Lockeroom's Pandemonium

Chapter Twenty Two: The Clone Who Can Change

Silver Cassano heard the vibration of the gun straight towards his head. He felt the bullet penetrating straight to his skull.

But his mind moved faster. It was an impressive move that he casted the skill Shadow Clone on his self, a second before the Lukas decided to pull the trigger of his gun.

His body burst in smoke of shadows, swirling and following the bath where the bullet had rocketed.

Lukas then, despite the shock from what he had witnessed, suddenly jump backwards, wielding two if his gun towards the swirl of black smoke.

He was about to pull the trigger of both of his magma eraser shotgun and dustbringer, when he felt something moving at his back.

It was Silver, finishing his Shadow Step skill. He wielded his whip directly attacked the man who attempted to kill him.

It was then, when he felt the chaos of the Magma Eraser that Lukas has been using as a weapon. The bullet of his shotgun directly met the slashing whip of Silver, causing a sudden explosion of both magma and ember of the fire god.

Silver was forced to retreat, for his body was filled with painful burns coming from the remnants of the exploded magma.

His left arm was sizzling even with the tiniest drops of magma eating his skin. It was painful. He can even start seeing his burnt flesh as he observe his arm.

“Damn this man,” he said. He then whipped the ground. His weapon made a strong impact to the ground, causing it to break and create large mark of cracks.

Lukas then screamed. It was not a scream of pain or horror, but a scream of thrill, excitement and playfulness. Silver then felt something was coming fast at his direction.

He casted a skill; Spring Jump, and sky rocketed above the air, as hundreds of bullets passed through where he stood awhile. From the clump of dark and chaotic smoke, the Lukas he was fighting has revealed himself. Half of his body—the torso, the left arm, and the whole left potion of his face was as well burnt. Yet he was smiling.

“Die! Hahahaha!” He was laughing.

He was dancing, pulling the trigger of his gun, releasing hundreds of bullets towards every direction as his mind went into mode of savagery.

“Die, eh, Weakling! Die Mathilda! You stinky fat woman! Die woman who killed my brothers! Die you bullshit man who knew nothing but to escape from me!” He was raging. His face—the remaining normal part—was furious in red adrenaline. He cannot hide his psychotic smile. Half of it was normal yet dangerously looking, while the other part was a smile of a dead man—burnt skin, back lips, and a white teeth that was about to end from its sitting form the gums.

Silver wanted to attack him. He wanted to end his life. Yet he contemplated.

“What if that man is the real Lukas?” he thought. If ever it was indeed, him, Silver would blame his self for killing another man. He cannot risk his life. No, he cannot.

But isn't playing in this forced game was already a life-risking situation? Any second, they could die. Any second, they could meet Hades of the underworld.

He was in the middle of contemplating, when the Lukas who was fighting him, has spotted him landing from the high jump he made.

Then it smiled to him. Without hesitation, he pointed the gun, and pulled the trigger.

He regretted his earlier contemplation. In this game, hesitations and the view of humanism does not exist. Only the instinct of survival.

Now, because of his weakness, he was about to suffer death. A miserable one.

Then a burning weapon suddenly whipped literally few centimeters away of his face. The bullets exploded, and the magma too. The force of the explosion had cause his body to lose its balance, then gravely fall on the battleground were rocks and boulders were cluttered. The sharp edges of the boulder had pierced his back, causing him to have a big, open wound. Yet, he did his best to stand up. He did his best to remain alert, to remain alive—even though his vision is fuzzy, and is turning black.

As he stood, vegetative in state, he focused his vision to the direction were Lukas was standing.

He then saw two silhouettes. One is of the body of Lukas—now headless—and one is a body similar to his feature. A clone of himself, of Silver.

He was holding the body of Lukas who was now creepily shaking as blood from his headless neck continuously spurted. The head of Lukas, however, was held by the other arm of clone Silver who does not hold the shaking body.

Silver was shocked. He cannot believe that his clone is more skillful and more brutal than him. He was saved by it, and at the same time, killed the clever gunslinger.

The clone then looked at him, stared straight towards his eye. His eyes screamed coldness and shrilling presence.

Then he said, “Why would you contemplate killing someone if that is the rule of this whole game. Kill.”

He cannot believe it was his clone. He cannot believe that he is possessing that kind of personality—someone who would not hesitate to kill.

Then the clone threw the headless body. He turned his back to the real Silver.

“Wait!”

Yet another surprise caused Silver to stop and blink out of disbelief. The clone awhile ago, he was sure, that it was him. That it was his features.

Yet, the one who is walking away of him was no way a clone of Silver. But a clone of Yohanna. The dress, the wand, the shape of the body—everything was fitted to the physicality of Yohanna.

But it was just him awhile ago. Why does it suddenly changed from being Silver to being Yohanna.

Then, something snapped at Silver's mind. He realized that it wasn't a normal clone.

But a clone where Gorgon's head could be found.