Death In a Suit
LOCATION: SYSTEM DUEL ZONE – PROXY 4 ENGAGED
COUNTDOWN TO FINAL CLASH: 5 Days, 14 Hours, 33 Minutes
ENEMY: Proxy #4 — MR. BONES
STATUS: HOSTILE
REWARDS: +8,000 STYLE / UNKNOWN DATA KEY / FEAR PERK?
---
He stepped out of the mist like a corpse on payday.
Mr. Bones.
Three-piece suit — bone white, literally. Skulls lined the cuffs. Spinal cord necktie. No skin. No eyes. Just teeth.
A hundred of them. All smiling.
He didn't talk.
Didn't blink.
Just existed like someone programmed a serial killer into a mannequin.
He stopped five steps away from me. Head tilted.
Then mimed blowing me a kiss.
Then slit his own throat with a fingertip.
Crack. Splurt. Snap.
Blood sprayed.
Then vanished.
His neck? Already sealing shut like nothing happened.
> ⚠️ SYSTEM ALERT: INSANE HEALING DETECTED
❌ HEADSHOTS: USELESS
💀 VIBES: DEEPLY UNSETTLING
STRATEGY: ????
I raised my gun. "I hate this guy."
---
He moved.
No footsteps. No warning.
Just BAM — elbow in my jaw.
I hit the floor and skidded ten feet, ribs screaming.
> ⚠️ DAMAGE: MODERATE
⚠️ MOBILITY: 66%
❌ DIGNITY: OFFLINE
I rolled just in time to avoid a heel kick that dented the floor where my skull had been.
He bent down, hands twitching like he was playing piano on my corpse-in-progress.
I fired.
Three shots. One hit.
His shoulder exploded.
He laughed — but silently. His whole body shook like death was hilarious.
And the arm?
Regrew.
Instantly.
---
I backed up fast.
"Okay. Cool. I get it. You're undead Deadpool."
He snapped both wrists backward, palms dangling, then charged like a bone storm.
I dodged.
Barely.
He cracked the air with a dozen swipes, each one aiming to carve me like a buffet turkey.
I fired again.
Missed.
He ducked low, then jabbed both fingers into my side.
Pain.
White hot.
I screamed and fell.
> ⚠️ SYSTEM INTEGRITY: 38%
⚠️ STAMINA: BURNING
⚠️ FEAR: HIGH
I coughed blood. "This guy doesn't die. This guy doesn't—"
Then I remembered.
Style points.
I didn't have to kill him normal.
I had to kill him cool.
---
I stood up slowly. "Alright, bony bitch…"
He watched me.
Tilting his head again.
"Let's dance."
---
I sprinted forward, vaulted off a broken beam, spun midair, and fired two shots into his chest — left, then right.
He laughed.
Then I planted a mine on his shoulder and flipped backward.
"Smile."
BOOM.
Half his torso vanished.
Before he could start healing again, I rushed in, grabbed the exposed spine, and jammed my blade up through it like a spike.
Right into the skull.
He froze.
Twitching.
Still smiling.
I leaned close and whispered, "You're not the only one who can play dead."
---
He stared at me.
Then… moved his lips.
"Don't let them turn you into me"
One last smile.
Then the bones crumbled. Turned to dust and gone.
> ✅ ENEMY DEFEATED — PROXY #4: TERMINATED
🧠 FEAR PERK UNLOCKED
🪦 "UNSHAKEABLE" – IMMUNE TO PANIC
☠️ BODY COUNT: 17
STYLE BONUS: +8,000
SYSTEM STABILITY: 85%
Marcus didn't speak at first. Just stared at the spot where Mr. Bones had collapsed into dust.
I stood next to him, silent for once. Bloody. Tired. But alive.
"...That one got to me a little," Marcus finally said, voice low.
I raised an eyebrow. "The creepy bone suit? Or the fact that he healed like Wolverine on crack?"
Marcus shook his head, almost smiling. "No. What he said. End it all."
There was a long pause. Like the air was too heavy for jokes.
"I've seen a lot of killers," Marcus continued. "But that one… he wasn't fighting to win. He was fighting to lose. Like he wanted you to stop him."
I looked away. "Maybe he did."
Marcus turned to me. His eyes softer now. Tired in a way I hadn't noticed before.
"You're changing," Marcus said. "This… thing you're becoming. It's not just about the suit. Or the guns. Or even the name."
I looked at his hands. Still shaking a little. Still stained with blood that wasn't his.
"I didn't ask for this," I muttered.
"Neither did I," Marcus replied. "But here we are."
Another pause.
Then Marcus placed a hand on my shoulder.
"For what it's worth… you're doing better than I thought you would."
I blinked. "Was that… was that a compliment?"
> "Don't get used to it."
I grinned, ruining the moment instantly.
"So does this mean you're proud of me, Dad?"
Marcus groaned and dropped his hand. "And there it is."
"I'm just saying, we've got the whole mentor-trainee thing going, you're emotionally unavailable, I crack jokes to cope—feels very father-son to me."
Marcus was already walking away.
"I should've left you bleeding back there."
I followed, smirking despite the limp in my step.
"You love me."
> "No, I tolerate you because you keep surviving."
---
TO BE CONTINUED.