Elesbury, City of the dead, Part 3

Leonard, you're not going any further, thought Jonathan as he ran after the man who not so long ago had been like a brother to him. This has to end.

Leonard had only chosen to run away, separating himself from the crew, because he thought he was inferior to him. Fortunately, not just anyone could see his level and stats. They didn't just appear, for example, floating above his head.

Otherwise, he would have been in trouble.

Leonard believed he was still weaker than him because no one could imagine that his stats had plummeted. That simply wasn't possible.

Same goes for coming back from the dead. His smile was getting wilder by the second. But here I am.

Leonard took a moment to turn his head, checking his progress by looking over his shoulder. He wasn't that close. But still, his old friend was startled. And he picked up the pace.

"Jonathan, be reasonable!"

Reasonable?

Reasonable, after he had treacherously shot him? Reasonable, after he had conspired for months to snatch his crew and kill him? If it were anyone else, he would almost have understood.

But Leonard...! Leonard of all people! His own brother!

Ha, he had been really foolish, thinking of a pirate like him that way. They were all scum.

Elesbury was a big town. The crowd was a nuisance. A nuisance, but not a problem, no matter how much he pushed his way through. No one wanted unnecessary trouble. Not even pirates, thieves or other criminal scum in the crowd. At best, someone would call the city guard.

But he would have enough time to kill Leonard.

Leonard turned suddenly, ducking into an alley. Jonathan followed him and discovered it was a dead end. Bad luck, he thought. Or rather, bad judgment. This will be your last mistake.

Like another shadow in the alley, Jonathan advanced toward the trapped Leonard, his face split in a hideous grin.

Leonard had already seen the wall and had gone inside anyway, or improvised. In either case, he made a leap, climbing up the wall. Taking advantage, first of a window and then a line of clothes hanging out.

"Oh, no! Don't think you're going to get away with this!"

Jonathan was a shadow of his former self.

But any pirate was a good climber. Because no one started out captain, you had to get used to the daily chores on a pirate ship. How many times had he climbed the highest mast? How many times had he hung from the ropes?

He chased that son of a bitch.

He just had to do the same thing as him. Even if it was a little slower, he'd catch him in the end. Jonathan ran to the wall and put one foot on it, propelling himself upward.

Toward the rope where all those clothes hung.

It, of course, swayed with his weight and Jonathan feared for a moment that it would break. Leonard had gotten through without a problem, of course, but that didn't mean a second person wouldn't run into trouble.

He worked on getting to his feet on top of the rope.

Meanwhile, Leonard darted toward a lantern mounted on the corner of the building. He grabbed the edge with difficulty, avoiding a good fall. And speeding up the climb considerably. Now he just had to get on top of the lantern to reach the rooftops.

Jonathan gritted his teeth.

"You...!"

He jumped.

Too soon, too far. There was no way he could reach the lantern.

But, from the beginning, that hadn't been his goal. He wrapped his arms around the enemy's legs. Pulling him down.

"You're so persistent! "Leonard shouted.

And whose fault is it? You killed me, you left nothing but this.

Leonard's boot hit him in the face.

Again and again. Jonathan resisted with all his might, but it wasn't enough. Before he knew it, he found himself in free fall.

Shit.

His head. Above all, he had to protect his head, he interlocked his hands and placed them behind him. It wouldn't make much difference, surely, but it was the only thing he could think to do.

The impact knocked the air out of his lungs.

It left him dizzy, the world melting before his eyes into an indistinct blur of light and shadow. Suddenly, what worried him wasn't dying, but simply passing out.

He could allow neither.

Jonathan bit his tongue until the taste of his own blood filled his mouth. The pain woke him up.

"Don't think you can run away from me!"

He resumed the chase.

Following Leonard, who jumped from rooftop to rooftop, through the streets. If he lost sight of him, even once, the chances of finding him again before he lost him altogether would be minimal in this great city. He couldn't afford even the slightest slip.

Not only did he feel blood in his mouth. It was also on his forehead. He had cut himself.

Eventually, the blood would run down to his left eye. Another annoyance. He pushed his hair back with one hand as he ran. As if that would do anything. Change anything. In the end, inevitably, Leonard ran out of rooftops. He barely managed to stop in time, right at the edge, swinging his arms and torso, trying to regain his balance. Something he also barely managed to do.

The distance between that building and the next roof was simply too great. There was no way he could make the jump without a special skill he didn't possess.

Of course, that didn't mean Leonard had literally run out of rooftops.

It's not as if he had to continually move forward. He could turn around, go in circles. His only goal was to make Jonathan lose sight of him, after all. But Leonard hesitated. And those seconds of hesitation were enough to corner him. This rooftop would be his eternal resting place.

Jonathan unsheathed his sword. He let the tip brush the ground as he advanced toward his enemy.

"At last."

"Jonathan..." Leonard shrunk in on himself. He got the impression that he was about to take a step back, before realizing again that he had no space.

"This is the end of the road. I won't let you get out alive."

"Jonathan, listen to me!"

He lunged forward with his sword.

Leonard managed to evade the first blow, bending backward. He had always been very agile. And slippery.

He grabbed the sword with both hands and thrust it down, aiming for the heart. Leonard dropped to the ground, and the edge of his weapon only sliced off a few strands of hair instead of the neck. He rolled on the ground, got up quickly, as fast as he could. Leonard stepped back as he unsheathed his own weapon. No guns this time, huh? They had exchanged positions, but Jonathan didn't care about being on the edge of the roof. Maybe he should.

"I understand you're angry, but you left me no choice! I did what I had to do. You know that. Deep down, you know that."

"Yes. Going after the Count is a suicide mission. I have nothing to lose, but you guys do. You aren't wrong." It was annoying to admit it, but he had had time to reflect.

If Leonard had put him in a similar situation, he would surely have chosen himself.

"So...!" Leonard said, holding his hands out in front of him.

As if he expected him to shake his hand and all would be forgiven.

As if he didn't realize he had held out a hand and a sword.

"Nothing. Good reasons or not, you killed me. You think I'm going to forgive and forget? "Jonathan took a step forward. "Besides, nothing's changed."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm still here. I'm still after the Count. In other words, I'm still an obstacle in your way. Whether I want to or not, I have to get you out of the way. And, I won't lie, I'm going to enjoy it." Jonathan grinned from ear to ear. His grin was so wide it almost hurt.

He swung his sword again.

Their swords clashed, repelling each other. Jonathan grabbed the sword with both hands and prepared to execute the next blow. To separate his head from the shoulders, to end this already once and for all, even though a very large part of him wanted him to suffer for what he had done.

But he couldn't.

He didn't hesitate at the last moment because he was facing a dear friend. None of that bullshit.

Leonard was simply a little faster.

Jonathan opened his mouth, exhaling, not realizing why. He noticed the taste of blood in his mouth, but it had been there from the beginning. He only realized what had happened when his head dropped.

His enemy's blade had penetrated his right shoulder. Not as deep as possible, but deep enough. He gritted his teeth. Pain was a passing sensation like any other. That wasn't something he had learned when he died, but something he had had to learn quickly in order to not drown living as a pirate.

He couldn't let a passing sensation get in his way.

"Jonathan... Please. Don't make me do this a second time."

"You're the one making me do it."

His teeth chattered, his hand trembled. Fuck. Fuck. Jonathan put his hand on the blade and squeezed, to Leonard's surprise. He squeezed even as the steel sank into his hand hard, drawing blood.

"We can still stop this. I'm not from your crew. We have parted ways decisively. There's no reason for us to..."

"Then why didn't you just do that from the beginning?"

Leonard was trying to trick him. Treating him like an idiot. Who did he think he was? He knew him well enough to see through his actions.

Leonard had no answer for him. He immediately went mute, as was to be expected.

He was in a bad position, true, but he was still alive. He still had a chance to win. Jonathan gritted his teeth. He gathered more and more strength in the clenched fist around the sword, despite the cut, despite the loss of blood, despite the fingers slippery with his own blood.

All the while Leonard tried to drive the sword deeper into him. It wasn't a fatal point, but it could leave him unable to use that arm.

If he succeeded. He wouldn't.

He pulled hard outward, wrenching it from his shoulder. With the momentum, Jonathan lunged forward and Leonard staggered back.

He had to make the most of that momentum, every second of it, or he would die. For the outcome of the battle could be decided in less than a second. As he fell, he drove the sword into one of Leonard's knees.

The latter grunted, spitting blood between his teeth and fell with him, driving the wounded knee into the ground. Jonathan only avoided being knocked to the ground because he used the sword for support. Then he put his other hand on the ground, when he could.

He wrenched the sword away quickly, before Leonard could counterattack.

They exchanged dozens of blows in a short space of time. But he should have known from the beginning that he couldn't win, not after losing his stats cultivated over the years and his Swordsman skills. He should have known better, but he had let himself go, chasing after that son of a bitch, fearing he would get away from him forever.

Suddenly, his sword flew out of his hand.

Spinning in the air. He'd almost lost it altogether, almost had it fall into the street, among the people. Not that there were many. A few onlookers, still watching. The people with their heads on their shoulders had moved out of harm's way.

By instinct, Jonathan jumped back immediately, the first step after losing his gun was obvious. Just put distance between him and his enemy.

He didn't bring his hand to his wounded shoulder. In fact, he barely noticed it.

He just stared at the hand with which he had been holding the sword until a moment ago as if dumbfounded. As if he still couldn't believe it. But it was more than that. Only then had he understood the difference between Leonard and him now, he supposed.

"Jonathan, my friend, my... Brother. "He still thought he had the right to call him that. It should have infuriated him, but he still only looked at his hand. "I'm asking you again. You can stop this. Nothing will ever be like before, I know. But at least it doesn't have to end in blood.

Jonathan clenched his fist. It was shaking with pent up strength.

"It's already over."

"I guess you're right. "A grim resignation permeated his voice. At least he had to admit he was sad, as much as he had backed out only now, when it was all done, with no turning back possible, and when Jonathan had given him reason to think twice.

Leonard pounced on him, who was unarmed, to put an end to this. For the second time. Would it hurt him to have to kill him again? Ha, well he had no plans to die a second time, whether he could come back from it or not.

Unarmed.

But not helpless.

As Leonard got closer, Jonathan backed further and further away. And when the enemy lunged at him, he took the last step. His foot only touched air. The surprise on that idiot's face was a prize in itself.

But the best part was grabbing him by the pants as he fell, pulling him down.

A good fall. This one he couldn't avoid.

"You're crazy!" Leonard shouted. Maybe so, yes, yes, but it was just how he needed to be.

They both fell to the ground.

It was a miracle that they didn't fall on anyone, or anything. In the fall Leonard lost his sword. Now both of them were on equal footing.

As he got to his feet, Jonathan heard the serpent's roar.

That explained why the city guard hadn't descended on him yet. They had bigger concerns. It was almost certain that he would lose the serpent, but he should be able to resurrect it again, as long as they didn't blow it to smithereens.

He shouldn't worry about that thing. Only about himself. He didn't have the luxury of worrying when he wasn't out of danger yet.

Jonathan walked over to Leonard and punched him with everything he had. He didn't stagger back, only his head moved with the blow.

"Now we're on equal footing!"

Jonathan threw another punch.

Leonard dodged it, narrowly, ducking. He turned and ran. Toward the sword, of course. Like I'm going to let you do that. Jonathan lunged at his legs, tackling him.

Leonard fell to the ground again, with him on top.

"Persistent bastard," spat the man he had called brother. It seemed like a long, long time ago. Most of him wanted revenge.

The rest of him, honestly, wished things were the way they used to be.

But, as the enemy had rightly said, there was no going back.

Not even a chance for it to be made right again.

Jonathan kicked the sword, sending it rolling away. Out of reach of both of them. Whether he wanted to or not, he would have to fight him hand-to-hand. Leonard was still stronger than him, now, due to his stats being what they always were.

But at least he had an advantageous position, for now.

And he was going to take full advantage of it.

Jonathan put his hands around his neck. And squeezed.

There was indeed a way to go back. It was a simple one, but one that hadn't crossed his mind until now.

"I can fix this, brother. You just have to close your eyes and stop resisting. You'll wake up from the dream and never betray me again."

Thanks to Wake, they would be together again. Forever.

Leonard's eyes grew wider and wider. His hands were clawing at him, elbowing him in the stomach, but he couldn't get away. Not even move Jonathan. He was strangling his old friend as if it was the only purpose he had in life.

All he could feel was the heat of his life in his hands, the trembling in his neck, the agitated breath on his face.

All he felt was how life was slipping away from the man, no matter how hard he fought.

To make way for the new life Jonathan would give him.

The sword was too far away. And no one would come to help him. The few onlookers had beaten a retreat when they fell to the ground. This was the end. Jonathan was surprised to feel not satisfaction, not the sweet taste of revenge, but sadness. He would give anything for things not to have had to end like this.

End, indeed. They would be together forever, like the brothers they were, from now on.

But this had ended.

New life, new beginning.

"I know it hurts. But it's what you deserve. What I plan to do... is more than you deserve, right now. Maybe through this I can forgive you."

It wouldn't be easy, but he'd be willing to try. And he believed that he would succeed. He thought that...

That nothing.

There was something glinting under his chin. The gleam of a sword's steel, piercing his neck. Jonathan looked at Leonard, confused, but he hadn't slipped from his grip, hadn't retrieved the sword. More importantly, the man was still in front of him. And he could only see the tip of the sword, protruding from his neck.

From behind. I've been attacked from...

He didn't have time to finish that thought either. He fell to his knees as the sword was withdrawn, spitting blood. Jonathan placed a hand over the wound in hopes of slowing the bleeding.

Behind him. Some random guy. He didn't look like a pirate, but he didn't look like one of the city guard either.

He had decided to intervene. A good Samaritan.

Give me a break.

"Oh. I know you," the good Samaritan said, dumbfounded.

Jonathan roared and threw a kick at him, knocking the sword out of his hands. The guy tried to defend his head, but that wasn't his goal from the start. He grabbed his head and then kneed him in the solar plexus, causing him to double over.

The blood. The blood wouldn't stop.

How long could he stand after being stabbed in the neck? Leonard took the opportunity to retrieve the sword, tried to kill him with it. Without hesitation. He hadn't hesitated the first time, nor the second, after all. Jonathan stopped the sword with his bare hands. His clenched teeth chattered.

He didn't think he was going to get a second perfect chance. He couldn't do this. Not alone, not now.

Jonathan accepted that. And he gave the order.

The good Samaritan walked away from them, crawling along the ground on hands and legs, not looking back. In other words, without taking his eye off them.

He should never have intervened in the first place. Kindness had no reward.

There would definitely be no reward if he did more than just stand there, scared now that he couldn't attack by surprise, Jonathan would have to stop ignoring him. Don't go for your gun, if you know what's good for you. Just don't.

He'd lose the struggle. It was time to accept that, too.

Jonathan jumped back, dropping the sword. He was out of Leonard's reach. Not far enough to not suffer any wounds, but the cut on his chest wasn't that big a deal. Superficial.

Both his hands were bleeding. And his neck.

His posture wasn't very steady.

After evading death to get this far, I don't plan to fall so soon. He clenched his fists. As much as it hurt. Not winning. He didn't have to focus on winning, just surviving, for the moment. Evade those attacks. Fortunately, he didn't have to be simply dodging for long. A roar broke through the warm afternoon air.

An inhuman roar.

"What was that?" The good Samaritan had moved away, though not too far. He was against a wall, sword in hand, but he hadn't decided to stand up again.

Soon he would be running.

Leonard stopped abruptly. He had only seen it for a few seconds, but he knew what was coming. Yes. With overwhelming force. The face of a building behind them literally exploded, and the giant snake emerged through the ruins and resulting rain of debris. Surely it hadn't been the first building that thing had broken along the way. Just the last.

In any case, the good Samaritan screamed. And he finally did what he should have done in the first place. Get the hell out of there.

"Fuck." In contrast, Leonard just mumbled that, still out of breath. It seemed as if he had already outgrown his capacity for surprises today and simply couldn't react anymore.

Leonard went after him. Nothing had changed, he couldn't let him get away. Jonathan jumped on top of the snake's back, again. Only this time he had nothing to hold on to. No sword for extra support.

Only his hands. And little strength, because it was slipping away from him more and more by the second.

He was barely conscious, in fact.

The snake wasn't in the best condition either. It was full of cuts and holes, of its own blood, one of its eyes was missing, even. But he could still take advantage of it. He knew Elesbury well. The question was...

Take me... Take me to...

He decided quickly.

He couldn't do this alone. But he didn't have to be alone.

——

The snake led him to where he had sent it, going from rooftop to rooftop, slithering through the streets, ignoring everything else. People in the middle of its path. Those who turned away, fleeing in terror, and those who tried to finish it off. Their destination was the cemetery.

It was funny. He'd died once before, but only now did he visit it.

Her resting place had been the dank darkness of a cave on an abandoned island. All of these had been much luckier.

The serpent stopped. Looking back, Jonathan wasn't sure how he had managed to keep hold of it. He had kept it from doing things like going through buildings, taking the shortest path, the straight line. But still the trip had been crazy. Especially in his condition.

He was getting dizzy. His vision was getting darker and darker, his head lolling like he was struggling to not fall asleep. That bastard had gotten him good. But he couldn't look anywhere for help. First things first, anyway.

Jonathan rolled to the side, letting himself fall off the beast's body.

The snake didn't react, didn't even try to break his fall. Of course. It was a monster with no will of its own. It didn't matter. It was humiliating, lying on the ground of this cemetery, its face getting smeared with dust and wet dirt.

Yes, wet.

At some point, it had started to rain. The rain carried his blood with it. Far, far away.

Disappearing.

Like him, disappearing. No, no, no, no, no!

He crawled on the ground. It didn't matter, pride could go to hell. He needed to do what he had to do. His fingers sank into the earth, dragged it down, moving grass and stones, moving dead and not"so"dead bugs.

Then his arms traced lines in the mud as he pushed himself upward.

He felt the mud sticking to his legs, to his arms. He felt like he was being buried in mud.

Buried.

He should be buried. Because he had died.

He should be, but...

Out of the corner of his eye he saw something shining bright. Red as blood. A strange pattern had appeared on his hand. He had no time to analyze.

He only knew what to do.

He punched the ground.

The rain was still falling, merciless. Jonathan had to hurry. He wasn't even sure if anything on this scale would work, but it should work, and he had to try. The snake had served as a distraction during his fight with Leonard, but now they were both in the same place and they hadn't exactly been subtle.... The guards wouldn't take long to arrive.

"This is it. This is it."

He felt as if he'd dipped his right hand into a pan of boiling water. The red glow became more intense.

But he stopped thinking about such things.

Because he had gotten what he wanted.

The dead began to rise around him.

Elesbury, City of the dead, Part 3: FIN