Lost: Casa Perdida [Completed]

For Alice, Timothy, Hernanda, and Shifaly!

"No!" shouted Kirt as that monster brought the scimitar down on Hernanda. "No!" he shouted, tears rolling down his eyes. The monster buried the blade deep inside her.

All the memories they had together flashed before his eyes. That night at the winter dance, the day he saved her when she got into trouble in the woods. The feeling he felt when she came to rescue him. 

"No, please!" he shouted, coughing, as that monster raised the knife once more. "Nooo!"

Chlunk! the psycho buried the blade deeper into Hernanda's back. Blood poured out of it

Kirt hoisted himself up, despite the pain, and then fell when his leg gave away. 

He tried once again, using his bleeding, cut arms to help him, but they buckled.

The psychopath left the blade jutting out of Hernanda's back and looked around. Then it took the blade and struck once again. 

"Noooo!" screamed Kirt. He took the rock that had fallen on his toes and slung it. But his throw was so weak that it only fell three footsteps ahead of him. 

He crawled on the ground towards the monster, wanting to stop him from stabbing Hernanda. He sniffled as he saw Hernanda dying. He wished that it was he who received the stabs. Not her. 

He dragged his bleeding body across the ground, like a snail. The knife had been buried in Hernanda many times. 

Kirt used the tree bark next to him to help him, but stumbled and fell once again. He looked at the thicket by his right. 

There was something. He pulled aside the leaves and pulled out what was a pistol. Pulling it out, he recognized that it was familiar. It resembled the same gun that Shifaly had discovered. 

Staring at that psychopath, who took a pause from stabbing Hernanda, Kirt saw that the cloak he was wearing was torn, revealing something like metal armor. He had read somewhere that bullets can pierce through medieval armor. If the monster was wearing medieval armor, Kirt could penetrate it with a bullet. 

He pulled the trigger.

Nothing. 

The gun only made a click sound. He pulled out the magazine, there was nothing inside. 

The monster faced him and was running towards him. Kirt fell on his haunches.

He smacked the gun on the ground, following a piece of advice the old man in Herculeville who taught him to shoot told him, hoping to clear a jam, and heard another click. Before the monster could bring the scimitar closer, Kirt aimed for his chest and pulled the trigger.

BANG!

The scimitar fell and that monster lost balance and collapsed on his back.

Kirt got up and slowly made his way to the fallen monster. 

Timothy had gotten up then and had walked up to the bush. He was dizzy and was clutching his wound which was spilling a lot of blood. 

Kirt took hold of the scimitar.

"Don't!" Timothy shouted in a quavering voice. "I want to do it. For Shifaly." Looking at Hernanda's pierced body, he added, "For Hernanda."

"Timothy, no. You're injured."

"No! I wanna do it. 

He walked up to Kirt and took the scimitar. "How did you bring it down?"

"A gun."

Timothy recognized that it was the one he had thrown away.

"Wasn't it empty."

"No. Jammed."

Timothy bent down, scimitar in hand. He then paused and began to cry. Cry over Shifaly. Cry over Alice. "Where's Alice?" he asked.

"She's dead, Timothy."

"How?"

"Starvation and worms."

"Arghhh!" Timothy took the scimitar and with full fury brought it down. 

The monster woke up and moved his neck. The scimitar grazed the mask and cut it on the left side, before digging into the ground. 

Kirt was horrified that he wasn't dead, and fell because his legs buckled in pain. His cramps hurt.

Timothy tried to lift the scimitar, and before he could do it, the monster caught the sharp end, and they began wrestling. Timothy tried bringing the blade to the psychopath's neck and he pushed the blade towards Timothy. The monster's gloves tore and blood was dripping as he pushed the sharp end. It was the bones underneath his palm. that prevented the blade from cutting through his hands. 

The tabled turned as the blade was then closer to Timothy's neck.

They struggled, pushing the blade towards each other. 

Timothy let go of the blade, and they both began punching each other. Timothy took two weak blows and gave three to the monster.

In one deft move, when Timothy lost focus after being struck on the nose, he put his thumbs on Timothy's eyes and as Timothy pummeled him, he continued to press.

Timothy screamed and yelped.

Boof! His eyes were shoved in and were crushed. He began screaming and fell to the side, clutching his eyes

Kirt tried lifting himself up, to save Timothy but before he could do anything, the monster grabbed the scimitar and shoved it down Timothy's throat. 

Timothy gurgled as his own lifeblood began to flood his mouth, pouring out of its brim and that of the wound in his neck.

The monster got up and began to walk towards Kirt. Kirt propped himself up, took the other half of the monster's broken blade, and ran towards him.

The monster threw the scimitar at Kirt but instead of striking him in the neck, it struck his shoulder. Kirt continued to limp towards his target and just before that psychopath could hold his neck, he thrust the broken blade up into his chin and through his mouth. 

Blood leaked out and the monster let go of Kirt's neck. He did a macabre death dance and finally collapsed.

Kirt dislodged the scimitar from his shoulder.

He finally removed the mask to reveal the face of a man staring back at him, a grisly sight considering the shard of the broken blade sticking out underneath his chin.

"This is for Shifaly!" Kirt drove the scimitar into that monster's left eye. 

"This is for Alice!" Kirt punctured his right eye.

"For Timothy!" he punctured the psycho's neck.

Looking at Hernanda, he finally lifted the blade in the air and brought it down once again into the monster's mouth. 

Roderigo Franceso — the monster underneath the mask, Mr. Black — died, shocked that his immortality-complex was shattered by a teen wielding a broken blade and a scimitar. All the murders he committed and the faces of people he had skinned and eaten alive flashed before his eyes before his soul left his body.