"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6..." All the way up to 60 he counted, then back to 1 again. This had been how Isaac had spent his time in the jail, his way of not going mad, but also keeping track of how much time in the outside world had passed. He was fed twice a day, one in the morning at nine o'clock, and then once again for dinner at seven. He was never permitted to leave his cell though, having to eat, sleep, and do the toilet all within its confines. Honestly, the first day had been the worst, from the moment after he had been captured to the end of that night. Isaac hadn't slept, he had been up thinking about how many different ways he could kill that bastard Wan, the so-called 'Grandmaster' of the Wan dojo, the prick. He was the reason Isaac was currently in this jail cell. After putting him up with a job to steal a ruby, a simple enough task if anything, and one Isaac had been able to complete almost flawlessly with the exception of not taking into the account how annoying and how much he disliked martial arts experts, with their tendencies to sleep extremely light or with one eye open, it was all very ridiculous in the young Skypiean's mind. But after stealing the ruby, surviving a few days out in the wild plains of Karate Island with the plainsmen and women, he had returned to his employer to gain his reward, only to be met with deceit and betrayal at his hands. Wan had set up Isaac, wanting him to steal the ruby just so he had a reason to be locked up behind bars. Karate Island hated its foreigners, especially someone who used firearms like Isaac did, but to put him up to a task just so he could be arrested, that seemed a bit far-fetched even for them.

The first day had indeed been the worst, from the moment Isaac had been locked away he had wanted to get out. He was a Skypiean, the name of his race screamed freedom. He had wings for crying out loud. Being locked up was no place for a Skypiean, and it almost caused Isaac to lose his mind. In fact, he was found the next morning curled up in a ball in a corner of his cell, drooling from the mouth and muttering incoherent nonsense. Luckily, throughout that second day, he had managed to fill his mind with something else, something he desired more than his freedom at that moment: the chance to kill Wan. It was Wan that had put Isaac in this prison cell, Wan that had set him up, Wan that had caused him to almost lose his mind, everything wrong with Isaac's world right now was because of Wan, and Wan had to atone for his sins.

On the third day, Isaac felt like it was time, time to be free once more, time to get his revenge. He waited until nin o'clock in the morning, when the guard arrived to give Isaac his morning breakfast. Isaac had flown up into the shadows of the cell and so, when the guard came to check up on him, he found the cell empty, as if nothing had lived there for the past three days. He ran into the cell, hoping to find out what had happened, which was when Isaac dropped, falling on top of the man, and grabbing his head by the hairs. As well as pulling out most of his hair, Isaac smashed the poor man's head against the solid stone ground until he heard a very satisfying and repulsive crack sound, and saw the blood pour out of the man's skull. Taking a few moments, Isaac said a prayer for the man, hoping his soul foudn its rest, before leaving the prison, grabbing his guns and avoiding the guards along the way. And then, after a few minutes of finding his way, he was out, free once more, and hungry for revenge. All he had to do now was find Wan's dojo, then the real fun would begin.

After a few minutes of getting his bearings, Isaac set off from the prison. His destination: Wan’s dojo for the gifted individual and gifted was just another one of the words used to describe Isaac. He could fly, he could shoot and, most importantly, he could kill. Holstered on his left side was Tweedledee: his flintlock pistol, now loaded, which was almost crying for Isaac to use it. It did not have to worry, by the time the sun had set and the moon had risen, it would have seen all the bloodshed it needed for the month. Tweedledee was, out of the brother’s of Dum and Dee, the rasher of the two, being quick to fire, and always wanting to kill somebody, no matter who they were, or whether or not they were even an enemy. Tweedledum, the eldest of the two on the other hand, was a lot more cautious than his reckless younger brother. Dum was quiet, without a temper, and quick to kill. Unlike his brother though, Dum was quick to kill in the sense of it would only take one shot to fell the target, regardless of who that target was. Dum was bigger, more accurate, and deadly at long range. However, he would not be needed this day, and so he would remain strapped to Isaac’s back for the rest of the encounter, unless he took it off. He was not to be used, as Isaac wanted everyone to know who was doing this deed, and Dee was second to none when it came to putting on a show. Painting a picture of blood and writing a melody in screams: that was what drove Tweedledum, and that was exactly what Isaac intended for Wan, but sadly not only Wan.

As he arrived at the dojo, the old, simple sign now replaced by a flamboyant, arrogant lit piece of nonsense, that Isaac decided not to even bother looking at. After all, standing directly under the sign, were ten disciples of Wan, having obviously heard the news about the jailbreak. They all wore white gi’s with red belts tied around their waists. All big and muscly, all like a rhino before Isaac. Ten rhinos, all ready to charge at full speed directly at their enemy. Now, this time it was not going to be the same as before. On the second day in prison, Isaac had not only prepared his mind with thoughts on how best to dispatch his foes and kill his enemy, he had also prepared physically, training his body for what was to come. Obviously he was nowhere near the strength of the students before him, who had been training their entire lives to fight endless hordes of foes, but that did not matter much to Isaac. The pupils, all ten of them, strong of body and will, had trained for decades to fight other martial artists like themselves, other strong, well trained men and women. But Isaac? He had spent one day, one day learning to defeat only one thing, and one thing only. Them.

He began with a taunt, shouting at them and disgracing their master. If there was one thing he knew about disciples of great martial artists: the one thing they hated the most was any dishonour being cast upon their master. So naturally, when Isaac: a young, scrawny, weakling was disgracing their large and powerful master, they weren’t too pleased. The first one ran at Isaac, ignoring his allies and the help they could provide, and instead focussed on getting in fast, and finishing the job which was commendable, as Isaac was here to do the exact same thing. However, Isaac was a little bit more prepared, and although he wasn’t physically fast enough, he had more than enough time to pull his gun out, already loaded, aim it right at the martial artists head and, at the moment he got close enough, fired. The bullet sailed true, piercing through the man’s flesh, but stopping before his skull. However, the blood loss was more than enough to drop him. And thus, the first man fell.

The next five minutes were all similar, as the martial artists fell. After the first came two more, both of whom Isaac shot much like the first. The second of the two was able to get an attack in, punching Isaac in the stomach, winding him, before the newly loaded gun fired once more, ending his life. Isaac then needed a moment to catch his breath, but one did not come, as three more then ran at him, having obviously noticed he could only fire two shots before needing to reload. Isaac needed a moment, so he ripped his shirt off, and took to the skies, catching the much needed breath, and taking out the three men from the air, which left four men. And, as the pattern went, all four of them ran at Isaac, but with more control this time. They jumped, using the power in their legs to propel themselves just high enough in the air to catch Isaac’s foot and pull him down. The one who had grabbed his legs was dead before he reached the ground, but he had accomplished his mission, and the last remaining three martial artists surrounded him. He blocked an attack from the side with his gun, and another with his free arm, but he couldn’t stop the kick that came to his head, knocking a few teeth out and causing him to spit blood. The men all looked at each other for one moment, one in front and the other two behind, and in that moment they spelled their own demise. Using his wings to grant him a little more speed, Isaac propelled himself straight forwards, gliding mere inches from the ground, as he grabbed one of the men by the face and pulled him down to the ground, using his own weight against him, and using that same momentum to roll over him, firing his pistol at the other two men behind him, killing them before they had even moved. And as for the one on the ground? One final reload and bullet to the back of the head was enough to silence him forever. His mouth was bleeding, his vision a little fuzzy, and his breath had gone from his body, but he had survived. All that was left, was one more foe.

Wan.

The interior of the dojo was just as Isaac remembered: with no reception area, a simple changing room for the students, a cafeteria and a few other sorts. Thing was, none of it really mattered. After Isaac was finished, nothing was going to be left standing of the grand dojo, that much was a certainty. And either way, who needed changing rooms, bedrooms and a cafeteria, if all the students were dead? Before reaching the office of Wan, where he knew the man was waiting for him, Isaac paid a stop to the small garden located in the very middle of the dojo. There, as he remembered, was a small shrine to some unknown God, which was exactly what isaac was needing. He went to the garden, found the shrine, and sat before it, bowing his head and closing his eyes, offering up a prayer to the Gods. He offered a prayer to his God, to the God of Death, of Life, of love, and to all those Gods whom he had never heard of or experienced before. He prayed to them all, and hoped they all would hear him as he did so. To all of you up there who hear me, I humbly thank you for this time. I wish to confess my sins, for those I have commited, and for those I have yet to commit this day. The men I have killed this day number eleven, and for each one I pray you carry their souls with you and guide them on their way to Paradise, Eden, Heaven, wherever the destination. And now, later this very day, I will commit two more people to die. The first, a man named Wan, a martial artist. And secondly, his brother Wu, whom I will also be taking the life of. Both of these men own dojos: schools to a martial art, and I plan on burning both of them down. The men I have killed previously, I ask you to take them to Paradise, but these two men, these men who wronged me, I request their sentence be the Inferno, Hell, Tartarus. I request that these men, whom I am killing as payment, be judged for their actions. The men that came before did not deserve to die, but they had to. I thank you now, old Gods and new, for allowing me to commune with you. Peace be with you all.

With that out of the way, Isaac decided it was time. He walked to the large doors that hid behind them a martial artist. Right behind these doors was Wan, and Wan was ready. Isaac walked up to the doors, knowing there was no reason to slowly open them, as Wan knew he was coming, so Isaac instead decided to simply kick the door open from a distance, revealing Wan to be right in front of the door, just a few feet back, ready and waiting. There was a moment between them, where they exchanged thoughts as opposed to words. They both knew the terms of this fight: only one of them was going to survive it, and Isaac was going to make sure that it was him.

Wan made the first move, dashing towards Isaac, hoping to land an early right hook, but luckily Isaac saw him coming, and swiftly ducked under the attack, which was when he noticed the brass knuckles Wan had equipped. Any one punch from him was going to be nasty, and Isaac had to make sure he avoided them if he could. As he ducked under the punch, he brought his gun out, and fired a shot off at Wan's arm, hoping to weaken any punches from that arm. Isaac knew one shot to the head was not going to be enough this time, he was going to have to try harder than that. Much harder. Wan was not a simple grunt, he was no student, he was the master. The shot did nothign but anger the master even more than he already was, which caused him to bring a knee up to Isaac's stomach, causing sever pain and quite possibly breaking a rib or two. The force from the knee instantly knocked Isaac back, and he fell to the ground, bones broken and breath gone from him. He was able to fire one shot before needing to reload, and that was when Wan struck. The second shot had hit him in his other shoulder from the last, but the right hook to the jaw still hurt, instantly crushing Isaac's jaw, causing him to spit out more blood than earlier, and Wan did not finish, as he grabbed Isaac's left arm and, with a quick movement of his arms, broke it. The snap was all Isaac needed to hear to understand how difficult this battle was going to be. He used his wings to fly up into the rafters, where luckily Wan could not reach. Isaac needed a new plan, some way to beat Wan without suffering much more damage. He couldn't feel his left arm, there was blood pouring from his jaw into his mouth, requiring him to spit some out every few minutes: most of it spat at Wan, and he had only just regained his breath, but breathing in itself was a struggle. Which is when Isaac decided on what to do. Bringing out Tweedledee, his trusty rifle, he prepared himself for what was to come. He dashed down to Wan and then, when he got close enough, kicked his rifle towards him, with the sling wrapping round his arm to stop him, just for a moment. And that was all Isaac needed. Having reloaded his pistol in the rafters, he stood directly in front of Wan, gun raised to each of the man's eyeballs and with, a quick bang bang, the man fell to the ground, dead. Finally.

Now it was all complete, after three days of waiting in jail for the right moment, Wan was dead. It had now been a week since Isaac had arrived in the town, one week since he had been uncomfortable at their glares, one week since he had first met Wan. And now, after one simple week, everything had changed. His once employer Wan, now dead at his feet. the town that had once been disgusted by his presence were about to fear him. And those glares that had made him so uncomfortable at the beginning? Well now he was going to revel in them, revel in the people that were about to witness his masterpiece. Having sprinkled the entire dojo, which was mostly made of wood, with some alcohol found in Wan's office, Isaac had readied himself, and was about to announce to the world who he was. Holding a match in his hand, hovering just above the dojo, Wan looked down at the people there, some of whom had noticed him, most had not. However, they were all about to see him. He dropped the match, letting it fall and light the first piece of wood. And from that, another was lit, and so on and so on until, a mere few seconds later, the dojo was a towering inferno, rising high into the sky. No one was alive within anymore, Isaac had made sure of that, and he now he flew down to the square, where horrified gatherers were watching, eyes wide, mouth agape at what they were baring witness to. And that was when Isaac decided to speak.

 

"Can't you hear them? The screams of anguish of all the souls who went to this dojo? The pained souls of the dead. Can you imagine how they must be feeling right now? People of Karate Island, I am Icarus, and this", almost as if on cue the alcohol must've lit, causing a large explosion. Right at the perfect moment too. "is what happens to those who wrong me. Grandmaster Wan wronged me, and now he is dead, and currently burning. If I see one more person glaring at me in anger simply because of who I am, this inferno will be repeated all over this pathetic village. And now, for my next trick..." Down within the crowd, he could see Grandmaster Wu of the Wu dojo, Wan's brother and another man who had wronged Isaac. The Skypiean flew down towards the poor man, lifted him up, up, up above the inferno, and looked down at the crowd. From this height, they could not hear him, but that did not matter. they did not need to hear his words, they only needed to see what he was about to. His actions would speak louder than any word he could speak, which was difficult with his wounds. He looked at Wu, dangling there, whimpering as he knew what was to come. Isaac could hear him praying, hoping for someone or something to save him. Some divine intervention. Isaac looked down at him, smiled and spoke.

 

"Sorry my friend, I already told them you were on your way. They aren't going to help you. Say hi to them from me though, would you?"

 

With those words, Isaac released his grip, letting Wu fall into the flames. His screams pierced the crowd, instantly silencing them, and they stayed silent for the duration of his death, which was slow and painful, lasting around ten or so minutes. And once he was dead, Isaac flew to the crowd, looking at them as they all looked back and absorbed every detail of this man. And the young Skypiean smiled at them, and spoke three words before flying off into the wilds of Karate Island. Three words.

 

"I am Icarus"