| “ | God give me voice, God guide my hand! God loves you.
— Marta
|
” |
Sullivan Knoth, a former shoe salesman, started the cult, the Testament of the New Ezekiel, in 1966 in New Mexico. When he and his followers were chased out, they settled in Temple Gate. An extremely talented speaker and leader who calls himself the New Ezekiel and who created his own Gospel who is perhaps the most twisted of the group. He is a rapist and pedophile who gets his followers to kill and torture for him. He claims to hear the voice of God and does what it asks. As he puts it, "God rejoices in the spilling of wicked blood!"
The voice has led Knoth's followers to kill their own children if the New Ezekiel thinks that they may be the antichrist. The cult also is at war with another faction, the Heretics, who believe in another voice. After Blake Langerman and Lynn Langerman arrived, they believed that their baby was the antichrist and attempted to hunt them down.
The cult is primarily farmers, Executioners, and the women who praise Knoth. One member, Corgan, is heavily implied to be a cannibal and has a machete and flashlight. Marta is Knoth's Eye as well as the butcher, a superhumanly strong and fast woman who wields a handmade pickaxe.
Battle vs. Scalled (by Pygmy Hippo 2)[]
You find our Messiah now!" Laird barked out an order to The Scalled. The Scalled angrily walked away to enter the village they were sure he ran off to. A woman was patrolling the area while a Crawler snuck up behind her.
"And Knoth is just..." She was interrupted by the Crawler grabbing her and vomiting on her as she screamed. She dropped her kitchen knife in shock as the Crawler stabbed her in the chest with his dagger before beating her to death.
However her scream had attracted some Testament of the New Ezekiel members. One member who looked like the Zodiac Killer slammed a hatchet into the Crawler's skull. The group turned around to see two more Scalled. A member known as Corgan stated "Consume the meat and spice it well."
The two sides clashed but Corgan slashed a Scalled's throat. The other Scalled was more cautious and dodged his foe's machete slashes before tossing him into a barbed wire barrier, trapping his target. He then raised his meat cleaver and brought it down on his head.
He turned around to be impaled on a pitchfork. "Let the bones be burned." Corgan finished as he and the remaining member went into the woods to search for more foes. A fiery arrow embedded itself in Corgan's neck as the last survivor took cover behind a tree.
"Cowardly-" Laird's insult was cut off by a shriek as Marta ran at Nick with her pickaxe raised. Laird fired an arrow but the tall woman merely blocked it with her pickaxe's metal middle. Nick blinded her with his flashlight before grabbing her pickaxe and tossing it away.
Laird watched with interest as Nick pulled out his hammer as Marta pulled out her meat hook in response. "God give me voice, God guide my hand." She swung but was forced back as Nick took a mighty swing. She got him the next time in the arm only to get a hammer smash to her side.
Nick would have ended it right there had he not heard Laird screaming. The torturer pulled his bloody machete out of the Scalled leader's corpse to see Nick enraged with his hammer raised. The man's head was turned into paste.
Marta picked up her pickaxe and swung at Nick who dodged. However that was a bluff and she stabbed the end through her titanic foe's belly. Nick dropped to his knees as Marta pulled the pickaxe out. "God loves you." She then shrieked again and swung the blunt side of her rock into his head before stabbing him repeatedly. Satisfied that her work was done, she walked away while mumbling.
Winner:The Testament of the New Ezekiel
Expert's Opinion[]
The Testament of the New Ezekiel won for many reasons-Their superior weapons, physicality, teamwork, and morale. The Scalled's only advantages were their leaders who were exceptions to the previous advantages. Laird's bow had the longest range of any weapon but he was an awful leader and Nick was stronger and more durable than Marta but couldn't match her speed and superior arsenal.
To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.
Battle vs. Jewish Zealot (by Jackythejack)[]
Book of Knoth
Chapter 16
“The Death of The Eye”
Out of all of the followers of Knoth, it is arguable that there are any that are more loyal than Marta. Alas, Marta was one of the most useful members of the testament, as she followed Sullivan Knoth, Prophet of the Lord our God, and enacted on his orders to the T. Never hesitating, and never refusing him.
Alas, even under the careful watch of Marta, the Eye of Knoth, there would still be despair among the testament. As a mission to go and spread their word among the ill, Sullivan Knoth, Prophet of the Lord our God, had sent a group of his followers, led by Knoth, to an asylum. Upon arrival the group would learn that few were there to listen to their preaching, as most had seemed to escape the asylum. Despite this, Marta had ordered the group to start preaching, and together they had all formed a circle in the middle of the asyluma nd began to preach the words of the Prophet.
After several minutes of preaching, the foreigners came. They spoke in foreign tongue, but their body language proved they regarded their preaching with hostility. Unsure of the words but knowing of the intent, Marta and her followers would lunge out at the unknown group of foreigners, and they would get involved in a skirmish…
…
Marta had to admit, she had no idea what the group of people in front of her were saying. She didn’t know where they were from, either, though if she had to guess she’d say they were European. Probably Italian or something, but that didn’t matter to her at the moment. What did matter was that they had interrupted her preaching, and they had interrupted the words of the Prophet Knoth.
“I understand you are angry,” Marta spoke as she leaned against her giant pickaxe. Her voice was barely a whisper as she examined the group. They wore eccentric clothes, and wielded strange weapons at their sides. Some of them carried staffs, but the one up front had a long dagger at his belt, but he was holding what looked to be a shovel. “But I do not understand what you are saying. English?”
The group didn’t respond with anything that she knew, and instead the man in the front of the group, which she assumed was the leader of this strange group of people, would approach her and start yelling even louder, a loud boom of thunder coming from outside as he increased his volume. Marta was starting to get infuriated about this, and was wondering if anyone would care if she dug into that damn skull of his. “Okay, you don’t speak English, but maybe you read it?” Marta would glance towards one of the testament members, who was armed with a pitchfork, and gestured for him to step up. “The pages.”
“Y-Yes, Marta,” the man said as he pulled out a small roll of papers. Really these were just pages of the Book of Knoth that they didn’t bother to put down into a book for their journey. The man walked towards the supposed leader of the group and offered him the papers.
The man stared down at the papers and frowned. He regarded them for only a moment before smacking the papers out of the man’s hand and yelling at him once more.
This seemed to be the last straw for Marta, as she suddenly twitched and brought her pickaxe up into the air. “Enough of this!”
The man up front, a leader by the name of Eleazar ben Simon, would watch as the woman began to bring her pickaxe down upon him. He sidestepped out of the way just before the pickaxe would have hit him. It dug straight into the ground and sent debris flying up, and he had to move his arms up to protect himself.
“It seems your yelling didn’t go so well, Simon!” One of the followers shouted as they unsheathed their Sica daggers, one of the only weapons they had on them before they were suddenly put into this strange situation. “Though I suppose that’s to be expected, isn’t it?”
“Be quiet, fool!” Simon shouted as he drew out his own Sica and pointed it towards the woman, who had just pulled her weapon of choice out of the ground. After a moment of staring the other down, the leaders, both in their own languages, would scream out, “Attack!”
Hell on earth would break out at that point, essentially. Simon was the first to make a move, and he had charged towards Marta with his Sica in an attempt to stab her with the weapon. Marta barely regarded him and knocked him away with a swing from her pickaxe, hitting him only with the handle, so he wasn’t destroyed the moment he was hit.
Simon was knocked back and landed on his rear. He let out a low groan and was about to get up just as there was another man standing over him. This one held up some kind of blade, which we would identify as a machete, and would attempt to bring it down upon the Jewish leader.
With one quick flick of the wrist, Simon blocked the attack from the machete with his shovel, stabbing the member of the testament in the leg with his knife. The testament member screamed out in pain, and would get down on his knee in an attempt to pull the Sica out. Simon quickly stood up and whacked him in the head with his shovel, knocking him to the ground, though Simon wasn’t exactly sure that he killed him.
The jewish leader was about to wail on him with his shovel to make sure he was dead, but then he realized that his own followers needed his help a little more than this guy needed to be dead. Simon, armed with his shovel, would quickly run into the fray of the fight, which had gotten even worse by the time he took care of his problems.
One of the members of the testament, a woman armed with a machete, would encounter a man wielding a wooden staff. She was trying to close the distance on this asshole who was keeping her at a range, but it didn’t seem like it was working. The woman would step forward only for the man to jab at her with his staff, normally causing her to step back, or actually getting a jab in on her and hurting her quite a bit, surprisingly.
Once the Jewish soldier had decided to lunge forward, though, to stab his staff towards the woman, the woman had stepped out of the way and swiped the machete down on the staff. She hit it with enough force to cut through a small segment of the staff, but that was all she was able to do, as the man would then swing his staff around once more and hit her in the back of the head.
The fighter winced and put a hand to her head as her vision became somewhat blurry. By the time she came back to her senses, she ended up having her legs sweeped up from underneath her and falling onto her back.
“You heretic!” she shouted out as she swiped towards the man’s legs with her machete. The staff wielding man took a step back and the woman quickly hopped back up to her feet, her eyes focused on the man in the staff.
Due to her attention being focused on the staff man, she was unable to spot the Sica wielding gentleman behind her, who would defend his teammate by stabbing the woman in the back. Her whole body tensed up as she dropped her weapon. The man pulled his knife out of her back and then used it to slit her throat. The woman dropped to the floor, now only a limp body.
“Thanks,” the man with the staff muttered as he turned around, only to see that a giant woman wielding a Pickaxe was charging right towards him. He brought his staff up in an attempt to stop the weapon that the woman would bring down upon him, but Marta would break through the staff as a whole and continue on. The Pickaxe would travel down further and stabbed the man in the leg.
Screaming in pain, the Jewish soldier would attempt to take the weapon out of his leg. Marta would do that for him, only to swing it sideways and stab him in the chest, right where the heart was. The pickaxe’s point had penetrated to the other side of the man, and he fell limp, now nothing more than a kebab.
Marta placed her foot against the man’s chest and kicked him away, and the other man, with the Sica, would stare at her with wide eyes as he wondered what he was supposed to do against a giant of a woman. Like Goliath’s little sister, she was…
“Come here, you pig!” Marta shouted as she charged towards the man with the actual weapon. The Jewish soldier didn’t want to stay there for much longer with the giant woman charging at her, so instead he opted to run out of the way and towards his other companions to try and get some assistance.
However there were other problems going on for the Zealots, other losses to be had, as there was another Jewish soldier with a staff that was charging towards one of the testament members, who was wielding a pitchfork. The man with the pitchfork would turn around just as the man was about to swing his staff onto the Testament member. The Follower of Knoth brought his pitchfork up and stopped the staff, but it took much effort to do so.
The Zealot was quick with the retaliation, however, and spun his staff around to hit the man in the side, and if the Follower of Knoth’s reflexes hadn’t been just as fast, he would have been successful, but instead the pitchfork wielder would block the staff just in time to avoid a dull blow to the hip.
The Follower would then push the Zealot back with his pitchfork, and as soon as there were a few good feet separating them, the two lowered their weapons, pointing the tips at each other. The man lunged forward once more with his staff, only to be intercepted by the pitchfork once more. This time, the staff was caught in the prongs of the pitchfork.
The Zealot tried to pull his staff back, but before he could, the man rotated his pitchfork with enough force to yank the staff out of the Zealot’s hands. Now defenseless, the man would try to step out of the way to dodge the pitchfork that was jutting towards him. The farming tool just barely missed and he tried to close the distance in an attempt to make the weapon more difficult to use.
The Zealot only ended up running straight into the prongs, impaling himself on the pitchfork. The Follower pushed the pitchfork in deeper, and though the Zealot tried to fight it, he would soon fall over dead.
“As it goes with heretics,” the man muttered as he turned around. As it turns out, another Zealot was ready to challenge him, armed with one of those knives that they kept around with them. The Follower was about to raise his weapon up to stab the man when he realized that...he wasn’t running towards him. He was instead running away from Marta.
The Zealot ran passed him and the man was about to move out of the way when Marta had suddenly bashed him with her pickaxe, not showing any mercy despite the fact that they were on the same side. The man flew off to the side, dropping his farming tool in the process. The man fell onto his back, staring at the ceiling dazed and confused.
He wouldn’t stay in this confused state for long, as there was another Zealot that had approached him. This time, it was Simon with his entrenchment tool. Instead of leaving this man alone like he did the the other follower, Simon kneeled by the man’s side and brought his shovel up. He brought it down with enough force to dig its way into a good amount of the neck. He was pretty sure the man died almost instantly. He pulled his shovel up and watched as the wound in the neck spurted blood everywhere.
“I have a feeling I’m not going to forget this encounter,” he muttered before turning around to find that the man he had knocked to the ground earlier was still on the floor. Only after staring at him for a few moments, which he was surprised he could spare on the battlefield, he determined the man was breathing. Not wanting him to wake up in the middle of the fight, he walked over to him and did the same as he did to the other Follower, also killing him. Now, it seemed, there were only two left, and one of them was the monster woman from earlier.
Speaking of Marta, she would eventually close in on the man from earlier and was able to grab him by the arm. The man spun around in an attempt to stab Marta in the arm, but she was too quick for him to react as she threw him to the ground. Marta didn’t waste any time with this, as she brought her pickaxe down upon the Zealot, stabbing right through him and into the ground underneath him. As she stabbed into him, there was a loud boom coming from the storm outside, causing the entire building to vibrate slightly.
“God loves you…” Marta muttered as she turned around to see who was left. There weren’t many left alive. Only two left, and she had no doubt that she could take them. Though, the remaining two weren’t in her immediate field of view. That one Zealot she killed took her on a big chase. She had to look around for a while…
With the absence of Marta, the last surviving Testament member realized she had bitten off more than she could chew. Like the Eye of Knoth herself, she was wielding a pickaxe, albeit smaller than Marta’s. The woman was currently fighting one of those men with the staffs, and she wasn’t sure how she was going to close the distance on him. Though, it seemed that both looked hesitant, not wanting to make the first strike.
Eventually, the woman decided that striking would be better than being striked at, and she lunged forward with her pickaxe. The man with the staff tried her best to smack her with his weapon, but this didn’t work, as she’d move out of the way and swing her pick at him. It dug into the man’s arm and went deep into his bone. The man screamed in pain at the woman pushed him away, ripping her pickaxe out in a way to tear out some of his flesh.
The woman, now feeling rather confident about this, was about to charge once more. She wouldn’t get far, though, as she was suddenly whacked in the head with some blunt object. She cursed and stumbled forward, bringing her hand to her head, only to then be smacked in the back with the same object.
“What the hell!?” The woman exclaimed as she turned around, only to see Simon once more, armed with his shovel and one of the Testament’s machetes. The woman was about to swing her pickaxe at the man, but before she could, ben Simon brought his machete into the air and swung it down on her head. The blade chopped off her head and popped off her body.
“You know, I prefer our blades,” he said with a chuckle as he walked towards the man. “You think you’ll make it?”
“Maybe,” the man replied as he put a hand on his wound. “What happened to that giant of a woman from earlier?”
“Who knows? I didn’t see anyone kill her, but you may want to get yourself a better weapon, in case we run into her again.”
“And where am I supposed to get a better weapon?”
“There are plenty of dead bodies around here, some of them our own. Just take one of their weapons.” Simon would then turn around, only to see the giant woman, Marta, appear into view. Simon glanced behind him at his companion and watched as he ran away from Simon. That...wasn’t a good sign. He turned back to look at Marta just in time to see her begin to charge at him.
“God guide my hand!” She shrieked out as she was practically on top of him within a few seconds. She swung her pickaxe at him, and Simon could just barely move out of the way, moving to the side of Marta. He stabbed his shovel into her leg, but it barely seemed to affect her, even though it had dug into her leg. All she did was flinch and swing at him again.
Simon would dodge again, but he wasn’t able to get close to her again. Marta would continue to lunge forward and swing at Simon, and always he was just barely able to dodge it. After a while of playing this game, Marta would suddenly swing at Simon with the handle of the pickaxe. It hit him in the chest and he was knocked backwards. He tried to bring his feet back to the ground but all that resulted in was him tumbling to the ground.
Before the leader of the Zealots could even try to get up, Marta was on top of him, already swinging her pickaxe up high to deliver the killing blow
“God loves-” Halfway through her psychotic screech, she suddenly tensed up, and Simon noticed there was a blade poking out of her stomach. Marta let go of the pickaxe and it made a loud clatter as it hit the floor.
“G-God loves you…” she muttered as she fell to her knees. The blade was pulled from her stomach and it suddenly appeared from her neck. This caused the giant of a woman to fall down to the floor, and it’d reveal that behind her was the Zealot who had originally ran away from Marta.
“Well, that was something,” Simon muttered as he stood up from his place on the ground. “Thanks for that. I guess I owe you one there.” “No, you saved me. I think we’re even.”
Simon smiled at the one other Jewish survivor before looking around at the building they were in. “Well, let’s try to get back home then, yeah?”
The remaining survivor nodded, dropping the sica and putting a hand to the wound on his arm again. “I think I’d like that.”
Winner: Jewish Zealots
Expert's Opinion[]
The experts believed that, despite being at a disadvantage in certain categories, the Zealots having the only real weapon, and having the experience against a more powerful opponent, had give them the upper hand in this fight.
To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.
Battle vs. Jewish Ghetto Police (by Jackythejack)[]
Weimar, Germany
Most of the time, the Flops, as they were often called in certain circles of society, didn't often go to check out mysterious rumors in the middle of random cities that the Reich didn't care much about at the moment. With the war going on, they were usually kept to their ghettos, but due to a lack of manpower, Flops stationed in the nearby concentration camp of of Buchenwald had been called in to help figure out what exactly was going on in the small town of Weimar.
It seemed that a lot of the people there had been reporting strange noises being heard in the middle of the night, and random disappearances were on the rise. The first assumption was anti-Reich behavior, and that was why the Germans wanted to do something about it, and quick. A perfect reason to use an otherwise expendable enforcement group.
The Flops arrived into the city sometime near sunset. The Jewish population of this city had been escorted out to the Buchenwald camp, and because of that there weren't any real cautious glances towards them, which was something that the Jewish officers were more than used to after walking the ghettos and concentration camps.
The leader of the group, a short, stoutly man who had a mustache that'd give Nietzsche a run for his money, approached one of the passerbys and began to question him. "You there. I know you're heading home soon, but we have been sent to investigaste rumors about strange disappearances and noises in the middle of the night. Now...can you tell me where these could be coming from."
The pedestrian frowned before pointing off into the distance. "I've heard people talk about the old abandoned house at the very end of Amselweg. The road just down there. The house has been abandoned for years, but I've heard many people say how they saw strange people going in, wearing strange clothing. That might be good for you."
"Thank you," the man said with a nod as he adjusted his hat and began moving towards this Amselweg the pedestrian had spoken of. He gestured for his men to follow him. "Come on, now. Let's move! I don't want to stay in this town any longer than I have to."
"What do you even think it is?" One of the Flops asked curiously as they moved down the street. The air seemed tense, even with people not being fearful of their presence. It still felt like the town was holding their breath. Did they know something the Flops didn't? "Everyone sure seemed tense."
"I think it's a couple of no good lowlifes who think that kidnapping is a way to get back at the Reich. Now quit thinking about it. We're here to get rid of the problem, not theorize about it."
"You have to admit, sir, things seem a little weird around here." Another one commented with a hint of anxiety in his voice. The leader of the group glared at him. "Sorry, Fishel, I just-"
"That's Hitzig for you, Ashtor!" The man barked back. "Now quit your yapping and get in the damn truck. The sun's going down, and I don't like working in the dark. We gotta find this place, and we have to find it fast."
Little did the Flops see there was someone spying on them from one of the nearby alleyways, who would take off shortly before they had started arguing. This man began running to Amselweg, now with a message.
---
On the street known as Amselweg, there way an old and decrepit house. It had been there long since the war had started, and it had always been a home with a dark past. Stories of insane homeowners and brutal murders were the home's bread and butter. It had fallen into a severe state of decay, with chipped paint and broken windows. It looked like someone hadn't been living in it for years.
But now, with the sun just about to set, a man had ran up to the house and quickly went through the old and practically broken door, which had only been holding on by it's hinges. He rushed inside and passed by several people very similar to him; faithful followers of the prophet Knoth.
The follower quickly ran up the stairs and into what was once the master bedroom, but was now where there temporary leader, Marta, the Eye of Knoth, had set herself. She was sitting on a chair that was made from some of the destroyed and worn down furniture in the house, combined with some other materials that they've stolen from nearby stores, but that's a different story.
Marta was muttering to herself when the follower, who she knew was named Jeb, walked in. She was thinking about that night in the asylum, with those strange men with the swords. She had thought she died, but...here she was, breathing and living like she always had before hand. She had long since decided that it was an act of God, but if that was the case, why would God bring her to what was clearly a different time? Nazis did not belong here, after all. That was many years ago. How much had things changed? Did Temple Gate change too...?
The follower known as Jeb walking into the room pushed her out of her thoughts. She stood up from her seat and leaned against her giant pickaxe, a weapon she had used to kill plenty of sinners. "Jeb. What brings you here in such a panic."
"The Germans, Marta," the man said as he stopped to catch his breath. "The Germans had called in a police force to try and find us. I fear what they will do to us once they catch us."
Marta froze for a moment as she took in what the mand had said. She glanced down at the floor before realizing that there was only one way to avoid capture by these idiotic Nazis, and that was going to be to kill them. Once again, her hand was going to be forced into violence. May god guide their hands...
"Then you must kill them before they get the chance to kill you. Destroy them or be destroyed." She spoke dramatically, pointing her pickaxe at the man and coming dangerously close to hitting him. "Do not wait for your enemy's weapons to strike before you retaliate. You have to defend yourself now."
"W-What do you mean, Marta?"
"I mean you gather up the few people we have, and we fight back against these officers. We have so few men and women with us that I can count them on one hand, but we must fight back."
"Will you be fighting alongside us, Marta?"
"Unfortunately...I cannot. I am the Eye of Knoth, Jeb. If anything were to happen to me, the Testament would be greatly damaged. You must go, and you must kill 'em. Understand?"
"Yes, of course I do!"
"Then go, ready the others. Prepare your weapons we have taken. It's time to declare war on this filth."
---
"Damn, this place sure looks creepy," Ashtor muttered as they rolled up to the old, decrepit building and walked out of their vehicles.
The leader, Hitzig, scoffed. "Yeah, if you're a child. Grow a pair, Ashtor, or else you're never going to be released from service."
"If we're going to be in the first place..." A separate one muttered.
"Enough of that talk, David. Let's get moving."
The group of five Flops made their way towards the front door of the house, going through the neglected, overgrown grass that the house called a lawn. They made it to the front door and paused.
"So, which one of us wants to knock?" David asked with a chuckle. "You think if we do that anyone would answer?"
"Please. If anything it gives them time to run off. Get your weapons ready, men." Two of them took out a club, while the other two, as well as Hitzig himself, took out their knives, flicking the button and the blade popping out in a short moment afterwards. "On three, we run in and sweep the ground floor. You understand?"
The four other Flops nodded, and Hitzig took a deep breath, preparing himself to shoulder this thing down. He was so not trained for this. "One. Two. Three."
He kicked the door down and it gave away surprisingly easily. Even got knocked off his hinges. That made Hitzig feel so much stronger as he hurried off into the house with his four men trailing behind him. In a rather short amount of time, they were able to get into most of the houses. The kitchen, the dining area, and the common room where the staircase was.
"Alright, that wasn't very eventful." Hitzig muttered as he ended up near the staircase with the rest of him men. He glanced at the three that were now seemingly grouping together. "Ashtor, Kuni, Meir, you go up to the top floor and figure out what's up there. David and I will stay down here for a more thorough search."
"Yes sir," the three said simultaniously as they moved up the stairs, brandishing their clubs and knives. Hitzig watched them for a moment before focusing on David, who was now hanging out near the wall.
"Sir, I found another door here. We may want to check this out." Hitzig walked over to David and noticed that there was a doorknob sticking out of the wall. Hitzig frowned for a moment before realizing that this happened to be attatched to a door that was the same color as the decrepit walls, and because of the lack of lighting in the home, the doorknob was difficult to spot.
"Good eye, but what's behind the door."
"Well, I think that's what we should be worrying about," the man muttered as he reached his hand out to grab the doorknob. "I don't know where this leads to, but I have a feeling that someone is hiding behind it."
"Well, don't just stand there. Open the damn door."
David nodded and within a moment the door was open. Inside there was....nothing. It seemed to be some kind of bathroom, and a small one at that. Most of the room was visible just from in front of the doorway. David frowned before looking back at the captain. "Well, guess I was wrong about that. Maybe I'm just-"
Suddenly, a woman had leaped out from god knows where in that bathroom armed with a kitchen knife and raising it up ready to stab. Hitzig's eyes widened and he tried to open his mouth to say something, but no words came out as he could only watch the woman grab David by the shoulders and plunge the knife into his neck. David's eye would widen as well and everyone in the room heard a faint gargling sound as the woman pulled out the knife and let David' body fall to the floor.
"What the fuck!?" Hitzig yelled as he readies his knife, suddenly realizing that this was far more than he had bargained for.
Meanwhile, at the top of the staircase, the three other Flops had just heard their captain's scream of surprise. They blinked and looked at each other. "What was that?"
Ashtor shrugged. "I don't know. Hold on I'm going to-"
"Gentlemen." Suddenly a figure came charging at them from one of the rooms down the hall, armed with a machete. The three Flops weren't able to process what was happening in time as the man went ramming into Kuni, sending the Flop rolling down the floor only to curl up into a ball at the end of the stairs, groaning in pain.
"The hell!?"
"Grab him!"
One of the flops, Meir, grabbed the seemingly crazed man with the machete by his weapon holding arm. He dragged the man off the top of the stairs and forcefully rammed his head into the wall. The old and delicate wooden wall of the house broke due to the force of the attack, though that wasn't saying much. The insane peasent groaned in pain as he was pulled away from the wall just in time for Ashtor to smack him over the head with the club as hard as he could. The club was enough to make the man go unconcious and tumble down the stairs. Ashtor watched it silently until the man hit the bottom of the stairs, next to Kuni. "Is he dead?"
"If he ain't, Kuni can take care of him," Meir muttered before ascending up the stairs. "Now let's keep going, there could be more of them."
"Shouldn't we check on the boss?"
"He can take care of himself. He's got a damn knife, and he's probably more skilled at fighting than any one of us. Let's get going."
Back with Hitzig, he was clearly not making the best of the situation, and was having an shamefully close struggle with the woman holding the knife. Their original knife fight, while managing to put several slashes into their bodies, didn't do much. Now they were engaging in a fight of brute force to see who could overpower the other, and currently it seemed to be a tie, and the Flop didn't quite enjoy that.
"I'm...not dying here!" Hitzig muttered before finding a hidden reserve of strength inside of him. He was suddenly able to overpower the woman and shove her into a wall. The woman let out a cry of pain as her back was slammed into it. This gave Hitzig enough time to stab his knife into the woman's shoulder, causing out another scream of pain. Afterwards, he forcefully pulled out his knife and jammed it into her chest repeatedly.
After he pulled his knife out of her chest for the final time, the woman slowly slid down to the ground, unable to support herself. She treid to grab at Hitzig's leg all the same, ever determined, but he moved out of the way and left the woman to think about what she had done. If she was still alive by the end of this, they'd arrest and interrogate her.
He came to the foot of the stairs just in time to see Kuni slitting the throat of a man in clothing very similar to the woman. He raised an eyebrow. "Any idea who these freaks could be?"
"Beats me. Seems like they're on a bunch of drugs either way..."
They stared at the dead body until they heard a loud scream coming from up the staircase. The two of them quickly bolted up the stairs and into the nearby bedroom, just in time to see Meir get his remaining hand chopped off, while the other one was lying on the ground in a pool of blood. Ashtor was in a struggle with some other man, and couldn't help his now disarmed comrade.
"Oh god!" Kuni exclaimed as he hurried over towards Ashtor to stab the psychotic attacker repeatedly. The man screamed in pain and was weakened enough for Ashtor to push him away. Just as Ashtor was about to bash the man's head in with his club, he was charged at by another woman. This time the two fell to the ground and the woman seemed ready to stab him with her knife.
Kuni had to think quickly, and he noticed that Ashtor had dropped his club. An idea came to him and he quickly picked up the club and slammed it down on top of the woman's head. She crumpled on top of Ashtor immediately and the Flop was able to push the woman off of him.
Though, they still had other problems to attend to. While they were struggling with the one woman, the man who had previously been fueding with Ashtor moved over towards Hitzig, who was now struggling with the woman who had chopped off the Mier's hands and head.
Hitzig would try in vain to get any attacks in to attack this damn woman, but found that none of them worked, and that his knife was too short for him to do any meaningful damage. It wasn't long until the woman with the machete charged forward and slashed him right across the chest, causing blood to splatter against the walls and floor as he dropped down to his knees, which put him at the perfect height for decapitation.
Kuni and Ashtor had been frozen in shock watching the whole thing. They were shaking, not believing that their leader had just died. They shared a glance at each other before deciding that if they were going to die, they should at least die fighting.
So, the two swallowed their fear and charged forward. They were only armed with a club and a knife. Hardly proper weapons, and it showed. They were at an inherent disadvantage. Kuni couldn't hit the one man and Ashtor was having problems dealing a meaningful blow to the woman. Sure, he was hitting her, but it wasn't anything fatal, and she was getting many slashes in with that machete of hers.
Ashtor heard a familiar voice cry out in pain, and turned around just in time to see Kuni being stabbed in the chest, right where his heart was. Ashtor watched as the man took his knife out of his companion's chest and Kuni slumped to the ground like a ragdoll. This was it. he was really going to die...
"You bastards!" Ashtor shouted out as he prepared one huge swipe with his club. It had enough power to plow right through the ladies attempt at blocking it and instead hit her right on the head. She stumbled back and Ashtor lunged forward to deliver another blow to her head. It would have made contact, too, and it would have killed if he hadn't found a sharp pain in his leg, causing him to take a knee. He looked down where he was and noticed that the woman from earlier, who Kuni had knocked out with his own club, was now concious and stabbing a knife into his calf.
He gritted his teeth and attempted to swing his club at her, but it was awkward trying to hit someone behind you. He could only weakly swing his club back and forth before suddenly being stabbed right in the throat, ending his life as he slumped to the floor and bled out.
The Testament members stared at each other, impressed with their own handiwork, as they saw Marta step into the room. "I told you you could do it. I am very pleased...but this place will not be safe now. They know where we are, and they'll send more people..."
She slowly turned around and began to walk away from the gory mess the room became. "We leave tomorrow morning. We will find our way back to Temple Gate."
Expert Opinion[]
The expert's believed that most of the credit here belonged to the weapons, which the Testament reigned supreme in. The loadouts were what mattered, in the end, with changed towards the Flops' loadouts being what would have net them the win. Though, due to a lack of known arsenal, this wasn't much possible.