Part 2

“SIMONS!” JC spotted the shadow figure from his peripheral vision, “So we finally meet.” JC Denton slowly opened his trenchcoat and pulled out a hilt of a sword. He pressed the trigger, and it ignited into an azule glow that illuminated Denton’s dark face.

“So we finally meet, Denton,” Simons slowly drew open his trenchcoat. He pulled out a plasma rifle, twice the size of his arm.

“There is no doubt as to the outcome of this, Denton. YOU DIE!” Simons screamed, and he began firing sporadically at Denton.

Through Denton’s sunglasses, everything slowed down. He saw the plasma clip flying towards him – and squatting down, he leapt into the air, and flipped over the plasma clip.

Oh shit, how’d he do that? I’m fucked. Simons thought. He fired away at the evasive Denton. Finally, his plasma rifle ran dry. Denton was still alive.

“GODDAMN IT! That was not the plan!” He cursed. Denton stood still, as if nothing had happened; his face down in sincerity and his arms relaxed. All of a sudden he sprung to action, two pistols appearing in his hand.

“GODDAMN!” Simons rolled aside as bullets slammed into the wall behind him. PIFF! PIFF! POW! PIFF! Simons kept running as the bulletholes against the wall began to catch up to him. He activated his speed augmentation, and outran the bullets. Denton’s pistols clipped empty. He dropped them, clattering to the ground, barrels still smoking.

“My, my, you’re a bad shot,” Simons taunted. He jumped at Denton with a lion’s leap, and aimed a pistol at Denton. Simons fired, and a bullet whizzed out of the chamber, barely missing Denton, but striking his hand and blowing it off the arm.

Denton dropped his sword with his hand.

“You’ll pay for that,” He sneered. Denton regenerated his hand, and it popped out of his bloody stump that was his wrist. He drew out a crowbar. His favorite weapon.

“What the fuck?” Simons both frowned and laughed to himself. He fired his pistol into Denton.

The bullets ricocheted off a bluish shield that seemed to an aura surrounding Denton. He approached Simons without fear. Simons squinted his eyes in confusion. He saved his last shot in the chamber until Denton was clear right next to him. He placed the pistol dead on Denton’s forehead. Denton did nothing but stand there calmly.

Simons pulled the trigger again.

The bullet ricocheted.

Simons threw the pistol at Denton, “FUCK!”

“My turn,” Denton said, and he began swing his crowbar in a complicated and violent fashion. Simons backed away in steps. The red crowbar was a crimson blur in front of him. Simons backed into a wall, and then he saw in slow motion: Denton brought the bar back behind his head, gritted his teeth, and then brought the crowbar towards Simons’s face. He twisted his head and barely escaped the blow. There was a deafening clang as the crowbar impacted with the cement wall and bent the crowbar into an acute angle.

Growling, Denton dropped the crowbar. He backflipped to his fallen sword, and picked it up. Denton regained his composure and took a battle stance. He squatted low the ground, sword at the ready, trenchcoat flapping in the wind.

Simons backed off into the other corner of the room. He was ticked off too. He staggered his stance and ignited his red blade. He gritted his teeth.

The two rivals stood at opposite corners, one glowing a calm blue, the other seething with red. They paused for a moment to regard each other. Then they charged.

Both of them lifted off the ground with an incredible jump, and collided with each other with their blades. There was a myriad of clashing and exploding noises as their swords impacted each other with inhuman speed. Without warning, Denton faked a right stroke, but then suddenly reversed his stroke and sliced clear across Simon’s torso. Simon’s eyes widened in surprise. And his two body parts separated into a bloody mess on the floor.

But then, Simons began laughing like a lunatic. He began to guffaw violently, shaking his exposed intestines that stank of iron. Without warning, his body began to grow back, and regenerated itself to it’s normal state. He rose again.

“You think that I’m dead? I’m just like you. I can regenerated myself with my bioelectricity, Denton.” Simons laughed. He pulled up his sword, and held it at ready, “I’m invulnerable as long as I have my bioelectricity.”

“Not if I CUT YOU APART!” Denton lunged violently at Simons, and began rapidly shredding him. Simon’s flesh flew all against the wall like grated cheese and his innards fell to the ground. Denton drew his sword back and forth with demonic will.

Simons didn’t even get the chance to yelp. He was cut into chunks of flesh before he could open his mouth. His ass was cleanly roshamboed by JC Denton, a total facelift overhaul royale-grande. All that was left of his body was bloody, rotting chunks of meat that used to compose his body.

“Some mutha fucka’s always trying to ice-skate uphill.” Denton hissed tauntingly. He looked over the skewered pieces of meat that was Walton Simons. Fitting death. Must’ve been painful too.

Denton retracted the azule blade, burning with an intense blue flame, into its gold hilt. He turned calmly away and walked off as if nothing had happened.