#far cry

I haven’t written in a long, long time and I’ve never written for Far Cry before but I’ve had this idea in my head for a while.

So, here are snippets of my Deputy being a petty nightmare for John Seed.

“So, you’ve taken my home in the name of your little “resistance.” Ah, if those walls could talk… well, more accurately scream… just know that I will get it back sooner or later. And when I do, maybe I’ll hang your skin as a trophy above the mantle,” John’s voice taunted as I walked through the double doors into the living room.

“I’d much rather be taxidermied and put next to the cougar,” I replied, running my hand down the back of the cougar against the wall.

“Then I’ll have you stuffed and mounted in my bedroom, Deputy,” he threatened.

“You’re a sick man.”

“You’re murdering our people, you stole my home AND destroyed the sign on the road to my ranch. One of us is sick and it’s not me.”

“Consider the ranch payback for trying to choke me during your little baptism,” I replied, making my way upstairs. His ranch was beautiful but I expected nothing less from the Dolce wearing fuckstick.

“It would’ve been a merciful ending for a sinner such as yourself,” he said calmly.

“Choke on a dick, John.”

I heard Sharky laugh heartily behind me. We had bonded over our love of fire, racing movies, and making John Seed’s life Hell.

“You have a dirty mouth, Deputy,” John said, frustration evident in his ridiculously soothing voice. Pissing off John Seed just to hear him bitch at me via radio was my new favorite hobby.

“That John sure does have a hard on for ya. So, I’m thinking that you two should just fuck and uh, get it over with,” Sharky said after I muted John mid-tirade. Something about scrubbing my soul clean, blah blah blah.

Sharky and I explored the property until nightfall. To celebrate our successful takeover of the Ranch, a group of us decided to let loose and have a few drinks. Drinking required food and food required cooking utensils. A mischievous smile spread across my face as I grabbed my radio.

“Hey fuckface. Where are the pots in your kitchen?” I asked sitting on top of a granite countertop next to the refrigerator.

“Are you… serious?” He asked.

“I’m dying for some mac and cheese here, Johnny boy. If I starve you’ll never get to hear me say that magic word.”

“Confess and I’ll tell you where to find everything you need,” he answered.

“I’ll starve before I make it through the sin list.”

“Just say yes. Deputy. There’s no need to fight it,” he urged.

“This is a really cool plane model on your mantle, looks fragile,” I said, nowhere near the mantle but I remembered looking at a plane sitting there earlier that day.

“Don’t touch that,” he warned.

“Don’t test a hangry bitch.”

“Break that plane, Deputy, and you won’t survive the night,” he growled.

“You overestimate the amount of fucks I give, John. Pots. Where are they?” I pushed.

I took another sip of whisky and tapped the radio impatiently.

“CONFESS!” He yelled into the radio unexpectedly.

A loud crash in the background combined with John’s outburst made me jump. Sharky had dropped a frying pan but the youngest Seed brother didn’t need to know that.

“Sharky found your model plane room,” I chuckled.

“For fuck’s sake! Middle cabinet on the kitchen island!” Exasperation filled his voice and I enjoyed every second.

“I’ll send some mac and cheese to your bunker, Deputy out.”

“I’m going to enjoy killing you.”

“Back atcha, douche. By the way, I’m redecorating. Your obsession with planes, while adorable, just doesn’t do it for me,” I noted.

“DEPUTY!” He snapped.

“You sure know how to piss that smirkin’ fuckface off, Shorty. I like it,” Sharky smiled in approval.

**

“Deputy… “

“What, bitch? I’m a little busy at the moment,” I answered after making him wait an annoyingly long time. Just because.

“When I finally get my hands on you, you’ll pay dearly for every sin you’re committing against this project,” he warned. I assumed word had gotten back to him about the silo I blew up a few minutes before he called.

“Is that all?” I asked. I sped past Redler Creek and saw a convoy of peggy trucks coming up the road to the left.

“Did I just see you drive by in my car?” He asked through gritted teeth.

“The sexy red one?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“I broke into your safe and found the key,” I admitted.

“You broke… into… my safe.”

I laughed into the radio. He was making this too fun.

“You’ll speak of this to no one,” he commanded.

“No can do, news of the sex toys I found spread quickly around the ranch thanks to one inebriated Sharky.”

“Deputy,” he said like a warning.

“Kudos on the wide array of toys, the flogger was a nice touch but I’m surprised by the lack of condoms. Not a single one in your room. What, do they not make ‘em small enough for you?”

“Deputy!” He exclaimed.

“Sinner,” I said under my breath, adding insult to injury.

“DEPUTY!”

I muted the radio and punched the gas pedal headed towards Falls End. It was time for the Testy Festy with my favorite pyromaniac.

**

A few nights later

“Oh, John,” I sang into the radio.

“Little Miss Wrath,” John replied as though he had been waiting for me.

“How long did it take to get this Yes sign on the mountain?” I asked.

There was a long pause.

“Don’t you dare,” he said in a low voice full of unspoken threats.

“I’ve been drinking and I have an itchy trigger finger, oh Holy one. It’s gonna take a lot more than idle threats to stop me.”

“Destroy that sign, Deputy, and you’ll never make it to the atonement. Your resistance will be finding parts of your body for weeks,” he fumed.

“Well shit. You win,” I replied.

“I can see you. I know you’re not leaving,” he revealed, “put down the rocket launcher and walk away.”

“You’re watching me?” I looked to the skies to see if he was in a plane or a chopper but none were visible.

“Yes, I can see you and that middle finger you’re holding in the air. When I get my hands on you… “ he began.

“You’re a kinky little shit, aren’t cha?”

I pulled the trigger and sent a rocket flying through the air at the giant Y.

“DEPUTY!”

“My finger slipped, sorry,” I said through obnoxious laughter. I quickly reloaded and pulled the trigger again, this time aiming at the E.

“Oh no, sorry again! I was laughing too hard and pulled the trigger.”

“When this little uprising is over, you’ll rebuild that piece by piece. You’ll work until your fingers are worn to the bone and when you’re done, I’ll bury you-”

“Yeah, I don’t care,” I interrupted and abruptly muted the radio.