[center][img] http://s33.postimg.org/6nrdrs9a7/IMG_20160610_104224.jpg [/img]
[h1][color=Crimson]Xerxes[/color][/h1][/center]

[list]
Location:
[*] Whats left of the Conomi Islands
[/list]
[list]
Interacting:
[*][@Hillan]
[*][@NachoBachoPacho]
[*][@Dragonmancer]
[*][@Pacifista]
[*][@Ira]
[/list]

[hr]

[color=Crimson]"See, now your Ensign gets defensive, funny how that is."[/color] Xerxes proclaimed. He was in effect, 'stirring the pot', what did he care of Johnny's secret. Smoke man would have to live with the fact that Xerxes knew who he was, no matter how little it affected the rest if it was to be found out. 

"This is for all of the men you killed!" 

Xerxes paid no attention to the mans words, only if the Marine knew of the sheer number of people he had offended in just 4 years or so.

Suddenly, there was the most incredible, shocking impact one could ever imagine–equivalent with having a quarter stick of dynamite go off in your shirt pocket. Xerxes was instantly sent reeling. He felt as if he was thrown back a good 2-to-5 feet or more, as his legs gave out from under him. There was simultaneously, a feeling like a bomb went off INSIDE of his chest, and that of being jack-hammered through his chest wall–all of this, all at once. Then, everything seemed to go into slow motion, as undoubtedly, a large amount of adrenaline was released from his adrenal medulla, causing his central nervous system synapses to fire faster–like a high-speed camera, producing a slow motion effect. 

As if he could see it, he felt the bullet ricochet around in his chest like a pinball, first penetrating his entire chest mass, fracture and bounce off his left scapula, hurl back through his chest again, fracture a rib, and then bounce back through, trace a path around another rib and dissolve. Feeling all of this, all at once, was equivalent roughly, to being shot three times or more, not to mention that waves of parenthesis (tingling) echoed and serged throughout his body. 

Finally, laying on the ground in that room, only a good 30 seconds or so post-impact, he felt his lungs begin to squeeze, his breaths short and agonizingly painful. Every breath was a knife turning in his lung. Then, he began to loose his vision–like white-out erasing his visual field as he began to go into hypo-polemic shock. 

Just as the pain began, it started to diminished somewhat, undoubtedly, to endorphin release, and the hardening if his chest muscles to stop the bleeding. The feeling of warm blood pouring down his shirt, and adding  the pool of blood underneath his, sent his mind spiraling. The coppery, metallic taste of blood overwhelmed his palette as he began to laugh uncontrollably. He took an unusual pleasure in the pain blossoming in his chest.

He suddenly stopped when he heard Marxo. [i]Da fuck.[/i] Xerxes thought to himself. Using his handcuffs, which was in front of him he pulled down his mask, genuinely surprised. [color=Crimson]"Thought you knew a guy."[/color] he chuckled looking at the marines around him, who were just as surprised. [color=Crimson]"Can you believe this Jackal?"[/color] he began as he burst out laughing. Whether Marxo was about to betray them or help them, it was the greatest double crossing scheme he had ever seen. He had been with Maxro for months and bam, he is a what? A marine. The pain in his chest was nothing compared to the unusual feeling of betrayal, it threw into a frenzy of blood lust and excitement. 

[color=Crimson]"And I thought I was evil."[/color] he said dead serious.