, yandere, musical/singing moments and bad flirts.

Error/Moxxie speaking/speaking/singing

Voices/Text/Flashback/Singing

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A low groan left their mouth. Eye lids began to open up. Vision began to focus back. Then they went wide as they moved up fast.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

That troll.

"I did warn you before to not move? Your body still being healed."

Striker looks across to see Medea behind the bars. A smile was still on their faces. Eyes closed again.

That fiery orange.

"Before you asked. We have moved you somewhere else. Safety along with part of the jail sentence. Until we move forward to the next step. Still plenty of room by the way- "

"Did you leave the message?"

Medea stopped but nodded. "I did...They said sorry."

Striker was silent as his head went down. "Talking with that blue blood did nothing."

"To be fair I wouldn't think they would be in the right mindset."

A low hissed. Sure, not in the right mindset. Or just want to make sure they don't get any kind of chance. "How long was I out when you move me?"

"Two days. Now no more question time. Just rest, take the meds and food on the way. I say in a few days should be able to do some physical work again."

"Not going to come in here and shove it down my throat."

The shortest of the pair tilt their head. "Don't push it, Striker. I only do that if it's a last option. If you don't take it. Well, that's on you."

"Oh? How so thoughtful." Striker snarled but still keeping his eyes on him wearily. Guarded up. "Did you find them?"

"We did. Got to say you're quite clever how you hid them. Being looked over." Tap the metal bar. "Very clever to have a recorder like that. A lot of money to get one of those. Unless stolen? Trade?"

"I got my intel. You got yours." Striker is not willing to trade everything of his line of business. "Still, trying to put my head around you know Savage Division."

Yes, that the special forces, the personal guards of Wrath are called.

"Fair enough. By the way some interesting imps came by when we left. It was a bit of trouble as the guards all most shot them on site."

Just take a look, not sure where this is going.

"A mariachi bands?"

"Keep those fuckers away from me." Striker snarled. Did they seriously follow after them? Little damn stubborn bastereds. Twitch as Medea giggles.

"I have to say when I find them. Not mind declaring to my face that they followed us to get you out. Release you. My, my they are such a funny, musical bunch. Really don't want to hurt them."

The hybrid snarled and looked away.

"Mention how you saved them?"

Silent.

"Oh? Quite game now?"

"Just tell them to get out or fall in a volcano." Take the medicine by their side. Swallow the pill down along with gulp down the canister of water. "I warn them to many times following me won't be good."

"True. Don't worry I'll take care of it."

Striker lays down to stare at the ceiling. Their whole body is still sore, tired and should keep resting. "Have you talked with Critter besides leaving that message?"

"No. Going to be frank with you Striker like before. Our interactions are not going to be a lot. You don't want him involved with this case. Neither do I. So, small calls besides few I'll be decent enough to lend."

Said nothing after that. Just staring at the ceiling. Mind wandering.

"Will talk later. Yell for the guard if you need something."

"Where you going?"

"Going to be very busy. Along with handle a few other affairs."

Watch them go to the door. "What are you for real?"

They stop at the door just for a few seconds. Then knock twice. "I'm just a medic who you are very fortunate to be on your side. So, don't be a pain in the ass while you're here. That includes the guards."

The door then opens up and left Striker alone.

"Sure, Medic." Striker closed his eyes and rested.

Rest.

Rest.

Rest.

Rest!

That is all Striker has been doing as he was stuck in this cell. It just rest. Take mediation. Eat. Bathroom. Let his mind wander. His wounds get checked by Medea while two guards always close by. Did try to take a scalpel without him looking.

Try.

Got a flick on the forehead by Medea. While motioning the guards to put their guns up.

When Striker finally got the thumbs up to move around. That's what he did. Move around his cell. Do what he can to stay physically active along with released frustration out. He needed to punch something so badly. Which was usually the bed.

He didn't replace the bed so he had to sleep on that.

Like it matters. Striker hated this cell. He should be considered lucky. But deep down he still doesn't believe Medea. Doesn't believe they are going to be given the chance. Visit after visit to talk with them like it was so casual. Then he would tell him stories. Stories from the past.

That just triggered something in Striker. Just remember those good times. Or hear little stories about his mother and the stuff she would do with Maria. Or Moxxie. Anything.

He would just yell at the Doctor to leave him alone. Curse them out. Even if they knew they were pushing it. How could that happen again during the question interview. They just couldn't care. All this is just a mirage of a cover up. He would be thrown to Stolas feet. Just kill by them. To not get on the Goetia bad side. How Wrath or whoever wouldn't care. That it all bullshit. If they do care why keep someone like Stolas around with a position here? Why let those fuckers get away so much down here?

You should know one of those answers by now.

Medea never left. Didn't stop him would he had those moments. Just sat, listen and stare at him.

Then Striker mind would be silent for a while. Just either would sleep. Asked him to leave. Or one time he asked for some whiskey and was allowed it.

He wants to get out badly.

Striker laying down in the bed as he stared at the photo. The one Moxxie gave them. A little smile as his thumb traces it. How young they were. How he lost his own picture.

"Oh, Striker today the day!"

"You stab yourself with an infected nail." Striker grumbled as he stayed on the bed curled up. Not moving at all.

"No, silly and besides it would be needles."

"I get a phone call?"

"Decline on that too. Got keep you on the down low. Kind of told Stolas you die- "

"WHAT!"

"Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about it? What if he brags this crap to his fuck toy- "

"I really don't think their together."

"Or too Moxxie!"

"I talk with Moxxie. I just told them to play along if Stolas does indeed say something. Besides," Smile and tilt their head. "We only said Outlaw died."

Striker was deeply stunned. How casually they just this. "So, what I just walk out free in the open and speak. Hey I'm alive!"

"I mean if you did that in Stolas in front of that ex to be. That would just be stupid on your part. Unless there are extra steps in that plan? Besides Stolas should have 'clarified' better when he had that talk when asking for copies."

"Copies?"

"Attempt assassination of course. To use again the ex to be if they give trouble during the divorce. Cheating or not. While still bad. Assassination still a big, big no no." Medea sighs and smiles. "Evidence. Don't you love it?"

"I don't know to despise you or just be stunned." Striker snarled a bit. "That evidence is from me. I should have been given a dea- "

"You have been getting a deal if you paid attention." Still a smile their voice changes slightly, with their eye lids slightly lifted up, "Now we are getting part of the second deal."

Freeze at the sight.

Close back in a snap and smile big. "Which is to come out and be place elsewhere!"

He is beginning to think if old age is getting to him. Or the Doctor insane.

Lean up to look at them confused and suspiciously. "How long have I been in here?"

"Three weeks."

"So, I'm out after three weeks?"

"Yes. Now wait right there while the guards come escort you outside."

This was actually happening. He being let out? Just feels too easy. But. Wait a minute? He said the second part of the deal? Mind going back to that day of the interview. A lot was happening in that 24 hour.

Next, thing he knows the cell door open. Two imps behind and in front of him. Watch them both wearily along with weapons. Soon followed Medea. Mind began to plan. His mind couldn't stop planning since he was told they were 'dead'. Stop at the front of barn doors. One of the guards went up to it to grab a handle and began to pull to the side. All right if he can grab a weapon and make a run for it-

"Your parole officer outside! They are very, very grateful to do this! Don't worry I told him to not kill, mane or murder you! Unless you do it yourself well that's on you. I will keep in touch since you are going to be helping out. So, community service was the word? Yes, it was!"

"Parole Officer!"

"Eh it's the simplest title I can really explain it. Would babysitter be better?"

"Do I look like some damn youn- "Striker words cut off as he stared at the sight? Eyes went wide. Even the two by his side look very startled, or let out a gasp.

The demon in front of Striker was tall. Not as tall as Stolas. But still tall like Striker eyes now going past the abdomen. Not a normal height for a Imp. Clothes were dirty like they have been outside a lot. A dirty leather coat that was long, dirty, and some parts shredded at the end. Look like a poncho like scarf underneath that just wrapped around that neck and parts of the chest. A shirt too. A pair of long, sharp black claws. Dark pants. You can see their feet that look like their leather foot padding. Arch up to see sharp black claw. A cowboy hat on top with a leather strapped. Two pieces of bone wrapped in the strapped. A long tail that looks like it's been in many battles. Scars, burns and even the spade tip look like it was shredded. The coloring Striker couldn't tell but it seemed like a pale red tone. Wild, messy dirty hair that reaches the shoulder. Look like strands of white in the mess. A mask on their face. A skull bone mask that Striker couldn't tell was either a dragon, goat or even a wendigo. Two long horns connected to the mask. Cracks could be shown on the mask but doesn't look like it would crumble at all Along with a mark carved in what look like an X below the eye holes. The eyes staring down at them. Fire red eyes with black slits staring down at them.

"Meet Butcher. Butcher this is Striker. They will be taking over watching you until it over."

"Who the fuck is this demon?" Striker demanded at Medea.

"I just said Butcher. A really, really good hunter, tracker and other jobs." Medea smiled at him. Then back to the other one. Casually walks up to them as their tail taps his arm. Hands them a bag. "Try to be slow for them?"

Response a growl. Take it and place it inside their coat.

"I know but I do thank you." Smile up at them. Glance back at Striker. "Well, I would get ready if I were Striker."

"I'm not going with this piece of- "Striker couldn't finish their sentence fast. Grab by the demon tail. Lifted up in the air. Next, thing he knows Butcher is on all fours and just running. Running like they were a beast itself!

"Bye Striker! Take care! You are in good claws!"

"Fuck you Medea!"

"See you again! You as well Butcher!"

A loud roar was a response they got.

Striker holds on the tail tightly. Part of them want to get out. Yet, the other side clings as well. This guy was fast! How can they even move like this? How? Cough as dust flies in the air. Eventually I was able to pick up the wind. It was quite great to be outside again. He just doesn't like the situation being carried like this. By a 'babysitter'!

A tall hill was soon coming closer and closer.

Why isn't he stopping?

Are they going to stop?

It's just rows of tall rocky hills to climb up.

Butcher crouched and leaped up to the rock walls.

Striker eyes widen when the tail pulls them closer. Sees those claws just dig into the mountain like it was nothing. Glancing down it was the same with their clawed feet. Then he began to climb.

Climb.

Climb.

Climbing this tall hill like it was no problem for them at all. Just pure adrenaline. Like it was a rush. Or possibly just enjoying all this.

Once reached the top, I just ran again. Ran for a very long time till getting into a mountain range of sorts. Rocks began to move closer in and even block parts of the sun. Until reaching a spot. He could see an entrance that looked like it's part of a cave. Sees a pond close by. Red grass all around. Trees here and there in a further distance. The brown leaves falling off. An area with a few logs to show a campfire. Then bones.

Lots of bones.

"Are you a cannibal?"

Drop inside the cave like luggage. Striker hissed loudly. Look up to see their 'companion' seem slightly annoyed. Got a louder hiss from the taller demon. Then turn away from them to move deeper in the cave. Slowly I got up.

Dash to get out.

It failed badly.

By being hit in the ankle by a piece of stick that Butcher thrown at their ankle. Fell down to tumble and roll till he hit a wall.

Striker snarled in anger. For fuck's sake! He is better at this! Hear footsteps. Moves fast. Turn to freeze as they are staring face to face at the mask. Held his grounds. To just stare at them. But another part wants to run. To just coward off.

He will die if he dares to fight them.

Tail curled around themselves to rattle slightly. Turn away to let out a small irritated hiss. Startle yelp being picked up by the back of their neck. They just lifted up like nothing as they went back to the cave. Then drop to the ground in a pile of soft material. Fur? Blink but then remember what Medea had mentioned.

A hunter?

Watch them move to a certain part of the cave. Move rocks around until they start to dig up the dirt. Then pulled out a dagger. Walk over to them and drop it in Striker lap. Striker grabs it. Were they given a weapon?

Butcher soon let out a hissed. Tail smack the ground as they point at the fur. Then outside the cave.

"I don't speak whatever this shit is!"

Striker learns quickly to pick up certain sounds on what they meant. Quickly. Along with the hand gestures over the few weeks. Right now, in the case no damn clue. He was damn grateful when Moxxie was feral since that interaction did help out. Give them an idea or two.

Until Butcher, physically, grabs their head to lift them up. Move back to the cave to point outside. At a certain part of the area.

A bunny?

"What do you want me to do about it? Kill the vermin?"

Got a no-shit look.

"If I don't?"

Learn quickly why that too when they are 'watched' by Butcher.

Butcher killed the rabbit. Skin in. Grab some firewood. Prepare to cook it. But didn't share with Striker. Striker didn't care. So, what!

What indeed?

Butcher barely shared the food they hunted. Striker wouldn't beg. That beneath him. Eventually did picked up they will have to get food on their own. Any times that Butcher didn't 'share' were some berries they found in a bush when they were getting firewood. Striker easily recaptured again when he tried to escape. He swears he is this bastered amusement as they would get cackle.

The hunt did help Striker sometimes. At least take out some frustration in the whole situation. A curse storm when grabbing an armadillo to eat they forgot the damn spike when they curled up in a ball. So, got a deep cut from that.

That night Butcher seems to lend a hand. One showed them how to properly take care of one beast. Two the cut on their wound with certain herbs. The cooking left it to them. At least he didn't have to worry about Butcher taking their food.

The times Striker had tried to escape were either at night, when he thinks Butcher left longer than normal, hunting or the time when they began to move at a different spot. Never was it a fight till Striker actually tried that.

Fail badly.

This demon was no joke. He just attacks. Striker either on the ground, thrown into a tree or tied up in their tail.

It was humiliating.

It hurt.

It felt like there was close calls to should have just died.

It almost felt like back then with that group.

Expect there was a difference.

Butcher would take care of them. Treat the wounds. Treat the cuts. Gave them this looks like why do you keep doing this. It just confused and bothered Striker.

"Why?"

The hunter stops to finish up tying the bandages. The claws seem to never cut them when they're like this. Tilt their head. Let out a grunt with a small nudge. Reach out to grab a skewer with a fish on it. Hands it to them.

"You're damn confused. Almost like Critter." Striker muttered as his eyes looked down at the food. Glance to see Butcher curious. Tail move side to side. A curious growl came from that mask. "What? Want to know my relationship life? I bet that Doc buddy told you stuff. How did I get to this mess?"

Got a head shake yes along with no.

"Well maybe I'll be nice to say something. If you speak a word." Striker smirk and let out a hissed when they smack his back roughly.

Asshole.

An asshole who has been teaching them.

Butcher jumps out of the way to climb up a tree. Lunge to another one when Striker tries to grab their tail.

"Are you shitting me?" Striker snarled and pants. Body is going to hate them tomorrow if they dare try to jump that far out.

Butcher just laying down on the branch lazily. Like they know they won.

That irritated Striker. Sure, he has to admit lately his endurance and cardio seem to have gotten better. Even just in the survival rage. A few tricks could have been helpful when they were doing their jobs.

Except patience left the doors right now. When they lunge out to the tree. Their hand barely caught the branch. Eyes widen as the longer tail wrap up to grab them.

That wouldn't have been a pleasant fall.

"You're being smug under that mask." Striker twitches hearing a cackle like snicker from the hunter.

Fall sounds far more pleasant at the moment.

Another night Striker was surprised to see them take their hat off. The two stumps of their horns could be seen. Parts of the white, and the black that covered by hair, and flesh. "How long ago did that happen?"

No, answer.

The pair hunted together and ran into a mountain hellcat. These cats mixed like reptiles weren't ones to mess with at all. Striker ran into it first. He tried his damn best against the beast. Able to stab it in the eye. Even with what they just had on hand. Their arm got slashed badly and can feel the heat. Butcher tackles the creature down. Striker can't fully recall all that happened until the last thing he saw was Butcher tore their jaws off. After that when they woke up a bit. Clean up, bandage and cover in fur. Butcher curled up around. He blames the medicine. The heat. Probably the wound was messing with his mind.

He would have like a father figure like this.

Down for three days. Force to stay down while Butcher took care of him. Even when being a stubborn asshole. Able to get back to work. Butcher was surprised about the boar Striker caught without telling him. Cook it up for the pair. Not bothered by the way Striker cooks the boar.

Then Striker got surprised. They were going into a town. All the bones, fur and a few new meats they had to trade. It was like a different sightseeing Butcher like this. Out in the open a beast of a hunter. An animal. Yet, out here in a town like this able to tried. Just by the smallest lack of verbal interaction, and hand movement.

"So, got a teammate now?"

Butcher grunted. Push some money and certain material into Striker chest.

"Hey!" Striker snarled at hm. Watch as he points his claw in a certain section of the store. Glance at the material recognize some of the stuff. This was to make clothing.

What? Moxxie showed them different ways along with their time just traveling.

Look down at themselves. Their gray jacket got ruin from that attack with the hellcat. One of the pan legs was half torn off. Gloves replace with bandages at some point. Along with just dirty. Their hat and bandana one the few not damaged.

"There is a shower in the back to use." The owner recommended it to him.

"If it's fine with prissy ass." Striker grumbles. Helf back a hiss getting a smack on the arm. "I got it!"

Butcher rolled their eyes as they kept pulling out bone after bone. The tail waves them off.

"Right this way!"

Striker looks at themselves in their new attire along with themselves. Ran their hand through their hair. It grew a bit. He did too in some ways.

But still part of him that still Striker that won't go away.

When Striker came out, he was handed a belt along with a hostel. Next, a familiar holy blade, another dagger and along with pistols. Then a sheet of paper and read it.

We're going to do a job.

"Job? What kind of job?" Striker looks at him. A bit excited but also confused.

BANG!

BANG!

SCREAMS!

Striker winces as they see Butcher tear into the demon body. Then throw the corpse into the wall. Striker pulls a dagger out to throw it at another demon that tries to jump Butcher. It landed in their skull. Drop to the ground.

Eight dead bodies all around.

Kidnappers.

Not just any kind of kidnappers.

Butcher pulls something out of their coat. A flare gun but with two barrels. Pull out two different shells. Then shoot it in the air.

A mix of green and red sparks spread in the air.

"So, that task force Medea with. Are they spread out?" Striker asked them a bit confused why those colors. Watch Butcher nod their head yes while motion to follow to the back of the track. Butcher opens the flap. Then he pulled out a steel drum barrel. A lock on a hook. Slash the lock off it. Then pull it off.

Striker heard a whimper.

Butcher let out calming whistler as they reach down to pull a child out. Then another. Another.

Three impling children.

Five barrels taken out.

Thirteen children. Two teenagers.

Terrified. Scared. Crying wanting to go home.

Finally, a few riders came in along with trucks.

Striker stayed back as they watched them put the last child inside a back truck. They heard a few footsteps till they glanced to see Butcher behind him. Notice another piece of paper out to them. Took it. Read it over.

Those children were going to be sold to be servants to nobles.

Striker stared at the note. Began to crush the paper. "Which ones."

Given a stare.

"Which one!" Striker demanded as he didn't care he was getting some looks from the others. Push the taller one. "Come on you damn hunter! Which one of them! Which cocksucker is it or you not saying anything to protect their as- "

A fist impacted the side of their face.

Striker rolled to the ground. Their eyes widen at the sensation they just felt from the punch. Look up and all most wish he didn't.

The rage flying off Butcher was sicken. Like they were positively sick. Then he spoke. But it sounded off. No, familiar. They had heard this voice before but the vocals were different. Yet, he still couldn't pick up what level of the tone of their voice could be the real one.

"Don't you ever compare us to them."

Sick they would dare say such a thing to them.

Butcher turns around to grab one of the bodies. None of the others said anything but get back to work or drive the kids back. Striker stayed on the ground to watch their figure move away. Looking down to see their hands were shaking.

No, talking at all between the pair for two days.

"You hate them too. Don't you?"

A confirmed huff.

Another group they off to kill. Just a bunch of hired rookies in Striker opinion. Even Butcher seems dissatisfied. Along with the junk they bring into Wrath. It was cheap ass fake drugs. At least try to bring in the good junk.

Striker had a nightmare. That fear is coming back. A nightmare turns into a panic attack when they roll into water. Butcher pulled them out and just let the hybrid bite their arm.

Camp outside. Striker missing his horse. Missing his friend. Stare at the picture every night. Unaware they start to talk about them to Butcher. A longing to have them back. Butcher head down with a look of understanding.

Another day in the mountains and Striker seems to be catching up to Butcher. The hunter seemed pleased even if it was hard to tell.

After that it went back to normal. Normal still be babysitter. Oh, and get question over by the phone by Medea. How can Butcher use a cellphone and get service is beyond them. Along with the battery being saved.

Silence.

Then Striker was handed another note. He reread it again. Again. Again. An unhappy rattle from his tail as he tears the paper. Throw it in the fire. Look at Butcher. The rage in his own eyes but a determined look as well.

"I'm in."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Done!

What do you all think?

Striker along with his 'patrol officer/babysitter' time together.

Butcher is my character and here is a drawing of them. A visual idea.

Any questions?

Until next time.

Bye, bye!