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Mr. Oz · (05-24-2016)

When Ghost Tank is next seen, he would be in his library, only to stand up, as he finished reading his book, then placing it back into the shelves. He'd see the camera, and who would be holding it, if Alysia weren't holding her as well, Fuzen.

"And this is where Daddy spends his relaxation days. He tries to read at least three books a week, if he can when he's not training."

"Looks like she wants to be a reporter when she grows up, or a camerawoman."

Both of them chuckled,

"She wants to spend time with you, y'know? Instead of you training a lot."

Ghost Tank chuckled, and moved to kiss Alysia and then Fuzen upon their foreheads,

"Seems like your problem, fuck you."

He said in a joking manner, though Alysia didn't look too happy

"She loves to see me."

He brought his left hand to the camera, the right to Fuzen's tiny left hand, grinning slightly

"Besides, Daddy may be rich, but this is fun."

Alysia walked away, shaking her head,

"Don't keep teasing the dragon, Ozzy. One day she'll strike and you'll lose an arm."

"That's why I love you."

They both chuckled, and Fuzen giggled as well.

The video opens up, showing a large warehouse in the night, lit up by just a few floodlights on the outside, with the internal lights on. Across the way, upon the roof of a barn, Ghost Tank eyes the warehouse, taking out binoculars, viewing the people all around the warehouse, guarding it. He'd view the outside, seeing fifteen guards from each of the directions he could see, east and south.

"It's their time. Why else would I be here?"

He said to no one. Though, it was clear he would be talking to those watching the following actions transpire.

Ghost Tank dropped to the ground, picking up his scythe, and rushed towards the guards upon the East side first, where he'd see see four guards in the outside post. He leaped off a nearby crate, twisting sideways in the air, before using his scythe to ease his fall to the ground by cutting open the fence.

This would alert four of them, and they rushed to where the sound was coming from, and they'd meet Ghost Tank, standing there, wearing his skull mask, looking down to the ground. They would yell at him,

"Get down on the ground!"
"GET ON THE FUCKING GROUND!"
"DROP YOUR WEAPON!"
"Do NONE of you notice the giant fucking scythe he has?!"

Ghost Tank turned to face the nearest one, that yelled at him to get down on the ground without the word fucking in it. He moved with the pace of a serpent in grass, striking with his knee to the man's jaw. He then grabbed the one that had yelled at him to drop the ground, and soon shots would be fired, only for the man to take the rounds, and the moment he heard the frantic clicks of the guards happening, Ghost Tank swung his scythe, and the large weapon would slice their heads off in one swift motion, but he was not done, as he gripped the weapon with both hands, and began to carve their standing bodies into five more pieces, leaving them next to one another. He then rushed to the only one living, and as he began to plead for his life, Ghost Tank knelt down, showing no emotion, even as he spoke

"Your life has come to an end. Death has come to collect your wretched souls."

And with that, he stood up, and used all the power within his body to slam a foot into his skulls, making it cause a sickening pop and crack as he destroyed skull and brain.

By now, not just the others from the East knew of what was happening, but the entirety of outside was coming to the East, fifty-six people left. This would be a tougher challenge as opposed to when he fought cops off in Chicago when Frodo raped a mastiff. However, tonight, no one survives.

Ghost Tank grinned, and started with the right wing of eighteen men. He'd start with the wing tip, and rushed him and instead of going for a slice, he sent his scythe threw the midsection and spun around, sending his now gaped body to fly through the air, at the rest, as he used lightning quick speed to spin and begin a beautiful whirl of death, as he spun the scythe around and around, cutting limbs off, and when he saw right and central parts of the group of men were recovering, another sacrifice to his protection is made, as he tosses a body at them, then another and another, to keep them occupied as their comrades bled on them.

He jumped up sending a knee into one guard's nosebone, sending it through his brain from the force, and as he backflipped from one guard, he sent his scythe straight into them, hooking them and slamming them straight into the ground. He rushed through the men, killing twenty-one men thus far. His body and blade coated crimson. He then kicked one guard straight into his stomach, making him collapse onto his knees, only to use him as a step ladder, and jumping onto another's shoulders. He pushed off, and leaped into a high-angled spin, using the scythe for added momentum, causing it to swing faster through the air.

One, two, three, up to six men were killed in the path of his blade. Twenty-seven down. He landed upon the corpse of one man, causing blood to spurt out of the neckhole, like ketchup in a clogged squeeze bottle, and someone forced the liquid out with a hard squeeze.

He began his whirling dirvish, swinging his scythe around with abandon, bringing it around his body as it would rend limbs from their owners, looking like one magnificent blade that spun around. Thirty-eight down. He then sliced through one man booted his upper body into the air, only to jump and roundhouse kick the torso into the living soldiers.

He charged at them, leaping after them, but he wasn't going for a normal attack by leaping, instead any who watched just him, would miss the blade following its owner, holding it by the very edge of the pole, cutting off three heads.

Forty-two. He ran into the others, swinging his knees into their heads, smashing teeth in, only to combo into into a roundhouse knee strike, breaking their necks with the force of the assault. The men that finally thought of using bullets, and had time to react to the quick movements, started to try and fire upon him, only to have Ghost Tank hide and he rushed forward, beginning a train of spear tackling guards, causing the living men to being shot rapidly by friendly fire. Whena few got the bright idea to shoot for his head, he performed a baseball slide, and a few of the now dead soldiers would slide out onto the ground, and the few still alive from his spear were being bear hugged, protecting his head, protecting him unwittingly as their brothers-in-arms to fire into their backs. He brought himself back to his fight, resuming his momentum, and stopped himself while letting go his grip, letting the bodies still in motion to knock into the others.

Twenty-one still alive. Ghost Tank huffed and puffed, but continued on the assault, as the guns begin to click, revealing they were out of ammo. Now was the time to finish them.

Ghost Tank rushed and spun his scythe in his hand as he charge, and began to decapitate man after man, nineteen, seventeen, fifteen, thirteen, the last being three, making ten left.

He slammed his scythe into the guts of two men at the same time, twisted his scythe then pulled it out of their stomachs, and used the back-end of the scythe like a staff, smashing a third's skull into pieces. Seven.

He twist the scythe again, and swung it at the midsections of two more, and showing his fatigue as he almost cleave two more in half, but the second man was only half-way cut apart. He slid the scythe out of his body, and swung the scythe at the remaining five, like a baseball bat swung at full force then let go. Two men escaped the path, the last three weren't so lucky, with two getting their heads cut apart, and the third having his head smashed apart.

Now there were two.

Ghost Tank decided to go for a more direct hands-on approach, getting in close, using his quickness to smash their helmeted heads together, making them disoriented. He put them together, belly to back, then wrapped around the waist of both, and began a chain of devastating german suplexes. He released them both after the eighth, and got up breathing deeply, rapidly. He put them both side-to-side on the ground before backflipping, landing knees first into their chests, caving them in, causing ribs to crack and then squeeze and puncture straight through lungs, and dig into hearts.

Now the fight is over, he stood slowly, admiring the amount of death and destruction he had caused. Only a couple writhed in agony, but he didn't care. They were going to die. Whomever was inside the warehouse, was his main target.

He twirled the scythe about, causing fresh blood to fly through the air, causing some of the blood coating it to fly off.

Now the fun is about to begin.

CanYouHearTheScreams?

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