cHApTEr 12. unTil TwisTED killEr Do us pArT (1 of 3)

The next week turned out to be the complete opposite of the one before. With Kevin back, most of their time was now spent on training and honing the skills their abilities granted them. This mainly applied to Mioray and Matt. Farah never joined their training sessions.

“We call it a suicide attack, but really, it’s just another way to use your powers in an unorthodox manner,” Kevin explained during one of the sessions, instructing Mioray on how to push beyond his known limits. “The learning curve’s different for everyone. Mia picked it up easily. For Terry, it took more than four months. He was dead set on defying gravity and driving on walls, no matter how illogical it seemed. That’s just how he was. Matt, on the other hand, is still figuring out his threshold.”

Mioray wasn’t sure what a “suicide attack” would look like for him. As far as he knew, all he could do was detach his arms and legs, connected by black threads. Nothing flashy. Together with Matt, he racked his brain trying to find a way to break through his limits, but they always hit a wall. It was becoming clear that imagination and creativity were just as important as raw ability.

“In any case,” Kevin continued, offering more grounded advice, “relying on a suicide attack is a bad idea. No matter how powerful it is, in the end, you won’t be the one left standing. Before using it, ask yourself – is it really worth it? You could lose more than you gain.”

Mioray understood what Kevin meant. A suicide attack was a last resort. There was nothing after it, no fallback plan, no hidden ace. Sure, it might let him beat an enemy, but what then? What if more opponents were waiting in the wings? Or what if the one he defeated was undead and just regenerated in the next second? Framed that way, such an attack was less of a strategy and more of a gamble. A suicidal one, at that.

Aside from the training, they held a final farewell for Terry. Natalie decided it was best to burn his body. They honored her wish, and watched as Terry’s form was reduced to ash. No miracles happened. His body didn’t regenerate. Without his soul, it was nothing more than a shell that didn’t decay on its own.

During that same week, Natalie Lance had also launched an investigation into Mia’s whereabouts, and it paid off. She discovered that a valuable object, believed to be Mia’s regenerating body, was being held at a police precinct. Plans were already in motion to discreetly transfer it to representatives of the Order of Mercy. The handoff was set for the evening of October 21st, in one of the city’s nondescript back alleys. Everything was in place for the retrieval mission.

​​The white disc of the moon hung high in the sky accompanied by red planet Mars – a rare sight these days, given how often the clouds had swallowed it whole. Mioray and Natalie stood atop a five-story building overlooking the alley where the exchange would take place. Erinel was with them as well, though her presence remained invisible to Natalie. Erinel kept her gaze fixed on the alley below, observing the scene in silence despite her central role in the operation.

Truth be told, they had underestimated the Order of Mercy. Severely. Three vehicles were parked in the alley’s small lot, and seven armed operatives patrolled the perimeter, all carrying automatic rifles. They wore yellow hazmat-like suits with sealed helmets, their faces hidden behind dark, mirrored visors.

“We can’t ambush them like this,” Natalie said, shaking her head grimly. “We’ll have to pull back and come up with another plan to get your friend.”

“What’s happening there?” Kevin’s voice crackled through Mioray’s earpiece, calm but clearly concerned.

As Mioray promised to Matt, they had gotten their hands on a set of discreet walkie-talkie earbuds. Just enough tech to let them stay in touch without drawing attention. Kevin, Farah, and Matt were stationed in a car a few blocks from the alley, ready to jump in. The plan originally involved Kevin taking down members of the Order of Mercy by paralyzing them with his fingernails. But now, seeing what they were up against...

“I agree,” Kevin said after Natalie explained. “My fingernails need to be able to cut into them to take effect. With those suits, they’re shielded.”

Mioray clenched his jaw. He hated to admit it, but they were right. The operatives below weren’t just carrying guns, they looked ready to use them at the first sign of trouble. Sure, Mioray and the others were technically undead, but they weren’t invulnerable. A clean shot to the heart or head would knock them out of commission for days.

Behind him, Erinel’s breath tickled his ear.

“I’ll do my part as we agreed,” she said, her voice calm and composed. “We need to make sure it’s actually Mia they’re handing over. Kevin can tail them after and see where they take her.”

Mioray heard a soft sigh, oddly doubled – once through his earpiece, and again in the cool rooftop air.

“She’s saying something, isn’t she?” Natalie asked, visibly irritated. “This is getting impossible to coordinate without proper communication.”

Mioray offered her a sheepish apology, as though the miscommunication were his fault, then relayed Erinel’s words.

“I suppose we can manage that much,” Natalie muttered, clearly reluctant. Though she couldn’t interact with Erinel herself, she already seemed to dislike her. Maybe it was the ghostly presence, maybe the attitude or maybe it was just instinct. Still, to her credit, she pushed personal feelings aside. Now wasn’t the time.

The rooftop door creaked open behind them, and Farah stepped out, joining them at the edge. Her gaze swept over the scene below.

“Wow,” she whistled softly. Her eyebrows rose. “That’s definitely not how I imagined researchers would look.”

Down in the alley, movement stirred. A green van drifted cautiously through the narrow passageway leading to the lot, followed closely by a police cruiser. The Order’s operatives raised their rifles, tense, but held their fire. From one of the parked vehicles, a young woman stepped out.

She looked about Mioray’s age, perhaps two or three years older. Square-framed glasses perched on her nose. She wore slim black jeans and a white turtleneck beneath an orange coat. Her hair was white, soft, and voluminous, like a blanket of snow cascading over her shoulders. Her skin was pale – almost porcelain – and she moved with a bounce of excitement toward the van as it rolled to a stop in the alley’s center.

Two men stepped out of the van. One of them immediately caught Mioray’s attention: Chad Haytham, Natalie’s partner. The last time Mioray had seen him, Haytham had taken a hit at the abandoned factory. His forehead was still bandaged, but he looked no worse for wear otherwise – alert, wary, steady on his feet. He and the other officer glanced uneasily at the raised rifles but held their ground as the white-haired woman approached.

“You don’t think this is overkill?” Detective Haytham asked as she drew near. Natalie had her phone on speaker, letting Mioray and the others hear everything from the rooftop.

“What? For a delivery like this?” the woman replied with a delighted lilt in her voice. “Of course not! Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t show up with a full police parade. Sirens blaring, roads blocked off. Says a lot about the police, doesn’t it?”

“We kinda have our hands full at the moment,” Detective Haytham replied dryly, “and random deliveries we have zero information about aren’t usually our expertise.” He nodded toward the van. “So, what’s inside the van?”

The pale woman narrowed her eyes, suspicion flickering behind her glasses.

“Something that was stolen from us,” she said, her tone curt and vague. “It doesn’t concern you. You’ve done your part, delivery boy.” She extended her hand, palm up, waiting for the keys.

“Okay then.” Haytham sounded thoroughly unimpressed, but still handed her the van’s keys. “You’re welcome… important girl,” he added, sarcasm bleeding through the words.

With that, he nodded to the officer beside him, and the two walked toward the waiting police cruiser. Before stepping inside, Haytham paused, surveying the area one more time. He pulled out his phone.

“Are you sure about this, Natalie?” his voice came through the phone speaker on the rooftop.

“Yes, Chad,” Natalie answered softly, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. “The Order of Mercy is hiding something, and I intend to find out what. I told you, I got a tip they might be behind the incident at the factory. And the university, too.”

“I’m all for investigating, but not like this. It looks dangerous. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t,” Natalie promised. “I’m sorry, Chad, but I can’t pull you in any deeper. Not until I have evidence of the Order’s crimes.”

There was a pause. Then Haytham said, “Then you’d better get it, Detective Lance. I’d hate to see you fall short. Call me when you have something.”

The line went dead. Haytham slipped into the cruiser, and the vehicle drove off, tail lights flickering as it rounded the corner.

Down below, the white-haired woman from the Order unlocked the van’s rear doors. She peeked inside and, judging by her clapping her hands cheerfully – Mioray could imagine a delighted gleam in her eyes – it was exactly what she’d been hoping for. From the rooftop, Mioray couldn’t see what she was looking at, but they all knew what it had to be.

It was Natalie’s idea for Chad Haytham to oversee the delivery. Once she found out about the planned transfer, she leaned on their long-standing trust. Chad had worked for years with the police department. He was a respected and reliable detective. He got the assignment with ease and more importantly, he tipped Natalie off about the when and where. Thanks to him, they had time to prepare and stake out the location. What none of them had expected was the armed reception.

The original plan was simple on paper. Erinel, using her invisibility, would sneak into the van to confirm Mia was inside. Then Kevin would disable the Order’s members using his ability. Once the threat was neutralized, they’d extract Mia and make a clean getaway.

It all sounded manageable. But they’d miscalculated. The Order of Mercy didn’t come casually. They came ready. Too ready.

“I’m going in,” Erinel said calmly. She turned and headed for the rooftop door.

“Wait, Erinel–” Kevin’s voice tried to stop her, but she didn’t respond.

Mioray watched anxiously, heart pounding. A few minutes later, he spotted Erinel moving through the back alley below. She walked straight toward the van as if she were strolling to a corner bakery, not infiltrating an armed zone. The Order’s operatives didn’t react at all. Not even a twitch. It was as if she didn’t exist.

“She’s always that confident, huh?” Natalie muttered, tense. Her eyes were locked on the van as she couldn’t see Erinel. “How’s it going?”

“She’s heading for the van,” Mioray reported.

He scanned the crowd again, searching for the pale woman in the orange coat. She was now standing by the van, speaking animatedly into her phone. The rear doors were already closed. Erinel had to open them again. Hopefully, her reality-bending would make it so no one noticed, convincing them the doors had simply been left open earlier.

“It’s a shame you can’t just freeze them all,” Natalie muttered, turning to Farah. “That would make this so much easier.”

“Well, if I did, they’d all die,” Farah snorted. “And I’m not a murderer.”

“I understand.” Natalie exhaled slowly. “I guess that’s why you couldn’t freeze the Dismantler back at the factory, with all the officers around.”

“That, and I’ve got a gut feeling it wouldn’t have done much anyway. He regenerates too fast,” Farah trailed off with a shudder.

Maybe the small talk helped them pass the time, but Mioray wasn’t listening. He couldn’t. His focus was locked on Erinel, every muscle in his body coiled with tension. One of the people below might have been close to death, and if that were true, then Erinel would be exposed. That uncertainty gnawed at Mioray.

And that turned out to be the least of their problems.

“Umm… guys…” Matt’s uneasy voice crackled through the earbud.

“What is it, Matt?” Farah asked, her tone sharp with concern.

“I think I just saw Impact Corpse pass us…” Matt gulped. “He’s heading into the back alley.”

That was… something nobody had expected. Mioray felt like a thousand needles had pierced every nerve in his body. What is he doing here?! How did Impact Corpse find out about the handover?!

“You’ve got to be shitting me!” Farah blurted, too loud. Natalie clamped a hand over her mouth just in time to avoid alerting the people below.

“We’re not ready for him,” Natalie hissed, her forehead already slick with sweat. “And if he shows up here, all those people are dead.”

Mioray scanned for Erinel. She was still moving toward the van, calm and deliberate. She had to have heard the warning. Was she really going through with this?

“Erinel, you should head back!” he called out, urgency sharpening his voice. “It’s not safe!”

She didn’t even flinch.

“Erinel, listen to Mioray,” came Kevin’s voice. Calm, steady, but unmistakably firm. “Impact Corpse is going to be there soon.”

But she kept moving forward, undeterred.

“I’ve got the blade with me,” her voice echoed in their ears.

“Well? Is she turning back?” Natalie asked, irritated.

“She’s not stopping,” Mioray replied quietly, his eyes locked on Erinel.

“Oh, that–” Natalie puffed her lips in frustration, unable to find the right word. “Just because she’s been around forever doesn’t mean she knows better!”

The tension played on their nerves. Impact Corpse was nowhere to be seen, but he was close. This was the calm before the storm, and Erinel was heading straight into its epicenter. Clinging to the edge of the roof, Mioray watched as Erinel stopped behind the van, unnoticed by the Order’s operatives. They kept patrolling, waiting for something. Erinel reached for the van door’s handle.

And at that moment, gunshots rang out.

It was so sudden and loud, it felt like someone started beating Mioray over the head. He jumped, taken by surprise, trying to figure out where the Order’s armed members were shooting.

“What’s happening?!”

“Why are they shooting?!”

“Where’s Erinel?!”

Flurried voices filled his ears. He couldn’t even tell who was shouting what. The gunfire stopped. Mioray frantically scanned the scene. Erinel lay on the ground near the van. Her black dress was torn through with bullet holes, soaked in red. Whether she was breathing or not, he couldn’t tell.

The pale woman finally put away her phone and approached Erinel, skipping.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, I can’t believe my eyes!” she shrieked in a shrill, unpleasant voice. “You do exist after all! Death! The Grim Reaper! And you’ve got a physical body? Look at you, looking just like a real human!”

She leaned in and touched Erinel’s blood with her fingers.

“But wait, what is that? Your blood is changing color. It’s turning green! How interesting! So, inside your body it’s red, but once it’s spilled, it turns green? Why is that? Maybe your human appearance is just an illusion?”

Indeed, the red spots on Erinel’s dress had shifted to green, just as the woman said. But that detail felt distant, irrelevant. Mioray’s breath caught when he saw Erinel raise her head. She was alive. For a moment, he had feared the worst. Relief surged through him, but it didn’t last long. She was still bleeding, still in danger. They had to get her out of there.

“Huh?” The pale woman crouched next to Erinel, cocking her head. “What are you saying?”

“Why...” Erinel’s voice came out broken, as if every syllable cost her strength. “...why can you see me?”

“Oh, I shouldn’t?” The pale woman blinked in surprise. She removed her glasses and glanced down at the spot where Erinel lay.

“Oh my god, you’re right! I can’t see you without the glasses! And I can’t hear you either. It’s like the universe is telling me to ignore you. Fascinating!” She slipped the glasses back on, her voice crackling with excitement. “So they actually work! They even transmit the wavelengths of your voice!”

She bounced back to her feet and started pacing in a wide circle, hands on her hips. “Wow, but you’re sturdy! You took all those bullets and you’re still breathing?! What are you, immortal or something? Can you die? Can Death die? What would happen if you did? Would humanity break free from death? Would we live forever? I need to know!”

She spun on her heel. “Hey! Somebody give me a gun! A normal, simple handgun, not one of these monstrosities!”

One of her operatives rushed to her side and handed her a pistol. She checked the chamber, clicked off the safety, and turned back toward Erinel.

“Is she really going to kill her?” Farah growled through clenched teeth. For once, she seemed to forget her disdain for Erinel.

Erinel’s in danger. Erinel’s in danger. Mioray couldn’t think of anything else. His mind was stuck in a loop. If I don’t move, she’ll die. He didn’t know everything about greanrips, but something deep in his gut told him: yes, they could be killed. They could live forever, but if they were killed, it was over.

And that woman, that crazy pale girl, was about to do it.

“Mioray, what are you doing?!” someone shouted. Farah. Or Natalie.

He didn’t care.

Mioray launched his arm forward, his hand snapping toward the fire escape across the alley. It latched tight. He jumped. This past week of training wasn’t for nothing. As he fell, he reeled in the black threads, converting the drop into a swing and rocketing himself straight toward the van.

“Truthfully, I’ve got so many questions!” The pale woman said cheerfully, waving the pistol around. “But orders are orders. They said to kill any intruders. What a waste, honestly! I bet you could tell me so many secrets! Oh well. Maybe next time. In another life.”

She raised the gun, pointed it at Erinel’s head. That was when Mioray slammed into her with the full force of his swing. The impact knocked the woman off her feet, sending her skidding several steps back. The gun flew from her hands, clattering to the ground. Mioray landed hard but rolled, immediately pulling himself up. His arm snapped back into place, and without missing a beat, he rushed to Erinel’s side.

Blood still oozed from her wounds, thick and lazily pulsing green.

“Erinel!” he cried, taking her into his arms. “How bad is it? It looks bad! I don’t want you to die!”

“Oh, Mioray…” she managed a weak smile, her voice barely more than a whisper. She raised a trembling hand, slick with green blood, and touched his cheek. “It takes more than that… to kill a greanrip.”

Haywire voices crackled in Mioray’s earbud, frantic and overlapping, but he tuned them out. His world narrowed to the fragile rhythm of Erinel’s heartbeat beneath his fingers.

“I hope so,” he murmured with a bitter smile. “There are still things I want to show you, and so much more you can teach me.”

He glanced up.

The pale woman was on her feet again, trembling with fury. Her lilac eyes shimmered with something cold and final behind the lenses of her glasses – like death waiting to be written.

“We have to get you to safety. Somehow,” he whispered.

The woman tilted her head and bent forward, hands planted on her hips. Her voice dropped, suddenly sharp.

“And who do we have here?” Her brows knit together, eyes narrowing. “You must be one of them. A Restored on the loose. So it’s true. Restored with minds of their own hiding in the city,” she shot a venomous glare at her subordinates. “Amazing. Do I have to spell everything out for you fools? We don’t need her. We can take this one with us. Shoot them both!”

Mioray instantly shielded Erinel with his body. Gunfire erupted again, brutal and thunderous. Casings clattered to the ground, smoke filled the air, and the bitter tang of gunpowder clung to every breath. Mioray clenched his eyes shut, bracing for the pain, for the moment his consciousness would rip away. But it didn’t come. He opened one eye and froze.

At the alley’s entrance, a towering figure advanced, muscle-ridden and monstrous. His eyes resembling black voids were lit with furious fire, glowing like a forge. The Order’s operatives tried to slow him down, but their shots barely registered. The monster locked eyes on the pale woman, and even she recoiled slightly, unable to look away. Her lips stretched into an almost childish grin.

“Oh my god,” she gasped with delight. “This day just keeps on giving. The infamous Restored who ravaged through the city! Get him!” She turned to her men. “Are you missing, or what? Why is he still standing?!”

There was something off. She seemed genuinely confused about why Impact Corpse was still standing. She was unaware about his condition. She was about to learn about it the hard way. Most likely the Order of Mercy had never encountered an undead driven fully mad. Perhaps only Herman Clopton and Terry had reached that point, at least for now.

Impact Corpse smashed into the first operative in a hazmat suit with a punch. His knuckle exploded on contact, obliterating the man and tearing his body apart. One leg went flying and collided with another armed member, who dropped his weapon and reflexively pulled the trigger, accidentally shooting two more of his allies.

Just like that, they were down to four.

The pale woman stood in stunned awe. Her once-spotless snow-white hair and porcelain skin were now flecked with her operatives’ blood.

“Wow. This won’t do,” she muttered, shaking her head slowly. She pulled out her phone and dialed. “I need backup. Like, this instant.”

Impact Corpse surged forward again. Wounds opened and healed as he was attacking the armed men. The remaining Order’s operatives fired desperately. Two were left standing. The monster himself was missing both arms and a leg, but still kept coming while his limbs kept regenerating.

Amidst Impact Corpse’s explosions, something small bounced across the ground near Mioray and Erinel. It clinked softly as it rolled and came to a stop beside them. It was a finger. A slender feminine finger, cleanly severed at the knuckle. Mioray stared at it, breath hitching. The finger shifted, almost unnoticeably. It began to rotate, its proximal phalanges subtly angling itself toward the van, as if trying to point. Mioray reached out carefully and picked it up. Was this how Impact Corpse found the location of the handover? Did he have Mia’s finger acting like a compass?