The road to godhood [Henry and possibly a hero]

"Dein Wille geschehe" Jeramiah said as he pulled out his Feuer Zunge and fired 3 shots at the man. One was aimed for his leg while the other two went straight for his center of mass. "Milady! greifen die Beine, damit ich einen klaren Schuss bekommen können" Jeramiah yelled, his training from so long ago kicking in, though he spoke excellent english, his first language had been german and in such a stressful situation his brain clicked back to what had worked in the past.


((Thy will be done.))

((Milady, grab his legs so I can get a clear shot))

Jeramiah saw the man deflect the bullets with ease and made a note that curvature would be required for this battle. He holstered his Feuer Zunge and pulled out two of his inscribed pistols as Jack ran into Anu's plants, obviously attempting to use them for cover.

Jeramiah did his best to follow Jack with his eyes though it was hard, that man was a speedy bastard, Jeramiah would give him that. finally he caught sight and fired one shot from each pistol, making sure to curve them to avoid his lady's plants. Though he was aiming for Jack's head, he was more likely to get a far less lethal blow with how fast he was.

Jack's decision to run into the small crowd of plant-based warrior-slaves would prove to be a wise one in the end. The creatures hacked and slashed, but their movements could just as well have been in ultra slo-mo when pitted against the amazingness that was Jack Maroon.
To the eye untrained in the martial arts it would seem however as if Jack had found himself in a pickle, and was barely able to dodge these botanic monstrosities. Their attacks were without relent, and Jack seemed to be frantically looking around him, dodging attacks coming from several directions. Moreover, he had only gotten in a few good slashes at first, but now barely struck at all.

Indeed, to the eye untrained, the end result of this skirmish would become obvious to them when both the plant-goddess and the dark marksman launched their attacks at the already occupied swordsman. The woman let loose a seedpod that quickly sprouted into three prongs of unnaturally sharp vines that shot out at the Jack-man, sure to pierce whatever came into their way.
The gunman fired two bullets at the warrior, but unlike his earlier 'warning shots', these bullets flew in an unnatural curve, both aimed for the head.
No, any observer would come to the conclusion that this scenario did not bode well for the speedster swordsman, heavily outnumbered, at a disadvantage of range and seemingly outmatched.

Naturally, this conclusion was as false as could be, and once again the untrained eye would prove to be pretty much the worst judge of martial prowess there could be, especially when concerning Jack Maroon.
The vines, he avoided with a perfect side-step that was uncannily similar to those ridiculous maneuvers one saw only in unrealistic over-the top japanese animation films.
Then came the bullets. The first lodged itself into something resembling its intended target, but was made of a different type of biological matter altogether. A strategically placed plantman had its head slammed right into the bullet's trajectory, prematurely ending the bullet's journey.
Its brother did not fare any better, and was swiped out of the air by Jack's trusty blade Testament. By now, it would be apparent to even the most simpleminded spectator, if there were actually even one watching the show, that scenarios such as these were but a trivial concern to Jack Maroon.

He had used the plantmen as cover, and while dodging their attacks, had kept a close eye on his true adversaries' movements. He had taken care to let the plantmen position themselves in such a way that Jack did not lose his footing, and could easily maneuver his way through the small forest of plant-puppets that surrounded him.
When his opponents' rounds were over, Jack released his faked face of exertion and smiled his cocky grin again.
Without warning, he accelerated his movements and began to cut his way through the plantmen as if they were but rag dolls made of wet tissue paper. At first he seemed almost to simply walk his way through, even though his movement was far too fast to be likened to walking. But once a path had been cleared, which was rather soon, his speed again rose exponentially as he dashed towards the gunner.

His attention was focused almost solely on this opponent now; through his mirrored sunglasses Jack sharply observed every single movement the gunman would and could move. He hadn't really planned exactly what he would do to him when he reached him, but chances were that it wouldn't be very pretty for the guy.

(OOC: Apologies for the delay. Tried to give Jack a little moment of awesome here. Going to try give him a few more of these to soften the blow of defeat eventually.)

Jeramiah knew he wasn't going to be able to dodge, the man was too fast, and he was coming at him wielding a blade that was sharp enough to take his head off. Jeramiah smiled in a moment of grim humor and whipped out his Feuer Zunge, the light of the sun glinting off of its nickel finish. The man was already upon him leaving Jeramiah no time to think.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, pulling the trigger in a moment of panic, the man only mere inches from him. He remembered the wound Swordsmaster had given him and he wasn't too keen on getting hit by another sword strike. He doubted he'd hit him even at this range, but he hoped the man would try to dodge reflexively.

Jeramiah had tried to fire a Fenrir shell at point blank, even knowing that the creature's fire could burn him as well, but it was not meant to be as the swordsman, Jack Maroon was too fast. The shell had collided with his blade before even leaving the barrel, the howl of the wolf inside barely a whisper as its soul exploded violently outwards in a flurry of hellish black flame. The pain was immense, but far from the worst part. Everything seemed to go in slow motion as Jeramiah watched Feuer Zunge melt and twist in his hand, he saw them. He saw the faces of the 10 of members of The Freischutz all staring at him. A cold hatred filled their eyes, the accusing glare emanating from every set burned directly into him and hurt more then all the fire that had consumed him. His world went black, all he saw were the bodies. Each and every one, surrounding him, and the monstrous demon that had taken his comrade's souls loomed over all of them. From the bodies, the first to stand were the 10, they all stared at him. Their faces slowly contorted and began to rot away along with the flesh on their bodies. Then more stood up, and more, and more. This continued for what felt like hours until only two bodies remained.

"No" Jeramiah wheezed, his voice hoarse, whether from the fire had been caught in or from his own grief, he wasn't sure.

As the beings stood up he saw them. His wife and daughter. His wife Veronica walked over to and embraced him, his daughter, Erica, reached him only moments after. He sat there in their embrace and began to cry.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, If I could take it back I would! Please, please forgive me!" he yelled, his voice a hoarse cracking mess. "Please..." he gasped as his wife's warm embrace turned into a pair of icy cold hands around his neck. He looked up at her and she was smiling. A psychotic grin stretched across her face as it mutated into something out of hell itself. "You sacrificed us for your own gain, now we're here for our revenge!" she screeched out, her voice like a banshee. Jeramiah looked down at his daughter, her innocent child like grin gone, replaced by an expression of pure rage and seething hatred. He went limp, he deserved this. He deserved to die and go to hell for what he'd done. "I'm sorry" he said, his voice little more then a hoarse whisper, growing softer as he felt the life drain out of him. As everything went black he heard screams. he opened his eyes and the thing that was his wife was screaming, her hands no longer around his neck. He looked over and the Erica-thing was screaming too. They screamed and yelled as they began to melt. The Erica-thing ran over and grabbed his shirt. "Daddy, don't let me die again! I don't want to die again!" The thing screamed as is turned into a pool of red and black...

Jeramiah coughed and opened his eyes again, expecting to see fire all around him, it was the hell he deserved... but instead. All he saw was red hair, glistening in the artificial light of the room he was in. His eyes hurt and his breaths were like sucking in sulfur, but there was a taste in his mouth... curry? that's what it tasted like, but it felt smoother. "M-M'lady?" he wheezed, his throat burned and his vocal cords barely working. "M'lady... where are we...?" he gasped out, he was barely conscious, barely alive, and all his strength went into asking that question.

Jeramiah's vision was hazy and disjointed. Whenever he blinked he was in a different place. One blink, in the hospital, another and he back in the blackness watching his daughter melt before his very eyes. He looked around at the bodies of the men, the doctors. When he closed his eyes again the doctors were there too, they were in the background rotting away. His whole body hurt, the only reason he was moving was because of the vines Anu had used to support him, and even then it was more of a shuffling, limping gait. His eyes burned as he walked out into the sunlight through the hole Anu made.

When he blinked he could still see the light through his singed eyelids. Jeramiah looked down and saw he was bleeding profusely. It wasn't easy considering how badly burned he was, you could barely tell the difference between his flesh and his blood. Jeramiah looked back up. He heard sirens, like those he heard at the mansion when he escaped. Jeramiah felt like collapsing, his vision was getting worse, all he could do was keep walking.

Jeramiah hacked and coughed as he got into the passenger seat of the car, he was dying, and he knew it. He'd lived 400 years and he was on the verge of dying. Not how I imagined going out, hacking and coughing up my own guts in a steel trap... he thought. He looked over at Anu, a numbness setting in. Perhaps it was that liquid she poured down his throat but the pain was starting to fade, he tried to speak, couldn't. Jeramiah's head hurt badly, it was hard to think. Especially since whenever he closed his eyes, he saw his wife and daughter melting before his eyes. He coughed again before forcing out a few words. "So... your name's Elisia... pretty" he said before falling into unconsciousness.