Bad Moon Rising. (Male Reader Insert)

Chapter 9: Kill The Mimic

Another agonizing week had crawled by, marked by sorrow and regret. Bulat had met his end in a fierce battle. He had emerged victorious, defeating his foe Liver, but it was a Pyrrhic victory. Poison, a treacherous and unseen enemy, had taken root in Bulat's body, sealing his fate.

I sat in my wheelchair, my legs heavily injured and useless. The weight of guilt pressed heavily on my shoulders, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I could've saved Bulat somehow. It was a crushing burden that seemed to grow heavier with each passing day.

In the silent hours of the night, I wheeled myself to the corner of my room, where the imposing statue of Khonshu stood sentinel. The moonlight filtered through the window, casting eerie shadows on the god's face.

Unable to bear the guilt any longer, my anger and frustration erupted like a tempest. I struck out at the statue with all my might, my knuckles colliding with the unyielding stone. Pain shot through my hands, and blood trickled from my wounded fists, but the physical pain was a distant echo compared to the torment that gnawed at my soul.

In the midst of this violent release, a profound sense of loss and helplessness washed over me. The reality of Bulat's death, a death that I felt I could have prevented, weighed down on my heart like an anchor, threatening to drown me in sorrow.

"DAMN IT!" I cried out in a voice laced with anger and despair. "Why? Why did you let this happen?"

But there was no answer, no voice from the god I had served so faithfully.

In my anguish, I fell from my wheelchair, collapsing onto my knees at the foot of the statue. Tears streamed down my face as I clung to the only connection I had to Khonshu, seeking solace in the silence of the night. It was a moment of vulnerability, of raw grief, as I cried out in anguish, grappling with the harsh truth that I had lost a comrade and the guilt of feeling responsible for his death.

"Boo... Booooooo," a haunting voice echoed through the room. My gaze snapped back up to the statue, and I couldn't believe my eyes-the skin of Bushman's face was grotesquely perched on the statue's own visage.

"Boo. Hoo. You knooow... I've seen some sorry ass people in my life." My heart raced as a faceless Bushman emerged from behind the statue, his presence dripping with malevolence.

"But you are the sorriest piece of shit I've ever seen." My blood ran cold as I faced this terrifying apparition.

"Look at yourself."

"No--" I stammered.

"Wallowing."

"You're--"

"Pathetic."

"Bushman!?" I exclaimed, my voice quivering with fear.

"No. Not bad, but no." Panic surged within me as I desperately reached for the revolver in my bedside drawer.

"What, you don't like being reminded of your best work?" the imposter Bushman sneered as I loaded a single bullet into the chamber. "Alright, my bad. I maybe went a little overboard with this. Hang on..." With grotesque nonchalance, he peeled the skin from the statue's face and affixed it onto his own.

"Better?" he asked, his voice now warped by the horrific mask. My response was swift and desperate-I pointed the gun at my head, ready to end it all.

I felt a hand gently rest on my shoulder. "It's me," the voice was no longer that of Bushman's menace but something familiar and reassuring. "It's me, my priest."

Turning, I gazed upon a sight that struck me with awe-it was not Bushman but Khonshu himself, looking down upon me. Slowly, I lowered the gun from my head. "Why?" My voice trembled with a mix of anguish and confusion. "Why did you leave me?"

"I never left you," Khonshu replied, a solitary tear trickling from the eye of his statue. "I could never abandon my last true son."

I bowed my head in reverence.

"Get up now," he commanded.

I struggled to follow his divine command, pain coursing through my battered body. Each attempt to stand felt like agony.

"It hurts," I admitted, struggling with the effort.

"I am the god of vengeance and the moon," Khonshu's voice held both authority and encouragement. "Not the god of whining and self-pity. Get up."

With great effort, I managed to stand, my legs shaky and unsteady, as I faced the divine presence before me.

"There is vengeance to be dealt, (F/N) (L/N)," Khonshu declared, his gaze unyielding. "And you have not lost your taste for such things. Have you?"

"I'm no good for the work, my lord. Not anymore." I muttered, looking down as gritting my teeth in pain as I staggered.

"Are you not?" I felt his hand inches from my forehead. "My son. Have I not always taken care of you. Have I not always raised you up?"

"Yes, you have. But you left me alone for what felt like an eternity, and I doubted you." I said with shame.

"Look at me."

Despite his command, I continued to look down in shame.

"Warrior priest of Khonshu, look at me."

I finally averted my gaze from the floor and stared up at Khonshu in all his glory. "And you still doubt me?" He asked me. I shook my head.

"No, I don't." I said with confidence.

"That's my boy. Do my work. Take vengeance. Spread my awful name, and I will reward you like I always have. With glories."

The moment I blinked, he disappeared from my vision. I stood in the darkness of my room, with nothing but my thoughts. My legs trembling. I hear a knock on my door and the sound of my door opening behind me can be heard.

"Hey, (F/N). Are you alright. I thought I heard voices." Came Tatsumi's voice. I turned to face him. "How are you still standing?" He said with shock.

"He helped me." I said, jabbing my thumb in the direction behind me, at the Khonshu statue.

A dark shadow covered the moonlight coming in through the window. Both Tatsumi and I looked at the window in shock to see a figure smash through and knock the two of us back. I got a good look at the man and saw that he was clad in hood and skull mask.

It was the man known as The Taskmaster.

Tatsumi stood up to try and take him on, and but Taskmaster threw a knife at him. The handle collided with Tatsumi's forehead and knocked him out cold.

"Wow, that was intense there for a second. Now then, shall we get started?" Said taskmaster. He looked at Tatsumi, shaking his head in disappointment. "Y'know, you should do a better job at covering your tracks, kid."

I responded by throwing a crescent dart at him. To which, he caught it without much effort and flung it back at me, lodging it into my hand.

"Uh-oh, someone's unclear with the concept. Let me clarify. You, are the ass kick-ee in this scenario. I, am the ass kick-er. We just have to remember our roles. If we remember our roles, I'll be able to deliver my little message." He grabbed me by the throat and picked me up off the floor.

"The gist of the message is really simple. I'm going to kill you. Really, reeeeally painfully."

Authors note: I am really sorry for the delay.