Dark Deceptions

A Tale of Two Mercenaries

Starting off the month right y'all. Thanks for reading and thank you all who voted in my poll!

(The info is for later on down the line, not for this chapter btw)

Anyways, some gore, not too bad tho.)
_________________________________________

Erik sat on the roof of the building, smoking yet again. He breathed in a deep breath and let the scales take over both arms, the muscles tightening as fur started to sprout on the non-armored black parts.

Erik examined his arms before attacking a large crate in front of him, easily slicing it to pieces with his claws without getting stabbed with splinters.

A sound of a door opening was heard and Erik dove into the shadows, melting inside them in a similar fashion to the squids in Splatoon. Erik had completely forgotten the consequences but couldn't risk being caught.

Striker walked out and held a whistle in his left hand like a cigarette, Erik slowly poked his head out where he was sure to not be seen and carefully watched Striker play with the whistle before jamming it back into one of the many pockets on his vest and walk back inside the apartment and close the roof door with a loud slam.

Erik quickly submerged himself back into the shadows and waited until Striker left before jumping out. His chest, no, his entire body was in horrible agonizing pain and he felt weighed down tremendously to the point where he could barely even stand.

Erik grit his teeth and tried to breathe even though his lungs were on fire to say the least. His exhales sounded more like growls as he desperately tried to breathe. He finally collapsed to the ground and laid down on his side.

Eventually he passed out. He slowly awoke to pure white, his blurred vision started to slowly clear revealing that he was in the hospital... yet again...

Another thing he noted was the lack of a shirt, most likely to place the heart monitors, or do CPR, who the fuck knows, Erik wasn't the best at Biology, or school in general.

Erik took a good look at the many scars on his chest out of boredom, recalling the events that caused him. He also noticed bandages circling his lower chest.

His idle thoughts were interrupted by somebody intruding on him. Striker. It was obvious by the heavy footsteps and the somewhat slouched shadow shillouete on the wall.

Erik shuddered, remembering what had happened to him on the roof before pushing it aside. Striker had crossed the divider and was now in front of Erik with a KFC bucket for whatever reason. The two stared at each other before Striker spoke first.

"Still keeping the tradition of getting sliced the fuck up like a little bitch, I see."

"Fuck you mean sliced up?"

"Your back. You were found half dead on the roof with these strange cuts on your back, all perfectly down your spine."

"Well... That's something..."

"Is that all you can say!? What the fuck did those things, Erik!?"

"I have no fucking clue. Just remembered having breathing problems and collapsing before passing the fuck out."

"Please, at least try to stay alive so we can tag and bag that sorcerer."

"I'll try..."

"You better, espically concerning your history with horrible wounds."

"You going to at least give me some fried chicken?"

"Fuck off and get your own"

"Fuck you too. I'm going to sleep."