Glancing back to confirm that the zombie he'd been fighting wasn't in sight, Donny leaped up into the nearest tree, his lack of Tidal Swim doing nothing to slow his ascension.
"And those bastards…teased me…for learning…parkour," Donny huffed in frustration as he balanced on a branch, leaning against the tree trunk while he caught his breath. "But… my rage against them… will be fucking nothing… compared to what I'll do to Cross… if he knew about this ELEVEN-TIMES-DAMNED—!"
"SO! Hiding up in a tree, eh?! Thinkin' it's all safe and sound? LEMME SHOW YA SOMETHIN'!"
"Ohfuckme," Donny groaned breathlessly, his expression turning bland at the steady thumps vibrating up the trunk of the tree. Several seconds later, the vibrating stopped, and he deadpanned, "Timber" as his perch slowly tipped forward.
The dugong barely reacted as the tree crashed to the ground, unceremoniously dumping the amphibian onto the unforgiving ground. Snorting, he flipped himself onto his tail to face the grinning, axe-crazy zombie, staff at the ready.
"As you can see!" Bill laughed heartily as he leaned on his axe. "You must be veeeeery careful when you're on the battlefield, because ya never know when a random lumberjack might decide to wander along and decide 'ta break into a musical number straight outta MONTY PYTHON!"
Donny's eye twitched furiously as he tried and failed to parse that statement. "Who the hell is—!?"
"BUUUUURP!"
"—WAGH!?"
The dugong let out a yelp of terror as he hastily dove to the side to avoid a gout of flame that charbroiled the space he'd been occupying a second ago.
"Urp! Oh, excuse me!" Bill coughed as he smacked his fist against his chest, lit up by the flames peeking out from under his ribcage. "Shouldn't have eaten that West Blue cuisine before fighting! Spicy buggers, it feels like my insides are on fire!"
"THEY ARE ON FIRE, YOU CRAZY SON OF A BITCH!" Donny howled, his patience ground down to almost nothing.
Bill glanced down at himself, blinking in apparent surprise at the flames burning in his midsection. "Huh. Wouldja look at that, so they are. Well, you know what they say! CONSTANT VIGI—!"
"Rip Tide!" Donny snarled out, slamming his tail into the ground and launching himself at the incendiary revenant.
"Ah, jogging!" Bill sniffed primly, his only reaction to his opponent's disappearance being to step back and stick his foot out. "A noble pursuit! But ya always gotta be on the lookout for roots!" Donny, locked in his blur of speed, didn't notice his target's relocation until he hit his intended destination, by which point it was too late, and Donny was sent sprawling tail over teakettle. "They're sneaky buggers, AIN'T THEY!? Never see them until you're SNAPPED UP LIKE A SNAPPER AT A SEA KING BAR MITZ—ah, whoops!" Bill lifted his leg and blinked at the blatant absence of a foot at the end of his leg. "Weeeell, looks like I'm the one on the backstep now! HAH HAH HAH HAH—!"
"Oh, will you give it a rest already?!"
"—GWAH!?" Fire Zombie Bill yelped in shock when he was suddenly face-to-face with close to fifty pounds of pissed-off dugong swinging his very large and very heavy stick at his head. It took all the speed the General Zombie had to snap his axe up and keep up with the Dugong, fending off blow after blow from the student.
"Let me tell you something, you literal flaming idiot!" Donny snarled in the revenant's face, his adrenaline allowing him to forge through the heat the living pyre was giving off. "You are the most infuriating, reckless, whacked-out nutjob I have ever had the sheer displeasure of fighting, and that is damn well saying something!"
"I'm sorry to hear that, sonny boy!" Bill replied, voice dripping with insincerity. "In fact, that—!"
Donny's staff jamming into his throat tragically cut that line short. "I said," the dugong bit out, shoving the General Zombie onto his back. "Give. It. A rest. Because on top of all that stuff I just said?!" The dugong leapt into the air, his staff raised above his head and ready to strike his foe down once and for all via the salt paste on the weapon's tip. "YOU'RE NOT FUNNY!"
"Not… funny…?" Bill parroted as his opponent came down from the sky, sounding bewildered. "Not… funny…"
All at once, a change came over the zombie. Stiff tension drained away, and the underbite grin fell away into a light, flat smile. Languidly standing, his hand shot out, grabbing Donny's staff before he could react.
"What the—GRK!"
And in one fluid motion, the other hand lashed out, flaming fingers searing Donny's flesh as he bodily rammed into the nearest tree.
"Bitch," Fire Zombie Bill's mouth drawled, darkness and murder oozing from every decibel. "I am hilarious." The zombie's arm then swung out to the side and flung Donny halfway through another tree.
Taking a minute to shake off the pain and dizziness, the dugong groggily pulled himself up. One look at the advancing Bill, his head held low, and axe dragging in the ground as he slowly stumped his way towards Donny was all he needed.
"Nope!" he declared. "Rip Tide!"
Blurring from existence, he reappeared behind a nearby tree. Poking his head around the trunk, he saw Bill paused several feet away, glancing about.
"Okay…" he sighed in relief. "Right. How am I gonna beat this guy? This super strong… super crazy zombie… with a fire axe…" Groaning, he slumped onto his flippers. "Oh, this is gonna suck. Why couldn't Leo be here? Or hell, Raphey, or even Mikey! They'd be all over this shit!"
"Well, you're right about that."
Only Donny's prone position saved him from the axe biting into his snout. Instead, it sprayed splinters everywhere on its way to cleaving straight through the tree he'd been hiding behind. Slowly, the dugong glanced up at the grinning, flame-wreathed face of the axe-wielding devil himself.
"You don't strike me as the type to enjoy something like this," Bill drawled, raising the axe.
"Shell Body!" Donny hastily yelped, crossing his flippers. And none too soon, the axe screaming down to slam into the iron-hard guard.
Sadly, 'mere' iron turned out to be inadequate to the task. Axe and body collided with a loud clang, the head biting slightly into his flippers. Donny flinched from the trench rent into his limbs, and Bill didn't give him time to counter. Instead, he raised the axe, dugong still attached, and slammed them both into the nearest tree.
"Argh!" Donny yelped, both from the pain of his collision with the tree and the axe head biting an even deeper crevice in his flippers. "Son of a—! Back! Off!"
"Sure." And just like that, a boot planted itself in Donny's sternum and wrenched the axe from his flippers, leaving Donny to slump to the roots, cradling the rent flesh of his arms.
"Argh..." Donny groaned, glancing up in confusion. "Wha-? W-Why did you—?"
"Weeeell, you see..." 'Bill' replied, swinging his axe up and balancing it behind his neck. "The thing is, at the moment, I'm... a bit at a loss, really. I don't usually have to… ad-lib this much, usually have time to plan my routine..." The zombie's manic grin widened as he took a step towards the prone dugong. "So! What I need you to do... is run."
Donny blinked. "Run?"
"Yes!" Bill swung his axe out and pointed it into the woods. "Run. Flee. Abscond. Whatever verb you want to use, I don't particularly care. Just… do both yourself and me a favour, would you? Be creative about it..." He swung his weapon down so that the blade was hovering right in the middle of Donny's face, madness glinting in his rotted eyes. "Or else."
Donny stared at the zombie with bald-faced shock. He was… giving him a chance to run? Why would—?
The sudden appearance of the zombie after he'd fled the first time popped up in his brain. Right, because he could do that, and it looked like he was seriously sadistic. Still, Donny wasn't about to look for more time to live in the mouth, however furtive. But how to be creative…?
"What would everyone else do?" he muttered under his breath, inwardly grateful that Bill seemed inclined to wait for the moment. Though the way he was running his finger over his axe's blade did not exactly inspire what one would consider 'confidence'.
Unbidden, an image of Leo popped into his head, blades drawn and a determined look in his eyes. "Well, if it were me, I'd just chop him up, easy-peasy!"
'…yeah, save that I have neither the tools nor the skills to actually do that, you sword-con.'
An image of Boss popped into his head, chest puffed out, and his cigar pointed straight at him. "I'd hit him hard enough to knock his head off his neck!"
'If I could do that, I'd have done it already!'
Boss faded away, to be replaced by Raphey, who was sporting a wide smile and giving him a thumbs-up. "I'd use you as bait and run!"
Donny's expression actually fell flat at that. 'Gee, thanks.'
"Heh, no prob… heeeey wait a minute, I'm a representation of how you view the real me… YOU JACKASS, YOU REALLY THINK I'M THAT MUCH OF A BITCH!? WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, I'M GONNA—!"
Donny hastily derailed that train of thought in favour of conjuring Mikey into his mind's eye, smiling as though he'd just come up with the best prank of all time. And the idea he proposed was…
Donny blinked in surprise. Of all the things he'd been expecting, it sure as hell wasn't an idea that was… honestly not that terrible.
"SCREW YOU, ASSHOLE!"
Jerking out of his thoughts, Donny snapped his attention up, took a swift survey of his opponent and identified the one point on Bill's body that wasn't on fire: his (presumably) fireproof helmet.
"As Mikey always says, if it's stupid and it works," the intellectual amphibian muttered, moving his tail into position. "Then it's not stupid. Rip Tide!"
Bill sighed as the dugong zipped away. "Spoilsport. Fun while it lasted, though. Ah well, plenty of other intruders to—" He paused, his eyes narrowing as he saw Donny throw his staff into the ground and then land on it, the wood bending alarmingly. "Hmm."
What bends back must return, and so the staff snapped forward, hurling Donny at Bill, the latter of whom raised his axe to block. Instead of getting chopped in half, though, the dugong managed a graceful flip in midair and landed on Bill's helmet.
"RIP TIDE!"
And then kicked off again, soaring off into the forest while simultaneously sending Bill for a loop, which in this case meant twisting his skull around a full 180 degrees.
Bill, for his part, was left stumbling around as he tried to sync his newly disjointed perspective with his body. Or rather, his body stumbled around while his head tried to direct it appropriately.
"No, no, left. Left, you ignoramus! Just reach up and twist me to the left! Nonono, my left! Mmrph, this is why I'm the brains of this operation…"
Far away (but not too far), Donny leaned against a tree, a silly grin on his face. "That worked… I can't believe that worked!" The grin promptly died painfully when he realized he was missing something. "...except that I left my staff behind, damn it, Mikey! Ergh..." He kneaded the bridge of his nose miserably. "Great, just great, that's gonna make this even harder…"
'This' being beating Bill. Not an easy task, even with his staff. The only plan he could think of was drawing the axe-crazy zombie to someone who could actually beat him…
Slow clapping sounded out through the clearing. "Well! I gotta admit, that was creative. Props!"
Buuuut it looked like he wouldn't have time for that. Gulping, Donny angled his head back to stare at Bill as he loomed over him, preemptively preparing his Shell Body.
"So," the zombie stated, tapping his fingers on the handle of his axe. "Wanna see a magic trick?"
For a brief moment, Donny pondered saying 'no', but one look at the crazed zombie's grin killed that idea stone dead. "Uh... sure?"
A coin flashed into Bill's free hand, an odd silver piece with one side marred by a jagged 'X'. "Got this from an old friend," the zombie informed him, twirling the coin between his bony fingers. "Now, I'm going to make this coin… disappear." And just like that, the coin vanished.
Worse, Donny couldn't tell where it'd gone, and he was pretty good at spotting sleight-of-hand tricks. Then Bill reached for him, and the tension ratcheted up another order of magnitude. He stayed still, eyes on the axe, as his opponent grasped something at the back of his head…
WHAM!
And then Bill pulled Donny's head into his knee.
"GAGH!" Donny wheezed in agony as he reeled back, the pain centred around the chunk of metal he could feel lodged square between his eyes.
"There we go…" Bill drawled as Donny stumbled back, his mind spinning as he tried to grasp at the coin lodged in his freaking skull. "That'll do. Let's mop this up so that I can have some time to plan out a real schtick! But for now?" The blazing revenant's grin widened as he raised his axe above his head. "It's time to cut and run!"
"Grgh... Shell... Body..." Donny mumbled out dizzily.
The axe came down and bounced off of Donny's skull, the sheer recoil actually wrenching the zombie's arm out of its socket.
The dugong's eyes refocused, and he smirked victoriously at the disarmed zombie. "Steel Hermit variant."
Bill blinked stupidly, taking in both his lack of a limb and Donny's still intact skull, and as he did so, a change came over the flaming revenant. In an instant, he stood upright again, the light in his eyes changed, and he let his jaw jut out to an almost comical level.
"Yeah, that's always a problem!" Bill—the original, comical Bill—stated casually. "Y'go out to chop some wood, you raise your axe, ya miss, and hit your foot!" He paused, thinking. "Or a rock, which knocks your arm off. That could happen, too. Ah, well!" He raised his remaining hand in order to shoot Donny a two-fingered salute. "Be right back with my arm and more helpful tips for how to survive a warzone! Hang tight!" And with that, the blazing zombie loped off into the underbrush after his limb.
Donny blinked as he processed the turn of events. 'OK, so the good news is that the... I'm guessing Shadow is back in control, meaning I'm no longer dealing with a sadistic psychopath who wants me dead. Instead, I'm dealing with a lunatic who acts like a sadistic psychopath whose antics are going to kill me, unless the original mind takes over first and splits my freaking skull in two! WHAT THE HELL DO I DO—!?' Donny hastily rapped his 'knuckles' against his head. 'Alright, alright, alright, no more freaking out... just... just think, just think. Just think of how the hell I'm supposed to outsmart... that...'
Almost as soon as the train of thought ran through Donny's mind, he slowly turned his head to observe the flicker of flames that indicated Bill's return.
'Dumbass,' Donny finished, heaving a defeated sigh. 'Well… if Mikey's way worked once, may as well try it again.'
"GEEZE!" the dugong exclaimed at the top of his lungs and with more cured pork than he'd ever risk letting into his voice with Luffy around, just as a newly whole Bill emerged from the underbrush. "This fight is really wearing on!" He ghosted his hand over his shell, ensuring that he garnered Bill's undivided attention. "I'd better have a snack to keep up my energy!"
Moving fast, Donny reached into his shell, pulled something out, and as soon as his hand was halfway to his mouth, Bill all but blurred over to him and snatched the object out of his flipper.
"Mid-battle snack, huh!?" the zombie barked, looking over the riceball he was holding. "Innocent doodad, ain't it? A nice and yummy treat to get yer spirits up! LEMME SHOW YA SOMETHING!"
Without further ado, Bill tossed the snack in the air and swallowed it in a single gulp.
"Mm, tasty!" Bill crowed, rubbing his belly. "What was in it?"
"Ooooh, you know, the usual." Donny crossed his fins behind his head as he ever-so-innocently swayed back and forth on his tail. "Rice, a bit of seaweed, some salmon…" A malevolent glint lit up the dugong's eye. "And salt."
The Fire Zombie froze up mid-rub, his eyes shooting wide in shocked realization. "UH-OH!"
BOOM!
"GAH!" Donny leapt back in shock and terror when the zombie's cranium suddenly exploded in a geyser of umbral essence. "What the hell!? Damn it, even in double-death, that bastard just cannot do anything even remotely normal, can he!? Urgh…" The dugong glanced down at the chunks of… being that were sprayed over his shell. "This is gonna take forever to wash out…"
"Hey, he took down Bill!"
"Oh, come on…" Donny groaned, turning to the crowd of zombies that had just walked out of the underbrush with a somewhat rusty stance for unarmed combat. "Alright, bring it on, you—!"
The zombies surged forward. Donny tensed, ready for combat, and then blinked in surprise as the zombies surged around him, instead going for Bill. Drawing axes, swords, and other sharp instruments, they descended on his body, hacking and bludgeoning and just ravaging the body until it was little more than a stain on the ground. The dugong could only stare throughout the process.
"Soooo…" Donny drew out at last. "I'm guessing he always acted like that?"
"Yes," one of the zombies spat. "Hopefully, this will make sure he never comes back again... though..." He hung his head with a despondent sob. "I'm really not counting on it. Not after the killer dolphin."
"Or the rabid coyote pack!"
"Or that extreme chilli con carne contest!"
"Riiiiight…" Donny muttered, a hefty drop of sweat hanging from his skull, "And... what about me?"
"Meh, we don't care," another zombie grunted dismissively. "You're all screwed no matter what we do to you, so we couldn't care less. For now, we're gonna break into the alcohol stores and celebrate that we've finally gotten ourselves a reprieve! See ya!"
Donny briefly toyed with the thought of pointing out how logically alcohol wouldn't do much to long-necrotized gray matter, but he reconsidered in light of the fact that, to reiterate, he was speaking to individuals with necrotized gray matter in the first place. After all, at the moment, he had far bigger fish to fry.
"Starting with where the hell did I leave my staff…" Donny muttered, scratching the back of his skull.
-o-
Boss sighed as he gazed into the fog shrouding Thriller Bark. "Y'know," he mused conversationally. "When I came out into these seas, I expected two things: that I'd grow stronger, and that I'd get a lot of great fights. I've sure as heck gotten the first, can't complain about that, but the second…"
Idly hopping back, he watched as a multi-armed zombie wearing a cracked and triple-eyed mask dove past him, claws swishing through empty air.
"Case in point, there's you," Boss continued reassuringly, waving his cigar at the zombie. "I mean, you're not bad. Those extra limbs are an interesting gambit, after all, and you don't see arm blades like that often. And heck, compared to those fishmen in Mock Town, or that zipper guy, you're pretty good." He absentmindedly patted a trio of thin red lines in his side. "Hell, you hit me! Not many people can do that, y'know! Now, c'mon." He chomped down on his cigar and pounded his fists together eagerly. "No more playing around! I want to fight you for real!"
Despite the mask, Boss had the distinct feeling that his opponent was trying to incinerate him with his glare.
Boss blinked in surprise as the beri finally dropped. "You... actually were fighting for real, weren't you?" He dropped his head into a bow. "My sincerest condolences."
"WHY THE HELL ARE YOU PITYING ME!?" the zombie roared, jumping straight for him, blades raised.
Boss's entire demeanour shifted, a vicious glint shining in his eye. "Because you deserve it." And with that, he swayed under the strike, swung his hook about the zombie, and then Rip Tided away, dragging his opponent along for the ride. Upon coming to a halt, Boss gave his rope dart an extra firm yank, accelerating the General Zombie's airspeed to the maximum.
"Squall Pistol," Boss smirked sadistically as he reared his 'finger' back. "Water Spout Shot!"
The self-identified Jorogumo's flight ended with him getting all but impaled on Boss's finger. He only remained in place for a moment, though, as the second Boss's brawn overpowered his momentum, the zombie was sent careening back into the nearest tree… and then through it to slam into the one behind it… and then onto the one behind that one. Needless to say, beyond a few scant twitches and spasms, it couldn't have moved even if it wanted to.
Boss observed his opponent's downed form for a few moments before scratching the back of his skull with a defeated sigh. "So disappointing," he groaned. Then he blinked as a dozen gun barrels were shoved in his face. "...well, this is certainly one way to make a guy feel special." He glanced around at his newest set of opponents, but stopped and grinned when his gaze happened to go upward. "Too bad, I won't be your dance partner at the moment. Shell Body."
The zombies blinked, their confusion lasting just long enough for a black sphere to land between them—
BLAM!
—and detonate, sending solid rock salt scything every which way. Every zombie surrounding Boss was simultaneously shredded and unshadowed, and those who were further away got no reprieve as several hundred pounds of frustrated cyborg slammed into them like a certain prototype train engine.
"Grrragh, I'm starting to get SUPER pissed here!" Franky growled in aggravation as he mowed down line after line of zombies. "This is like the Bridge of Hesitation all over again! Except those bastards had the decency to stay down once you hit them enough!" The statement was backed up by how, for every zombie Franky knocked down, two got up, almost twice as pissed as before.
"No kidding—Typhoon Lash!" Boss barked, the razor wind kneecapping several zombies. That still didn't stop them, as the cadavers just swapped to crawling. "Gah, the one time I find a doggedly persistent opponent, and they're just annoying. Hey, you're taller than me. Any clue how the rest of the fight's going?"
Absently backhanding a zombie trying to sneak up on him, Franky flicked up his sunglasses and looked around. On the one hand, Lola's crew was trying desperately not to get overrun by the zombies, exhaustion and a steady depletion of salt badly hampering their efforts. Hell, even Merry, previously occupied with treating the many wounded, had waded into the fight, using one of the bigger zombies as a club. On the other hand, the rest of the Straw Hats were steadily grinding their way through the horde, though even there, the image of the Bridge of Hesitation continued to assert itself. Vivi was huddled behind Nami's Eisen Cloud, clutching her ribs with a visible wince, and even Zoro's meatgrinder impression was fast losing momentum.
"Not good," the cyborg grunted, spinning the nunchaku again to clear some space. "Lola's crew is barely hanging on, and Zoro's group will probably stop advancing soon. Hell, the only reason we haven't been completely buried in bodies is—!"
"BAROOOOO!"
"GUM-GUM STAMP GATLING!"
"Yeah, that."
The 'that' in question was Funkfreed in full elephant mode, rampaging through the crowd of zombies, lashing out with nose, leg, and razor-sharp tusk. The elephant was putting on a particularly good showing, most notably through profligate usage of his latest technique—
"PACHY-RIOT!"
It used the Jet and Water Dials that had been installed in the elephant-sword's hilt to blast a stream of high-pressure water out of the Zoan-weapon's nose. Unfortunately, the water wasn't salt-infused because the combination made Funkfreed nauseous, but even unsalted, the blasts of liquid were sowing immense disarray amongst the zombies' ranks. Honestly, between Funkfreed's mass and the SWAT-levels of liquid being utilized, Luffy riding on the elephant's back and stamping any zombies he could reach almost seemed like overkill.
…though, since no matter what the Straw Hats and their allies did, there always seemed to be more of the bastards waiting in the wings, 'overkill' was a completely foreign concept for the situation.
"Dammit, when am I gonna get a good one-on-one match?" Boss groused, lassoing a half-dozen zombies and swinging them out to bowl over a cluster of the undead. "I'm tired of fighting sardines, and the Generals are just trout in comparison! That zipper bastard was decent, but not nearly enough to give me a proper challenge, and besides, that was a month ago!"
"Is this really the time? Weapons Left!" Franky snapped, explosives scorching another pack of zombies to well done.
For a moment, Boss didn't respond as he decapitated the walking dead. "Sorry," he eventually replied with a sigh. "Not the time, I know, I'm just a bit… frustrated is all. I feel like a hamster on a wheel. It doesn't matter how hard I try, I just don't get anywhere."
Franky paused for a second before returning to his bashing with a sigh. "Yeah, well, unless something changes fast, we're stuck on a wheel with-GAH!" The cyborg was cut off by a zombie popping out of the soil and clamping onto his leg. "Agh, dammit, get off!" he shouted, comically hopping on one foot as he tried to dislodge the stubborn corpse's death grip.
Boss, sighing explosively, moved in front of Franky to cover him. He only had time to get off one Typhoon Lash before an entirely separate vacuum wave flew by and decapitated several foes, followed swiftly by four bodies landing in front of him.
"Let's try this again!" Leo declared, pointing a sabre skyward. "HELP! HAS ARRIVED!"
Boss blinked in surprise at the development before swiftly scanning over his students. He took in Leo's borrowed blades, his battered face, and bruised neck. He took in Mikey's own bruises, mixed with shiny burns. He took in the crudely bandaged, bleeding wound in Raphey's side, and her sai, dented to hell and back. And finally, he took in Donny, his flippers bleeding, his face one big bruise, and his staff nowhere in sight. Not to mention how all four tails were quivering with sore, exhausted muscles.
Once he was finished taking stock, Boss stood to attention and puffed his chest out firmly. "Boys!" he called out, feeling a twinge of gratification at just how fast the apprentice martial artists snapped to attention. "You all look like shit. Go get patched up by Merry before you all keel over! Especially you, Raphaela. Don't think I don't notice that sucking wound in your side."
"Rip Tide!" all four dugongs yelped, blurring out of existence.
"Ahhh," Boss sighed, allowing himself to sag in relief. "Exerting control over the younger generation, is there no better stress relief?" He then perked up with newfound energy. "Welp—!"
Before he could return to the fight, though, a commotion from the distant mansion caught his attention. He glanced over, and his jaw hit the dirt, and his eyes tried to throw themselves out of his head.
And from the way all sounds of combat had just ceased, he wasn't the only one.
-o-
"No. 4 on the list of things I've always wanted to say!" I proclaimed as I stood atop my mount's skull, arms crossed defiantly. "The cavalry has arrived!"
It was immensely gratifying to me to see the entire legion of the dead, the unfeeling immortal army that my crewmates had been fighting, freeze with more horror than they inflicted when they caught sight of me. Or, far more likely, they froze on account of my rather atypical mount. Of course, my crewmates' identical reactions were equally gratifying and far more amusing.
Anyway, I could have urged my mount forward and mowed the enemy down then and there, but hell, where would have been the fun in that? As such, I took the better option.
"ZOMBIES OF THRILLER BARK!" I announced, flinging my arms out wide.
Which is to say, I grandstanded like a champ.
"Allow me to take this opportunity to clear up two misconceptions that you might have! Misconception the first!" I held up a finger for all to see. "You all might think that I am currently riding atop an undead cybernetic Tyrannosaurus Rex! This is categorically false!"
I widened my grin as I raised one of my feet from the skull of the long-dead titan lizard I was riding. "The truth is that I am riding atop an undead cybernetic Tyrannosaurus Rex…"
I rammed my heel into the small of my mount's skull.
"SKREEEEEOOOOOOONK!"
And it promptly reared back and let loose both an iconic roar straight out of Spielberg's films—and a flesh-searingly intense gout of flames.
"That breathes fire!" I cackled malevolently, Soundbite joining me in howling like the suicidally crazy morons that we were.
Honestly, there really was no other course of action after fusing Hogback's cutting-edge technology, Chopper's explosives, the necrotized tissue that had clearly been harvested from Little Garden, and a few million volts. Really, now. If not like that, then how the actual fuck were we supposed to react when we were charging into battle on the back of a zombified, cyborg, Tyrannosaurus Rex, the likes of which would make Harry Dresden eat his heart out...that also breathed fire?!
I have to say, I was very proud of just how brightly Luffy's eyes were lit.
But still, before I could properly assault the enemy with our game-changer, I really did need to set the mood.
"Misconception the second!" I bellowed out with Soundbite's aid, regathering the zombie's attention to my second raised finger. "Some of you might be optimistic in light of the fact that you are mostly beyond the bounds of mortality! I intend to correct you all from this grievous error in judgment by asking that you consider this one simple question!"
I ground my heel into my ride's skull, prompting it to lower its head and glare at the zombies as it rumbled out a growl, both its organic yellow and mechanical red eyes glowing with pure malice as oil and saliva dripped from its fangs.
"Just how 'deathless'," I leered tauntingly. "Do you really think you are?"
Slowly, ever so slowly, the zombies looked away from the monstrosity before them, and at each other. In two seconds, they exchanged looks. And one second later, they promptly fled for the nearest nonexistent haven.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," I smirked victoriously before raising my fingers and letting loose a resonating SNAP! "CHARGE!"
"SKREEEEEOOOOOOONK!"
And so, as I rode my undead fire-breathing cyborg T. rex into battle against a zombie horde, I did the one thing I could do.
...honestly, do I even need to spell it out at this point?
"PFFHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!"/ "HAHAHAheeheeheeHOOHOOHOOHAAAA!"
Didn't think so.
-o-
Vivi gaped at the scene through a gap in Nami's Eisen cloud.
Cross. Riding a T. rex. A zombie cyborg T. rex. That breathed fire.
Honestly, the fact that Conis, Usopp, Robin, and Chopper were using their own specific methods to take down zombies from behind the heels of said T. rex barely even registered.
It was a miracle that anything could have caught the princess's attention at that time, but something most certainly did: a clinking sound caught her, that of glass against stone. Unimportant in the grand scheme of things, but it was there. Curiosity piqued, Vivi glanced down to see a glass bottle rolling her way, some sort of liquid sloshing back and forth in it. Leaning down, she picked it up, popped off the cap, and gave it a sniff. The scent of organ-killing grades of alcohol assaulted her nostrils, and before she knew it, Vivi was the one to knock a drink back.
Only for a set of deceptively strong fingers to deftly pluck the bottle away.
"You are not developing a habit," Nami flatly stated as she scrutinized the booze.
Spluttering for words, Vivi finally just swung her hands towards Cross' rampage. "He is riding a zombie cyborg T. rex!" she protested weakly.
"That breathes fire."
"CRAM IT, ZORO!" Vivi spared a second to snarl.
Lola snorted as she took advantage of the lull in the zombie's decorum to rendezvous with her allies. "Fair warning, Princess: If something like that bothers you now, you're going to rot your liver out by the time we reach the New World."
"But—!"
"Uh, Vivi?" Carue cut in with a raised wing. "Cwoss is fighting a zombie apocawypse while widing a fiyah-bweathing undead cybowg T-Wex. Ahnd winning. I think yoah awgument is invawid."
Vivi's rant froze in her throat, and after several seconds trying to force it out, she slumped over in despondent defeat. "Yeah, alright…" she sobbed.
As the zombies around them fell into desperate panic, Nami was directing her Eisen Tempo to conjure up a credible impression of a porcupine. Except instead of quills, she was bristling with flesh-vaporizing lightning. So... not really like a porcupine at all.
In any case, the sound slowly shook Vivi out of her self-pity, and she glanced up just in time to catch sight of Nami taking a deep draught from the bottle.
"Hey!" Vivi snapped, pinning her ranking officer with a glare. "What the hell happened to not developing a tolerance?!"
"I already have a habit and a tolerance, so I'm good," Nami replied with a catty grin, taking another swig without a hint of remorse.
"The hell you—!" Vivi started to protest, then grew contemplative as a thought struck her. "Actually, how high is your tolerance, anyway?"
The navigator graced the Princess with a smug look. "I could down a hundred of these things and not feel a thing."
The princess's lips promptly pursed, her finger wavering for a moment longer before slowly retracting. "Okay, yeah, you're probably in the clear…" She then glanced around at the sheer anarchy raging around them. "So… what do we do now?"
"Eh..." Nami waved her hand side to side. "Not to beat an undead horse but... seriously, cyborg zombie dinosaur. Honestly, at this point, with the way they're going?" She held up a trio of fingers. "I give these dead-heads half an hour, at most."
-o-
In truth, it took us ten minutes to mop things up. Ten minutes of uninterrupted, unmitigated, and utterly undaunted carnage the likes of which I doubt Paradise has ever seen before in all its many years of piracy. But, unbelievable or not, it was simply a fact: In ten minutes' time… Thriller Bark fell silent.
Victory was… honestly a bit disturbing, I will freely admit. I mean, it was one thing to wade through a bunch of KO and groaning enemies, but this... well, this time I was literally walking on top of a sea of bodies. Between the smell, the footing, my own mind ranting at me that I was walking on what had once been, for the most part, people, and the various watchers wandering around and stabbing corpses at random, occasionally freeing the shadows of zombies we'd missed… yeah, never had a Straw Hat victory tasted so gruesome.
The ever-present gloom and doom of the Florian's fog wasn't doing us any favours, either, but honestly, that was kind of a positive, seeing as we didn't need it anymore. At least that was one aspect of the celebration we weren't missing out on: the sheer joy of victory. The Rolling Pirates were all celebrating, cheering and dancing ecstatically at the retrieval of their umbral counterparts and the prospect that they once again had the freedom to live in the sun.
I decided to try securing such joy for myself as I moved over to where the rest of the crew was gathered. Soundbite on my shoulder, Lassoo on my back, and the other twenty all gathered in an area reasonably devoid of corpses, with Chopper fussing over everyone.
"Well, Cross… this may have been rough, but if we're comparing this to Enies Lobby, I think you should try flipping the script more often," Nami muttered, slowly flexing her stiff shoulder.
"Yeah!" Luffy nodded eagerly, the motion and exuberant mood making for a weird image when combined with the hockey mask he was still wearing and the chainsaw that was still affixed to the end of his pipe. "This was really fun, Cross! Especially the dinosaur! I get to ride it next!"
"Heh, you look pretty cool too, Luffy!" I grinned at him. "And don't worry," I jerked my head back at where my mount was rooting through the battlefield, looking for anything it could consider to be fresh. "That thing's not shadow-powered, so you'll have ample time to ride it!"
Luffy perked up eagerly—
"We are not taking it with us," Nami blithely ordered.
Aaaand deflated just as fast. "Aww…"
"I still can't believe that there's even the possibility of it coming aboard…" Vivi groaned, dragging a hand down her face.
"Neither can I, and I actually built it!" Chopper agreed.
"Well, even if it's staying here, I know one thing for sure..." Mikey nodded solemnly... before shooting his flipper up with a grin. "I call the next ride after Luffy!"
"Wha—!? Hey, no fair, I wanna go next!"
"No, me, me!"
"No way, I'm—!"
"FWEET!"
"GAH!" Everyone flinched when a sharp whistle suddenly pierced the air, and we all traced it back to its impatient and... diminutive source.
"Sorry to kill the mood, but I just gotta know before we really get into the swing of things," Merry groused as she fingered her crunched nose. "Is there anything else on this island that you forgot about in the briefing, Cross? Anything we gotta handle?"
"Eh…" I scratched my chin thoughtfully as I cast a glance about the battlefield. "I… don't think so? But I could be wrong, seeing as this has been hectic as hell to keep up with, so let's do a quick rundown. Trapped shadows, including those of the Rolling Pirates and our new musician?"
"Restored," Brook confirmed with a tip of his hat.
"And whatever ones aren't will be soon," Boss added, gesturing back at the corpse-stabbing Rolling Pirates.
"AIN'T A LOT LEFT, and those that are still on the island WON'T ESCAPE ME FOR LONG," Soundbite vowed.
"Alright... Certainty of Oars never moving again, shadow or not?"
"It would take more work than Hogback will ever do on a corpse again," Chopper said vindictively before thoughtfully (and normally) tapping his chin in thought. "Not to mention more calcium than I think he could get in a lifetime."
"Absalom?"
"If he's in any state to fight again before we leave this island, I'll eat my Lion Cutters," Vivi said, before wincing and scratching her gut. "One punch from Luffy would have finished him off when Nami, Merry, Carue, and I had done our best. And when Sanji took over… well." She left it at that.
"Perona?"
"Worst case scenario, she'll wake up in a couple of hours; I'll go reinforce the sedative on her once I finish treating the Rolling Pirates," Chopper assured.
"Sounds good. And all that that leaves is—"
"MASSIVE, MASSIVE TROUBLE!" Soundbite suddenly screamed, all of us jumping and all of the Rolling Pirates looking around in shock.
"What are you—?" I began.
"What… is this?"
And with that, my words died in my throat.
Slowly, fearfully, I turned on my heel and beheld a most terrifying sight.
Paler than his already ghost-white norm, twitching and hyperventilating from sheer rage, and sporting a particularly incensed look in his eye, Warlord of the Seas Gecko Moria stood at the foot of his manor, taking in the absolute annihilation of the army he'd been pinning his hopes and dreams on for the past decade.
"Straw… Hats..." he breathed, veins pulsing in his forehead and grotesquely thick neck. "You... You... You... "
All around me, I saw my crew and our allies dive for weapons, prepare their attacks. I also knew that they wouldn't be anywhere near ready in time.
"You…" Moria snarled, more and more veins springing to life on his form, encroaching even into his eyes as his entire being shook. "You... YOU... YOU... YOOOOU—!"
And then, suddenly, Moria twitched and fell silent.
It was truly a spontaneous thing: one moment Moria was building into a rant, obviously gearing up to go Blugori-shit on us, the next his entire being just seemed to jerk and he… stopped. His face was still the same, his expression the same, but he was just… frozen.
Then, ever so slowly, he bowed his head, placing his face in his hands, and starting to shake. Slowly at first, but stronger and stronger, until his whole body was vibrating in place.
And then…
"—hishishishisihi…shishishishi…"
It started. It was... light, at the beginning. Just barely there, just within our range of hearing. I had my suspicions about what it was we were hearing, though I really, really wished I was wrong. But I was forced to acknowledge the truth when Moriah suddenly flung his head back and howled with laughter.
"KISHISHISHISHISHI! KIIIIIISHISHISHISHISHISHIIIIII!"
Because truly, that was what it was: a howl of laughter. Gale after gale of terrifyingly deranged cackling flew forth from the unhinged warlord, and deeper and deeper did it drive a dagger of fear into my heart.
But none among us was more terrified than Soundbite, who legitimately turned a pasty white on my shoulder.
"No…" he croaked, horror and terror inundating every syllable as he shivered in place. "Nononono, this can't be happening, CAN'T BE HAPPENING…"
"What is it, Soundbite?" I hissed out of the corner of my mouth, unwilling to take my eyes off Moriah for even half a second.
My snail swallowed hard, barely capable of getting the words out. "HE FIGURED IT OUT…"
And just like that, I couldn't move. Part of that was from every drop of blood in my veins suddenly transfiguring into liquid nitrogen.
"CROSS!"
But I'm pretty sure the rest was from the jagged thorny vine of a shadow that had burst forth from a gap between corpses and ripped through my side before I knew what was happening.
There... wasn't any pain to it really. Just one second, the vine wasn't there, the next it was. I tried to grab at it, but I was a bit distracted by the mouthful of blood I suddenly coughed up. That was... inconvenient, because it made it difficult to speak.
And... And I had to speak, I know I had to because I needed to tell my friends something important. I needed to tell them to... they had to...
"Run..." I gurgled.
But too late.
Too late because the next second, Gecko Moria snapped his head down so that he was staring at us all with eyes full of malevolent, absolutely soulless rapture.
"Niflheim," he whispered.
That word caused the suddenly too-dark shadows to erupt with motion.
That word set in motion the ultimate nightmare of Thriller Bark.