Another horrifying scream pierced the air, followed by another flash of redness. The wave disintegrated into blood and poured down on the area, decorating Aaron's clothing with red spots.
"Blood rain," he said to himself. "Why the hell not?"
"Aaron, wait up!" Harry shouted. He, Kyle, and Jade were still quite a far distance from the entrance to the hospital. Aaron ignored them and moved on.
The lobby of the hospital was dark due to the lack of lighting combined with the sunset. Papers were scattered all over the floor and furniture was strewn about, evidence of the chaos that ensued during this building's final days. A long line of crimson traveled along the walls like a pinstripe. Deep incisions were carved into the walls, as if someone had taken an axe to them.
Despite the crime scene of a paint job decorating the walls, there wasn't a single body in sight. No Deadmen or motionless corpses.
Whole place must've been cleaned out, Aaron thought to himself. Even the dead ones.
He walked down the hall and made his way up the stairs. He was still surprised at how clean the place was, despite a few bloodstains here and there. Some of the places he explored were half-destroyed by explosives. That was the only way they could take out hordes of Deadmen in one blow.
He quickly explored each and every floor but found them completely empty. There were no corpses or Deadmen anywhere. In fact, most of the floors were left by themselves, like if people were planning on moving into the building rather than out. He mostly just found lab sheets and kids' drawings.
However, a sign of life presented itself. Aaron could hear what sounded like muffled crying in the floor above him. The cries echoed through the vents, filling the entire hallway Aaron stood in.
"Don't tell me that I'm wrong, Sarah!" the voice said, his voice filled with deep sadness. "Everything that happened to this country—everything that happened to you—is my fault."
A few seconds of silence followed the voice's mournful statement. Aaron waited for someone to respond. There was no way he'd be the one trying to comfort this guy.
"I didn't want to be their leader," the voice continued. "They chose me because I'm more powerful. And even if they do consider me their so-called leader, I can't control them. They're all monsters! We're all monsters out here!"
A loud exploding noise followed that last statement. Aaron ran to the nearest window and witnessed another red wave blast through the top floor. Like the first ones, the waves dissipated into red mist and drizzled down to the ground below.
Aaron gulped anxiously. They don't call him the Man in the Red Mist for nothing, he thought to himself. And he definitely earned the name Bloodletter.
He slowly returned to the stairs and climbed up the steps. He froze as he approached the entrance to the eight floor. The door that came between him and Bloodletter was dangling by one hinge and lazily leaned out into the corridor.
Aaron quietly poked his head out into the hallway, silent praying to whoever was listening that he wouldn't die as soon as he even looked at Bloodletter.
The level was completely different from the rest of the hospital. The hallway was shrouded in a shadow that made it seem as if night had already fallen, but the light from the sunset shone through the open spaces where the windows used to be. The walls were mostly destroyed, filled with long tears and holes as if torn apart by a machine gun. Dry blood painted the entire hall, splattered across the floor and the remaining pieces of the wall.
At the far end of the corridor was a man crouching to the ground, facing the wall.
Next to him was a silver helmet of some kind with a big red X etched across the front. Aaron recognized it as the helmet of Bloodletter. Nobody knew where it came from or what it was made of, but it was the only reason no DZI was ever able to kill him. It was bulletproof and hid his identity, not that they'd even need to know it. Or survive long enough to find out.
Despite Bloodletter's infamy and practical immortality, he seemed to be in a weak state when Aaron found him. He was softly crying to himself and pleading to whatever his Revenant visions made him see.
"I love you, Sarah," he said in a softer voice, almost a whisper. "But I don't care about human lives anymore. Especially him."
Him? Aaron thought to himself. The hell is him? He can't talking about me, right?
"When I find him and whoever the fuck thinks he's their so-called hero, I will rip them limb from limb and feed the remains to the rest of the undead."
Still don't know who he's talking about, Aaron thought.
"Kid."
Aaron froze. There was a slight chance he was either caught, or Bloodletter was still talking to the Revenants.
"Do you know why there are no Deadmen in here?"
Fear took over Aaron. His heart was practically punching through his chest. He slowly stepped back.
"I'm talking to you," Bloodletter said again, not bothering to look behind him. "Why aren't there any Deadmen in this building?"
Aaron gulped back the fear. "Uh...I actually barely found this place. I didn't—"
"Because I've established a rule among the other corpses you see wandering outside. I have more power. More knowledge. More reason to kill than any other Deadman in this world."
"Y-y-yes, sir," Aaron stuttered sheepishly.
"I don't need anyone's help. I provide enough food for them through the people I slaughter. So my rule is that no one comes to me. I go to them."
"What happens if they go to you?"
"Simple answer. However, there's one problem."
Bloodletter pulled out a knife and aimed it at his wrist. He quickly jammed it into his flesh and pulled back out, sending a stream of blood down his arm. The blood suddenly floated off his arm and swirled around his hand until it formed a perfect circle. In the middle of the red circle was a sphere slowly growing in size. Aaron realized he was preparing his powers.
"Nobody ever survives to remember the consequences."
Bloodletter aimed his hand toward Aaron. The red ball in the middle of the circle glowed brighter, almost as if it was set on fire. It blasted toward Aaron like a rocket, but he dropped to the floor before it could hit him. The ball crashed into the wall at the end of the corridor, exploding a massive hole in the side of the building. Aaron now had a clear view of the forest.
He looked back but was too late to dodge two red circular blades rushing toward him like ninja stars. One sliced through the right side of his body, nearly taking his right hand, while the other separated most of his left arm from his shoulder. It dangled onto him by a small piece of flesh, and the muscles and bone were completely visible.
As Aaron looked beside him in horror at the damage, Bloodletter rushed toward him and grabbed him by his neck. He shoved Aaron through the windowless space in the wall and held him over an eight-story drop to his death. Harry, Kyle, and Jade watched in horror from the bottom of the building.
"Wait!" Aaron shouted. "I swear I didn't know about your rule!"
"That's what they all say," Bloodletter growled.
"Please! I'm innocent! I'm still turning and I need to—"
Bloodletter's dead, milky eyes widened and his mouth gaped open. "Turning? Where did you come from?!"
He quickly jerked his arm, shaking Aaron and briefly choking him. He grabbed hold of Bloodletter's arm with his right arm while the other hung off his body from a small piece of flesh, swinging around uselessly. The muscle and bone slowly tried to reconnect to his shoulder, but Aaron couldn't feel or use it.
"I—" Aaron tried to reply, but he couldn't get his words due to Bloodletter's strong grip on his neck.
"Answer me! Or I'll kill you and everyone you love!"
"D-Don't you need me to f-find them first?"
Bloodletter pulled Aaron back into the building and launched him into the wall. He crashed back-first and slid to the ground, violently coughing as the oxygen returned to his lungs.
He stayed on the floor as Bloodletter slowly approached him again. Despite his terrifying powers, he looked like he could've been an average citizen, even a Commoner Deadman. He wore a buttoned shirt and jeans, both riddled with bullet holes and doused with blood. He had a beard that reminded Aaron of a human trying to survive since shaving would be the least of his worries. His knife was sheathed in his pocket, but his hands were almost completely red, as if he dipped his hands in paint.
"You look so normal," Aaron said fearfully, backing up into the wall as he rose from the floor. His arm bone had reconnected with his shoulder, but his muscles and flesh were still slowly regenerating. "Most Deadmen look like starved animals, but you could probably pass for a human if you cleaned up a bit."
Bloodletter stopped in front of him. He pulled out his knife and quickly stabbed it through his wrist, the blade sticking out the other end. He pulled it back out and stood still as his blood extended out of the wound in a curved shape. The curve continued to grow until it extended four feet out of the wound. The blood crystallized into a smooth red blade pointing to the floor, resembling a scythe.
"Do you think a normal person could do this?" Bloodletter asked, aiming the blade toward Aaron. "Now, you're gonna tell me everything I need to know. And I don't recommend retaliating."
"I'm pretty sure its blatantly obvious from that blade you're pointing at me," Aaron replied, "but what exactly are the consequences?"
"Curious little bastard, aren't you?" Bloodletter pressed the tip of the blade on Aaron's chest. "If it wasn't obvious from the long crimson blade currently positioned toward your sternum, I'm different from the other Deadmen. An Abnormal, as you DZI call us."
"How'd you know?"
"I've been wandering the Dead Zone for six years. I've come across many books and bodies. Just because I'm undead doesn't mean I can't be knowledgeable."
"Then what have you learned?"
"I know for a fact that you must destroy the brain of a Deadman to kill it. I also know that you can speed up the turning process through rapid blood loss." Bloodletter slowly brushed the tip of the blade against Aaron's chest, leaving a small tear in his shirt. "So, to answer your question, if you don't cooperate with me, I will stab this blade somewhere vital. So that when all of your humanity disappears with your life, you'll spend the rest of your days as a flesh-eating, worthless animal scrounging for food and being hunted by the people you once cared most about."
Aaron slowly stood up from the floor, the blade still pressed against him. Even though he knew this Deadman could end his life in a blink, there wasn't a trace of fear inside him. In fact, witnessing an Abnormal up close, especially one this dangerous, replaced his fear with intrigue. He couldn't help but challenge him.
"What if I revive as an Abnormal?" he asked confidently.
"There's only one way to do that," Bloodletter replied. "But it takes more deaths than just your own for it to happen."
"Are you gonna tell me how?"
Bloodletter walked back to the spot he was originally crouched in and picked up his helmet. The blade made of his blood crumbled to pieces. "You expect me to tell you useful information without offering some to me in return?"
"At least the information I need doesn't involve killing people."
"Speaking of which, there's a group of bandits camping out a few miles from here," Bloodletter continued, placing the helmet on his head. Aaron stared at the big red X emblazoned across the front of the helmet like an insignia, undoubtedly painted with blood. "And the Deadmen often grow hungrier during nightfall."
A grim look developed on Aaron's face. "I can see where this is going."
"You could be one of the only humans to see the infamous Bloodletter in action and live to tell the tale." Bloodletter made his way down the corridor and approached the entrance to the stairs. Before he could disappear down the stairs, he tilted his head back out for one final statement.
"Hope you're ready for a show. If you come along, I expect some answers to my own questions when it's all over. And if I don't get those answers or you decide not to come along...today won't end very well for you."