Lingering Despondence, Mounting Dread

The Cazadores de Craneos Cartel are some of the most feared drug runners and crime syndicates across the middle-american line, some say, others haven't heard the name before. Whatever someone would want to call them, they were soon to be extinct. Jiibae had been wandering across the entire United States until he found himself here, sifting through the slums and alleyways of the locale in search of men, wearing those signature skull motif gang-symbols, in order to exact his revenge. His footsteps were all but complete stomps on the ground, some sudden movements he had to take not to bump into others partially cracking the pavement under his intense strength. He was overwhelmed with anger, and hatred. Jiibae, or Nicholas under that persona, wanted everyone in that damn cartel dead.

Finally, he'd arrived at one of the oh so familiar sites he ran drugs with in his living days before trying to hide. He simply stood there, staring off at the small, abandoned motel. The chain link fence was still rather deprecated, the hooligans that used to roam about still here, watching in disbelief as a familiarly massive figure stood across from them, simply gazing without any purpose. His bandages held tight, and he could see clearly there were at least seven of them, all in their Cazadores apparel. If one's senses to the arcane were well enough attuned, that same one could likely tell that Jiibae was a revenant, a vengeful spirit given life by sheer force of will, and seething hatred alike.

All he could think about was cutting them all down, one by one, maybe even watching them try to crawl away after cutting their calves, just to stomp their heads flat like melons. Jiibae wanted to make examples out of them. Show them what fear was, and instill upon them karma of the most brutal fashion. The Cazadores were dregs, degenerates who had no place in this world as Jiibae saw it. There was no point in keeping them on this planet, to let them suck up the air that bright minded, and innocent people could be using. Jiibae didn't act yet, it was still sundown. He wanted to wait for midnight to roll around, to truly get the jump on them.

Siren was crouched on a rooftop overlooking the streets of Los Angelas. Their eyes scanned every which way, trying to find the huge source of negativity he had felt not long ago. Neither of those who made up the entity needed to be experts on feelings to know that just leaving such a mass of sorrow and regret alone was just asking for trouble.

"See anything, partner?" Aurora asked in the back of their head.

Alan shook his head, "Not yet....you gonna be ok, Aurora?"

"I'll be fine," She replied, though she sounded a tad out of breath, "It's just...I've lived a fairly long life and I've encountered my fair share of negativity...but this...this is on a whole other level...and what's worse, I can feel it getting stronger."

"Easy there, partner," Alan said in a comforting tone of voice, "We'll find...whatever it is. I promise." With that, the Siren took off across the rooftops and not long after, arrived in the area where a rundown hotel was standing.

"That's him..." Aurora whispered in their head as the two saw the bandaged figure. It was clear now that the majority of this negative energy was centered around whoever that was. Seeing the entity wasn't doing anything, Siren just perched on the roof, out of sight, and kept tabs on the creature for now.

Perhaps it was fate that drew the emotional sensor here, perhaps it was misguidance. Whatever it was, it was clear the bandaged fellow hadn't noticed them yet, but the looking of the thugs on the other side of the street drew the bandaged man's gaze upward. This presence, this... man? Woman? It was unclear to Jiibae, but it didn't matter now. Their presence spurred him into action.

The forward steps drowned out that dread and sorrow to raw, sheer rage. Perhaps they could see that machete, and feel the wicked power emanating from it. At once the thugs began shouting various Spanish insults and commands for him to stop. It didn't stop the bandaged man from swinging his leg out, the gate practically netting around his foot as the single blow tore the entire thing down. Such inhuman strength was startling enough for the men to begin opening fire. The small arms tore through his body with hardly any hindrance to the being. Once the gunfire was clearly through, the machete wielding zombie kept pressing on. The men began running, fear becoming just a mere flicker among the absolute maddeningly powerful hatred. Through all of this...

That undead spoke not a single word, not even after his body was torn up from the bullets that had riveted his physical form. Grey flesh splattered across the concrete signifying his undeath. If the rooftop-bound hero had any inclination to help this creature, or the criminals within the abandoned facility, perhaps now would be the time to intervene.

Aurora and Alan had no words to describe the brutality of the rampage unfolding before them. The creature fought with the ferocity of a wild animal, not caring who or what got in its way. Now, one could argue it was a tad hypocritical to be judgmental in this situation considering their own history of brutal treatment of criminals...however, the two that made up Siren were not blind enough to think all crimes were equal, and were capable of showing restraint.

"What do you think we should do, partner?" Aurora asked in their shared head.

"I...I don't know.." Alan remarked as they looked down at the slaughter, "This seems like one of those situations in that no matter whom we help, it's gonna end up being the wrong thing to do..." The former human took a moment to ponder what to do before an idea came to him, "Ok...I know what we gotta do...but I'm not gonna like it one bit..."

The Siren descended from the roof and soared towards where he/she could land in front of the creature, "Wait!!" They put up their hands, "Stop...please...you don't know me, you got no reason to trust me...but I can tell you are angry, vengeful even...but you need to control yourself, ok?" With that, they reached out with their mind towards the creature, in the hopes of helping it better control its anger and fury, no matter the cost.

As that psychic landed in front of him, Jiibae let off a sigh of the discontented variety. The few thugs that were still in the area watched in awe as the brave soul threw themselves in front of the unstoppable force like that. It was like high noon, a wild west standoff, except a LOT closer. The inner reaching into his mind might be far more dangerous than what Siren might be anticipating. As soon as they opened that flood gate, searing thoughts of rage, malice, agony, dread, anything that one could attribute to negativity were at once thrown at their brain, an assault of stinging pain and hatred. It was unlike any that they may have encountered yet. To that degree, they might also gain a serious migraine from trying to empathize with his feelings.

To their request to stop, Jiibae simply moved around them, walking with those determined steps to end these thugs. To him? There was no redeeming them. The Cartel had to die, and if he had to fight among ranks of heroes to get to them, so be it. That machete gleamed with occult energies. A brave soul would leap to him, in an attempt to end this madness with a pipe in hand. The metal hit home, but didn't even flinch the behemoth as he reached a hand to the scrawny young adult's neck. Lifting the Cazadores thug, Jiibae simply drew back his weapon, and thrust it deep into his sternum. From there, he swung upward, and from the young man's abdomen, he was bisected. Dropping him like the useless trash he was, Jiibae turned his attention to the others, making a forward advance with the intent to do to them what he did to the aspiring criminal.

Siren recoiled in shock and pain after being hit with what lied in the depths of the creature's mind. Such fear, hate and despair that it would overwhelm most people in an instant...though Alan and Aurora had both been through their own trying times and perhaps that helped keep them somewhat sane, though the sensations still hurt like no tomorrow.

They held their head as they fell to their knees, gnarling their teeth as they tried to fight through the pain, "Alan?..ALAN! Please tell me you're still there!!" Aurora ordered as she tried to fight off her share of the agony.

"I'm here...man, I hate using telepathy sometimes..." Alan groaned as the Siren finally opened one eye...and automatically wished they hadn't as they got a good look at the undead's handiwork as it tore through one of the men with its machete like a hot knife through butter. The horror was almost unspeakable, and the Siren knew that regardless of what these men had done, that creature was in no place to pass judgment.

"Alright...you won't listen to reason...maybe you'll listen to THIS?!!" With that, the Siren stood up and screamed, letting loose a powerful sonic scream from her lung that packed the force to destroy solid concrete in the creature's direction.