Dante's Abyss 2022 - Finale
Face to Fate/Zero
#03 Deadpool, #07 Anders Nazrat, #18 Demetri, #21 Rogue, # 23 John Connor, #30 Gilgamesh
Face to Fate/Zero
#03 Deadpool, #07 Anders Nazrat, #18 Demetri, #21 Rogue, # 23 John Connor, #30 Gilgamesh
“We can’t stay here,” Demetri replied as Deadpool remained latched onto his waist. “Either the mouse or Gilgamesh will find us if we don’t take the fight to them.”
“Oh you poor, sweet fool,” Deadpool cooed as he rubbed Demetri’s chin. “We just need to wait it out until they both get destroyed by the rest of the competition. This is how this works. Trust me.”
“You know that almost everyone else is dead, right?”
Deadpool frowned, but before he could continue the conversation with Demetri, the pair both heard the chugga-chugga of death incarnate bearing down in their general direction.
“We have to GO!”
Before Deadpool and Demetri could hop out of the dumpster and dash to escape the train, their hiding place was hosited up off the ground by a woman with gilded hair and sweat-stained muscles.
“How y’all doin’?” Rogue replied as the man hopped over the sides of the dumpster. “Here I reckoned y’all both wanted to go for this ride?” She added with a weary smile as she took a step forward and proceeded to hurdle the dumpster at the oncoming train car.
There was a horrifying screech as Mickey slammed on the breaks and bailed from the locomotive just as the metal- and sandstone- container went crashing through the front car. The mouse landed gracefully as his ride tilted sideways and crashed its way through a couple more buildings before losing its momentum.
“Sons of bitches are gonna catch these hyuckin’ hands,” Mickey growled as he turned just in time to see Rogue as she drilled her fist into the side of his face.
Spiraling through the air like the child-sized projectile he embodied, the mouse managed to shake out that initial shock and catch himself before he transitioned into a literal tumbleweed. Face already swelling below his right eye, Mickey frowned as Rogue came rocketing across the sidewalk, her gilded body uprooting the sandstone surfaces beneath her. When the brawler swung, she found her strike met with the shaft of the keyblade, which failed to yield despite the woman’s awesome strength.
“Well gosh … how’s it feel to know you ain’t shit?” Mickey giggled as he sent Rogue stumbling backwards with a shove of his keyblade. A quick swat of the unorthodox weapon drove the belle of the ball (or, at least, the last surviving belle of the ball) to the ground. “How’s it feel to know you might just need a little more than magic?”
With mounting frustration, she flipped up onto her feet and dug deep into the very real rage that burned through her otherwise ravaged body.
“Aww, gee,” Mickey commented as he hopped gracefully onto a nearby streetlight as a bolt of ki crashed into the sidewalk and missed him by a healthy margin. “It’s fun to try and do the impossible, innit?” The little warrior cartwheeled back to the ground as a second retaliatory blast sheered the post out of existence. “Hot dog! You’re an angry one,” he tittered as he swatted away a third bolt of energy with his weapon and promptly broke into a sprint toward Rogue.
The woman tensed and swung only to scowl as the mouse dropped into a slide between her legs. Holding the keyblade out like a pole, he tripped the woman with an unease that didn’t belong in such a tiny frame.
Collapsing painfully onto her knees, Rogue grimaced for just a split-second at the ground before lifting her head up just in time to see the Proto Buster’s charged barrel staring her dead in the face.
“Buh-bye,” Mickey tittered as he leashed the burst into Rogue’s scowling visage. By the time the woman came to a rest two blocks away, she had lost both her transformed state and her consciousness. “Now then… that leaves,” the mouse tapped an oversized, gloved finger to his chin as he moved in a slow circle. “Where are ya, Wade?” Mickey asked. “I know you’re out there schemin’, uh-huh!”
A rush of footsteps pulled the mouse toward the approaching mercenary, and a lethal discharge of plasma energy scattered the illusion of Deadpool into a number of gory pieces.
“Tricks, huh?” Mickey laughed as he narrowed his oversized eyes and scanned his surroundings. “I’d hate to find a little trickster.”
Sweat beading at his temples, Demetri ushered in a second Deadpool from a nearby window as the real one crept in from an adjacent alley. The mercenary seemed to be overly careful, and the one-lunged thief didn’t know how much longer he could maintain this charade. From his left, he saw another Deadpool jog up and wave to the Mouse.
“He’s over here, Not Jacob”
“Hiya, Wade,” Mickey declared as he jogged by the conjured man and hopped off his oversized feet to give him a low five as he passed him. The Deadpool then made direct eye contact with Demetri, flipped him the bird, and promptly exploded into a puff of orange dust.
Eyes wide, Demetri tried to incorporate some additional elements into the illusions, but it was too little, too late.
Mickey lifted the Proto Buster and fired.
The thief flinched as he dove to escape the burst of plasma. His mouth already filled with blood from a body that still miraculously failed to stop, Demetri literally crawled back up to his feet with the assistance of a nearby streetlight. He glanced around for a sign of Deadpool, but instead, he felt a momentary pressure in the small of his back just before the keyblade tore through his chest.
Eyes dropping to the gore-stained ‘point’ of the weapon jutting out from his previously ravaged sternum, the thief shook his head. “You couldn’t have been a few inches to the left?” He asked through the blood pooling in the back of his throat.
“Next time,” Mickey whispered softly as Demetri fell to his feet in front of the rodent monarch. “Know you’re place and just kill yourself.”
Demetri grimaced. “Chill,” he groaned as he collapsed forward and into oblivion.
Mickey Mouse scowled as he hopped onto the dead man’s back and grabbed onto the handle of his keyblade. “Only thing chill here is your corpse, uh-huh!” He tittered as he yanked back on his weapon, which seemed to be stuck among the tangle of shattered ribs and ruptured blood vessels.
The mouse grit his teeth, and as he yanked his trademark weapon free from the confines of the slain fool, a carefully positioned Deadpool skirted up from behind him and buried his gladius down into the soft space between Mickey’s shoulder blades.
Grip immediately gone, the mouse spun around and opened his mouth as a curse formed on his lips.
Deadpool wagged a finger as he reached down and calmly wrenched his sword back up through the tiny horror’s anatomy. “I know you’re not the real thing, but I hope you know that I’ll still touch myself to this later.”
Before he had hit the ground, Mickey Mouse had erupted into a rapidly dissipating cloud of orange dust, leaving a sullen Deadpool staring at Demetri’s corpse.
”Un-lifed by some type of conjured mirage… how tragic,” With that, Deadpool made rapid strides to return himself to the side of whoever wasn’t dead yet.
#18 Demetri DEAD
5 Contestants Remain
5 Contestants Remain