Chapter IX: Banana Power

Tom meets the Banana Man. Who is this mysterious stranger?

The soldiers opened fire. The bright muzzle flares of semi-automatic assault rifles provided all the light I needed. I drew my swords. The first flash I saw directed me to the first kill. I sliced off the man’s arm; his muscles constricted as the severed appendage fell. The gun continued to fire, shooting two of the other soldiers as it hit the ground, and rebounding from the force of the recoil. I used the nearly blinding light to hack the rest of the soldier before me into pieces. I kicked over the table in the center of the room, hiding behind it as one of the men tried to fire at me through the darkness. I have to be quick, I thought, their eyes are going to adjust soon.

I kicked the table into the air and sliced it in half. As it came back down I jumped into the air and round-house kicked them into the wall across from me, sandwiching two of the soldiers. I sprinted towards them, and spun to the side, my swords extended. The men's heads fell to the floor as I dashed back across the room. I ran and slid onto the ground, kicking one of the man’s legs out from under him and swinging my sword diagonally through his torso as he fell. I felt a bullet deflect off of my metal arm. I laid flat on the ground; the soldiers may be adjusted to the darkness by now, but they still wouldn’t be able to easily make out my blackened form against the dark concrete. I tore a strand off of my scarf and tied it in a constrictor knot around the trigger of one of the rifles on the ground. Silently, I crawled along the ground, the rifle in my hand. From what I could tell, there was only one guard left. He was standing with his back to the corner, shooting impulsively at any sign of movement. I wedged the rifle under the one of the legs of the overturned table and moved away from it, holding the tightening end of the cloth. I got as far away from the rifle as possible and yanked on the cloth. The rifle fired.

The man snapped toward the rifle and began firing his gun wildly. At that same instant, I got to my feet and sprinted at him, sword-first, still holding the scarf and rifle, and impaled him against the wall. I stuck my sword further into his stomach and whispered in his ear.

“Bittersweet nightmares,” I said, then yanked my sword upwards, dividing the man into two. I folded up one of my swords and put it back into its sheath inside my arm. It would be ready to spring into my hand when I needed it again. My pistols were gone, and I didn’t have time to look for them. The alarm would most likely have been raised around the entire city by now, so I didn’t have much time to prepare. I untied the piece of my scarf and set it on the ground, and sliced the concrete with my sword, creating a spark. I repeated this until the spark managed to catch hold of the scarf and set it ablaze.

The scene before me, illuminated by flame, was one of pure carnage and gore. I couldn’t help but smirk a little. I took in the room. It was the exit to the courtyard of the prison. I checked all of the rifles for leftover ammunition. None of them had enough to make scavenging worth it, and I didn’t have time to combine clips. I took what I had; a shorted out robotic arm, a robotic leg, two swords, and a s**t ton of pent-up aggression, and prepared myself for whatever lurked behind the hydraulically locked doors. I pulled and pulled on the handles, but they wouldn’t budge. I guess frying the circuitry of the entire building wasn’t the best plan in the long-run. I sighed, leaning against the wall. I had to get back out now, or this whole plan was ruined. I wanted to show how even one guy can fight against something bigger than an entire nation. That doesn’t work so well if that guy gets locked in prison for a week. I ran over the route I had taken to get here: there were a couple of doors that the central security hub could have been behind, but nothing that I knew for certain. I also wasn’t in the mood to stumble into another room full of guards on high alert. The only safe option I had left was to rely on Alex. I tried to get a signal on the radio I had in my arm, but (as I expected) it was fried. I guess that was out too. I took a deep breath. I had no other choice. I clenched my fist so hard that my nails started to dig into my skin. Come on… I said to myself, Feel the blood pulsing… But nothing happened. I felt drained of energy suddenly, and I flopped onto the floor. I breathed hard, my breaths shaky. A guard chose this exact moment to come around the corner with a flashlight. He immediately saw me slumped on the floor. He pointed his rifle right at my head. A bitter scent filled my nostrils. Blood... A voice inside me said. I clenched my fist in the crimson liquid. The guard pulled his trigger. There was a scream of agonizing pain.

I held the guard’s throat in my hands, my now elongated nails buried into his jugular. Blood-red mist swirled around me, coating my body. In a few seconds, there was an explosion. The solid metal door was blown right off its hinges and out into the courtyard. The guard was vaporized instantly, and his soul turned into another link in the chain around my waist. I stood in the doorway, my black hood covering my head; the same bloody aura hiding my face. Before me stood a veritable army of Equinox guards. There had to be at least fifty of them, arranged in ten columns of five men, armed to the teeth. With snipers in the back two lines, assault rifles in the middle two, and men with riot gear making up the frontline, it was a promising sight. Two of my chains lashed out, ripping the riot shields away from two of the men and tossing them into the wall behind me. The shields became imbedded in the solid concrete wall.

“Open fire!” shouted one of the men, and the barrage began. I felt bullets rip through me, but I knew they wouldn’t do anything. I surged forward, a scythe appearing in my hand. With a single spin of Sanguinum Nocte, I cleaved through an entire column of men. Blood spurted unnaturally from their wounds, coating the ground where they stood. I slammed the scythe into the ground and the blood shot towards me, getting absorbed into the pentagram pendant.

“Who’s next?” I demanded in the characteristically deep, raspy voice of Ikai. The soldiers scattered into fire teams; a sniper and an assaulter in each, with a guard peppered in wherever they felt they were most needed. I smirked beneath my mist of anonymity. I thrust the scythe into the air and the ground spiked up beneath each of the guards, impaling them where they stood. As their comrades watched in horror as the limp bodies slid sickeningly slowly down the spikes, I turned and hurled Sanguinum towards one of the pairs. The scythe completely halved the assaulter before embedding itself in the head of the sniper. The sniper fell to his knees, held up by the butt of the scythe being jarred into the ground before him. I turned and dashed towards another assaulter, shoving my hand through his chest and pressing his heart into the stomach of the sniper behind him. With a growl of animalistic bloodlust, I ripped my hand back out and crushed the heart in my palm. Suddenly there was a new figure behind me. I turned, fist curled, ready to strike, but the instant before I made contact, the power of Ikai burned away, and I fell to my knees. I managed to extend my sword and prop myself up on it.

The man that now stood before me took my breathe away. He was… Completely freaky. His hair seemed to change color, and his clothes were so out of order that I didn’t know if he was homeless or rich. His eyes were closed, but his mouth was curled into a very oddly shaped smile.

“Who… Are you?” I managed to ask, exhausted of my strength.

“Shh…” said the man calmly. He assumed a position that seemed like a yoga pose. He reached his arms above his head and pressed his palms together. He leaned his hips out to one side, making his entire body curved. The guards, meanwhile, were starting to flee in terror. Whether it was from my recent rampage or the unsettling aura that this guy gave off, I don’t know.

“What are you doing?” I asked him, trying to sound tough as I gasped for air.

The man simply smiled happily and answered in a quiet tone “I am channeling the power…” He began, before lowering his tone to a whisper, “Of the banana…”