Chapter 14: Wrath of the Flesh Rippers

POV: Darot

Location: Flesh Ripper Camp

I watched the stranger disappear into the horizon, my fists clenching tighter with every step he took away from my sight. The moment he vanished, I turned and stormed back into my quarters.

The moment I stepped inside, a horde of my grunts swarmed me, demanding to know what we would do about the man. I ignored their pestering, shoving them aside as I made my way deeper into my chambers. My rage was barely contained, festering like a caged beast within my chest.

The door slammed shut behind me.

*Bang!*

The sound echoed like a war drum as I cast my weapons aside and let my fury consume me. My fists lashed out, striking anything within reach—tables shattered, chairs splintered, the dimly lit oil lamp crashed to the ground, spilling fire across the floor. My vision blurred with rage, my breath came in ragged gasps.

*"Gun Rats…"* The name alone seared my mind like molten iron.

"I have tolerated your impudence long enough!" I roared, my voice shaking the walls. "But you have gone too far—TAKING MY WIFE?! I WILL FLAY YOU ALIVE AND MAKE A FEAST OF YOUR FLESH WHILE YOU STILL DRAW BREATH!"

The words left me in a furious snarl, my throat raw from the intensity.

A knock at the door.

I turned, eyes blazing, the air thick with murderous intent.

*"What is it?"*

The door creaked open, revealing Sirius, his face grim and resolute. His voice carried none of the fear that others would have in this moment.

"Boss, I heard the terms of your deal with that man."

The words sent a fresh wave of fury through me. My lip curled in disdain.

"So what?" I growled, stepping closer. "Have you come to mock me?"

Sirius merely shook his head. "Not at all, Boss. Now that we know where the lady is, we can prepare for a proper assault. Say the word, and we will bring her home."

*Hmph.* I scoffed, spitting to the side. "Then gather the lesser warbands under our banner. If they refuse to answer the call, you know what to do."

I ran a clawed finger across my throat, the meaning clear.

Sirius gave a curt nod, but before he left, I added one final order.

"Tell the warband to prepare. Tonight, we march. We will burn the rats from their nest."

Sirius left swiftly, leaving me alone in my quarters, my anger still smoldering like a forgefire.

---

POV: Sirius

The moment I stepped out of Darot's quarters, my carefully crafted mask of loyalty cracked.

A grotesque smile stretched across my face, far too wide, revealing rows of jagged teeth. Laughter bubbled up from within, barely suppressed, forcing my body to tremble as I struggled to contain it.

As soon as I was clear of the camp, I let it loose. A dry, rasping chuckle spilled from my lips, each breath wracked with glee.

Tears ran down my face as I clutched the heart-shaped locket around my neck, my fingers tracing its familiar surface.

I flipped it open.

Inside, the tiny portraits of my wife and children stared back at me. Their smiling faces—preserved in time, long gone yet never forgotten.

Pressing the locket to my chest, I whispered, "Soon. Soon, I will have my vengeance… and when it is done, I will join you in the Emperor's embrace."

---

Time Skip: Two Days Later

For two days, I moved unseen, sending word to every minor warband under our control. One by one, they rallied to our cause, swelling our numbers to *six hundred strong.*

Now, we marched.

Darot led from the front, his fury unyielding, his presence a beacon of warlust. We carved a path of destruction through the wasteland, slaughtering any who stood before us—human, mutant, it made no difference. The Flesh Rippers were on the warpath, and none would survive our wrath.

At last, the enemy came into sight. The towering walls of the Gun Rats' fortress loomed before us.

A shudder ran through the horde, a rising tide of bloodlust so thick it warped the air itself.

Darot raised his weapons high—the gleaming edge of his warblade in one hand, the shrieking teeth of his chainsaw in the other. His voice rang out, raw with fury.

"Brothers! My wife has been stolen—ripped from me by these *filthy* vermin! The *Gun Rats* cower behind their walls, believing themselves safe! But we are the Flesh Rippers! WE KNOW NO FEAR! FOLLOW ME! WE WILL TAKE BACK WHAT IS MINE AND BATHE IN THEIR BLOOD!"

A deafening roar erupted from the warband.

Then, he turned toward the Gun Rats' fortress and bellowed:

*"RIP THEM TO SHREDS!"*

Six hundred warriors surged forward, chainswords revving, crude blades raised high. A tide of flesh and steel rushed the enemy gates.

I did not follow.

As the wave of carnage broke against the Gun Rats' defenses, I slipped into the shadows, vanishing amidst the chaos.

---

POV: Cannon Pete

Location: Gun Rats' Base

The distant sound of war cries sent a shiver down my spine.

I grabbed my cannon from where it rested beside my cot and stormed out of my quarters.

The camp was in chaos.

Panicked voices filled the air as my subordinates rushed to me, their faces pale beneath the harsh glow of the floodlights.

"Boss! The Flesh Rippers are attacking!"

"They've never launched a full-scale assault before—what the hell changed?!"

"There's *six hundred* of them, boss! We don't have the numbers!"

A cacophony of fear and doubt spread like a plague. I silenced it with a single command.

"Shut your bloody mouths, you spineless wretches!" My voice cracked like a whip, cutting through their panic. "You think numbers alone will break us? Those *savages* fight with rusted blades and brute strength. WE have *guns*, WE have *walls*, and WE have *discipline*!"

Silence.

I raised my cannon and fired a single round into the sky—a signal flare of fire and iron.

"Man the walls! Arm the slaves! Spears and knives for the fodder! Keep those bastards at bay, and when they breach—" I hefted my cannon, a wicked grin splitting my face.

"—we'll see how much meat they have left on their bones after I blast them to *bits*."

And with that, the battle had begun.

Last Chapter Next Chapter