Calling of the Monsters

It had been two days since the massacre. The bodies were just now getting cold, resting in the ground after having been buried to Charon's instructions. Typhon was at its lowest point now, having one of its famous areas being attacked so openly. Charon hadn't taken Mammon seriously, and now his men had paid the price for it. The dead outnumbered the wounded that day, and it was a blow Typhon would need time to recover from. Charon hadn't woken up from his unconscious state since then either. Some of his men contacted one of their doctors who they paid on the side to tend wounds that they couldn't explain at hospitals. He had set Charon up in his apartment and patched him up, attaching tubes to the leader's body to make sure that he stayed alive and received his nourishment.

Mason had volunteered to watch over Charon first. The two had been friends for some time, Mute had introduced them and Charon had always taken a liking to Mason, deciding early on that a man with a love of explosions would have a firm place in any organization he created. Mason did as he was told, and Charon always rewarded him. It wasn't much of a friendship, but in this world it was one of the better ones you could hope for.

A knock interrupted Mason's thoughts. He picked up his revolver and made his way to the door. Looking through the peephole, he relaxed as he saw a familiar face. He opened the door to greet the new guest. "Sam, didn't think you could make it around town after the state you were in...what are you doing here?" Mason asked as he allowed The Crimson Scar inside, shutting the door behind him.

Sam seemed much worse for wear than the last time he had seen Mason; he had several new scars on his body, including one particularly large one on his right wrist he had sustained during the battle, and an acid burn on his left forearm. His left arm was in a sling, still healing from the dislocated shoulder. He had large, dark circles under his eyes, but he still seemed alert and hostile. "Taking the next watch." He answered curtly, his voice sounding dry. "Get out of here, get some rest. I can take care of him from here."

Mason just looked at Sam, amazed that the guy could still even walk after the beating he had taken. Mason felt guilty. He wasn't much of a physical fighter, so he had opted out of going to the fight ring despite Charon's invitation. Perhaps he could have changed the tide of the battle, or perhaps Mason would have just ended up getting buried with everyone else.

"Sam come on man, you look like shit...what are you doing here, I can handle this"

Sam locked eyes with Mason, his red eyes alight with fire and hostility. "Mason. I am Charon's second in command. With him in this comatose state, it is my duty to act as leader in his stead. Likewise, it is your job to listen to me when I give you a direct order. Of course, I'm not going to pull rank here. Because I don't really feel like I need to." He took a few steps toward Mason, letting his weight drop which each step, letting out a loud thud with each step. "You want me to leave? Make me. Go on. You said it yourself, I look like shit. Take a swing, go ahead and take a potshot at me if you want, you know I can eat bullets. Just know that I'm gonna swing back." He leaned in closer, his battered face an inch from Mason's. "And if you don't think you can take me, then what makes you think you can defend him better than I could?" He sneered.
Sam's voice had no bluff in it, mainly because he wasn't bluffing at all. He was willing to throw Mason out of here with his good arm if need be; he wasn't going to let a second leader die when he was acting as their right hand. He wasn't going to lose two families in half a year without a fight. If anything wanted to get at Charon, it was going to have to get through him, and even in this battered state, he was still a brick wall.

Mason tended to not like people with powers. They were an unfair advantage as he'd like to say. Mason bought his weapons or stole them like everyone else in the East District. People like Sam and Charon though, nothing Mason could ever do would put them on their level. He could train and work everyday and he'd never be as strong as Sam was, even in his weaker physical state. Mason couldn't help but take a step back as Sam imposed himself, making it clear that he would make Mason leave through intimidation if necessary.

Mason didn't say anything as he just stared at Sam, not knowing what to say. In the end he just shook his head before turning and walking to the door. "I lost friends in that room too ya know" he said quietly before opening the door. "I'm going to go get some food, then I'll stay out here in the hallway. IF anyone's coming, you'll hear them before they get in the room" Mason said before shutting the door and leaving down the elevator.

Sam's eyes followed Mason as he left the room. He bit his tongue when Mason said he had lost friends in that room, too. Sam wasn't contesting that point; all he was contesting was that Mason wouldn't so much as slow someone down if Mammon sent someone like Corry to finish Charon off. He sat down in a chair next to Charon's bed; it was an eerie feeling. The last time he had been in a similar position was when he was tending to his mother. He shook his head; he couldn't think about her right now. He had to stay focused on the task at hand; ensuring Charon's safety, and, if need be, preparing a counter attack. Charon was out of the fight for the forseeable future, meaning Sam was going to be acting as the leader of Typhon. He had been the right hand man to Father and Charon, two leaders who were well known in East Diamond. If need be, he was going to show that he had learned well from these two men, and that Typhon was more than able to push back any threat. People feared Sam, partially for his power, partially for his superiors; now, he was off the leash. Possibly. Hopefully not. But possibly.
Sam forced his eyes back open; he hadn't realized he had started to doze off. He shook his head. "Focus, Guivine, focus." He chastised himself. But he found it hard to stay awake. Mason's outside, anyways. He thought to himself, resigning himself to the idea of rest. I'll hear a gunshot should the worst happen. Besides, I can't put up a fight if I fall over from exhaustion in the middle of it... Sam closed his eyes, and let himself fall into the darkness of sleep.

Sam would be running, though he wouldn't remember how he even got there or why he was running. All he knew was that it was dark, and whatever was following him was moving in for the kill. It was dark where he was, with trees and other foliage surrounding him and making his retreat even more difficult.

As Sam took a look backwards, he saw strange hound-like creatures moving in the darkness. Two were on the left of the path, two on the right. They were moving at equal speed with Sam, not losing nor gaining ground on him as they went. They barked viciously, drool falling from their mouths as their fangs held a gnarled appearance.

You let your family die. You let your family die. You let your family die.

Voices rang in Sam's head as he continued his retreat, the ill intent of the hounds continuing their hunt of Sam.

Sweat dripped down Sam's face. What the hell...? What's going on? Where am I? His thoughts came not in a stream, but a jumbled, tangled mess, like too many people trying to push through a door at once. I let them die? No, I fought! I fought! He snapped at the voices in his mind. "I fucking fought, you hear me?! I couldn't get to Father in time! I killed as many of those bastards as I could, there was nothing more I could've done!" He yelled to no one in particular. He turned back to the hounds; he wasn't sure why he was running from them. He was powerful, more powerful than any mutt could. Even with four of them, he'd be able to fight them. But he couldn't stop running. He couldn't. He had to run. Why? He didn't know. But he had to escape them.

The hounds continued their pursuit, showing no sign of losing interest in a potential hunt, nor any signs of tiring or slowing down. They would chase Sam for as long as they could it would seem. As Sam kept running, he'd finally break away from the rest of the trees and the dark forest. He'd be running through a clearing now, only a few seconds ahead of the wolves as they continued after him. As Sam ran forward, he'd see a large tree in the middle of the clearing. It was tall and well built, perfect for climbing. The hounds looked fast and strong, but they weren't built for climbing. Perhaps it would be a way to escape...

Tell that to the dead! Tell that to those who you've lost! Where was your courage when it mattered? What good has your power ever done!?

Sam stopped dead in his tracks at the base of the tree. "What good has this power done? Look back two days ago..." He snarled. He turned and faced the wolves, his stomach churning with terror, but he held his ground. "I killed two of Mammon's best, which translates to dozens of lives saved. I fought as hard as I could to save the Red Diamonds. I failed. But I didn't fail to save Typhon. Throw the EDM at Typhon now. I'll make them kneel." He hissed. He wasn't sure who was trying to convince, what he was trying to justify. But he wasn't going to run anymore. He didn't need to.

The wolves began to circle their prey, their eyes beginning to glow a familiar shade of dark red, though Sam wouldn't be able to place it in this dream-like state he was in. What he could focus on was the battle at hand. The wolves were circling him, dividing their attention between them. At the same time, two of the wolves charged forward to bite and tear at Sam's flesh. One moved to bite his front leg, while the other moved to leap on Sam's back and bite anything it could get a hold of.

Sam quickly stepped to the side to avoid the first wolf, ducking his body low as he did to duck beneath the second. He took an extra step to the side, something he didn't try to do; he tried to move back in to swing at one of the aggressor wolves, but found he couldn't; he was unable to attack or fight these things. All he could do was run... Why? What the hell was this? What was going on?

A low laugh started to come from the wolves. Weak, always weak. Even with all your power you can't even protect yourself. Pathetic, worthless, unworthy of your gifts! The wolves moved in their familiar circles again, starting to drool as they became hungry.

"Don't listen to them" a voice came from near the tree. Sam wouldn't see anyone, nor would the voice be familiar to him. Yet, there was something comforting about it. "Use your power, your anger...use everything you've ever obtained. Destroy these things" the voice commanded. Sam would suddenly realize he could fight, just as one of the wolves charged forward, aiming to bite the Crimson Scar's ankle to hold him in place.

The wolf successfully sank its teeth into Sam's ankle, but Sam was strong, impossibly so; he was more than capable of lifting a car with one hand as though it weighed little more than a gallon of milk. He spun around with a powerful kick, the beast still stuck to his ankle as he spun at immense speed. Regardless of how powerful the beast was, it was coming off due to the sheer amount of force. It flew off, ragdolling and tumbling towards one of the other wolves. Sam took up his fighting stance, looking from one wolf to the next, invigorated by his ability to fight again. "Come on then!" He cried to them. "COME ON! Prove to me that I'm weak, PROVE IT!"

Sam definitely kicked the wolf off, though he might not have foreseen what that would mean for the bite. The beast was kicked off, but with his teeth still sunk in to Sam's legs he ripped off a good amount of flesh with him. The wolf was slow to get up, but as it did it gnawed on the flesh that it removed from Sam before swallowing it. A low laugh seemed to come from the wolf as it did this, an effort to taunt Sam.

The other wolves started to join in on the laugh, each of their eyes starting to glow a more orange color than red. They circled Sam once again before all charging simultaneously, minus the one wolf that Sam just kicked off. They all moved to leap on his front, looking to tear open his chest and take whatever they could from him. They were aiming to kill and Sam was their next target.

"You are not alone" the newer voice spoke aloud for Sam to hear. "Call for aid, and there are those loyal to you that will come"

Sam lunged forwards as the wolves pounced, going to roll beneath the wolves as the went airborne. He rolled behind them, landing on his bad ankle. He winced in pain. What the hell is going on here? He thought to himself. "A-alright, fine! Come on, gimme a hand!" He called into the darkness, unsure of what he was expecting.

Just as the wolves moved forward to attack Sam from his injured state, a large creaking sound was heard behind him. The wolves stopped and looked past Sam, their eyes reverting to normal as they seemed afraid of whatever was happening.

The tree behind Sam was moving, shaking and rustling its branches and trees from where it had been before. The tree was moving, taking the shape of a large humanoid before looking over. It reached forward and picked Sam up with one hand, holding him tightly before swinging its large hands to smash and crush the wolves with its strength. With two wolves dead, the others retreated immediately.

The large tree being turned its gaze upon Sam now, the red eyes glowing as it stared right at Sam. "Well well, The Crimson Scar, so this is what you really look like" the monster spoke as it stared down at him. "I must say that you weren't what I was expecting, not much of a fight you put up against those things either. Nerves?"

Sam stared dumbfounded at the talking tree thing that was holding him in the air. He blinked, unsure of whether to be grateful or terrified. "M-more confusion than anything, really." He said the creature. "I-I... I'm sorry, but I was told those who were truly loyal to me would come to help, and normally I know those who are loyal to me as I-I'm loyal to them too. I think I'd remember... Well, you." Sam was visibly shaken and fearful of this colossal creature. He hoped he had chosen his words carefully enough so as not to provoke it to turn that strength against him while he was helpless in its grasp.

The monster was quiet for a moment before a loud laugh emerged from within, very guttural and seemingly full of life. "You don't recognize me? I'm a little offended Crimson Scar, I remember you very well. I've helped you in your most recent of conflicts. You've never seen me, but I've been with you for a long time, as I am with many others" the creature said as it turned to look at the forest.

"Perhaps...it would be easier to show you" the monster said as it began to walk to the woods. Its grip on Sam was strong, though not enough to harm or do any damage. Sam was just going along for the ride it seemed. "The feelings you have here, you've felt them before" the monster explained as it moved forward. When Sam had been running through the forest everything seemed thick and in the way. As the monster moved forward the very trees themselves seemed to just move out of the way for him. He was taking Sam somewhere, though he couldn't see the destination yet.

Sam adjusted himself in the monster's grasp. "That's a, uh... A bit cryptic, y'know..." He said, watching as the trees shifted out of the monster's path. "A-and frankly, really not helpful. If you want me to recognize you, perhaps you could give me a name? I feel a bit at a disadvantage with you knowing who I am and me not knowing you..."
Of course, he also felt at a disadvantage being dwarfed by this thing's raw size, and it being able to lift him like a child's toy, but he wasn't going to bring that up. He figured it would be smart to try and be civil with the monster as it seemed friendly enough. Perhaps not "friendly", but at least it lacked hostility towards him.

The monster finally stopped before looking down at Sam. His eyes looked curious before he released another strong laugh. "So eager to learn are we? Very well, but you wouldn't believe me if I told you...I still must show you" the monster said as his eyes widened and turned that familiar shade of red.

Sam would feel it immediately as a familiar sensation of fear and anxiety started to claw at the inside of his brain and soul. It seemed stronger than usual though, perhaps just amplified in this dream state. The monster waited a good ten seconds before his eyes returned to normal. The monster just watched Sam as if looking for some kind of reaction from The Crimson Scar.

"You know this power, I know you do Crimson Scar. I am not your friend, but I have been with him for a very long time...you as well"

Sam narrowed his eyes at the monster curiously. "Wait... Are you... Charon's powers?" He asked. "That doesn't make any sense... Powers aren't... Sentient." He looked back across the forest. "And where the hell is this, anyways? What's going on here?"

The monster laughed once again. "You live in a world where you use your own blood as a weapon, and yet you still wonder what it and isn't possible? How amusing" the monster remarked before moving once again. "We're in your mind Sam, all of this is an illusion. Yet in our dreams we can find a semblance of truth from the world around us. That is what I'm here to show you, I'm here to show you his truth" the monster said.

They finally moved to the edge of the forest. There was a lone house there, two cars in front of it and lights on. "I need you to see the truth that Charon has been hiding from for so long. Only if you understand can you hope to help him through this time" the monster said before setting Sam down on the ground. "Go...go and understand that which he has never told anyone"

Sam looked back and forth from the monster to the house. He was curious as to why it was showing him, but he wasn't about to question... Whatever it was. He shook his head and said, "Alright, big guy. Seems a bit strange, but if it means getting the boss back on his feet, I'll do whatever it takes." He walked up to the house and put his hand on the doorknob, slowly twisting it open.

The door opened with ease. Sam was able to move in to the house. A woman was walking through the hallway, but she didn't seem to pay any attention to Sam as if he wasn't there. Apparently Sam couldn't really interact with what he was seeing here. The woman was lovely and reminded Sam of his own mother before her passing. She was in the kitchen, making some food with a young boy at her side.

The lad had short black hair, a warm smile and soft green eyes as he stayed by his mother the whole time. He asked questions, laughed with her, hugged her, and did all the other things a child always did. The mother just smiled down every time he spoke. "Neal, you're doing such a good job being mama's helper" she'd say.

Sam would just start to recognize the boy when she heard a voice behind him. "Sam?" a familiar voice said. On a set of stairs behind him sat Charon, who had been watching the scene up until Sam arrived. "How are...what are you doing here? You shouldn't be here" Charon remarked.