You Will Remember Me For Centuries

[ItzToxie]

(( A dead man continued after dying))

Marcus drug himself forwards. Left foot. Right foot. This wasn’t happening. Of all the times for this island to be fucking peaceful, it had to be when he needed someone to fight. Everyone always waiting to get the drop on him, now what? The eyes that watch him know he’s done, they don’t wanna fuck with him now, it’s not worth it. Cowards. Weaklings.

They’ll wait. They’ll wait until he’s wasted away into nothing, then they’ll come. They’ll come and they’ll laugh. Marco expelled his guts on the ground, partially at that thought, and partially at the blood pool consistently refilling in his innards. He wiped his mouth and stared straight ahead, moving forward, pushing on. He’d find someone. He had to. Even if he had a contingency plan, he had to do this. Ending any other way would be unthinkable.

As he continued on, he fell to his knees. He didn’t feel pain anymore so much as a permanent nausea, the world spinning for him as little dots danced in his vision. He wondered if this was it. If he was just gonna sit here and wait until Adonis came. He wondered if he’d be claimed by the backup plan.

No.

No he wasn’t giving up yet. No fucking way was he gonna waste away. He peeled himself off the dirt as he heard footsteps coming. Not yet, Adonis.

You’re not gonna finish me off just yet.

Marco stumbled forward aimlessly. Another group of footsteps behind him. They weren’t Adonis’. As soon as he picked up on that, the mysterious stranger broke off into a run towards him. Marco turned around and tossed his fire extinguisher, bouncing it off her face with a glorious crack. The stranger fell to the floor, flailing and howling like a burning cat as Marco made his way towards her. He didn’t recognize her, blonde hair and pink shirt. Didn’t need to. She didn’t matter until he saw what she was holding.

A rock.

Marco wheezed out a cackle. “Bitch?! You thought a rock would kill me?” Marco crushed her throat with his heel, picking up his extinguisher. “Don’t you know who the fuck I am?” I’m the juggernaut, bitch. “Marcus fucking Volker. Can’t kill me with no fucking rock-“ Marco turned around. “Where the fuck did you come fr-“ Erika shot Marco through the head, his corpse dropping next to the one he made.

Marco puked again. That’d be a shitty way to die. Probably one of the shittiest ways-

Marco hissed as he grasped at the stake that pinned his hand to the tree. He tried pulling it out, but the blood was too slick. If he were stronger, if he wasn’t so fatigued he could do it. He turned his head back to the culprit. She didn’t look so scared anymore. Didn’t surprise Marco, Quinn had a type. She liked them helpless. A minute ago she wasn’t having fun. Two minutes ago her face wasn’t nearly as fucked up as it was now. She smiled even though she had no right to. Marco laughed. “Don’t you fucking look at me like that. I was the first. I’m dying and I was the first to hurt you.”

Quinn picked up his fire extinguisher. “Imagine when they win. Ten of your victims, and they ain’t even a fraction of me. I ain’t even a tenth of what I was, if I wasn’t dying, you wouldn’t stand a chance!” She stopped and let him speak. “Shoulda... shoulda seen the look on your face.” Marco laughed.

“You talk too much.”

Marco would have laughed her out of the room if she didn’t interrupt by lodging the hose of the extinguisher down his throat and sprayed. He reached his free arm out to throttle her as she grabbed it and held him in place. With what little remains of his strength waning, he could do nothing but choke and watch as his abdomen swelled, ruined organs stretching and tearing within him. As his body ruptured, his last thoughts were of his accomplishments turning to dust as he became just another trophy for some sadist’s body count.

Marco wiped his mouth as he stood up. This shit was getting old already. He took a step forward.

Making his way back to the cliffs he saw them. The ones who started this whole thing. Marco smiled as he snuck his way up to them, about to ambush them like they did with him. Marco opened fire with the extinguisher, spraying them both to stun them, before swinging into Willow first, smashing it against her head as she dropped like a sack of bricks. He turned to Sierra next, knocking HIS rifle out of her arms before smashing her in the face with the fire extinguisher.

When she hit the ground, Marco grinned ear to ear as it was time to repay her for the pain she caused. He slammed the extinguisher down on her face, again and again, relishing the moment as he caved Sierra’s skull in. Suddenly, the rifle slipped away from between his feet.

Marco turned around just in time to see Willow, forehead bloody, holding his rifle, pointing it at him before she pulled the trigger, ripping him apart before a stray round clipped his collar, blowing his head right off.

Marco sat up on his knees. What was the point of all of this? It was too late for him to get anything out of it. What’s the point of an epiphany if he wasn’t gonna live to learn anything from it. As he tried to stand, his body froze in place. Marco couldn’t move, or speak. He heard footsteps behind him as his body lost control. He felt his heart race as the chainsaw screeched to life behind him. Marco wanted nothing more but to shout, or plead, or move. Not yet. It wasn’t his time. He leaned his neck out, against his wishes, and let Adonis take his head...

Marco couldn’t take it. He had to move to find someone. He had to fight. Marco stood up then dropped dead, unconsciously choking on his own blood.

Marco blinked. “Okay, seriously. Fuck thi-“ the mysterious stranger popped out of a bush and clubbed him with the rock.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Marco was fed up with this shit. He was fed up with all these visions, each more insulting than the last. He wasn’t a statistic, he wasn’t a victim, and he certainly wasn’t dying without doing some fucking damage.

Marco puked up on to the ground. He grabbed his vest and threw it off of him, before reaching up to the collar of his t-shirt. He pulled down and ripped it away as if it was suffocating the life out of him, screaming in freedom as he tore it off. He grabbed the wound that Wyatt caused and squeezed, the agony unlike anything he ever felt, as he squeezed and screamed and stood.

The pain kept him going. As long as he’s existed it was the only thing there for him. Marco punched at the wound, screaming again. Savagery, pain and raw animalistic rage pulsed through his veins as he screamed, again and again.

He was dying but he was still alive. He was still alive and he never felt more alive. He was alive to fulfill his purpose, and as long as he drew breath he would continue to fulfill that purpose. He turned to the camera and smiled. “I’m the motherfucking Patron Saint of Chaos and Carnage. Today Ima bout to show y’all how to live forever. Standby.” Marco picked up the extinguisher and went on his way with a purpose.

Any time he’d falter, he just punched his hip. If he had to puke, he puked and moved. He didn’t stop anymore. He had his mind set now. One way or another he’d cause an impact on the way out. He’d be remembered. A modern day Beowulf, inflicting damage and destruction wherever he went. He’d exist as on as a mythical being. He’d be the stuff of legends, except he’d be real. He’d be immortalized in history and people will have the name Volker in their minds for ages to come.

As he moved his way up the path he saw a building. Inside the building he saw his quarry through the windows. He recognized them, and they will do. As he moved his way forward, he turned around. He didn’t see Adonis but he knew he was there, watching. Marco gave the tree line a thumbs up. He’d found the promised land.

He turned back around.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages; grab your sodas and your popped corn, the main event is about to begin.”

Marco picked up the pace as he moved towards the building. He punched his side in anticipation as he grunted and grinned. He began to pick up speed.

He felt his heart begin to race as it was all coming together now.

The grand finale.

The big finish.

His lips curled and he smiled brightly. He wanted to say it, to scream it from the top of his lungs. Today was the day that Marcus Volker would die, but before that could happen, he had to live, and live he would. Marcus Volker would ride eternal.

Shiny and Chrome.

“WITNESS!” He shouted, as he flung himself through the window of the infirmary, as the sounds of shattered glass mingled with the shouts from within.

((Marco Volker concluded in Our Mutual Fiend.))