Outside of a cabin in the woods is where we find Tarrasque and Marcus Anderson. Well, the cabin's in sight anyways. Probably still a thousand feet away. 

Anderson: I don't know if this is a good idea. We should be getting ready for your upcoming match against Subject 42. 

Tarrasque just grunts and keeps walking. Marcus sighs and follows along, trying to catch up to be by Tarrasque's side. 

That, of course, is when the ground gives out on him. Tarrasque reaches back without looking, grabbing Marcus by the flailing arm as he falls for a tiger trap. 

Marcus slams into the side of the hole. He looks down at the spikes that could have been his death if not for Tarrasque's quick reflexes. 

Of course the question in Marcus' mind is how did Tarrasque know to react like that? Heck, how did he react like that at all? 

Those aren't the words that come out of his mouth as Tarrasque drags him out of the hole. 

Anderson: Thanks, man! I don't know about this. Aiden has the place boobytrapped! We should go back and wait until we get him in the ring to beat the info out of him. 

Tarrasque: No! Me tired waiting. Him know me family. Me NEED know now! 

Marcus puts a hand on Tarrasque's shoulder to comfort him. 

Anderson: Alright, Tarrasque. Alright. Let's do this. We'll get that bastard Aiden while he's still recovering and beat the knowledge from him. 

Tarrasque nods and begins walking toward the cabin again. 

Tarrasque: Stay close. 

Tarrasque slows down a little so that Marcus can stay by his side. They are nearly to the clearing where the cabin is when Marcus feels something catch his ankle. 

Anderson: Fuck. 

Marcus hears some rustling of something moving fast, but doesn't see it as Tarrasque elbows him out of the way. 

Tarrasque catches the sharpened end of a tree trunk, the sharp end of the trunk piercing his chest. Tarrasque side steps away from the trunk, letting it sway gently. He walks over to Marcus and extends a hand to help Marcus up. 

Marcus takes a look at Tarrasque's chest with worry. He has a trickle of blood streaming down his tshirt. 

Anderson: Are you hurt bad? 

Tarrasque just shrugs with a smile. 

Tarrasque: Me be okay. We go. 

Anderson: Alright. 

Tarrasque and Marcus finish walking their way to the cabin without further incident. Marcus reaches to knock, but Tarrasque grabs his wrist to prevent that. 

Tarrasque: Me try me key. 

Marcus takes his hand back and scratches at his head. 

Anderson: You have a key? 

Tarrasque: Yup. 

Tarrasque kicks the door in, bringing his hand up to the side and catching an arrow just inches before it pierces Marcus in the face. 

Anderson: Jesus! I think I pee'd a little. 

Tarrasque drops the arrow with a grunt and walks into the cabin with Marcus close behind. A quick look around reveals Tucker Benard sitting in a chair, trying to reload a crossbow. It isn't working very well as it seems he lacks the strength to do so. 

Benard: Hang on! I'll murder you momentarily. 

Tarrasque crosses the room and snatches the crossbow from Tucker's hands. He grabs Tucker by the collar, lifts him up, and shoves him against the wall. 

Tarrasque: Where Aiden?! 

Benard: I don't know? 

Marcus walks over as Tarrasque slams him against the wall again. 

Anderson: I wouldn't lie if I were you. Tarrasque's in a bad mood since Aiden has been ducking him since their match where Tarrasque injured him. 

Benard: I really don't know where he is! He hasn't checked in for a few days! 

Tarrasque growls and rears his other hand back. Tucker yelps in fright and...wets himself. This doesn't get Tarrasque to release him, even as his shoes get wet from Tucker peeing himself. 

Anderson: Maybe you don't know where Aiden is. You might know what he discovered in our motel room. We had the names of Tarrasque's real family. Did he tell this to you? Do you know? 

Benard: No. He doesn't tell me anything! I swear! 

Marcus sighs. 

Anderson: This is a dead end, Tarrasque. Let him go. 

Tarrasque nods, but doesn't let Tucker go. 

Tarrasque: Him report Aiden. 

Anderson: Yeah? What about it? 

Tarrasque gets a determined look in his eyes as he looks at Tucker Benard. 

Tarrasque: Me kill him. 

Anderson: Oh no! No! Tarrasque, don't kill him! 

Benard: Yes! Listen to the skinny white girl! Don't kill me! 

Tarrasque sighs. He looks like he's about to release Tucker, but then headbutts him right in the nose to break it in a spectacular fashion. Then, he releases Tucker, who falls down to his knees and tries to staunch the flow of blood with his hands while tilting his head back. Tarrasque nods to Marcus. 

Tarrasque: Me send message. Me no kill. 

Marcus regards the bleeding, crying Tucker for a moment before shrugging. 

Anderson: I suppose you did not kill him and yes, you left quite the message. Shall we go? 

Tarrasque: Yes. 

Tarrasque leads the way as him and Marcus Anderson leave the cabin. It's nearly a mile hike to get to their parked car. 

Tarrasque: You want talk Subject 42? 

Anderson: Why not? Subject 42 matches you in speed and power if I'm not mistaken. Though you can speak a bit better than he does. 

Tarrasque just shrugs to indicate that he's not for certain that his dialogue and Subject's are very different. Marcus just shakes his head. 

Anderson: I mean how many different ways can you say ragh? His handler, if there is one, will have to do more of the talking or translating. You know how annoying that is? 

Tarrasque stops in his tracks, Marcus nearly running into him. Tarrasque turns around to look at Marcus, cocking his head. Marcus blinks at the look before his eyes go wide. 

Anderson: Are you saying that I do most of the talking or translating? Why, I never! Or wait, always. That's I always. Whatever. You're still a thousand times better than him. I mean you are older than him, but you look the same as pictures I've seen of you from when I was born. So, I don't think that age is a factor. 

Tarrasque: Me know Subject be hard fight. Me welcome hard fight. Me do me best. 

Anderson: That's all we can ask for, I reckon. 

They walk for awhile in silence before Tarrasque chuckles. 

Anderson: What? 

Tarrasque: Him albino. 

Anderson: Yeah? 

Tarrasque: Just...ob...obserb...observation. 

Marcus just shakes his head and keeps on walking, the car in sight. 

Anderson: It's going to be a heck of a match, Tarrasque. Let's get the heck out of here.