The Brothers' Quarrel

“Such and a sad tale and fate, Of a brothers sadness and hate, Two brothers stand, Face to Face, In a forsaken land, A cold like place, Sadness, revenge and, Hatred still…, All building up, he wants to kill, His brother who just, Stood there smirking, Chuckling to see his brother, Hurting, That evil smirk , Drove him round the bend, He could not wait till he saw the end, The End, Of all the pain built up inside, And all the times he, Almost cried…, The Only light, Was from the moon, The brothers fought fierce, It would all end soon, One Last Strike so the fight would be won, One Last Strike and its all over and done, Why so deep a brother’s hate, Maybe it was really just fate…” The words were etched into the sand by Ruin’s finger.

The Rogue Executioner stalked the moon, in representation of the Midnight Vipers. He studied his firearms, scanning for any flaw they possessed. They were his ultimate artillery, he carried them like living a living bullet. He rubbed his hand over the metallic, marble stone textured guns witnessing the beautiful essence they projected. He tapped his finger, of his new found power onto the guns as a yellow aura formed around them slowly fading away. He was no longer Ruin Cross the demigod, he was more Ruin Cross the proficient assassin. However, he had found that just a petite amount of his power had stayed with him. The power to bless, and be blessed. Posing only a threat to those who deceived what he lived. He removed his trench coat, laying it into the sand, and revealing an armory worth of weapon sections for his firearms to be placed in. With amazing speed, and unremarkable agility he quickly assorted the arsenal perfectly around his upper and lower body. He then slid his arms back into the coat, as it draped over his body almost like a curtain. Leaving his armory perfectly hidden. Then to his left, a weapon struck into the ground. A weapon no one had witnessed him use before. Something he ahs been studying since he was created. A curved katana. The moon glistened beautifully of the amazing structure of blade, making it seem lethal and fatal. He removed it from the ground, and inserted it into the sheathe hanging across his back.

He passed through the desert, witnessing that even its late nights bring extreme thermal temperatures. He continued away from the hidden underground fortress, belonging to the night stalkers. He came to the brink of the dead forest. He glared sadly, at the dead plants and the litter rate. Walking through as the trees and plants received his magical enchantments, turning this forest graveyard into a beautiful jungle. Animals repopulated the area swinging from tree to tree. The gorgeous butterfly, landed on his face as its wings’ wounds were healed. It slowly, flapped its arms and peered off into its habitat. Coming to the end of this nature walk, he peered at twelve poachers man handling a bear in a net. Ruin, stepped into the dim light, as his shadow stood long catching the attention of the animal murderers. “Ah. A fellow poacher no?” He then drew his sword from its scabbard. “No.” In dead silenced, he danced over the surface of nature impaling his curved bladed into that of the devil’s minions. Six of them, managed to escape, did Ruin run? No. he had no intention. Nature would do its own work, he thought as he touched the bear and it became more tamed and recovered from its injuries. He then slit a hole through the nest, as the beast rubbed against his leg before taking the path of the poachers.

He then continued his long journey, halting at the poachers’ vehicle. He rubbed his hand across his hood, while forming a blessing that was not as pleasant as his others. Roots began extracting from the ground, wrapping around the wheels seizing them from mobility. He now stood, only a step away from being into the desert wildlife. Yet, he didn’t moves. He only stared. A useful tactic he learned from Man of Forever. He waited for the perfect time to strike. Yes it was his own dear brother, but would he let sympathy stand in his way. Not this time. In every dimension he managed, to find “one.” The one who has the immortal connection with. Every realm Ruin, tampered in the “one” always showed up. This was probably their twelfth confront. And maybe their last. The legendary words, seeped from his lips like oxygen “I am my brothers keeper!”

As the beautiful full desert moon glowed above him, Roughhouse was a man on a mission. A mission not of peace or mercy, but rather one of hatred. One of guile and stryfe. Tonight after such a long time he would take a life. The most fragile thing in this would was life and to take it brought Roughhouse no joy, but tonight was different. Tonight, he would cross blades with man who's mere name had become like nails on a chalkboard to him. As the Freak of Nature sped toward his destiny, he had only one thought on his mind: His brother. Over the years he had taken many names, and lived many lives. He was now going by the name Ruin Cross. He had even gotten people to believe that he was some type of demigod. Roughhouse knew the truth. Ruin was nothing more than an overly skilled con man who rode the fense because picking a side in life demanded that he actually had an opinion. He had lived his entire life getting others to fight his battles, and do his dirty work, but today that would all end. Today they would settle their differences the only way they knew how. The spilling of blood.

Following his senses to where he knew his brother to be, Roughhouse slowed down to what he would call a crawl, but to others, it would be a casual walk. The air around him was filled with the stink of the betrayer. Even after all ths time, Roughhouse could still see the look of horror in the eyes of the villagers who housed them their entire childhood the night Ruin killed them. Ruin's powers manifested early in his life. And as the saying goes "power corrupts". Tonight however, he would show Ruin why he was called "The Great Destroyer". He would become everything he hated to put an end to his brother. And god help whoever got in his way. 

Slowly pulling off his black leather trenchcoat and tossing it to the floor, Roughhouse's arms began to shed their fleshlike appearance and become somthing more metallic. His chalk white skin became as black as obsidian. His body began to almost double in size tearing the fine tailor made shirt he was wearing. All that remained was his once over sized pants that now were just a little shy of being what you would call skin tight, his black boots and a pair of long, almost sword like knives sheathed on his lower back. Long ago, he had the knives blessed by a shaman to rid the world of the filth known as Ruin. The longer he stayed alive, the more likely he would stain the world with blood and bedlam. Those were his calling card. He had tried as hard as he could to remember the boy Ruin once was. The child who's eyes sparkled with a light that was almost inhuman. A child who had the soul of a warrior. Now he was neither of those things. He was simply what he was. A ruthless killer who had long since forgotten the lessons they had learned as kids. Lessons of honor and respect. Courage and service. The cornerstones of how to be a great man. Thinking back to that simpler time brought a tear to the Freak of Nature's eyes, but this was a fight that was long in the making. One that Roughhouse tried to avoid with all his heart. To find someone who is closer than family is something that only happens to very few people. To have to kill him was his burden to bear.

Stiffening up as he could feel the tainted powers Ruin was using to manipulate nature, Roughhouse steeled himself for the mission before him. Only one of them would walk away from this fight. And to say Ruin didn't have a chance of winning was to do him an injustice. He had spent a large amount of time honing himself into a living, breathing harbringer of death. To just allow his pride to fill his head and inflate his ego would be deadly. And few were as deadly as Ruin Cross. He was a master of the gun, knife, sword, and fist. To beat him would call for Roughhouse to use all his skill. All his focus. All his heart and soul. To win would be unbearable, but to lose was unacceptable. He was a man torn between his heart and his mind. He just hoped that after tonight he still had a heart. Kneeling down to pray to the most high, Roughhouse shed the tears of a brother who had to kill his brother. Of a man who had to take the life of his best friend. After tonight, nothing would be the same. Raising up from the ground, Roughhouse began to chant the ancient war songs of his people. As he raised his voice until it carried to the heaven, Roughhouse unsheathed both his knives and watched as the light of the moon played along the edge of the blades. The gleam of his metallic arms paled in comparison to that of the glowing beauty and craftsmanship of the blades. 

Turning his right hand back to normal and running the edge of the blade across his palm, The Great Destroyer was motionless as the blades ran red with his blood. Placing his hand on his chest so that a large bloodly handprint could be seen on his chest. Closing his hand, Roughhouse watched as the blood dripped into the ground and then turned his arm back metallic. He was taught that once you see your blood spilled it made your fighting spirit soar, because once it was spilled you didn't have to worry about it again. The time had come to let his presence be known. To call the beast made flesh to him. To end their tragic friendship. Calling out at the top of his lungs, Roughhouse could only think of one thing to say.

"Ruin, I have come to end this. Show yourself and let us end this once and for all. I promise you a quick and painless end. come to me, brother. come and face your ultimate demise."            

           

The stunning poem he had embedded into the sandy land ran through his mind over and over. It was more than just rhyme, it was more than just a phrase…it was prophecy. Their prophecy, in every lifetime the two would brawl but none like this. This actual might end it all, the viper had gown to close to the likes of compassion. And emotions would slowly dissolve away his power of immortality. He listened as the words entered his ears, “Ruin, I have come to end this. Show yourself and let end this once and for all. A promise you a quick painless end. Come to me brother come and face your ultimate demise.”  He knew this battle would be far from effortless, even with the blessing bestowed upon. His brother was not a man of war. But war was his brother. Through the thick sandy wands, his brother did see him but he saw his brother. Sticking to his loyal grounds, he did not budge. Once he stepped into that desert, his blessing would be of less importance. But here… where nature had no boundaries he was far from inevitable.

A small barrier was broken, well eased in his mind. He knew this had not been the work of his sibling. His powers were slowly being soothed, as his eyes rolled in the back of his head and looked at the hover goddess of nature. “Do not wait for him to come to you, but go to him. Nature, shall work as your barrier.” He took the words and knew exactly what she meant, he then spoke up to his blood rival “Your threats, of fatality will not intimidate me. For mother nature is my guardian.” He stepped over the thin line between life and death, and as heat omitted from his feet the sand began to crystallize turning into a wildlife’s habitat. Nature was following him. The process continued as marched towards his adversary. They stood within arm lengths of each other. He glared into the fiend’s eyes, not believing that he saw. He watched as the demonic minion, took the lives of his many victims. The same reason he was here to execute Ruin. Year by year, he caused great bloodshed. Usually using others to work as his accomplices.

In saying that, he deserved all the damage that would be inflicted upon him this night. This brawl  wouldn’t be of a short period, but off eternity. Like flames being fed by precious woods. A wildfire, jumping from victim to victim until finally it had no host. That’s what this would this was. It would take more than simply admitting defeat, it would take death to satisfy the others soul. To know that this embodiment of his, this symbiotic entity would not cause him any more anguish and anxiety. He wrapped his fingers around the golden hilt, clutching it as if his life depended on it. Which it did. Drawing his rapier, it’s chrome silver blade was exposed to the outside atmosphere. And with the power bestowed upon him, he struck with deadly precision and unremarkable agility at his opponents chest while flipping over his head. Standing back to back waiting for his opponent to go on the offensive, he spoke true words “I sought my soul, but my soul I could not see. I sought my God, but my God eluded me. I sought my brother and I found all three.”