Bane

April 5, 1980

"Go. False life, you do not belong here."

"Jonathan, I'm not here as a cop. Is that Trent? Is that Trent Henley?"

The eyes narrowed. "It was."

L.C. feigned relief, and released a sigh. "Then you got him. It's fine. It's alright. Listen, Jonathan..."

"Jonathan Walker is dead."

L.C. saw flashes, images, Jonathan walking hand in hand with Nadjia across a vast expanse beyond the terrible tree. "No."

Not now!

He could feel Driftwood's grim satisfaction.

"We can fix this, Jonathan. I can take you home. Your Order can fix this. Trent had it coming."

L.C. watched the green eyes close a moment, and reopen, the silhouette of Jonathan's head turned and regarded the rotting corpse. Then, those eyes were on him again.

"I care nothing of the dead thing here. There is no home."

L.C. drew a cigar from his trenchcoat pocket, and lit it. "I suppose we can stop pretending."

"Pretending?"

"Lying to one another. You're not Jonathan."

"...and you are abomination, false life."

L.C. drew a long drag from his cigar and exhales a cloud of thick smoke. "Well then, what are you going to do about it?"

No answer.

"That's fine. I'm not up for conversation, either."

L.C. drew his revolver and trained it on the silhouette in the corner. He saw a grin from on its face, those teeth that were all at once only teeth, and somehow sharp. L.C. fired, and the silhouette dodged the bullet.

Impossible.

Nothing is impossible.

(Run Polovatski!)

The silhouette agressed on him, and L.C. fired a flurry of shots at its center mass. Each shot struck his intended target, and the filth covered monster wearing the face of Jonathan Walker collapsed, sliding toward L.C. and leaving a body-wide slick of blood on the floorboards.

L.C., cigar clenched in his teeth, nudged the body. It was wearing the clothes worn by The Order. Without warning, it reach up and grasped L.C.'s ankles and pulled. L.C. fell onto the flat of his back, tucking his chin close to his chest as he did. The creature rose up to its knees as L.C. emptied the cylinder of his revolver, and replaced the spent cartridges.

The creature roared in pain, its body contorting. L.C. could hear popping bone, and tearing fabric splitting at the seams. It was growing.

L.C. pulled himself away from the creature on his elbows, rolled backward onto his feet, and fired his weapon again until the weapon was dry firing.

The creature fell onto it's back, its hands pulling at its clothes, tearing its shirt away from its body.

L.C. could see the bleeding bullet wounds, bones shifting beneath swelling muscle and skin. Flashes of pale white and cream feathers flashed through his mind again.

"Yanshuf..."

The creature sat up, its face twisted in an expression of pain, teeth clenched in a grimace. "...Bane."

It pushed itself to its knees, the cracking and shifting bone beneath its skin and muscle slowing.

L.C. was reloading as it rose slow to its feet. It was fast, and it was on him, a long blade and a short blade drawn.

L.C. spat out his cigar as Bane thrust the daggers down, and L.C. deflected them with his heavy revolver, the blades scoring the muzzle to the cylinder. L.C. answered back, pistol whipping Bane across the face and knocking him back onto his knees.

L.C. has six rounds left. The creature was not going to die. As Bane rose back to his feet, L.C. took slow steps away from him. He controlled his breathing, willed away his wild pulse, and ignored the adrenaline surging through his body. He aimed for the creature's knee and fired. The shot grazed the side of its thigh, and Bane howled.

L.C. fired again, squeezing two shots free, and watched as the creature's knee exploded in a spectacular shower of blood and bone shards.

Bane screamed, collapsing onto his injured knee. L.C. fired his remaining three rounds into Bane's chest and knocked the creature onto its back.

"I'm not waiting to see what happens next." L.C. backed toward the crumbling hole in the wall from where he came.

Bane pushed himself to his elbows, and glared at him from the center of the ruins. "I will see you again."

"Not today you won't." L.C. hurried out of the ruins, and for the first time in his life, he ran.