Bloody Death is Dead

Lexi hated Allen. She didn’t care about how many push ups he could do, or how good he was at sports, nor did she care about Allen’s relationship with his boyfriend, Kuro. 

“Allen, for the last time, I don’t give care about you and Kuro,” Lexi snarled, a sneer curling on her lips. Feeling the slight pain of chapped lips, Lexi wished for the hundredth time that she had some lip balm. Years after the world went to Hell, and she still could not find any lip balm. 

She brushed filthy blond strands from her eyes, ignoring Allen’s affronted squawk. She checked her gear over one last time, running a critical eye over her weapons. Pulling out her Glock, Lexi glanced at it and nodded before holstering it in its holster, strapped to her belt. She then ran a hand along the hilt of her machete. Lexi then bent down and grabbed her shotgun from where she had set it against a pile of bricks. Armed to the teeth, Lexi straightened up and leaned her weapon against her shoulder, inhaling the cold morning air. The beats of her heart steadied as she exhaled. Lexi turned towards Allen, feeling her eyebrows furrowing with disgust as she physically fought down the urge to march over and smack him. Allen was sitting on a rock, jean clad legs bouncing up and down with anticipation. His tousled scarlet hair clashed with his tanned skin, beneath which rippling muscles lurked. Allen’s ears were littered with piercings. When he caught her glare, Allen’s ruby eyes lit up with mischief, and a sharp toothed grin slit his face. 

“Like what you see?” Allen joked, raising his right arm and flexing. Lexi felt her eye twitch, slowly raising her shotgun and pointing it at the rock Allen was sitting at. 

“Allen,” Lexi started, in a calm and reasonable voice, “Get your butt off that rock, or so help me I am going to shoot you and leave you here.” Allen grinned even wider now, as if they were friends just joking, and stood off his impromptu seat, brushing his white tank top free of imaginary dust. 

“As you wish, boss.” He smirked at Lexi as she recoiled from him, the title feeling like poison coming from Allen. She watched as Allen adjusted the bandoliers that criss -crossed his chest, each bandolier holding enough bullets to down a bear. Slung on Allen’s belt were a pair of revolvers, faintly glowing sigils decorating the barrels and the hilts. Back before the world went to shit, the look would have every police officer with sense dragging Allen off to jail, but in this post-apocalyptic economy, where guns were considered family heirlooms and ready made ammo was worth literally dying for, the nutcase was either a dead man walking, or a one man army. Much to Lexi’s private dismay, she had no choice but to bet on Allen being the latter. She tilted her head back as Allen walked up to her, standing a head taller than her at six feet two inches. Lexi fought shivers as crazed red eyes stared down into her soul. She squared her shoulders and turned on her heels, walking towards their destination. 

“Let’s go.” Behind her, Lexi heard Allen chuckle, the innocent sound serving as an omen of doom to her ears. They left the ruined bakery they were hiding in behind, walking along the destroyed street that led to what used to be downtown. Taking her left hand, Lexi brought it up to where a pentacle rested against her collarbone. She touched the pendent with reverence, reciting what had by now become a tradition for her. Lexi softly prayed, allowing feelings of calm and serenity to stamp out trepidation. She trusted in the Goddess and the God to guide her through this; she had survived this long, so there must be a plan. For added comfort, Lexi had offered up some of her rations as part of her devotions to the God and Goddess before embarking on this trip; the die was cast, at this point whatever happens, happens. Although, a part of her mind uttered, would it be such a bad thing if Allen ‘tragically’ lost his life here?   Lexi side eyed Allen, who had silently caught up to her stride and was now lazily waltzing along beside her. His lips were stretched into a great leer, with a pierced tongue poking out. The blonde woman wrinkled her nose as she recalled Allen’s earlier monologue about him and his enabler/lover, Kuro, a dead eyed boy whose claim to fame in this dystopian world was an utter lack of empathy and a wicked skill with his authentic Katana made and shipped from Japan. When it came to his relationship with the swordsman, Allen described practically everything that happened between him and his boyfriend. And she meant Every. Little. Detail. Lexi was well aware of and appreciative of the beauty of the human form, but Allen went beyond that. When he wasn’t bragging about his sex life, he was thinking about it, and anyone who spent time around him could tell by that leering grin. Lexi had to force herself to ignore the sheer revulsion she felt. Frankly, if not for the prey she was hunting, she would gladly have left Allen behind. As far as Lexi was concerned, the only positive thing about that bastard was that Allen was a pro with guns. Fortunately or unfortunately, they were going to need that skill. 

“Yo Lexi,” she jerked her head towards Allen, woolgathering cut short. She followed Allen’s pointer finger to find the hiding place of their quarry. Nestled along the shore of Lake Erie was a simple hut, built from materials scavenged from the ruins of Toledo. Lexi crouched down behind a tree, her guns digging into her legs. Beside her, she saw Allen following suit. Lexi caught his eye and gestured with her head towards their quarry. With a lazy grin and an eyeroll Allen took a quick peek from behind the tree he was hiding behind. He brought his head back and smirked at her. 

“No guards,” Allen softly noted, an undercurrent of vindictive glee in his voice. Lexi unconsciously felt an eyebrow climbing up her forehead. 

“No guards?” Lexi had to question. Aliens not posting guards outside their dwellings? Stranger things have happened, granted, but it was still a sign they were slipping after years of living on Earth. . 

“Let’s go.” Slowly, she and Allen advanced towards the entrance, keeping low to the ground as they crept closer. Reaching the door, the two of them stood up to their full heights, the blond and the redhead exchanging glances with each other before moving to stand next to the entrance. Lexi raised her shotgun and nodded at Allen. 

“Do it.” He pulled out his pistols and gave a savage grin. 

“With pleasure.” 

CRASH! 

With a great shoulder tackle Allen burst through the doors, the hinges squealing and wood cracking. Following on his heels, Lexi leaped through the broken entrance and took a second to note the interior. Looking around, Lexi felt an eyebrow climb up against her will. In the center of the hut a hearth had been created, a smoldering fire burning away merrily. A pot of what smelled like stew was boiling over it. On the left side of the room a mound of blankets and animal skins lay piled against the wall, set next to a stool and a writing desk covered with papers, parchment, and various writing implements. On the right side, what looked like a sewing station was placed next to a pile of firewood, a cooler, and a collection of carved bones arrayed in a circle on the floor. A hole in the roof was placed right above the hearth fire, allowing the fumes to rise up and out. A scoff caused Lexi to turn her head.

“Lol, are you sure this is the right place? “Cause this don’t look like an alien general lives here.” Allen remarked, holstering his pistols. He squinted in the windowless dwelling. 

A spite filled insult rested on Lexi’s tongue, however with great force of will she restrained her repartee, if only because she had bigger fish to fry. For example, ‘Where was that damned devil? That crazy old cook promised I would catch him here!’ If that senile old man had her trek all the way to Toledo from Kalamazoo, she was going to…..!

“So, you have arrived. I was beginning to wonder when you would come.” Lexi’s blood turned to ice. Fast as the wind, she whipped around, bringing her shotgun up. Her eyes narrowed as a wrath rose up in her heart, furious and bitter. 

“You,” she hissed, memories of pain and fear dancing in her mind's eye. Beside her, Allen had turned around while drawing his weapons in a single fluid motion, lips pulled back in a predatory smirk, displaying unnaturally sharp canines. 

A raspy cough reclaimed Lexi’s attention. Standing in the doorway was the monster of her dreams, the horror of her childhood, the demon who had killed her father. Except………it couldn’t be. Lexi felt her bottom jaw drop as Allen swore. The alien general who has spearheaded the assault that sacked Washington, D. C. had stood at over six feet tall, clad in the infamous bone white skeletal looking armor that had struck fear in all Americans. Beneath a skull like helmet a cruel beak had poked out, while venomous yellow eyes had glared down at the broken bodies of those poor servicemen and women who had been horrifically butchered by the serrated duel swords clutched in ebony, feathered claws while similarly armored alien invaders pillaged and burned the capital of the United States. The alien who stood before her was not that.

The alien who stood in front of her gun was hunched over down low to the ground, an oaken walking stick clutched in a gnarled, white feathered grip. Above a yellowed and aged beak was a pair of weary, murky green eyes that somehow still radiated intelligence. Atop a head of black feathers was a stark crown of white. Completing the look was the layers of blankets the avian alien was swaddled in. Unperturbed by the firearms pointed at him, he clicked his beak impatiently. 

“I see you have made yourselves at home, now let me in, I have stew boiling,” he shuffled through, the sheer stupidity of the moment striking Lexi dumb. Wordless she stepped aside, the alien passing by to attend to the contents of the pot beside the fire. Both eyebrows climbed up high as she gaped at the sight of the (clearly elderly) alien bending down to lift the lid of the pot, taking out a spoon to stir the contents within. Allen sidled up to her apprehensively. 

“Are you sure this is the right guy?” the question snapped Lexi out of her stupor. With a contemptuous swing she doled out a dope smack to the back of Allen’s head, twisting her head to shoot him a glare. 

“Why do you care? You never had a problem killing random people before.” Surprise flitted through the blonde girl as she witnessed the red head bite his lip. 

“Yeah, but like, none of them were, well,” he waved a hand, subtly flicking the safety of his pistol as he did so, “None of them were old people.” He pointed his revolver at the alien who was adding some twigs to the fire. Lexi shouldered her shotgun and flicked her hair back. Meeting Allen’s eyes, Lexi let him know exactly how she felt about that statement. 

“Bullshit.” Allen jerked back, a look of hurt on his face. As soon as it came, it was gone. 

“It’s true!” He holstered his guns. “After a certain age, hurting and killing people just feels wrong.” Lexi fought the urge to face palm at the cringe sentence. She inhaled and exhaled as she battled the stupidity induced migraine she knew was building. With a blink, Lexi pointed a finger at Allen. 

“I am not dealing with this. You, shut up. You,” she jerked her finger to point at the alien’s back, “Start talking. Who are you, and where is Bloody Death!?!?!” The avian life form froze before emitting a wheezing sound. As his form began to shake, Lexi realized the alien was laughing. With shaky movements, he stood up and dragged the stool over to the fire, bringing out wooden bowls as he did so. He glanced at Lexi and shook his head in mirth. 

“Ha, Bloody Death,” he snorted. “So that’s what you humans called me.” He shrugged. “I suppose it’s fitting, since I did have a habit of carving through your armies.” Rage coursing through her, Lexi brought her shotgun down and placed her finger on the trigger. Out of the corner of her eye, Lexi saw Allen pull out one of his revolvers before turning her attention to Bloody Death. Unconsciously she tilted her head to the side as she saw the alien general use the stirring spoon to fill each of the wooden bowls with some stew. He glanced up and gestured to the ground beside the fire. 

“Sit down and eat.” Lexi felt her lips curl back into a snarl. 

“Why shouldn’t I just shoot you now?” Lexi demanded. Movement to her side caught her eye. 

“Allen!” 

“What? We ran out of rations yesterday, I’m hungry!” The redheaded menace had sat himself cross legged, hands out to accept food. Lexi rolled her eyes. 

“With how much you eat, I am surprised that you aren’t fat.” Allen winked. 

“It’s ‘cause I work out~” Lexi turned to Bloody Death. 

“How do we know you won’t try to poison us?” she asked. Bloody Death puffed up at the question. 

“On my honor as Quillon Vasta, Third Warlord of the 9th Systems Fleet of the Skalatori Royal Navy, I give you my word, I will not poison you or make any attempt.” All humor was absent from his voice, now as hard as steel and just as sharp. Indecision warred within Lexi’s being. Part of her wanted to just blow the alien warlord’s brains out and get it over with, but another smaller part of her was just tired. Tired of having to fight for her life alongside people she hated, tired of having to eke out an existence in a post apocalyptic wasteland, tired of being bereft of her family and friends. Letting out a low sigh, Lexi sank to her knees and sat down, placing her weapon to the side. With a nod she accepted the bowl of food from Bloody Death, along with the provided spoon. The three of them ate in silence for a few minutes, each of them seeming like a lifetime to Lexi. At last, the silence was broken by a loud burp from Allen. Lexi side eyed him, a familiar distaste crawling up her spine. On his stool Bloody Death let out a laugh. 

“After fifteen years on this ball of dirt, I finally managed to master human cuisine.” His head sank down to his chest. “A pity it only happens after so much death and destruction, in the last years of my life.” He set his bowl aside and fixed Lexi with a sad look. 

“I am old, girl, by your standards and mine.” he informed her. “Getting shot in the chest point blank with one of those is not good for you,” he noted wryly, pointing an appendage towards Lexi’s shotgun. He leaned closer to Lexi. 

“You have your father’s bearing, girl.” Heat bloomed across Lexi’s face as rage and grief boiled to the surface. As she glared at him, the aged alien patted a spot on his chest. “Your father snuck up on me and fired his weapon point blank into me. My armor saved my life, and I still needed medical treatment. Truly, of all humans your father came closer to killing me.” He stood up and meandered over to his nest. As he sank into it, he turned over and faced Lexi once more. 

“Never have I regretted anything more than slaying your father in battle.” He closed his eyes. “No apology I offer will make it right.” He raised an arm and pointed at his writing desk. “All I have experienced since coming to this world I have written down, if you wish to take it.” His breathing turned shallow. “I knew you would come for me the moment I slew your sire. I’ve been on borrowed time ever since, consumed by regret for the choices that led me to this day.” Remorse filled his avian voice. “Too late did I realize the value of all sentient life, and the gods will call me to account soon, for my life nearing its end.” Sinking into his nest, Bloody Death blearily gazed at her. “Though it will never return him to life, I am sorry for all the harm I have done to you and all of your kind.” He closed his eyes, head falling forward. “May you find peace in this hour of my death.” With that, he fell silent, and with a start Lexi realized he had stopped breathing. Aside from the popping of the flames, all was silent. 

“That was anticlimactic,” Allen said. Lexi ignored him, staring at the body 's resting place. She wanted to hate Bloody Death. She wanted to avenge everyone who had been killed by that monster, and her father most of all. But looking at what this figure had become, she felt…..empty. Cold, even. She had come expecting a fight. She received remorse, regret, and repentance. There was only one thing to do. 

“I will grab those papers and then we burn this place down.”

“Can we bring the food?” 

“Fine.”

For so long she had had hatred in her heart. Now, it has died, along with the one called Bloody Death.