"Sionis, I'm disappointed" said Pistol, getting up and walking around the table to look down at the man. "Maybe its because I'm a woman, maybe its because you don't know me well enough, or maybe... maybe you're just too f***ing proud. You're asking me to kill the head of the Marcone Family, that I cannot do. Not from the way you've asked."
Pushing his chair back he stood up towering over Pistol. He grabbed his guns off the desk and slotted them back into his holster. That man took my empire. He will die, with or without your help. Turning around he headed out of the office pushing a henchman to one side. As he passed through the door he stopped and muttered. Keep the knife.
As the door shuts after Sionis, the figure of a woman rose out from a dark shadow in the far corner of the office. Falcon Blitz, twin sister to the notorious Pistol catwalked across to the table.
"I think we've upset another one" she said, "Alicia you are not very nice to your fellow neighbours-"
"We're not murderers, despite what that carpenter says" Pistol interjected. "Give this one to Tommy Furr"
The Masquerade
[Steel towers rise up out of a fog of hot neon. The night sky is heavy with turbulent clouds. A powerful searchlight beam shines over a Marcone compound. People flooding the grounds as if a big event were happening. Up on the rooftops, there is a sense of feverish heat. The city is contained by it and the sky steals it in, like the lid of a pressure cooker. Sionis stands on the edge of a building, a ragged silhouette, dwarfed by the searchlight behind him.]
Kneeling down and grasping the searchlight cables Sionis turns to one his men. Between the idea and the reality, between the motion and the act. He pulls on the cables snapping them in half. Falls the Shadow. The searchlight powers down cloaking the street in darkness.
Is this a wise idea sir, I mean after what Don Barzini said. The thug looked nervous both about the mission and questioning Sionis. Standing to his feet Sionis grabbed the thug around the neck and held him over the edge.
Give me a reason not to drop you right now. Sionis growled through the mask.
I... before the thug could even open his mouth Sionis let go of his grip sending the man plummeting towards the concrete bed.
You, youre coming with me. Tossing a pistol towards a thug whos jaw was on the floor. Weve got a party to crash.
The Kidnapping
As the lights went out, the darkness befell the night. Guards around the Marcone mansions ran around frantically looking for temporary sources of light. The party crowd ran about the grounds nervously, blindly searching for one and another. People triped on objects, others trod on the fallen like an aimless stampeed. It was utter chaos.
A young woman, dark hair and fair skin managed to escape the paniced crowd and raced across the fields towards a small beach house. She struggled to carry her long flowing red dress above the ground, struggled to run in her high heels, struggled to see through the beautifully carved wooden mask across her eyes. Yet, through sweat and blood she reached the small house on the beach and without hesitation hid inside. She pulled out a cellphone and dialed her husband, panting.
"Tony, whats happening? All the lights have gone out!" she whispered. "Don't tell me this is another hit, you said the Families were at peace. Why can't I just have a happy birthday for once in my life?"
Suddenly, at the corner of her eyes, Tony Marcone's wife saw something move in the dark.
"Oh my god, Tony someone's in here with me, please hurry. I came into the beach house, like you told me to" she whispered, fear eating away at her words. She thought she heard something behind her, like a silent whisper. Slowly, she turned around to meet a pale white face glaring at her from across the room. Something in the gaze completely held her petrified, her cellphone slipped out of her hands, Tony Marcone could be heard shouting from the other end.
"Barzini... Don Barzini" she muttered, crashing to the ground like a fallen log.
"Sorry" came the replied, "wrong twin"
Two guards stood at the front gate waving their flashlights at people passing the grounds. Not really taking any pride in their job they started messing about shining the light in each others eyes.
Hah got ya, said one of the guards as he got a bright light waved in front of his face. Ah ya son of a
I cant see S***. The sound of crushing bone was heard over the panic of the party. Heh, damn. What was that, you think someone got trampled in there?
The only reply the guard got was from a cold-scarred voice. Evening
As the guards focus came back into view he saw the masked figure towering over him. Starring down the barrel of a gun he could make out the other guards head crushed between Sionis hand and the concrete pillar behind him. Motioning his henchmen into the party Sionis kept his eyes fixed on the guard at the gate.
You have two choices. You can either die here on the spot or tell me where I can find Marcone's wife.
Without hesitation the guard whimpered, Shes in the beach house on the edge of the cliff, Jesus please dont kill me.
That was easier than I anticipated. He said lowering his gun.
Oh thank you, if theres anythi
a fierce pain in his gut interrupted the guard. Smoked poured from the end of Sionis gun as he kicked the guard to the floor and proceeded into the compound. The guard collapsed into a pool of his own blood. Grasping hold of his radio he tried to make one last desperate call. Get Marcone out, It's Sionis.
The pale faced woman emerged from the beach house dragging Marcon'e wife by her hair. She walks onto the edge of the cliff and dials Sionis cellphone.
"Come on its me Blitz, pick up the phone, I have the target"
Pushing his way through the chaos Sionis picks up his phone.
What
. You? What are you doing here? Confused Sionis stood still in the middle of the panic, people running into him as if he were a brick wall.
Clipped in the shoulder by a stray bullet Sionis dropped the phone. Un phased by the wound he looked up at the gunman, Lashing out at him Sionis pummelled the mans face into the ground until his knuckles were hitting nothing but solid ground. Peering up through his proverbial crimson mask he saw the silhouette of two figures on the cliff side, Marcone He grunted wiping the blood from his face.
"Tommy Furr could'nt make it. I came instead, make sure you don't do anything stupid. Where d'you want the hostage?" asked Blitz, phone in hand.
"She's coming with me." he said, One of his henchmen grabbed the hostage and slung her over his shoulder. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to clear the guests out." Withdrawing two pistols from his coat he turned back around and headed for the compound.
Falcon Blitz merely watched the madman. She waited a short while before disappearing in a whirlwind of smoke and shadow.
Getting to the Back Alley Brawler - Mid-afternoon, Wednessday 18th.
A glowing lump of green lay on a beach, oozing. The afternoon sun burnt at the unconcious body of Spruk, eating away at the layers of rotten flesh.
Far across the ocean, on the horizon, three speedboats shoot across the waters arriving at the beach within seconds. A gang of thugs emerge from the three boats, alighting onto the fine sand of Liberty Isle.
Dressed for the summer in her white vest and tight shorts, Falcon Blitz stepped off the boat and ordered Spruk to be resusitated. The twenty-three year old man coughed up all sorts of maggot-ridden bile as he jumped back to life.
"Falcon Blitz, thanks for coming" he spluttered, climbing to his feet.
"You said the Brawler's here, on Liberty Isle?" asked Blitz.
"Yeah, he's up on the central portico talking with a Longbow Officer. There is a contract on him, issued by Arachnos to Crimson Revenant, the hero hunter. Obviously he knew whoever did the job would take a lot of heat from the Paragon City government, so he passed it to me. I figured the Brawler would be well-guarded. To get to him, we first had to create a distracdtion. I flew to Sharkhead Isle, and stole a number of Cage Consortium explosives.
"Came back in Nerva, and planted them at the Longbow base intended to recieve the Brawler. I made my escape and triggered the explosives, left a blasted mess in my wake" Spruk paused, licking his lips with a mutated tongue the length of a snake. "Now the Back Aley Brawler's welcome was certain to be less secure. They brought him here, to Liberty Isle, they have'nt had the time to muster a new security regiment, but there are a few of them littered around the perimeter. I was shot down from the skies right after I called the Mansion. Falcon, we have to hurry, if they get word to Brawler that the Gang's here for a hit, they'll scram"
"Alright" said Falcon. "But just as my sister would, I too will hold this favour on you"
Falcon's long white hair rose up into the air, her eyes glowed bright white and her face turned pale. Her shadow sprung to life, intensifying into a large void of pure darkness. The evil demoness living within Falcon Blitz had taken over. She turned to her henchmen and barked orders.
"Keep to my shadow, we'll clear the perimeter and isolate the hero. Silence your guns or use melee strikes. Lets go."
One-by-one the guarding Longbows were eliminated under the cover of shadows, some were knived and others were axed. Four enforcers sniped away from range, clearing a path up to the Back Alley Brawler.
The Execution - Afternoon, Wednesday 18th.
[Warning: As usual, this story recap contains scenes of gore and extreme violence. Readers under the age of 15 are advised to discontinue.]
Shadows. Regions of darkness where light is blocked. The demoness within Falcon Blitz was only too well-known for her mastery over darkness and the manipulation of fear. Her name was Madrilene Potter and this was her hour.
It was now late afternoon and on the central portico of Liberty Isle stood the legendary giant known as the Back Alley Brawler, talking with one other Longbow Official. The mission was to capture the hero and deliver him to Arachnos, an Italian fascist group who control the Etoile Islands, dubbed as the city of villains.
"I am very impressed with the work that Longbow is doing here on the Island" said the Brawler, an African-American giant costumed in nothing more than brown jeans, a black vest and two silver gauntlets fitted onto the fists to enhance his energy output.
"Thank you sir, it is an honour to have you here with us today" replied the Longbow Officer, grinning from ear to ear.
"I was kinda disappointed though, we were supposed to meet at a Longbow base of operations" said the Brawler.
"True. On behalf of the group, I must apologi-ahhhh" screamed the Longbow Officer, his words interjected by the sheer pain as pellets of chorosive chemical hit the side of his head, slowly melting away his face. "Ahhh. Its Spruk, security alert, secuurri". His voice trails off as the chemicals sever his jaws skinless, melting the very bone off its hinges like dissolving clay.
In the time it takes to blink, the afternoon skies had eclipsed in shadow. The Back Alley Brawler could only up in amazement. Falcon Blitz had trapped her target in a dome of shadow, no light could enter and nothing was visible.
However one thing was clear, the invading army of Spruk's gang and Falcon's crew stood at one end of the umbrella while the prey stood, petrified in terror at the other.
"Execute him" came the demonic voice of Madrilene Potter.
From the barrels of over twenty guns, bullets flew blindly onto the prey, followed closely by moltovs and explosive clips. The sparks of light as bullets shot out of gun barrels lit up to the darkness like probelights in a cinema, the smell of gunpowder quickly circulated under the sixty-foot wide dome of shadows.
Minutes later the Back Alley Brawler finally fell to his knees, decorated with cuts and bruises. He resembled a chinoise sieve with over a hundred bullets embedded in every muscle, gaping holes across his legs and arms. Yet, the man fought to return to his feet, he struggled in his own pool of blood, slipping and sliding like a pathetic child. Falcon Blitz ordered to seize fire as she lowered her dome of shadows, allowing the bright sunlight back over the portico.
Spruk gently licked his lips in excitement, he was clearly entertained, watching the hero scream in excrutiating pain, struggling in sheer agony to stand on hiw two feet.
Suddenly, two motorcycles came roaring from the direction of the boats. They climbed over the stairs and up the portico to meet the hero. Dismounting, one could notice the daunting size of the bikers, tatooed from head to toe.
"Avalanche, Poison" Falcon Blitz called, "Arachnos are on thier way to collect him, make sure he doesn't move"
The two bikers nodded in acknowlegdement and took position over the hero, who was still struggling to stand.
Brawling the Brawler - Afternoon, Wednesday 18th.
[Warning: Again, the conclusion of this recap contains scenes of gore and extreme violence. Readers under the age of 15 are advised to discontinue.]
The gang began to leave, filing onto the boats in a steady fashion. Suddenly, something unexpected happened. The Back Alley Brawler began to laugh. At first it was quiet, but progressively it turned into an uncomfortable fit.
Spruk and Falcon Blitz quickly returned to the scene, followed closely by four bodygaurds.
"Bunch of psychos, every one of you will rot in hell" the Brawler cursed, knelt over on all fours. "To be honest, I am a little disappointed. New Mafia, a whole syndicate of crimelords, thugs; descendants of the Italian mob." With glorious effort, the Back Alley Brawler leapt to his feet, splashing his own blood across the pavement. "And still, with over thirty of you, you cannot take down one man... one, man."
His words hit a nerve. His gaze met with Falcon's and they locked in immense tension.
"Micheal, Micheal, Micheal. You're getting stupider in your old age" Falcon replied. "Its a shame Arachnos wants you alive, this is such a ripe opportunity to kill you. Nevertheless, its also an opportunity to thank you and the Regulators for forcing the drug market to make Superadine, really, us criminals have benefited so much from you, it suffice to say you've been a great help, your father would have been proud, after all, he was a legendary junkie; drugs was his religion" Falcon watched as the smile faded from the Brawler's face.
The hero took one step towards Falcon and the four bodyguards pounced onto his path, the two bikers taking up the rear to completely surround him. The brawler was enraged, it seemed the insult to his father had hit him hard. He stood at about 7 feet, towering over the four enforcers but only just about taller than the bikers.
"Get outta my way!" he screamed, stomping the ground with immeasurable strength. The entire entourage of New Mafia fell under the earthquake. Spruk's bodyguards fell unconcious before him and Falcon took to the air in the attempt to avoid another stomp.
The bikers, Avalanche and Poison jumped back onto thier feet and struck the Brawler with two blows to the ribs and a combination of jabs, the Brawler flinched in pain but quickly responded with a mighty haymaker. Stones and Rocky, Falcon's two bodyguards withdrew thier dual Uzi's and emptied several more clips into the Brawler, with little effect. Avalanche stumbled back from a well-thrown hook by the Brawler, who turneda round and landed a boot into Poison's face. He bent over and uprooted a boulder from the broken concrete and slammed it onto Poison's head repeatedly. The look in his blood-shot eyes was monstrous, veins shot out across his forehead, still he bashed the biker's skull into a pulp until the boulder crumbled into rubble. He'd left his back open meanwhile, an opportunity that Avalanche took to tackle him to the ground, pounding the Brawler's face with earth-shattering blows. Eventually, the Brawler's head seemed to disappear in the flurry of punches, buried into a crater in the ground.
The immediate area was drenched with dried blood, pieces of flesh and nearby laid the melting corpse of the Longbow Officer. Avalanche returned to his feet, panting. He turned around and offered a hand to Poison, helping him back on his feet. Suddenly, the Brawler climbed out of his crater and leapt high into the air. "You gotta be kidding me" said Poison, as the Brawler came down on him, all his energy totally focused in a two-fist strike to the head. It connected with such force that the ripple effect of energy was felt by the onlooking crimelords. Poison's head sunk deep into his neck, snapping his spinal column, vertebra by vertebra. The man slumped into the ground instantly, like a fallen log.
"Noooo!" Spruk screamed, flying into the melee with his guns cocked. His henchmen were expendable pawns, but he hated it when his pawns fail. In his fit of anger, Spruk produced his modified Mark XiX Desert Eagle fixed with a .50 action express cartridge modified with hollow tips filled with explosive chemicals.
Avalanche bent low and wound up a vengeful finishing blow so powerful it connected on the Brawler's jaw, rippled across facial muscles, tearing several ligaments and cutting his tongue. The punch sent the hero flying across the pavement, completely knocked-out. Just as he hit the floor, Spruk empties two well-aimed shots through the Brawler's monstrous chest. The bullets explode on impact, pouring deathly corossive chemicals eating through his internal organs.
Descending from the air, Spruk rushed over the fallen hero and kicks him hard in the pelvis. "You're gonna rot in an Arachnos jail this time, death is no escape. And I, I'll be living off the bounty. Tell that to the Statesman!"
Under the Knife
[The moon dwarfs an old warehouse on the docks of Port Oakes. The surrounding area is silent, nothing but the howl of the wind runs through the streets. A small light flickers through the boarded windows. Inside several men in Halloween masks are sat on the wooden crates. A young woman is shackled to a far wall, her dress masking the blood that drips off her mouth. The haunting figure of Sionis emerges from the shadows, wrapping black cloth around his fists. Walking over to the woman he ties the cloth off and stares down at her with his rotted eyes. He holds out his hands as one of his minions passes him a small surgical knife.]
Its time we removed your mask. His free hand grabbed the womans throat pinning her against the wall, white light bounced off the knife as he raised it to the side of her face. Tightening his grip around her throat the maniac pressed the blade onto the side of her face. The knife ran across her cheek leaving a thin trail of blood. As her screams filled the warehouse the madman continued to disfigure her face.
Sionis dragged the knife across her skin and whipped the blood onto the floor. Cleaning it off with his coat he placed the knife on a near by crate.
Boss, we got company. Said one of his henchmen peering through the window.
Marcone finally decided to turn up then. He said walking across to the window
Its not Marcone boss. We got ourselves a cape."
Meanwhile, at some undisclosed secret hide-out location, Harbinger of Pain is sat next to an open fire, reading a book. It appears he is only a few chapters in, and then he slams the book down in disgust.
"Damn hobbits! Seriously have no idea of what they've got. I'd just kill Gandalf, take the ring for myself and have a damn good time!"
His aggresive state is soon changed to one of slightly less agrgresion as he sees a ragged dirty faced child come towards him, and nervously says "Child Labour team 1 has finished sir..."
The Harbingers eyes gleem.
"Excellent, and here is your reward,". He then grabs an old christmas selection box, ten years out of date.
He walks over into a large room with two giant brass coloured cylinders holding up a green orb. Underneath is some arcane runes and random tech junk. "drats, forgot needs one more thing... Hey kids, there's more rewards for you in here. Yeah thats right, just stand over there. To the left a bit, yup, under the green orb... and... ZUMPHF 'ZHO"
The children vanish in a bright light, all screaming in pain.
"I never get tired of hearing that... Well, the batteries are all charged, nice mix of Circle of thorns magic with Nemesis tech. Plus those ancient sumerian trapping spells will help in this, my finest hour!"
Harbinger leaps over to the machine in a manical glee. and pushes a crystal gem like button. A nice female computer voice then speaks,
"Hero teleporting to torture and immenent death device online"
The harbinger then looks down and thinks to himself, thinkig he should really of thought of a better name. he looks up to the green orb, whihc is now glowing.
"Computer... locate and teleport.. Back Ally Brawler!"
Back at Port Oakes silence befell the warehouse, the henchmen gathered around the door weapons at the ready. Sionis stood back into the shadows watching with anticipation. A bright red light started to bleed through the cracks in the door. What the hell
said one of the henchmen, before he was blown back off of his feet with the others by a colossal explosion. Smoke filled the hole where the door once was. A tall figure floated through the smoke, landing on top of the debris. The hero stood 6ft tall, kitted out in a black high-tech battle suit. His helmet tinted in a dark blue.
Anyone home? he said sarcastically in a deep Texan accent. One of the henchmen managed to pick him self up and fire a shot off from his magnum. Scrapping the heros chest plate the thug was knocked off his feet yet again by a blast of blue energy. So whos runnin this party boys? He grabbed one of the fallen thugs by his shirt and lifted him high off the ground. You gonna talk boy, or do I gotta force it out of ya? his free hand started glowing a bright red, pulsing in front of the thugs face.
Jesus man whats wrong with your hands! the thug trying to pry himself free form the heros grip. Ill tell ya just dont hit me man. Its Sio. Before the thug could finish his jaw was blown clean off, smearing the heros reflective mask with a thick coat of blood and bone. Retracting from the body as if his blood were acidic, the hero scanned the room. The smell of hot lead filled the air. The haunting mask of Sionis slipped back into the shadows; smoke pouring from the barrel of his gun.
Boy, you just gone and make the biggest mistake of your life. Said the hero as he smeared the blood off his helmet and made his way towards Sionis.
Working his way through the shadowed maze of crates the hero hounded Sionis. From out of nowhere Sionis leapt from the shadows spraying the hero with a poisonous toxin concealed within his wristbands. The acidic concoction ate away at the heros helmet, scrapping at it trying to get it off the hero stumbled backwards.
Grasping a crowbar from a near by crate Sionis loomed over the fallen hero pushing his foot against his chest sending the man crashing to the ground. Your life ends here.
Darkness. Pain.
I should be free.
For as long as he could remember darkness and pain had been his only friends, his solitary companions.
I want to be free.
Others had come, figures, shades and shadows. They had spoke, asked things he couldnt possibly know. They had hurt him when he couldnt answer.
She said Id be free.
Weeks, months? Of pain had twisted him, bent his will, stretched it. But he was not broken, far from it. He was different to them, all of them, he knew, better somehow. Where they would have succumbed he held firm, he clung to his few memories. His allies. Friends? Perhaps they were. They had helped, would help, him.
She promised.
He felt their minds, a dull throb, an ache in the back of his head that could never be extinguished. They had done things to him, unspeakable things. He was altered, changed and not for the better. Outward he pushed, forcing his mind to its limits and beyond. Yet as he travelled he felt stronger not weaker. She was NEAR, and another so familiar. Linked by blood.
She will come.
This thought filled him for a moment with forbidden cheer before he quashed it ruthlessly. Anything could be found here, anything not ordinary. But he could hope now. She would come, and his kin. They would help if none others would.
Pistol.
Whispers beyond the veils of reality echoed throughout the dreams of many, yet none that belonged to Arachnos, the spiders. Animals awoke, children cried out in the night and those sensitive to such things were chilled by a mental touch colder than the grave. In one however they would echo more firmly than others, solid and whole. Pistol, the leader, the don of the self proclaimed new mafia would hear clearly in her sleep, the speaker a tantalisingly familiar figure. Even in her dreams a name sprang to mind. Mob-Mentality.
Help me.
************************************************** ********************************
Outside the dons room a solitary figure waited, leaned apparently nonchalantly against a wall, though he was as tense as he had ever been in his life. Somehow he had known this was coming even before the don. Had known one of their own needed aid beyond even him. One of his own beyond even the ties The Gang wrought. He had waited since dusk and through the night to present his case to she who led The Gang, hoping she would see fit to help him. This was a matter of blood.
Long before Pistol would emerge Bunji had made up his mind. He would save him with or without her help even if it meant his own death, no matter the decision of the don. Blood came before contract, no matter what he, or she, said.
He hadnt been here long and his reputation hadnt seemed to count for much with her before. But for this
He couldnt do this alone.
The thought almost brought tears to his eyes.
He waited in darkness.
Darkness. Pain.
Friends are just enemies that haven't betrayed you yet.
The office door swung open and two bodyguards ushered out Don Barzini, the mafia boss known as the notrious Pistol. Dressed in the infamous black floor-length trenchcoat worn by the New Mafia, she swept past Bunji and headed down the corridor, flanked by three more henchmen.
Settling the Score - Sunday 20th May
Pistol sat comfortably at her desk, three men stood across the large office guarding the doors. A woman knelt by the desk, weeping. She began to mutter something in Italian.
"Don Barzini, lei è una padrina rispettabile ai miei bambini, la chiedo, per favore" she begged. "La supplico"
"Helena" said Pistol, swiveling her chair around to face the woman. "You are a beautiful woman and a caring mother, I appreciate you coming to me first, with this. I'll see what I can do. Adesso, per favore la fermata piangendo. Andare a casa e fare come lei fa. Let me worry about your husband."
In a fit of gratitude, the woman rushes around the desk and kisses the right hand of Don Barzini.
"God bless you Helena, go home and be a good mother to your children" said Pistol, watching the woman leave. A guard opened the door, exited and escorted the woman out. Shutting the door after her, Pistol stood up and looked out of a nearby window, directing her speech to the two enforcers left in the room. "Eagle, give this one to Antonio. Helena's husband needs a lesson in respect... respect for his wife"
Instantly, the man called Eagle produced a cellphone and made a phonecall.
"What time are the mercenaries due in for?" she asked casually.
"Any time now, boss" said the second guard.
A Heavy knock is heard, aswell as the muffled middle class English accent of the mercenary commonly known as 'Big Lunk'
"Hey, Barzini, tell these goons to let me past already... is this any way to treat a guest?"
The doors swing open, and Lunk, dressed in a long trenchcoat over his black combat gear, strolls in casualy, followed close behind by a assault bot, almost matching him in his immense height.
"I have alot of very powerful enemies Lunk, you must excuse the heavy security" said Pistol, talking over her desk. "Please, have a seat" She noticed her guards looking alarmed at the giant robot, but a simply gesture of her hand set them at rest. A message that she still had everything under control.
"This lumbering pile of metal behind you, Lunk. Are you trying to sell it to me?"
"this?"
Lunk reaches behind without looking, and pats the robot on the leg
"this is succubus. she's... the creation of a mutual friend"
He motions with his hand to the guards as he reaches inside his jacket, pulling out an oversized pistol, and laying it across the desk as he sits down.
"so what can i do for you?"
"Lunk, I understand you to be a very respectable man, somebody of your stature and your hieght of power learns quickly who his allies are and aren't" Pistol lectured, leaning forward from her desk. "Now we've worked together in the past and I've always considered you an ally, but the events of late have made me doubtful. You have insulted my trust in you and the Immorality League, why do you think that is?"
Glaring at the henchman with blood shot eyes he sat down in the chair oposite pistol, placing his pistols neatly on the desk.
"Marcone needs to be gutted with a knife." withdrawing a crimson-coated combat knife from his coat Sionis slid it across the desk. "Can you help me..." straining to say the last word he grumbled under his scarred voice. "...Please."