Deadwastes

Cold water splashed onto his face, making Mason sputter awake. He looked around wildly, trying to figure out where he was. Wiping off his eyes, he saw a dull orange glow coming from above him.
Blinking away the water, he saw that it was an electrical light, loosely hanging from the ceiling. There was a man standing over him.

He leaned down, looking at Mason. He was wearing a ushanka, and had a large pair of welding goggles covering his eyes. Silently, Mason watched his mouth split into a toothless smile. Grime lined his face, and he seemed to be somewhat elderly.

The man leaned back, putting a large metal bucket back down onto the ground. “Haha! Good morning, boy!” he said, cackling. “Welcome back to the land of the living!”

Mason got up onto his elbows, looking around now with more clarity. It looked like he was in a makeshift cell, with steel bars blocking off the right side of the room. The ground below him was cold and dirty, and the man stood there, leering at him.

“Yous was in pretty bad shape when we found ya. ‘Just leave him’ theys says to ol’ Jeremy. ‘He’s dead’ theys says. No siree! I knew yous was alive and kicking.” he said, laughing.

Mason stood up, looking at the old man.

“W-where am I?” he asked, confused. His head hurt like hell, and he felt unbalanced and wobbly.

“Welcome to the Slaghouse!” Jeremy said enthusiastically. Mason glanced down at himself, surprised. His arms and leg were fine. He was still wearing his coat and stuff, but he noticed his mask was gone.

“How long was I unconscious?” he asked Jeremy, and lifted up his right arm, staring at the burn mark on his elbow. The fight definitely had happened. Well, not quite a fight. More like a beatdown.

Jeremy put his hand on his chin, then looked up, counting to himself silently. “Er… I reckon about a week and a half. You were hurt something fierce. But don’t you worry your lil’ head, Jeremy here gotcha all fixed up. Those bones of yours are something special, though. You healed pretty darn fast all things considered.” he told him.

Mason looked at his arm, moving it around and twisting it. It felt fine. His head felt much clearer now. He marveled at this, guessing that somehow the powers had healed him faster than normal.

“So this is the… Slaghouse? What is it?” he asked Jeremy. Jeremy smiled and started to speak, but was interrupted by a loud slam from the other side of the room. They both turned, watching as a tall man walked into the room, standing across from the bars.

“He’s awake. Good.” he said, then looked Mason up and down with an appraising eye. He was wearing a dark coat, with heavy cargo pants and military boots. His blond hair was short and flat, and he stared at him with intense green eyes.

“Oh, Locke! Yeah, he woke up just a lil bit ago. I told yous he would come around.” said Jeremy, a trace of nervousness in his voice. Mason’s eyes widened at the mention of Locke, and he looked back at Jeremy, then at the man.

This was Locke?

The man nodded. “He’s a good one. Might last a few minutes longer than the others.” he said curtly. He leaned in closer to the bars, staring at Mason with suspicion. “He looks familiar…”

Mason silently looked back at him, at Locke. After a moment, Locke shrugged. “Oh well. It doesn’t matter. Get him kitted up and sent out soon, Jeremy.” he said, then turned around and walked out the small metal door on the opposite end of the room, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

Jeremy nodded. “Well, yous heard him. Follow me.” he said, then grabbed Mason roughly, with a surprising amount of strength, and slammed a pair of shackles over his hands. Mason looked down, confused.

Grabbing the chain between the shackles, he pulled Mason out, unlocking the cell door and taking him through the room, walking off into a dimly lit hallway. He stayed silent while Mason looked around him, confused. He had no idea what was going on, and he didn’t understand what Locke wanted him to do.

A thought ran through his head, chilling him.

What if he knew about the cars?

Mason was the entire reason that they had blown up. Maybe Locked wanted revenge on him. But why did he want him ‘kitted up’? Jeremy pulled on his chains, leading him into a small room that smelled of dust and metal.

He flicked a switch, and a dull yellow light flickered on, showing that it was filled with weapons. No guns, but there were swords, hammers, axes, all made out of scrap metal and junk. None of them looked like they would hold up very long in a fight. Jeremy let out a dry chuckle, then let Mason’s chain drop.

“Now don’t get no crazy ideas. Lotsa guys think they can take one of these and run outta here, but there’s three floors up above and a lotta guys with guns.” he told him, then motioned towards the weapons. “I gotta give you one of these, but I found this on ya when you were cooling off in the snow out there…” he said, then pulled the sword that Mason had gotten out of the back of his pants. It was still in it’s sheath.

Jeremy handed him the blade. “It’ll do you good, I bet. Lot better than anything in here could.” he said, then patted Mason awkwardly on the shoulder. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, but you don’t argue with Locke. That’s how ya die, faster than anything out there could kill ya.” he said, sad, far-away look in his eyes.

Mason coughed, his mouth feeling dry. Jeremy squinted at him, then pulled out a small canteen and handed it to Mason. Eyeing it for a moment, he slowly grabbed it and lifted it to his lips. He took a timid drink, not sure what was inside, but was relieved that Jeremy had just given him some water. Chugging it thirstily, he quickly empted the entire canteen and handed it back to him.

Jeremy grinned his toothless smile. “I like yous. You got a soft look in the eyes, something I ain’t seen in a long time. Like this world hasn’t broken ya yet. So I’m gonna give you some advice.” he said, then leaned in close to Mason’s right ear.

“Go for the neck.” he whispered. Then he leaned back up, and turned towards the hallway. Picking Mason’s chains up, he pulled him back into the dim hallway, then lead him off towards the right. They went at a slow pace, taking their time. Jeremy had gone silent again, leaving Mason time to think.

The air down here was cold and dry. He looked around, watching as they went past dark doors that looked like they hadn’t been opened in a long time. Jeremy tugged on his chain, pulling him forward. Mason felt sore, and the sword in his hands felt awkward to hold with the chains around his wrists.

After a while, they stopped at a set of stairs leading upward. They were cramped, shoved into the wall without any lights. Jeremy dragged Mason upwards, taking him into the abyss. Mason stumbled in the darkness, but Jeremy patiently waited for him, letting him find his footing whenever he tripped. The stairs felt like they were dragging on forever.

In the cold dark, Mason felt the chill falling around him, twisting and wrapping itself around his ears. He shuddered, feeling a strange longing. A small light caught his eyes, and Mason squinted upwards, realizing that it was a grate in a metal door at the top of the steps. When they reached it, resting at the top of the stairs with a small stone area in front of it, Jeremy turned towards him.

Mason saw a flash of metal in his hands, and backed away quickly, worried that he was going to get stabbed or something. Jeremy pulled him back, then put the key that he was holding into the cuffs, unlocking them. The chains rattled to the floor. Jeremy chuckled at Mason’s fear, then pushed him in front of him towards the door.

“Good luck.” he said, then pulled the door open and shoved Mason outside. He put his hand up to his face, trying to shield his eyes from the sudden brightness. He heard a crowd surrounding him, shouting and yelling. Blinking, he pulled his hand away, looking around in surprise.

They had erected a strange arena, like something out of a movie. It was in a massive room, probably the main floor of wherever they were. It’d been gutted out, making room for a gigantic cage. Crafted out of scrap metal and wire mesh, it surrounded him in a circle, at least fifty feet in any direction if you stood in the middle. The floor was a cold metal, and from the almost chicken-wire roof of the cage hung dozens of long chains. Giant spotlights hung from the top, illuminating the entire arena in a bright yellow light.

From several of the chains there were hung dead bodies, their rancid odor drifting through the arena. They had long claw marks and gashes in them, and strange-looking bite marks. Mason swallowed nervously. What were they planning on doing with him?

A platform lined the outside of the cage, filled with Locke’s men, hooting and hollering at him. They pointed and laughed, mocking him, and he heard snatches of words coming from the assembled mass.

“...no way in hell…”

“...eat him alive…”

“...this’ll be good…”

Mason shook his head, trying to ignore it. Looking ahead of him, he saw Locke himself standing at the opposite end on the platform. He was staring at Mason, his eyes serious and piercing. Out of all of the men, he was the only one not laughing or jeering.

He held up a single hand, and everything became silent. Then he pointed at Mason.

“Do you know why you’re here? What your purpose is?” he asked him.

Mason stood up a little bit taller, looking right back at him, but remained silent. He crossed his arms and waited for him to continue. Locke held his gaze unwaveringly, and they stared at each other, neither giving in.

Eventually, Locke let out a forced smile, then kept talking.

“You serve a very important purpose. While to you this may seem like a cruel twist of fate, to me, this is a necessary sacrifice. My men need a morale boost for our fight tonight. You’re going to provide that morale with your life.” he said to him. The crowd started shouting again.

So he didn’t know that Mason was the one who had blown up the cars. But that didn’t really help him right now. Locke silenced the masses again, then pointed below him, towards a dark door with iron bars covering it.

“This cost me five men and a lot of ammunition. Please make it worth the cost.” he said, then turned and nodded to a man standing behind him. The man hopped off the platform and vanished.

Looking back, Locke let out a flicker of a devilish grin, before regaining his composure and becoming serious once more.

“When it’s done, you’ll be hung on one of these chains,

Within a minute, Mason heard a loud grinding sound, and watched as the metal bars raised themselves upwards from the door. A shriek pierced the air, making everyone, not just Mason, plug their ears. All except Locke, who stood there, still staring at Mason intensely.

The shriek subsided, replaced by a low growling noise. Mason put his hands down and looked towards the dark hole, half-expecting a pair of red eyes to pop out of nowhere. But instead, he watched something much worse crawl out of the darkness.

It reminded him, vaguely, of a rodent. It stood on two strong-looking legs, tipped with three razor sharp claws, and while hunched over was easily at least seven feet tall. It’s long arms ended in a single, massive claw, like a pair of twin scythes. It’s skin was a mottled brown, with yellow blotches spaced haphazardly all over it. A huge, gaping mouth with three teeth, like a rat’s but much sharper, lay at the end of a long, extended head. There were no eyes, no ears, and no visible nose. Just dozens of small, glowing purple bumps, lining the top of its skull. Three massive, black spikes stood on its back, rising and falling in time with the monster’s breathing.

It took a step forward, it’s head aimed towards Mason. It hissed, almost like a snake, and he stared in fear as a long, sinuous tongue came out of its mouth, dragging onto the ground. It was like something out of an actual nightmare. Tentatively stepping around, it began to move to his right slowly, its mouth trained on him. Mason shakily pulled the sword out of its sheath, tossing the leather onto the ground. He held it in front of him with both hands, staring at the beast.

He started moving in the opposite direction of the monster, and they circled each other, pacing around the arena. Mason could feel his hands sweating, and he suddenly felt incredibly hot and uncomfortable. A hushed silence fell over the crowd, as they waited for one of them to make their move.

He knew he couldn’t use his lightning here. If he did, then Locke would surely realize that he was the one who had destroyed all of his cars. And he didn’t think he could take on a crowd of this magnitude.

There was only one way he could win this.

The creature paused, making Mason stop in place. It stood there, it’s long tongue flicking the air. Then it let out another shriek, it’s mouth extending wider than it should have been able to. Mason gritted his teeth, the noise hurting his ears.

Cutting off the shriek abruptly, it got down on all fours, it’s two bladed arms digging into the dirty metal. Crouching low, it’s entire body seemed to crush into the ground, before its legs shot upwards and it launched into the air towards him.

It extended its hands, like a flying mantis, and Mason watched in horror as the shadow of the monster fell over him, the claws gleaming wickedly in the reflection of the spotlights. Mason rolled forward, barely avoiding getting skewered. It shrieked again and turned around, watching as Mason scrambled to get back up.

It walked towards him menacingly, then raised an arm to strike him. Mason managed to lift up his blade in an effort to deflect the blow. Claw and steel crashed together, echoing through the cage, and the crowd let out a gasp. Mason managed to hold on for a good half second, the tip of the monster’s claw centimeters from his face, before it hissed and lifted up a foot, violently kicking him away. Mason felt the tips of the creatures talons dig into his skin, and he let out a cry of pain, eliciting a cruel laugh from the Locksteels.

The creature pushed him a good few feet away, and he fell to the ground, dazed. He glanced down and saw blood where the creature had kicked him. He felt weak.

But he had to get back up. He grabbed the sword, fallen out of his hands, and got to his feet, looking at the monster defiantly. It tilted it’s head slightly, then flicked it’s tongue out again. It was like a snake, tasting the air. Mason leveled the blade at its head, then ran forward, trying to strike as fast as he could.

It stepped backwards, then lunged its head forward, grabbing the sword as it passed in front of its mouth. Mason’s eyes widened, and he tried to pull it out, but he couldn’t. It had a grip on it like a vice. With a loud, horrifying crunching noise, it snapped the sword, breaking off the hilt and the crossguard, leaving only the blade, clattering to the ground.

Mason paled. The crowd was exultant, screaming and laughing at the top of their lungs. He stepped back nervously, as the creature spit out the remains of the sword and turned back towards him, its tongue hanging out of its mouth. Mason scrambled backwards, desperate to get away, as the creature purposefully stepped towards him, malice in every step.

A chill shuddered through him, and he froze in place. The creature stopped, looking at him. A low rumble escaped its chest, and it leaned down, tasting the air, its head warily directed towards him. It took a very, very slight step back.

“What the hell happened? How are we here?” the voice whispered, sounding frustrated.

“And what is THAT?” it asked, but Mason didn’t respond. He was too busy trying to regain some sense of composure.

“I truly wonder how you lived before all of this. Did you need a caretaker or something? Idiot.” it said maliciously. Mason let out a gasp of air as the voice started to fight him for control. The creature stopped watching him, and started to move forward again. Mason knew he that there was absolutely no chance for him to win this fight without using his lightning.

He heard the Locksteels shouting angrily at the beast, demanding it show them blood. Trying to drown them out, he concentrated on the chain, feeling a pounding sensation from the voice trying to break into his body. In his mind, he gripped it tightly, feeling the cold metal wrap around his hands. A blue light flashed in his vision, and he took a deep breath, feeling as prepared he could.

Opening his eyes, he stared at the creature, feeling like he was floating. He raised his palms, and heard the crowd abruptly go silent. A bright blue glow surrounded him, and the creature started to back away quickly now, trying to ascertain the threat he now posed.

He clenched his right hand into a fist and punched through the air towards the beast, letting a bright flash of electricity slip. The creature reacted quickly, crouching down and jumping away as the lightning slammed into the wall. Mason turned towards it, feeling the voice getting stronger and stronger in his mind. He glanced at Locke, who’s face had gone from stoic and passive to raging and hateful. Shouting incoherent obscenities at him, Locke and his men began to rattle and shake the cage, and some took out weapons to try and get through the metal.

Amidst the clamor, Mason put his hands together, focusing on the chain. He pulled it out slowly, continuously, and watched as a stream of electricity pushed out of his hands, crashing into the ground near the monster. It started to run and jump around him, never quite getting near it. Mason turned to try and follow it with the lightning, but he was starting to feel fatigued. He’d never put it out this long before.

A loud grinding noise started from behind him, breaking his concentration and making him turn around. The lightning vanished with a start, and he saw that one of the Locksteels had gotten ahold of an electric saw, and was cutting through the cage towards him.

He started to walk towards them, trying to get them to stop, when a sharp pain exploded in his left shoulder.

Looking back, he saw the tip of the creature’s scythe-arm poking through his shoulder. It glistened with red blood. Mason fell to his knees, feeling like he was going to pass out. The creature lifted up a foot and pushed him off, making him collapse to the ground. The light started to fade, and he felt himself getting pulled into the darkness.

But, before he could drift away, a hand grabbed him by the neck and forcibly pulled him back, turning him towards the bright light of consciousness. A switch felt like it was flipped off in his head, and he felt the voice take control again.

He spat out blood, then wiped his mouth, a smile forming on his lips. The creature stepped back, looking at him with what he assumed to be fear. The voice pulled him back up, and held out his hands in clawlike shapes by his side, bright orange electricity crackling from them. Mason didn’t even try to fight anymore. He just accepted that he had no control, and stood back to watch what was about to unfold.

It held out a hand to his arm, burning the area around the puncture and cauterizing it. Rolling his shoulder, he stood up tall and confident. He was somehow ignoring the pain, making Mason wonder what he’d done before to let him shrug off something like that.

The voice looked at the creature, then glanced at the ground, where the blade lay, cracked and broken. He smiled again, then looked above him, at the roof of the arena.

The creature, getting over it’s fear, let out another shriek, then jumped through the air once more towards him. The voice waited until the creature was right above him, then he dove underneath it, sliding onto the ground and grabbing the blade by the dull end.

It whirled, shrieking again, and sprinted towards him, raising its arms to strike him down. The voice leant down, then leant up as the monster reached him, grabbing it’s head with one hand and pushing himself upwards into the air, slamming it down into the ground at the same time. The crowd paused temporarily, with even Locke staring in awe as Mason’s body launched itself towards the roof of the arena.

He grabbed one of the chains that was hung from the top, looking down at the creature. He put the blade into his mouth and climbed up, reaching the top of the cage. It shook itself off the ground and looked up at him, screaming in rage. He hung there and stared down at it, and Mason was left to wonder what exactly the voice had planned.

The creature readied itself, then jumped through the air towards him, this time with it’s mouth wide open and ready to crush him. At the last second, he slid down the chain rapidly, hanging on to the bottom as the creature violently bit into the chain, snapping it in half. Falling to the ground, the creature landed on it’s back, screeching loudly. It quickly flipped itself back up, landing with a thud on its heavy legs. It was angry now.

The voice made Mason land on his feet, kneeling down with hands to his side. He dropped the blade out of his mouth, grabbing it in his right hand, then yanked the end of the chain towards him.

It pulled the beast out from under its feet, but it simply hopped backwards and leant down again, not to leap, but to wait for him to attack. It was realizing that he wasn’t an easy meal as previously thought. Now it was fighting something that was as ferocious, if not more, than itself.

The voice wrapped the chain around the dull, broken end of the sword, then put his hands on it, letting out a short current of burning-hot electricity. Pulling his hands away, Mason realized that he’d welded them together. The chains and the end of the blade glowed brightly, the metal still intensely hot.

He dropped it to his side, wrapping the chain around his hand. Twirling it slightly, he glanced around him, to the men who were literally seconds away from breaking into the cage and attacking him. He flung the chain into the side of the cage, hooking it around one of the bars.

Looking up, he saw Locke staring at him still, motionless. He let out a grin again, then stood up and watched him right back. Locke’s eyes widened ever so slightly, then he stood back far from the cage.

“WAIT! No, stop, get ba-” he started, but it was too late.

Orange lightning flared from Mason’s arms, surging down the chain and into the metal bars that surrounded the cage. It quickly spread throughout the entire arena’s metal, creating a dazzling light show.

At least half of the men there were grabbing the bars, trying to get to him, and as the lightning rushed towards their hands, they let out painful, agonized screams. They couldn’t let go of the bars, their muscles refusing to cooperate. Locke watched with as much fear and hatred as he could allow, staring at the men who were being killed by their own bloodlust.

The smell of burning flesh quickly filled the entire, massive room, and those who hadn’t been grabbing the bars yelled in fear and ran away, desperate to get away from the terror they had unleashed upon themselves.

One by one, the men at the bars collapsed, falling to the ground. The two who were using the electric saw lost their hands as it exploded, shards of metal and blade flying through the air and landing in others. With a flourish, the voice pulled the chain out of the side of the cage, then bowed deeply.

“You’re sadistic.” Mason thought.

“Damn right.” it responded.

It stood him back up, then looked back at the creature, now cowering in fear. It turned around and scrambled towards the wall, furiously striking at the bars to get out. With a sweep of his hand, he wrapped the chain around his forearm, holding the blade loosely in his hand. He walked towards the monster slowly, taking his time.

He stopped right behind it, then crossed his arms. It stopped attacking the wall, turning around towards him. It got low, and let out a defiant hiss. The voice let out a chuckle, then held his left hand upwards towards the monster, snapping his fingers.

A stream of orange lightning swept out from behind him, striking the monster in the chest. It kept going, pushing it towards the wall. Screeching, it tried to move forward, but it was already over. The creature slammed against the bars, letting out a dying moan. Right before it seemed like it was going to die, though, the voice stopped the lightning, suddenly.

It got close to the monster, crouching down and looking at it’s disgusting form. Then it stood back up, kicked it in the head violently, and threw the sword upward. Letting out a small charge into the chain, it seemingly aligned itself vertically, then shot straight down, impaling the monster. It let out a final gurgle, dark purple blood dripping out of it’s jaw, then it was no more.

Mason would have gagged, if he could’ve. The voice laughed again, then looked around, staring at the entire arena.

Nobody was here anymore. They had all either ran off or died. Mason was completely petrified with the power the voice had just exercised. It walked over to the sheath that was laying on the ground, picked it up, then dropped the blade inside. It wrapped the chain around it, and reattached it to the belt he was wearing.

Then, with a quiet laugh still echoing in Mason’s ears, it faded away. The rush of control came back over him, along with the pain of his shoulder. He put a hand to his arm, gasping. It hurt like hell, but at least he wasn’t going to pass out anymore. He looked around, and spotted the part of the cage where the saw had been. It was mostly open, and he walked over to it. Grabbing the sides of the bars, he slowly crawled upwards, then pulled himself out, landing on the platform outside.

Looking around, he spotted a large door on the far side of the wall, open to the outside world. He hopped off the platform and got down to the ground, walking across to the door. After a minute, he stepped outside, feeling the cold start to come down on his face. Looking around, he saw with start that there were a ton of cars here, filled with the rest of the Locksteels and ready to drive away. He crouched down, not wanting anyone to see him.

Peeking around, he saw Locke standing on top of one of the cars at the front, looking out over the crowd. He was shouting something.

“We need to go now! Before that monster follows us! Go!” he said, then hopped onto a motorcycle and gunned it. The rest of the cars rumbled to life and sped off after him. Mason realized they were going to do something horrible, likely to…

Oh god.

He hadn’t been able to warn Jackson. They might already be dead. He stood back up, cold sweat starting to drip off his face, and sprinted after one of the cars, leaping onto the back of a heavy, armored van at the very end of the convoy. His heart sinking into his stomach, he held on tightly to the back, unwilling to let go. He needed to know if they were still alive or not. If they weren’t, maybe he could save whoever they were going after now.

And if they weren’t alive, if he was too late, he could practice a little bit of what the voice had just shown him. Hugging the back of the van, he felt a taste of the rage that the voice always made him feel, but this time he didn’t argue against it.

In fact, he felt like it be useful quite soon.