Martial Law (10)

Nathaniel immediately engaged his glasses to check the stats of his opponents. All the soldiers were in the thirties for Power. Most of which from Essence, physical human power rather than magical abilities. [They are soldiers after all], thought Nathaniel, [not battle hardened but still extremely formidable - especially since they outnumber me]. The commander was different. Very different. As were his stats;

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[Enhanced Appraisal]

Name: Unknown

Title/s: None, 

Essence: 30 (15 x 2)

Favour: 6

Reserve: 5

Power Level: 41

[End Appraisal]

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"Please, take a seat" encouraged the commander with a sick smile, smoke from a cigarette in his mouth billowing upwards into the cold air.

Nathaniel complied, taking a seat in a steel folding chair. Sitting opposite the commander, the former FBI agent glanced left and right. Three of the riflemen had his skull at the centre of their crosshairs, the fourth remained scoped in on Diana. The three shotgunners had not moved - still focused and aiming at Michael.

"I am uncertain about the exact details of your ability," began the commander, "but what I do know is you can somehow make my men mentally unable to fire their guns with the limit of you can only affect one person at a time."

"Just let Michael go," puffed Nataniel between deep and heavy breaths, "and we'll be on our way."

"I'm afraid that is simply not possible," replied the commander, "your ability is just too useful. There is no way I will just let you leave especially when I already have a hostage to control you and therefore your powers already. You've even brought a second hostage too, one you care much more about and is even easier for me to manage. Throw me your gun and you have my word - no harm will come to you or your frankly useless friends."

The commander paused for a moment, taking a hit of his cigarette before grinning wide. "Provided you do not disobey me of course." 

Nathaniel was seconds from replying when he was abruptly cut off and silenced.

"I am not useless." said Diana, burning blue eyes blazing with defiance.

The commander's grin grew even wider, baring all his grey teeth.

"I suppose you could be useful as a plaything for my soldiers, you would not even feel anything." admitted the commander. A few of the soldiers laughed and jeered, also grinning at the remark.

Diana suddenly whipped out a handgun that was hidden in her hoodie, levelling it with the commander's head.

"HOW ABOUT I BLOW YOUR FUCKING BRAINS OUT INSTEAD?" roared Diana, knuckles white and face red.

A soldier shoved his rifle directly into Diana's forehead, the barrel pressing her skin just above her right eyebrow.

Nathaniel widened his eyes at Diana, his stare silently saying "what the hell are you doing?"

Diana only winked in reply.

Then she squeezed the trigger of her handgun.

Almost instantly a bullet thundered out of the weapon, driving itself through the commander's forehead. Blood erupted out of the resulting wound as the lifeless man fell backwards and off the chair into an awkward heap. With lightning fast reactions, the soldiers all pulled the triggers of their various firearms - shotguns at Michael, rifles at Nathaniel and Diana. However none of the guns fired. Several of the soldiers tried to pull the triggers again, one of the shotgunners fiddled with his firearm. Yet none of them could use their weapons.

Seizing the opportunity, Nathaniel raced out of his chair and drove his fist squarely into the jaw of the soldier closest to Diana. Eyelids fluttering, the soldier stumbled back only for Nathaniel to shoot him in the face. Realising their weapons were useless, the soldiers all turned to rush Nathaniel. The former FBI agent spun, smashing the grip of his handgun into the temple of a nearby soldier.

The soldier only grunted in response and stepped back while raising his fists into a boxing stance. Nathaniel swiftly re-aimed and squeezed the trigger of his gun twice. The firearm clicked but did not fire. Empty but not useless, Nathaniel threw the handgun at the boxing soldier's face. Instinctively the man raised his hands to protect his face, leaving himself vulnerable. Nathaniel wasted no time. He immediately unleashed a powerful kick that collided between the soldier's hips.

Meanwhile Diana rolled forward in her wheelchair, scooping up the commander's revolver and firing it three times at the shotgunners near Michael. The first shot missed, flying past the soldiers harmlessly. Her next two shots did not miss. One of the bullets tore through one of the soldier's eyes and the other entered a soldier's neck before promptly exiting. Both of the two men collapsed lifelessly, blood staining the ground.

Nathaniel finished off the last rifleman with a well placed slash of the throat, blood gushing out and covering the former FBI agent with the sticky red liquid. He hated the feeling of being covered in blood. It was a familiar feeling. Unwelcome but familiar. The last surviving soldier dropped his shotgun and turned before sprinting away. Diana raised her revolver, aiming for the back of the man's exposed head. Mere milliseconds before she could squeeze the trigger, Nathaniel put his hand on the gun's barrel and forced it down.

"Why did you do that?" demanded Diana, half-shoving Nathaniel's hand off the revolver.

Nathaniel let his hands fall back to his sides.

"When someone is fleeing, they've effectively surrendered." explained Nathaniel, "even if he gets reinforcements, we should not kill someone who won't fight us."

"B-but they're fucking… fucking evil!" exclaimed Diana, "they're monsters."

"Is Michael a monster?" asked Nathaniel, using the sleeve of his coat to wipe the blood from his face.

"What?" replied Diana, her voice lowering and eyes softening.

"Remember he tried to kill us when we first met him but he ended up saving my life. It may be the end of the world, but that does not give us the right to be inhumane. Yes, it is a grey area and we will inevitably make mistakes. But we should still do our best to do the right thing, even if it makes surviving harder. Otherwise how are we any different from them? Utilising and abusing others for their own sake, with no regard for the wellbeing or humanity of others."

Nathaniel paused, cutting through Michael's restraints before continuing.

"You can kill all the monsters you want, but not at the cost of becoming one." finished Nathaniel.

Diana rolled her wheelchair over to Nathaniel and hugged him.

"Sorry, I don't know what came over me. They were just… just… I don't know. Evil. Monsters. I just wanted them fucking dead." whispered Diana.

"It's okay, you were doing what you thought was right. I could've done the exact same thing. Let's be more careful in future and keep each other in check, okay?" reassured and asked Nathaniel.

"Deal," agreed Diana with a half-smile.

"Thanks for saving me but I'm really confused," spoke up Michael, speaking slowly, "why did none of their guns work? There is no way they all failed simultaneously or jammed. I do not understand either."

Diana smirked before explaining, "So my ability, Master Key, lets me control any lock or locking mechanism. Guns have safety locks, so I just turned on all the safeties so they could not use their guns. Kinda simple really."

Nathaniel doubled blinked in surprise. This application of Master Key was both brilliant and positively powerful against other armed humans.

"That is brilliant, Diana." praised Nathaniel, "I genuinely didn't think of that. You're definitely more powerful than me."

Diana's half smile grew into a full blown grin.

It was only now Nathaniel noticed the small faintly glowing box that had fallen out of the commander's pocket. The box was a deep navy blue, with darker blue veins that swirled like marble. He reached down to touch the box.

Time slowed to a crawl as Nathaniel picked up the box. He flipped it over to see a white skull emblem on the other side.

"Good Morning, Agent Torres" creaked a voice from across the room.

Nathaniel turned to look at the speaker. It was a skeleton with burning coals for eyes. A cigarette jutted out from in between its bleached white teeth. It wore a military trench coat and an officer's cap bearing the U.S. Army Emblem. The uniform was covered in mud and ruined by a dozen bullet holes.

"Hello…" greeted Nathaniel tentatively, "is this box another relic?"

"Correct," began the skeleton, "I will keep this explanation brief as I have other matters to attend to. That box is a relic I created called the Dead Man's Cigarettes. Every day, at dawn, a cigarette with a blue tip and a black filter will appear in the box. The box will hold up to twenty such cigarettes and will only replenish a cigarette if less than twenty cigarettes exist. While smoking a cigarette from this package, your physical abilities double. You can choose to stack multiple cigarettes if you wish, however you will only be granted one additional cigarette daily regardless how many you use. The cigarette's effect lasts for the duration you can smoke it for, which is about six minutes. You may ask one question before I leave."

Nathaniel's mind raced to determine the best question to ask before finally deciding.

"Can I please know your name?" inquired Nathaniel.

"My name is Neit," replied the skeleton as time began returning to its normal flow, "thank you kindly for asking."