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Laughter echoes around the realm. Sounding both in his head and distant. Bouncing off the walls, or lack thereof. The arena was Elliot’s pizzeria. The outdoors and open air should prevent that laughter from bouncing, and yet it doesn’t. Almost like it’s all in his head.
Taph carefully sneaks around. Paying attention to his own footsteps even more so than usual. Making his already quiet footsteps nearly imperceivable for the naked ear. The only time he’d be proud of this fact.
The place was quiet. No abnormal sounds besides that persistent laughing. The quiet flicker of flames came from the remaining and broken parts of the pizzeria. Not as energetic nor alive as Dusekkar’s flame.
They’ve never actually visited Elliot’s place of work. But has tasted his work. The office would often order from Builder Brother’s, or the company would just give the admins some pizza. Something about them being “related.” They’ve heard it’s because both the twins that own the franchise coincidentally share the same last name as Builderman. They both do have “Builder” in their names.
He never indulged in the meals provided. He was mainly out on the field. But when he did have them, it was cold. Still tasty, but would definitely be better warm. Even eating them here, it tastes different than when it was in the office. Like it was missing an important ingredient.
A chill ran up Taph’s spine, wings puffing out slightly. A pair of eyes are looking at him. And the only one who could be looking is…
The Last Man Standing theme is playing.
Shoot.
Taph breaks into a sprint. A glitchy mess of laughter is right behind him. He can’t be another failure. Not after Chance’s LMS last round. He can’t die in under 5 seconds. He has to prove his worth. Worthy of being a part of this team. Someone who works with Builderman, not for him.
He has to live.
The sound of a freight train steadily grows louder behind him. He has to keep going. Taph closes his eyes while continuing to run in a straight line. His wings flap in hopes to give him some additional advantage, it doesn’t, at least not here. He needs to live.
The elevation increases suddenly, causing Taph to stumble. His eyes open to see that he’s running up the stairs of the broken house he is entering. He nearly trips as the stairs are way too thin for his feet. He only has two options for escape. Down the broken wall to the left of him with the slope of debris from the home, or the broken wall to the right with a drop.
The chill against his back grows worse. So much so, that he can’t help but pause his momentum to shiver. Oh… Oh no…
They feel someone grip onto the back of their robes. “S-S-Some-w-won messsssed up-p-p!” A glitchy and otherworldly voice laughs into his ears. It picks them up, lifting them off the ground. Taph flails his legs, hoping in vain that the killer will let them loose. His back wings fluttering and flicking around, attempting to hit the hand grabbing him. Fate, as always, was against them.
The killer rotates them around. That half rotting and half purple body now taking up his whole vision. Noli. The myth turned real. Taph never believed he would be real. And yet, here he was. In the flesh, or… well… half way. Just about to slam him into the floor, as always.
Noli pushed and moved Taph like he was a stuffed toy. Like they weighed nothing to him. Taph could do nothing against the mythological being. But they tried anyway, holding onto the hand that still stretched to their back.
The ancient being laughed, cackled at the trembling demolitionist in his hands. “L-Like I I I wou-ld l-eT my litTLE pr-eyyy g0.” Noli then pulled Taph backwards, towards the exploiter himself. Before throwing the bomber against the only unbroken wall in the house. Creating an indent where the demolitionist impacted the surface.
Their back erupted in pain. But, worst of all, was his back wings. They heard the ligaments snap. Now two useless limbs hanging loose behind them. Just the slightest touch, movement, or twitch will cause pain.
Taph could feel gravity start to pull him downwards, only for it to not have any hold on him anymore. A pressure was applied to his chest, keeping him suspended and against the wall. He hesitantly opens his eyes.
“Wher-rrrr-re’s the fun-un-un-un in play-ing f-fair?” A distinctly Mexican voice comes from beside their ear. Despite the feminine tone, it’s clear who it was. Taph can’t help it when his breathing starts to pick up.
Noli moves closer, nearly pressing his body against theirs. The Voidstar glows from the other side of the ancient being. “You-ou should s-st-ayyYYy AW-away f-frommmm the others, my littlE pl4yth1NG. And t-to tEACH you wh-i…” A flash of purple turns the corner, walking up the ramp. Another comes from the stairs. More filters into the room. Soon, there were 6 Noli’s, all surrounding Taph. “I br-aught sommmmmme…“ he trails off. His hands remain on Taph’s chest, drumming his fingers over it. From the pointer to the pinky, all in progressional order. “Rein-F0RCE-m3nts.”
Two of the other Nolis approached Taph. They started to struggle, trying to push the original Noli away from them. But the two approaching them prevent any retaliation. Grabbing hold of his arms and pinning them to his sides.
Another Noli approaches, digging into their pockets. He eventually pulls out their tripwire, after the third try. The myth separates the stakes into both of his hands, pulling at them to test the strength of it. They always make sure that their tools are top quality and ready. Taph takes offence to the actions presented.
That same Noli looks up with a smug expression. Taph doesn’t like it. They attempt to struggle once more, but it barely does anything against the three actively holding him in place. The last two Nolis join. Restraining the last of their movements. Taph still attempts to wiggle, move, do anything to fight back. But nothing works.
The Noli with his tripwire starts to spin it around Taph. The other 5 Nolis make sure he isn’t able to move, at least not much. The wire starts to dig into their skin through his layers. Progressively making it hard to fight back. His limbs get restricted further. He can’t move without pain rushing through him. His broken wings flare up from every little movement, especially against the thread.
Noli finishes tying the rope behind him. Cementing him to their whims. He can’t move. He can’t move. He can’t move.
Taph’s breathing worsens, eyes tearing up. A wet cough makes it through his mask. He doesn’t want this. He wants it to stop. This is worse than killing him.
“It’s no-0-O fun with th-Is in the w-w-wayyyy.” One of the Noli’s speaks. Taph isn’t sure which one. They don’t even know which one is the real one anymore. But they feel their mask lower. No. No please!
“Just wh-at I want-t-T.” Noli speaks again, the voice resonating through Taph’s head. His sobs only grow louder. The collar of his robes are pulled, aggravating the wires that bond him. His wings flaring up in pain. Bringing forth another pained sob.
Something presses against his lips. Something rotten. Something smooth. Taph can barely make out anything but purple from his blurry eyes. He can’t breathe.
His body is pressed up against another. His head pulled closer to the person in front of him. Pulling him into the kiss. Another hand is messing with his feathers that are a part of his head wings, attempting to sooth him. It doesn’t work. The other’s tongue infiltrated his mouth. Twisting around his own. Pushing deep into his mouth. He can’t breathe.
Another body presses up against his back, causing pain to his wings again. Arms wrap around him, hand against his chest. They circle and prod. They feel his body underneath his robes. He can’t breathe.
Two pairs of hands feel each of his arms. Feeling them. Squeezing them. Making his muscles tense. He feels weak. He can’t breathe.
Another pair of hands wrap around his stomach from behind. The pressure against his back is heavier, like someone else is pressing forward. His wings scream out in pain once more. They hug his stomach. He can’t breathe.
The one kissing him finally relents. A string of saliva breaking free from between them. Taph takes a deep breath. The air gets caught in their throat, causing them to gag and cough. The one in front of them keeps rubbing the back of their head and chin. They want out. They don’t want to be here.
Clapping could be heard from a little ways away. Taph tries his best to see through the many tears blurring his vision. Yet another Noli. But is it the real one? He’s lost track. Which one’s an illusion and which one’s real?
The answer comes soon enough. All the figures around them disperse in a glitchy mess. Leaving Taph to flail in the air as he falls to the floor. The thin rope burning into his skin once more.
“It s-ee-Ems like our T-ime is uPPP. I l-ook for-waRd to our NeXt mEting.” The last remaining Noli — the real Noli — mutters from the sidelines. Fake sadness flowing through that smug smile he has on his face.
He moves closer to the demolitionist on the ground. Kneeling down to get closer to their level. “I’ll b-🐝-EE moniTORinG…” Their grin turns sharp as the final notes of Last Man Standing play throughout the map.
The next moment, Taph finds himself sitting upright at the wooden table in the main cabin. Freed from the bindings implanted on him not even a minute prior.
Taph can feel themselves shaking. Pulling their knees up to their chest, rocking back and forth on the chair. They hug their legs. The only touch they are comfortable with. The only person they are comfortable with.
They didn’t want that. They feel dirty. They feel unclean. They will never be clean again. Why? Why didn’t they get killed? Why must they endure that? Why-
A hand is placed on his shoulder.
A hand is on him.
SOMEONE. IS. TOUCHING. HIM.
Taph reacts. They jump away from the direction of the hand. Fumbling with their vibrating hands, they pull out a Subspace Tripmine as fast as possible. Priming it and throwing it as quickly as he could.
The explosive device detonates not even a second later. No time to prime itself. They know they messed up with preparing it, but they are running off of adrenaline and a lack of thoughts.
He runs.
He runs as fast as he can. Pushing people out of his way. He runs.
He goes to the one place he knows. One place he is safe. Where he isn’t cornered. Where he isn’t near.
They stop. Hugging themselves as tightly as they can. They stare out at the still and unmoving waters before them. Their only comfort in this place.
Their body convulses as they attempt to lower themselves to the floor. Only to fail spectacularly, landing on their behind with a loud bang. Which only causes them to flinch and shake more. They need to be quiet. They must be quiet.
They continue staring. Remaining on high alert as they hug their knees close. Head lowered to their knees. Hand pulling at their hood and head wings. Why? Oh Telamon why? Why them? Why them?
Footsteps.
Sturdy. Cautious. Confident undertones.
Taph pulls himself closer as they approach. Taph doesn’t look. He continues staring forward.
The person next to them moves to sit down. Legs dangling off the dock’s planks. Gray jacket and orange hard hat.
In their peripherals, they see him move slightly towards them. They flinch harshly. He can tell a hand is hovering over his back. He can tell. He can tell. He can tell.
The hand returns. Their shaking lessons. Still present, but less than before.
They remain in place. Quiet. Still.
The engineer keeps his hand in the middle of them. An invitation. A quiet understanding.
Taph keeps himself close. But can’t help but let himself loosen very slightly. His right hand shifted slightly towards the person next to him. Not enough to come loose, but enough to be noticed when looking for the adjustment.
They remain there. Silent. A quiet apprehension between them.
Taph wished he was killed instead.