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He swung the ax, once, twice, and a third time, and the object of his ire was dead. There was a rush of joy/adrenaline/excitement as the last of the buried avatars like left his eyes. The blood looked and felt a bit like red clay and mud more than anything, so it was a different than the spray of blood he enjoyed, but he had been itching for this for a long time, and was starting to get very irritated at work.
He liked his assistants, and his job, and he didn’t want to hurt any of them or lose his new position. Being the cause of lost limbs would spell out terribly for his career. Even if his temper was raised and he had a terrible time of showing his care.
Jon rolled his shoulders and looked down at the body of the Grave Digger. He kicked the corpse into the hole that had been dug already, the thud satisfying a sick part of him. He didn’t bother covering the body, no one would ever connect it. Section 31 would wipe this off the face of the earth. Finally he was ready to go back home and clean off the clay-like blood from his shirt and ax.
He had work the next day.
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The three archival assistants had noticed something strange with Jon. There were days when he got very quiet, almost angry. Those were days that he was snippy and irritable. Tim was the one handling their boss those days, because he was best equipped to be a dick right back, which usually made Jon realize he was being a dick and back off. This caused a few issues but they were always resolved with a stiff apology from both men. Jon was getting better about his attitude though.
Then he would come to work sometimes looking happy as could be. He hummed and worked faster, looking peaceful. Those days he even laughed sometimes, laughter was rare from him though.
Jon was short as well. This wasn't important but it was an observation, which is what researchers do. Skinny and probably only five foot or five one. He had hair that he kept in a secretary bun almost religiously, and wore sweater vests and button ups and slacks, or occasionally a skirt. He was probably the least intimidating man in the world, looking more like a grandpa than a professional, even if his glare could make a gorgon turn to stone.
When Jane Prentiss came to the institute, all four of them were trapped in document storage. For some odd reason Jon had an ax on his person, and where did he even get that? They were a little confused as to how he could even carry it as easy as he did. He carried it like it was his natural, but the ax looked so hefty against his shoulders.
After a few minutes of all of them freaking out, Jon slammed the blunt edge of the ax into the wall, bring down the drywall like it was nothing. The hole in the wall lead directly into the tunnels and they wondered how he knew that.
“What the fuck was that Jon!?” Tim yelled, he was limping from the worms that had gotten his calf and thigh. Jon was walking perfectly fine, even though he got the vast majority of holes that were bleeding profusely up and down his body. He looked horrible. They wondered if he was ok, and how he was even walking through the injuries.
Jon took a deep breath, “Just a bit of property damage. Wish I didn’t have to do that.” He grimaced at the broken in drywall, he still was mad that he had to break it. His archives!
He went in front of all of them and seemed to be trying to lead them out. They knew that he had no clue where they were either, even as he tried to show a brave face. There was an anticipation in his gait that set them on edge, he was waiting for something.
Jon perked up, as if he heard something. It was almost animalistic. Were his eyes glowing or was Tim imagining that? Sasha's face showed how petrified they all felt, as they all turned to see what Jon was looking at. They saw Jane Prentiss at the end of the hallway, she was grinning and dragging her worm infested feet closer. Her worm riddled mouth made their stomachs turn in disgust.
Before Jane could even speak a goading syllable, Jon was running at her faster than light. He raised the ax and it came down with a sickening crack through her neck. She screamed, and it sounded like every worm was screaming as well. He didn’t go completely through the first time and made a disappointed noise as he swung again. This time her head came off. It was strangely a clean cut. Worms started pouring out of where her head had been attached to her neck like a mass of white. Jon was covered in her silvery blood. There was a moment when he stepped back a few steps, and then kicked her head away from himself.
Her head flew and fell into a crowd of shriveling worms with a wet thump.
Jon huffed a laugh, looking in disbelief, “Didn’t think that would work.” Then he grinned.
“Well. I fixed part of the problem. Now one of you has Co2 on you right?” Sasha nodded and started spraying the body of Prentiss and all the worms around it. Martin did the same, even as he winced at the irritated holes in his wrists. The manic expression on Jon’s face was slightly unsettling, but they chalked it up to him being absolutely floored that he had just stopped Jane Prentiss from killing them all.
Jon straightened. There was less danger but they still had to get out from under the institute and warn everyone else. The worms could already be in the upper levels of the building.
It seemed like they walked for hours, but it must have only been thirty minutes.
They all found themselves in artifact storage through a trapdoor. It was dark, but Tim thankfully had a flashlight on his phone, him being the only one with his phone on him. He walked next to Jon and lit the way, his limp was noticeable and Sasha winced in sympathy as her chest ached.
There were nimble footsteps that were not any of their own, and Jon’s head perked up again. Sasha saw that his eyes were not brown anymore, but a deep red. The bright red that reminded her of blood just shed. It was unsettling to see them so different, but it must have been the light right? They all walked in silence, terrified of the thing that was walking in Artifact storage, it was not human they could tell from its gait.
Then Jon stopped walking. Martin ran into him from behind but Jon stood firm. Surprisingly unmovable for such a tiny thing. He motioned for them to get behind him, and for some reason they did. It might have been funny if it were any other situation. Jon was unintimidating as anything and Tim was usually the heroic one. Still they stood behind him, trusting him as he stood his ground.
Artifact Storage was dark and dusty. It smelled like stretched rubber, and something that was almost sickly sweet. Jon stood up straight and then he took a deep breath.
“Come out come out wherever you are!” It sounded wrong in his voice, the posh accent slightly sing-songy. They were all reminded of a bad american horror movie.
The footsteps stopped before starting again, coming closer and faster. Tim was about to scream at Jon for being an idiot before the thing came around the corner and shocked him silent. It had long limbs, its neck was grotesque and its face was a shifting thing, every feature changing every second. Its paper white flesh stretched over long bones with too many joints.
They all gasped as the light hit the creature.
Then it screamed. Jon had taken an ax to its too long arm. He slammed the edge down to break a bone before going back to swing at it with the sharp edge. The things screamed again and grabbed Jon with its sharp nails, tearing into his shoulder. This didn’t stop him from swinging again, even as if picking him up by where it had sunk into his flesh.
Jon snarled angrily, his face a perfect rendition of pure anger and something else more unsettling, and swung the ax right into the things face, once, twice, and third times a charm! Split right down the middle!
He hit the ground with a thud as the thing screamed, its blood shifting colors and then turning into dust as it touched the ground. Jon huffed and coughed from the inhalation of the multicolored blood dust.
He was covered in both Jane’s and the shifting things blood. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing to be sporting, and they had to get out of there. They saw him breathing heavy, bleeding profusely from both wormholes and the place where the thing had tore into him. His eyes were indeed red, and they shined like an animals when the flashlight was pointed at him. Slowly his face went from glee to exhaustion, his arms loosening the fighting stance he held the ax in, the head of it scraping the floor unplesantly.
Jon scrunched his nose, “Gross.” The blood thirst was gone, leaving only Jon feeling very uncomfortable in his dusty bloody clothes and sleepy.<
“Jon how the fuck are you alive?!” Sasha asked.
“Yeah I have the same question!” Martin yells.
Jon looks at his ax and then stretches, hefting the weapon over his shoulder like a lumberjack, “Uh. Well I don’t know how to explain actually. The important thing is that the threats are gone.”
With a glance at his shoulder he finally started looking a bit worried about the situation. But he turned to all of them, “Are you all alright? That thing didn’t get anyone else?”
“I thought you didn’t believe in the supernatural!” Tim yelled, “Your whole logical thing-”
“Yes Tim I believe in that stuff. I just, would rather not think about it.”
Sasha laughed slightly disbelieving, “Yeah well you seem to be the supernatural right now. Killing two monsters?”
Jon froze slightly, blinking a few times, then he rolled his shoulder, hissing in pain. That's when everyone really noticed their own injuries and decided that the interrogation could happen when they all were actually bandaged up.
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Sadly the ax from his office was confiscated, which was rude but fair. Jon was a bit sad but it was now Section 31’s property now, covered in fear monster blood. He was just glad that he still had his favored one at home. Jon was healing well faster than a person should, he was pissed at getting hurt in the first place, usually he was more careful.
It was fun to have something to fight back though, even if he didn’t care for a hunt. The thing's fear was fulfilling as a full coarse meal. Though he wished he was alone when he fought these things, he rather didn't want his assistants dealing with the supernatural as much as he did. It was also a negative that they saw that side of him. He thought about how they had gotten out.
The body of Gertrude Robinson had been found in the tunnels, murdered and left there to fester. That didn’t really bode well for him, seeing as he had walked out of the institute looking like a horror movie villain, even though Gertrude had been shot, not ax murdered. Still it showed he had the capability of ending something life, even if not human, but the Section officers knew the supernatural as well as he did. The suspicious looks from the regular police had still grated on his nerves. He would never hurt an innocent person! No matter how much he wanted to snap and go crazy. There was also his distaste for guns. The ambulance people had taken them all to the hospital after an interrogation.
He was not ready for the inevitable confrontation by his assistants about what happened that day, no matter how many times he tried to rehearse what to say.
“Jon. What happened?” Jon found that Sasha had taken a leaf from his book, and automatically got into the questions. Tim and Martin were next to her. He felt like a suspect, just like he had the night of Jane.
“Let's start from the beginning I suppose.
One night I was sleeping in my flat, trying to be rested for an interview. I woke up to a man breaking my door down, waking me up with the noise. I was freaking out, because this large man with a knife bigger than my hand was swinging it everywhere, trying to hurt me. I was tired and out of it and angry at being woken up.
My phone was dead, and I couldn't call anyone. It's a little silly but adrenaline made me grab the nearest thing and use it as a weapon. This man was unnaturally strong, and he had taken getting hit with ease. Then he pinned me to the wall and held the knife up. When he stabbed me, I was going to pass out from both fear and pain. The knife went straight through m shoulder. Instead I felt a rush of energy, mania if I had to put a name to it, and kicked him hard enough that he stumbled in confusion. I suppose he wasn't used to people fighting back so hard. There was a moment of tense silence when I pulled the knife out of my own shoulder and stabbed him. It killed him. It was the only thing I could think of doing. In that situation. The police came and I met section 31 for the first time. This man was a serial killer with a violent streak, and was associated with the supernatural.
After that I started feeling angrier, and somehow I was stronger than before. I had a strange hunger and then I realized that it was the same feeling I got after being stabbed, the sudden knowledge I needed to save myself.
I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but I was getting weak and sick. So I resorted to killing ‘monsters.’ The more scared they are of me, the more unpredictable that they would die the better. I never liked the chasing, but it was better to find things that hurt others than to become one.”
The looks he got were a mix of scared and confused. It made him sad and irritated and nervous. He chewed his lip and looked away..
“That’s why your eyes were red.” Sasha said, stated as fact.
Jon shrugged, looking thoughtful, “Well I didn’t know they did that, but I suppose.” He paused and then fidgeted with his hands, “You aren’t scared of me right?”
The three assistants looked at each other and then Jon.
Martin spoke first, “No I’m not. You aren’t that intimidating, even if you seem to have super strength.”
“Nah boss. I think you’re fine. Murdering monsters is kinda hot.” Tim grinned, and gave a look to Martin, who turned a bit red. This made Jon try to hide a huffing laugh. It was so like Tim to try and hide things with humor.
Sasha hummed, “I don’t think I am. You did protect us, and you only kill monsters.”
Jon sighed, looking a bit better. He was relieved to not be thought of as a monster. It had been a reason as to why he distanced himself from everyone. He was scared to hurt anyone, scared to become whatever that man in his apartment had been.
“Uh. I will caution you all that sometimes I fly into a rage, I've been very good about not getting irrational. If that ever happens just… throw me into a cabinet or something and let me calm down.”
This made them all laugh, which Jon counted as a win.
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Melanie King had started her employment. Her and Jon had butted heads but this was too much.
Both of them were glaring at the other, thankfully after a few years of dealing with a slaughter avatar, the knives and weapons were nowhere in sight for either of them. This did not stop both of them from sneering and leaping at each other like demons from hell ready to brawl.
Martin and Tim had no clue what to do, and they were both a little scared to get in between the fight. The two were practically a ball of rage, fighting and wrestling each other. It looked horrifically violent and uncomfortable. At first Melanie had the upper hand, sending a shocking punch straight to Jon’s cheek. Jon took it with a snarl, before flipping them and sending an elbow straight to her gut.
Melanie might have thrown Jon, and he landed in a graceless heap, but easily rolled away from her before knocking her down and catching her in a choke hold. He held her like that, his arm tight across her neck. She headbutted him hard enough that they think they heard a crack. Jon let go only for them to start trying to pin the other again. She turned and looked like she was choking him, her hand tight around his own throat. He scratched at her and she hissed before letting go.
Sasha gasped, and then the fighting ended with Melanie getting in the last hit, a punch straight to Jon’s mouth. Jon had a split lip when they both stood, but they were both alive and not unconscious.
They were a terrible mess, but somehow they were both laughing. Melanie wiped blood from her nose, holding said blood smeared hand out for Jon to shake. He took it with his own dirty hand.
“That was fun Sims.”
“Yes it was Ms. King.”
Jon had a split lip and his right cheek was terribly bruised. Was that a hand shaped bruise on his throat?
Melanie had a black eye and blood coming from her nose, there were scratches on her forearm.
Martin had already run to get the first aid kit. Melanie and Jon nodded at each other. It seems they came to an agreement. Soon it became a staple to see them tearing at each other, not really maiming each other but getting out the rage that built from the Slaughter.
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Jon grinned as he sent the ax through Nikola Orsinov’s plastic body. The mannequin screamed and it was scared. It wasn't in pain, since it was plastic and not flesh. He could manage with that though, it was the fear he loved, not the gore. Finally Nikola stopped screaming and he thinks that that's it, and it is. The limp plastic form made him scoff.
It was satisfying really. There was no Unknowing if he got rid of the most important person. He felt accomplished, and was almost excited to go tell the others what happened. They would be happy to hear he dealt with the problem.