Lionhearts ||Skephalo||

1

"Skeppy I- it's going numb, my whole arm," George says in a panic, and Skeppy nods,

"We shouldn't touch it, no flesh contact in case it spreads. Take off your shirt since it touched that and could've infected it."

George obeys, keeping the cut away from anything else. Bad returns, holding the hot cloth his hands, unease clear in his gaze.
"Bad, don't touch it with your hands," Skeppy advises, "Try to only let the cloth contact it, and then we'll boil it."

Bad nods, now focusing on cleaning the injury. George flinches rhythmically in time to each swipe of the cloth, and almost cries out in pain once it starts bleeding again, the flesh around the edges still looking dangerous and dead. Bad looks up,
"This is bad Skeppy, like really bad. I can't tell if it's venom or infection or what, but it might've gotten into his bloodstream, and if it has and is a venom we need an antivenom as soon as possible."

George looks pale, and murmurs,
"I think I'm gonna throw up." He doesn't though, swallowing it down as Bad bandages his arm securely to make sure that the injury has no contact with the air. Better safe than sorry.

Skeppy takes him by the shoulders gently, and leans in, whispering,
"Bad, you've got to hide. You're the only one here with any medical skill- and the rest of the town might need you if they make it out. George and me are warriors, we can fight, but I don't want to put you in harm's way."

Bad puffs out his cheeks, crossing his arms,
"I can fight Skeppy! You don't have to treat me like a child, I'm older than you after all."

Skeppy searches for a reason besides his own desperation to keep Bad safe, and comes up empty,
"Bad, I...I really don't want you to fight. Could you do this for me? Could you hide for my sake?"

There's screams outside, and George, pulling one of Skeppy's shirts, a blue tshirt, perks up nervously.

Before Bad can answer, there's an explosion down the road that leaves a ringing in their ears, and Skeppy gestures towards his cellar, the bunker concealed under it, and mouths "GO!" to Bad, who reluctantly complies as the other two open the door, peering out to see seemingly an army of dark purplish black, half-serpentine creatures, with unnervingly bright lilac eyes, a neon purple that matches with the familiar gaze of an enderman, flooding the streets from the left of the door.

Coming from the right were...grotesque things. They didn't seem quite alive, nor dead, not unlike zombies and zombified piglin, their distorted bodies lurching through the streets with speed that Skeppy would've preferred them to not have. He shuts the door behind himself and George, bolting it, and draws his sword. He'd been carrying it with him in case of an emergency- this counts as an emergency.

George shifts uncomfortably, his arm itching and his head growing warm. He readies his sword, and they begin to struggle their way through the tide, George earning more ugly scratches marring his face and arms, Skeppy beating the creatures away with the rim of his shield and avoiding injury from their necrotizing claws. George's shield wasn't holding up- he tried to block an attack like Skeppy, but it only earned him another vicious scratch.

They push their way through the crowd back towards the houses, towards possible survivors, but by this time George is deathly pale- his eyes seem to be wandering and he looks, honest to goodness, horrible.

"Hello?" Skeppy shouts, swinging his sword at one of the serpentine creatures, "Is anyone still alive out here?!"

No answer reaches his ears except the sound of George collapsing to the ground. Skeppy looks over in horror, seeing the purple from the scratches leaking further into his friend's skin, his gaze glassy and blank. He reaches out to try touching him, testing for a pulse, but his skin is burning up, to an unnatural level.

He's a goner, Skeppy's mind whispers, but he desperately refuses to accept it, even though he sees no breaths being taken, no rise and fall of George's chest.

He forces himself to try to think objectively. He needs to get out of here- he needs to-

A scream splits the air, and Skeppy's heart almost stops in his chest right then and there.
Bad!

His mind moving on from grieving George, he throws himself back into the fray, towards his house.
A tall figure clad in red, flowing robes is dragging Bad out, the young man battered and struggling violently against the grip on him, against the figure's iron hold on his wrists. Skeppy shouts wordlessly, cutting down another one of the shambling beings as he struggles to get through in time.

He can see other villagers huddled, wrists bound, held at arrowpoint by what look like piglin.
They're placing obsidian, forming the frame of a portal.

Skeppy's desperation peaks as he sees Bad get smacked roughly, and then dragged while in shock towards the other captives, and his sword sends something's innards splashing onto his shirt.
He has no time for horror or revulsion, bringing the blade down again, struggling. The crush of the swarm begins to push him backwards though, and despite his struggles, he ends up back in the square where he had left George- George.

A figure wearing a mask is lifting the body, examining him, and then hefting him into a firm grip, carrying him-
Why would it take him away? He's dead, surely- he wasn't breathing!

The swarming crowds begin to disperse as the masked figure turns, walking away dismissively. A purple light floods the area, a deep rumbling shaking the air.

Skeppy turns, the undead beings having begun to disperse, and his fear is confirmed. The portal is lit, and the prisoners are being pushed through, Bad still being held by the figure. He's not moving now- but Skeppy wastes no time, throwing himself back into battle with reckless abandon, almost suicidally slicing his way through the remainder, screaming Bad's name as he lunges, trying to reach the portal before it's too late.

He gets so close. He can see the purple light enveloping Bad's body, his green eyes wide and full of fear as he mouths Skeppy's name. He might've said it as he's taken from this realm. Skeppy doesn't get to hear. The explosion that rocks the area, throwing him backwards as the portal is deactivated, fills his ears with a brutal ringing and nothing else.

His last thought as he hits his head on the stone path behind him was,
If he had come with us, would he have been safe?

And then pain shot through his head and his vision flickers out. Skeppy is granted merciful darkness, the pain fading with the thoughts of his taken friends.