Chapter 28: The Mantis Stalks the Cicada Unaware of the Oriole Behind

Avery's vision swam as he sized up the Butcher. This was a whole new ballgame. Gone was the nimble fighter from before – now Rex looked ready to bulldoze through a brick wall. Bad timing, considering Avery was fighting just to stay conscious.

"Sweet axe!" Edward chirped, eyes sparkling. "Dibs on taking it home as a souvenir!"

"Be my guest," Rex growled, "if you can pry it from my cold, dead hands."

The air crackled with tension. Even happy-go-lucky Edward's grin faded, replaced by an uncharacteristically serious look.

Avery's mind assessed their odds. On paper, two-against-one should be in their favor. Reality? One of them (him) was running on fumes, while the other (Edward) had all the subtlety of a cartoon character with a hammer.

Still, Avery hadn't earned his reputation as the "King of the Night" for nothing. He'd faced worse odds before. Everyone had a weakness – even mountain-sized psychos with giant axes.

The poison burned through his veins, but Avery forced himself to focus. There had to be a way out of this mess. He just had to find it before his body gave out completely.

"Got any bright ideas?" he muttered to Edward.

"Tons!" Edward beamed. "But they mostly involve juggling chainsaws, so maybe we should stick to your plan."

Avery groaned. Some backup.

"Edward, those arrowheads – throw them!" Avery pointed to the deadly litter scattered across the floor. Who'd have thought their enemy's weapons would become their lifeline?

Edward grinned, scooping up a handful. "Comin' right up!"

As Edward unleashed his makeshift assault, Avery melted into the shadows. Taking on the Butcher head-on in his condition would be suicide. Time to fall back on his assassin instincts. Darkness was his playground, after all.

"Ave! Don't you dare ditch me!" Edward's voice rang out.

The Butcher's lips curled into a sneer. "Looks like your buddy Enigma cut and run."

But Rex's eyes darted warily around the room. He knew better than to let his guard down. The look in Avery's eyes before he vanished – that was the look of a man with nothing left to lose.

"No way!" Edward shot back, unleashing another barrage of projectiles. "Ave's not the abandoning type. We're partners!"

As Edward kept the Butcher distracted, Avery waited for that chance to turn the tables before the poison won.

Just as Edward's projectiles were about to hit, the Butcher swung his massive axe. 

WHAM! 

It struck the ground, sending a shockwave that kicked up rocks and dust. The arrowheads lost their momentum, harmlessly clattering to the floor.

But then – a sharp sting!

The Butcher's eyes widened. There, embedded in his skin, was one of his own poisoned arrowheads. How?! He was dead certain he'd blocked everything Edward threw.

He thought of the reason behind this. Of course – Avery! The sneaky bastard must've been waiting in the shadows, timing his strike perfectly with Edward's distraction.

In the world of martial arts, some might call it a coward's move. But this wasn't some honorable duel. This was life or death, and Avery was fighting with everything he had.

The Butcher gritted his teeth. He had to take one of them down fast, or he'd be a sitting duck for Avery's next sneak attack.

His gaze locked onto Edward. The kid was good, but he lacked Avery's experience. If he could just –

A flicker of movement in his peripheral vision made the Butcher tense. Round two was about to begin.

The Butcher lunged, his massive axe whistling through the air straight at Edward. Metal screeched as Edward's scimitar met the blow, but the force nearly numbed his arm. One thing was clear – he couldn't keep this up for long before his wrist gave out.

From the shadows, Avery watched. Cold calculation flickered in his eyes. If Edward bit the dust? Well, that was one less complication. Avery had his own dreams to chase – a life free from all this death and chaos. And after everything he'd been through in his past life? He didn't care what – or who – had to be sacrificed to make it happen.

The Butcher pressed his advantage. Edward's guard slipped, his scimitar barely deflecting the blow. The Butcher grinned, readying a killing strike –

SLASH!

A blade kissed the Butcher's throat. He jerked back, but not quite fast enough. Blood trickled from the shallow cut.

There stood Avery, daisho in hand, materializing like a ghost at the perfect moment.

Avery melted back into the shadows, disappointment etched on his face. That attack was so close, yet not enough.

Edward's laughter rang out, half-muffled by his hand. "Ooh, he almost had you there!"

"Almost doesn't cut it, kid," the Butcher growled. "Let's see what happens first – you two taking me down, or me putting you both six feet under."

Hidden in the darkness, Avery keeps his focus high. He'd hoped the poisoned arrowhead would slow the Butcher down, but the guy showed no signs of weakness. Was he just that tough, or was he faking it? Was he immune to his own poison?

The clock was ticking. 

Avery needed a solution, fast, before the poison in his own veins won out.

Metal screeched against metal as Edward and the Butcher clashed again. Blood trickled down Edward's arms, his hands taking a beating from the relentless assault. At first, he'd wielded the scimitar one-handed. Now, he gripped it with both hands, struggling to hold his ground.

Sparks flew with each thunderous impact.

"Ave!" Edward's voice cracked with strain. "If you've got a plan, now would be a really great time! I can't keep this up much longer!"

Avery watched, cold and calculating. He'd wait for the perfect moment – when the Butcher went for his final, devastating blow. Then, like the oriole striking the mantis, he'd make his move.

It happened in a heartbeat. Edward stumbled, barely catching himself. The Butcher saw his chance and lunged. Edward saw the blade of the axe coming for his head.

Now! Avery sprung from the shadows. If Edward fell here, so be it. This was Avery's shot at survival.

But the Butcher's lips curled into a wicked grin. He'd been waiting for this.

The massive axe changed course, hurtling straight at Avery. Time seemed to slow. Avery's eyes widened as he realized his mistake. He wasn't the oriole – he was the cicada, about to be skewered by the mantis.

Is this how it ends? Avery's mind screamed. His second chance at life, cut short before he'd even gotten to truly live?

No. It couldn't end like this. He still had so much left to do, so many experiences he'd been denied in his past life.

Avery's life flashed before his eyes. Just as he was about to accept his fate, a silver blur whizzed past.

THUNK!

The scimitar buried itself in the Butcher's temple. Just like that, the giant's eyes went glassy. The axe, mere inches from Avery's face, lost its momentum. The Butcher's massive frame crumpled to the ground like a puppet with cut strings.

"Nice teamwork, partner!" Edward's voice rang out.

Avery's head whipped around. There stood Edward, grinning despite his mangled hands. Blood dripped steadily from his fingers, two of them bent at sickening angles.

For the second time that night, this bizarre, cheerful killer had saved Avery's skin.

Before Avery could process what just happened, the world started to spin. Right. The poison. How could he have forgotten?

As his vision blurred, one thought echoed in Avery's fading consciousness:

Maybe having a partner wasn't such a bad idea after all.