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08/11/2018 09:05 PM
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Midnight Investigations: Omnibus Pt. 2
It had been three more days in this hotel room. Joan had been getting antsy due to no hits on their website, no calls on their phone, and no emails regarding working as private investigators. In order to relieve some stress, Joan had decided to take Sable out on a walk for the day, leaving Claire back at the motel room.
Claire sat at the motel table, laptop set up on the tabletop. She was currently looking up various different odd jobs that could bring in some source of income for herself, her brother, and her best friend. Though nothing seemed to particularly stand out for her set of skills. A lot the jobs she was finding were heavy manual labor along with things that required more brute strength than anything else.
Claire drew a heavy sigh, hand reaching for the backside of the laptop before shutting it closed. Things were getting progressively more and more difficult for the family of three which made Claire worry for their future. She was a detective at heart, in mind, body, and soul; yet it seemed that Greengrow wasn’t in any particular need for that. All hope seemed to be lost until…
Diiiiing! Diiiiing! Diiiiing! Claire’s cellphone started to ring with an area code that was unfamiliar to her appearing on the caller ID. Reaching for the phone, she examined it, one brow arched at the number.
“Hello.” she answered softly yet clearly.
“Hello, is this Claire or Joan Cadaver?”
“Claire speaking, may I ask who this is?”
“Yes, hello, my name is Rosemary Isley. I don’t know who else to turn to. The police will not listen to me, every other private investigator has told me that I’m crazy, and well, I feel like I’m losing my mind. I read your ad on Craigslist. It stated you and your team work around unusual, paranormal, or unconventional cases, right?”
“Yes, I believe that would be us.”
“Wonderful!” she forced a laugh, though it was soon overcome with a voice of concern and worry, “Can you come to my house today, please? Between the 2:00PM and 4:00PM, as that’s when my husband and daughter are gone from the home. Any earlier or later will not due.”
“I can be there.”
“Thank you, Miss Cadaver. I look forward to seeing you. Goodbye.”
Click! The dial tone was heard as Claire’s face hardened. It seemed that a new mystery was afoot. She and Joan were most likely about to have their work cut out for them.
* * *
“Okay, so what the f*** are doin’ here in the suburbs, Claire?” asked Joan as he sat in driver’s seat of the Midnight Investigations van.
“I am unsure of the case entirely, but when woman who called me seemed rather distressed. I deduce that whatever we are here for will be in our best interest. Besides, we cannot afford to be selective when it comes to work.”
“I know, I know,” Joan turned up his nose, eyes glancing out the window to view the upper-middle class home that they had parked outside of. “It’s just when we enter middle-aged mom territories, my skin starts to crawl.”
“Wouldn’t that mean that you as a whole would start crawling, Joan? I do not believe that your skin can crawl without you attached to it.”
Joan chuckled, shaking his head, “I often wonder if you’re just f***in’ with me when it comes to my figures of speech.”
“That would be incestous and, despite me wanting to keep my sexual habits private, I am not interested in incest. Nor would you be my type if I were.”
“What?” Joan frowned, “Uh, go f*** yourself, I am every little incestous sister’s dream brother. F*** off.”
“You give yourself too much credit. While I love you as my brother, if you were not my brother, I do not believe I could love you.”
Joan’s eyes shot daggers towards the albino, “You’re joking right? You’re just trying to make one of your failure attempts at humor. You f***in’ love me.”
Claire gave a smirk, her hand opening the door, “Am I joking?”
“Uh, yeah, you have to be. Because that implies that I’m not lovable in any other way than being a sibling.”
“Yes, it does. I am aware of the implications,” Without another word, Claire exited the door and left Joan in the car.
“Uh, what the f***?!” Joan yelled aloud before musing to himself, “She’s just f***in’ with me. There’s no way she’s serious. No f***in’ way. Claire is developing a sense of humor. It’s puberty for her personality, and humor are her brand new titties. Yeah. That’s gotta be it.”
Joan grabbed the door handle, pushing open the door to exit. He followed Claire towards the home’s entrance, still shaking off the shock of Claire being so insulting. He knew that she was joking, though there was a slight feeling of unease. What if she was being serious about not loving him for any other reason other than blood. This made Joan shudder, dashing towards where his sister was.
“Yo, Claire, wait up,” he called out as stood behind her. The duo were now on the patio of the home, “You WERE just f***ing with me, right?”
Claire glanced at her younger siblings, “What am I ‘f***ing’ with you about now, Joan?”
“Y’know, not loving me for any other reason than being my sister?”
“Why, are you afraid that I do not love you, Joan?”
“Uh, yeah, a little.”
“Joan,” Claire turned to her brother, “Search your feelings. You know the answer.”
“Oh, now you’re a f***in’ spiritual guru, huh? Just ‘search my feelings’,” Joan did finger air-quotes when saying that last part, “What’re you gonna train me in next, Obi-Wan? Just answer the f***in’ question, please.”
“Why are you so torn up about this?”
“Uh, because, I am severely insecure about my place in the world when it comes to people who are supposed to love me.”
Claire frowned at that declaration, her hand reaching for Joan’s shoulder. “I am f***ing with you, Joan. Do not worry. I am trying to joke with you so we may both be the funny siblings.”
“Huh?” Joan cocked a brow, “Why? You’re supposed to be the hardened, noir detective to my medically inept, yet comedically adept Dr. Watson, Claire. You don’t need to be funny.”
“I suppose that you are correct. However…”
“‘However’ what?”
“I too am insecure, Joan,” Claire stated, “I am afraid that I am uninteresting and quite plain.”
“You’re a bad-ass supernatural detective, Claire. Uninteresting and plain are two words that should stray far away from you.”
“Occupationally, yes. But I cannot help but feel like personality-wise, I am a tad… soporific.”
“I don’t even know what the f*** that means.”
Claire sighed, her fist raising to ring the doorbell that was in front of them. As the bell ding, she followed the sound with an “It does not matter, Joan.”
“Yeah it does, Claire! If you’re feelin’ insecure, obviously it matters. What makes you feel this way, anyway?”
“I suppose that it is because--”
The door to the home was then opened with a middle-aged woman standing in the doorway. She had crows feet on her eyes, her hair cut short, and dressed exactly how most would imagine any woman her age to dress. Immediately, the middle-aged woman was taken aback by Claire’s unworldly appearance.
“Oh goodness,” she gasped, “A-Are you… Claire Cadaver?”
Claire’s attention was taken off of her brother’s question, black eyes focusing on the woman. She could tell that the woman was obviously scared of her unusual features. That’s when Claire reached into the pocket of her pants to pull out a pair of aviator sunglasses that she placed on her face to cover her eyes.
“Yes, I am Claire Cadaver,” her hand reached out to shake the woman’s, “With me is my brother, Joan Cadaver. You must be Rosemary Isley.”
The woman, on the other hand, seemed reluctant to touch Claire and instead gazed upon her unnatural appearance with fear. “Yes, that is me. It is a pleasure.”
Joan arched a brow at the middle-aged woman. He never liked when people always treated Claire like she was some sort of freak due to her unusual eyes and pale complexion. That was his flesh and blood; a human being, yet everyone always treated her like she was a freak.
“Not what you were expectin’, Stepford Wife?” Joan scoffed rudely, “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve just seen a fuc--”
“Joan,” Claire lifted the hand she was going to shake the woman’s with up to where Joan stood, indicating him to halt his insults. Her face turned to him as she shook her head back and forth, “Now is not the time for that, Joan.”
At this point, the woman was looking rather fearful of what Joan was about to say next. She was, at least by Joan’s standards, the timid type who likely didn’t get out much.
“Yeah, yeah,” Joan grumbled, still pissy at the fact that this woman had to be so rude. Still, he slid his hands into his pockets and glared towards the woman. “Nice to meet ya, Stepford Wife.”
“The pleasure is all mine. Please, come inside,” though she was verbally welcoming, her unwanted, fearful eyes and twitchy body indicated that she was reluctant to let them inside.
“So,” spoke Claire, entering with Joan behind her. Claire took note of the woman’s unusual mannerisms. “You sounded quite fussed over during your call. What is it that we are looking into today?”
Joan, on the other hand, was quick to forget the woman’s rudeness, and instead had his eyes glaze over the area. It was exactly what he had expected from the home of a well-off, middle-aged white woman living in the suburbs. He let out a whistle.
“We’ve stumbled into white privilege territory,” Sarcasm, obviously, though there was some disdain in Joan’s voice, “Lemme guess, your case is that your Mexican gardener is suddenly gone. Well, don’t worry, I know where he is. The person you voted for probably deported ‘im. Case closed!”
The woman shut the door behind her, stepping in front of the two siblings. She shook her head at Joan’s sardonicism, “No, this has nothing to do with my gardener. This has to deal with my daughter.”
“Daughter, huh? Did she run off with those ‘damned negroes’ and now yo--”
“Joan,” Claire interrupted, shooting a glare towards her brother,“Now is not the time for that.”
“Right, right. Sorry. Please, go on,” Joan gave a quick wave of his hand towards the woman.
“What exactly has happened with your daughter, Ms. Isley?”
The woman fidgeted around, fingers starting to twiddle with anxiety. “You see, my daughter is missing.”
“Did you call the f***in’ cops?” spat Joan.
“Yes, were the authorities informed?” followed Claire.
“No. No, they were not. I cannot inform the authorities because my daughter missing is something no one else seems to think happened.”
“What the f*** does that mean?”
“Yes, what exactly does that mean?”
Rosemary looked to her feet, fingers twiddling together, “Please, follow me, and I will try to explain this to the best of my ability.”
* * *
Rosemary was quiet as she led Joan and Claire out of the foyer of her home and into the upstairs bedroom which belonged to her daughter. As the door to the room opened, she allowed the siblings to enter before her, arms crossing in discomfort, as if she didn’t like where she was currently standing.
The room was common. It looked like the room of a college student. It was tidy, neat, and had a green and blue color scheme. Potted plants aligned the windowsills. By green that the plants had displayed, they were likely taken care of regularly. In the corner of the bedroom was a computer desk with a high-grade monitor resting on the surface.
“Wowza, so this is what it feels like to be a white and privileged bitch from the Georgia suburbs, eh Claire?” said Joan as he viewed the room.
Claire’s intense eyes paid no mind to her brother’s typical rantings, instead focusing on the mother who had brought them here. “Why exactly are we here?”
The mother, who was standing in the doorway, sighed, “I believe that my daughter is missing because she has been replaced by someone else.”
“Replaced by someone else?” Claire arched a brow, “What are you implying?”
“You see,” Rosemary sighed, “My daughter, Erica was a sweet, young freshman in college. She stayed here during the nights and went to her campus during the days. Most of the time, we barely see her because she’s either out for class or in her room on the computer. She’s an introverted girl, pudgy cheeks, green hair, and a tad on the portly side. But one day…”
“One day…?” Joan rolled his eyes as this story was getting less and less believable with each word.
“One day she becomes a beautiful, busty blonde and suddenly is extroverted. She continues to retain certain traits of Erica, but she’s different.”
“Yeah,” Joan chuckled, “Plastic surgery typically is for the self-esteem, lady. So I imagine she is different.”
“Joan,” Claire halted her brother, focusing her black eyes on the woman. She could tell that Rosemary was distressed by her expression. It was plain to see that Rosemary felt very deeply about her daughter. “What exactly are you saying happened, miss?”
“I… I don’t know,” Rosemary gasped, her face turning red as tears ran down her face, “One moment she’s my Erica. One moment she’s the baby I helped create and when I go to wake her up in the morning, a… a blonde, busty girl comes out of her room. She’s no longer shy or soft-spoken, but instead, she’s energetic, happy, and wanting to talk all the time. She’s thin, she’s… she’s not Erica.”
“Okay, I’m gonna stop because you sound super f***in’ insane,” Joan held out his hand, “But we thought this was an actual job, lady. Not you trying’ta yank our cocks when we need cash.”
“No! I’m not yanking you in any way! My daughter has been replaced! She’s… she’s been replaced by someone else who is parading around as her!”
“Hoo-boy,” Joan rolled his eyes back in disbelief.
“What my brother is trying to ask is… If your daughter has been replaced, what do her friends, her father, and those close to her think? Would they not notice that she has been ‘replaced’ as you claim?”
“No! They don’t realize it! In fact, they think she is Erica! They don’t seem to remember that Erica was chubby, had green hair, was shy
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08/11/2018 09:03 PM
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Midnight Investigations: Omnibus Pt. 2
It had been three more days in this hotel room. Joan had been getting antsy due to no hits on their website, no calls on their phone, and no emails regarding working as private investigators. In order to relieve some stress, Joan had decided to take Sable out on a walk for the day, leaving Claire back at the motel room.
Claire sat at the motel table, laptop set up on the tabletop. She was currently looking up various different odd jobs that could bring in some source of income for herself, her brother, and her best friend. Though nothing seemed to particularly stand out for her set of skills. A lot the jobs she was finding were heavy manual labor along with things that required more brute strength than anything else.
Claire drew a heavy sigh, hand reaching for the backside of the laptop before shutting it closed. Things were getting progressively more and more difficult for the family of three which made Claire worry for their future. She was a detective at heart, in mind, body, and soul; yet it seemed that Greengrow wasn’t in any particular need for that. All hope seemed to be lost until…
Diiiiing! Diiiiing! Diiiiing! Claire’s cellphone started to ring with an area code that was unfamiliar to her appearing on the caller ID. Reaching for the phone, she examined it, one brow arched at the number.
“Hello.” she answered softly yet clearly.
“Hello, is this Claire or Joan Cadaver?”
“Claire speaking, may I ask who this is?”
“Yes, hello, my name is Rosemary Isley. I don’t know who else to turn to. The police will not listen to me, every other private investigator has told me that I’m crazy, and well, I feel like I’m losing my mind. I read your ad on Craigslist. It stated you and your team work around unusual, paranormal, or unconventional cases, right?”
“Yes, I believe that would be us.”
“Wonderful!” she forced a laugh, though it was soon overcome with a voice of concern and worry, “Can you come to my house today, please? Between the 2:00PM and 4:00PM, as that’s when my husband and daughter are gone from the home. Any earlier or later will not due.”
“I can be there.”
“Thank you, Miss Cadaver. I look forward to seeing you. Goodbye.”
Click! The dial tone was heard as Claire’s face hardened. It seemed that a new mystery was afoot. She and Joan were most likely about to have their work cut out for them.
* * *
“Okay, so what the f*** are doin’ here in the suburbs, Claire?” asked Joan as he sat in driver’s seat of the Midnight Investigations van.
“I am unsure of the case entirely, but when woman who called me seemed rather distressed. I deduce that whatever we are here for will be in our best interest. Besides, we cannot afford to be selective when it comes to work.”
“I know, I know,” Joan turned up his nose, eyes glancing out the window to view the upper-middle class home that they had parked outside of. “It’s just when we enter middle-aged mom territories, my skin starts to crawl.”
“Wouldn’t that mean that you as a whole would start crawling, Joan? I do not believe that your skin can crawl without you attached to it.”
Joan chuckled, shaking his head, “I often wonder if you’re just f***in’ with me when it comes to my figures of speech.”
“That would be incestous and, despite me wanting to keep my sexual habits private, I am not interested in incest. Nor would you be my type if I were.”
“What?” Joan frowned, “Uh, go f*** yourself, I am every little incestous sister’s dream brother. F*** off.”
“You give yourself too much credit. While I love you as my brother, if you were not my brother, I do not believe I could love you.”
Joan’s eyes shot daggers towards the albino, “You’re joking right? You’re just trying to make one of your failure attempts at humor. You f***in’ love me.”
Claire gave a smirk, her hand opening the door, “Am I joking?”
“Uh, yeah, you have to be. Because that implies that I’m not lovable in any other way than being a sibling.”
“Yes, it does. I am aware of the implications,” Without another word, Claire exited the door and left Joan in the car.
“Uh, what the f***?!” Joan yelled aloud before musing to himself, “She’s just f***in’ with me. There’s no way she’s serious. No f***in’ way. Claire is developing a sense of humor. It’s puberty for her personality, and humor are her brand new titties. Yeah. That’s gotta be it.”
Joan grabbed the door handle, pushing open the door to exit. He followed Claire towards the home’s entrance, still shaking off the shock of Claire being so insulting. He knew that she was joking, though there was a slight feeling of unease. What if she was being serious about not loving him for any other reason other than blood. This made Joan shudder, dashing towards where his sister was.
“Yo, Claire, wait up,” he called out as stood behind her. The duo were now on the patio of the home, “You WERE just f***ing with me, right?”
Claire glanced at her younger siblings, “What am I ‘f***ing’ with you about now, Joan?”
“Y’know, not loving me for any other reason than being my sister?”
“Why, are you afraid that I do not love you, Joan?”
“Uh, yeah, a little.”
“Joan,” Claire turned to her brother, “Search your feelings. You know the answer.”
“Oh, now you’re a f***in’ spiritual guru, huh? Just ‘search my feelings’,” Joan did finger air-quotes when saying that last part, “What’re you gonna train me in next, Obi-Wan? Just answer the f***in’ question, please.”
“Why are you so torn up about this?”
“Uh, because, I am severely insecure about my place in the world when it comes to people who are supposed to love me.”
Claire frowned at that declaration, her hand reaching for Joan’s shoulder. “I am f***ing with you, Joan. Do not worry. I am trying to joke with you so we may both be the funny siblings.”
“Huh?” Joan cocked a brow, “Why? You’re supposed to be the hardened, noir detective to my medically inept, yet comedically adept Dr. Watson, Claire. You don’t need to be funny.”
“I suppose that you are correct. However…”
“‘However’ what?”
“I too am insecure, Joan,” Claire stated, “I am afraid that I am uninteresting and quite plain.”
“You’re a bad-ass supernatural detective, Claire. Uninteresting and plain are two words that should stray far away from you.”
“Occupationally, yes. But I cannot help but feel like personality-wise, I am a tad… soporific.”
“I don’t even know what the f*** that means.”
Claire sighed, her fist raising to ring the doorbell that was in front of them. As the bell ding, she followed the sound with an “It does not matter, Joan.”
“Yeah it does, Claire! If you’re feelin’ insecure, obviously it matters. What makes you feel this way, anyway?”
“I suppose that it is because--”
The door to the home was then opened with a middle-aged woman standing in the doorway. She had crows feet on her eyes, her hair cut short, and dressed exactly how most would imagine any woman her age to dress. Immediately, the middle-aged woman was taken aback by Claire’s unworldly appearance.
“Oh goodness,” she gasped, “A-Are you… Claire Cadaver?”
Claire’s attention was taken off of her brother’s question, black eyes focusing on the woman. She could tell that the woman was obviously scared of her unusual features. That’s when Claire reached into the pocket of her pants to pull out a pair of aviator sunglasses that she placed on her face to cover her eyes.
“Yes, I am Claire Cadaver,” her hand reached out to shake the woman’s, “With me is my brother, Joan Cadaver. You must be Rosemary Isley.”
The woman, on the other hand, seemed reluctant to touch Claire and instead gazed upon her unnatural appearance with fear. “Yes, that is me. It is a pleasure.”
Joan arched a brow at the middle-aged woman. He never liked when people always treated Claire like she was some sort of freak due to her unusual eyes and pale complexion. That was his flesh and blood; a human being, yet everyone always treated her like she was a freak.
“Not what you were expectin’, Stepford Wife?” Joan scoffed rudely, “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve just seen a fuc--”
“Joan,” Claire lifted the hand she was going to shake the woman’s with up to where Joan stood, indicating him to halt his insults. Her face turned to him as she shook her head back and forth, “Now is not the time for that, Joan.”
At this point, the woman was looking rather fearful of what Joan was about to say next. She was, at least by Joan’s standards, the timid type who likely didn’t get out much.
“Yeah, yeah,” Joan grumbled, still pissy at the fact that this woman had to be so rude. Still, he slid his hands into his pockets and glared towards the woman. “Nice to meet ya, Stepford Wife.”
“The pleasure is all mine. Please, come inside,” though she was verbally welcoming, her unwanted, fearful eyes and twitchy body indicated that she was reluctant to let them inside.
“So,” spoke Claire, entering with Joan behind her. Claire took note of the woman’s unusual mannerisms. “You sounded quite fussed over during your call. What is it that we are looking into today?”
Joan, on the other hand, was quick to forget the woman’s rudeness, and instead had his eyes glaze over the area. It was exactly what he had expected from the home of a well-off, middle-aged white woman living in the suburbs. He let out a whistle.
“We’ve stumbled into white privilege territory,” Sarcasm, obviously, though there was some disdain in Joan’s voice, “Lemme guess, your case is that your Mexican gardener is suddenly gone. Well, don’t worry, I know where he is. The person you voted for probably deported ‘im. Case closed!”
The woman shut the door behind her, stepping in front of the two siblings. She shook her head at Joan’s sardonicism, “No, this has nothing to do with my gardener. This has to deal with my daughter.”
“Daughter, huh? Did she run off with those ‘damned negroes’ and now yo--”
“Joan,” Claire interrupted, shooting a glare towards her brother,“Now is not the time for that.”
“Right, right. Sorry. Please, go on,” Joan gave a quick wave of his hand towards the woman.
“What exactly has happened with your daughter, Ms. Isley?”
The woman fidgeted around, fingers starting to twiddle with anxiety. “You see, my daughter is missing.”
“Did you call the f***in’ cops?” spat Joan.
“Yes, were the authorities informed?” followed Claire.
“No. No, they were not. I cannot inform the authorities because my daughter missing is something no one else seems to think happened.”
“What the f*** does that mean?”
“Yes, what exactly does that mean?”
Rosemary looked to her feet, fingers twiddling together, “Please, follow me, and I will try to explain this to the best of my ability.”
* * *
Rosemary was quiet as she led Joan and Claire out of the foyer of her home and into the upstairs bedroom which belonged to her daughter. As the door to the room opened, she allowed the siblings to enter before her, arms crossing in discomfort, as if she didn’t like where she was currently standing.
The room was common. It looked like the room of a college student. It was tidy, neat, and had a green and blue color scheme. Potted plants aligned the windowsills. By green that the plants had displayed, they were likely taken care of regularly. In the corner of the bedroom was a computer desk with a high-grade monitor resting on the surface.
“Wowza, so this is what it feels like to be a white and privileged bitch from the Georgia suburbs, eh Claire?” said Joan as he viewed the room.
Claire’s intense eyes paid no mind to her brother’s typical rantings, instead focusing on the mother who had brought them here. “Why exactly are we here?”
The mother, who was standing in the doorway, sighed, “I believe that my daughter is missing because she has been replaced by someone else.”
“Replaced by someone else?” Claire arched a brow, “What are you implying?”
“You see,” Rosemary sighed, “My daughter, Erica was a sweet, young freshman in college. She stayed here during the nights and went to her campus during the days. Most of the time, we barely see her because she’s either out for class or in her room on the computer. She’s an introverted girl, pudgy cheeks, green hair, and a tad on the portly side. But one day…”
“One day…?” Joan rolled his eyes as this story was getting less and less believable with each word.
“One day she becomes a beautiful, busty blonde and suddenly is extroverted. She continues to retain certain traits of Erica, but she’s different.”
“Yeah,” Joan chuckled, “Plastic surgery typically is for the self-esteem, lady. So I imagine she is different.”
“Joan,” Claire halted her brother, focusing her black eyes on the woman. She could tell that Rosemary was distressed by her expression. It was plain to see that Rosemary felt very deeply about her daughter. “What exactly are you saying happened, miss?”
“I… I don’t know,” Rosemary gasped, her face turning red as tears ran down her face, “One moment she’s my Erica. One moment she’s the baby I helped create and when I go to wake her up in the morning, a… a blonde, busty girl comes out of her room. She’s no longer shy or soft-spoken, but instead, she’s energetic, happy, and wanting to talk all the time. She’s thin, she’s… she’s not Erica.”
“Okay, I’m gonna stop because you sound super f***in’ insane,” Joan held out his hand, “But we thought this was an actual job, lady. Not you trying’ta yank our cocks when we need cash.”
“No! I’m not yanking you in any way! My daughter has been replaced! She’s… she’s been replaced by someone else who is parading around as her!”
“Hoo-boy,” Joan rolled his eyes back in disbelief.
“What my brother is trying to ask is… If your daughter has been replaced, what do her friends, her father, and those close to her think? Would they not notice that she has been ‘replaced’ as you claim?”
“No! They don’t realize it! In fact, they think she is Erica! They don’t seem to remember that Erica was chubby, had green hair, was shy, introverted. They
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08/03/2017 07:13 PM
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Cosmo Crisis Spotlights
 Space: It's nothing but science that no one really understands. It's a vast emptiness that no one will ever know. No one of no importance, that is. But there were those who were chosen. by those of importance. Those who were meant to know what no one else would ever know. He was one of those people. He was a man given importance by someone of importance. What did that make him? He wasn't sure himself, but had spent his last few months wondering.
Months... Days... how long had it been? Time was a funny concept. One that he had lost track of, or stopped believing in after everything that had happened. After all, he had enrolled himself into the Cosmo Control program way back in 2056. Back then, he was a younger man. Maybe not physically, but definitely spiritually.
Was being 44 physically really that old? When he looked at himself in the mirror, he often saw an older man. Then again, he had since his early twenties due to the grey that had settled into his hair at such a young age. Back in those days, he used to wish that his youthful traits would prove who he was. Funny enough, his youthful traits never proved anything, because his soul had always been old. Maybe that's what she liked about him? Maybe that's why she had chosen him?
Nicole Rios was her name. She approached him after his retirement from the army. She said she wanted to make a new Kill Watch. Back in those days, everyone knew who the Kill Watch were. The greatest heroes ever known, first appearing back in 2017 after they took down the dreadful Court of Collectors. Ha. Yeah. Heroes. What a load of sh*t. At least that's what he had always thought. The Kill Watch were a supernatural gimmick. But, then again, they supposedly did save lives. In any case, why did she need a new one?
The image of her lips moving filled his memories. Those words, that offer. Was it worth it? When these memories resurfaced, he often contemplated if it was or not.
"All you'll need to do," he remembered her low, thin accent stating, "Is to die. I'll revive you in the next 40-60 years when technology has advanced, you'll wake up, and you'll lead a team out into the stars, Mr. Suta. See, the Kill Watch is dictated by supernatural forces of the earth. From what Devon Evil has taught me, as well as my extensive studying of my own power, the earth has it's own supernatural realm, which harnesses it's own power. The Other Side, Hell, Paradise? They're all realms of the earth. That's why I need you."
"Need me for what exactly, Rios?" Suta scoffed scratching his beard. "I don't want to play this supernatural power quest. It's not my place to dictate life or death. And quite frankly, it's not yours either. But, I'm not going to tell you how to run your job."
Nicole gave her sly grin. It was a grin that she was known for, and a grin he would later come to terms with. It was her grin indicting that she knew how to operate it all.
"Mr. Suta, I don't want you to dictate life or death, but rather research it extensively. I want you to see how much life and death expands throughout the stars. How far does our earth-based supernatural abilities extend. If they are limited to earth itself, when does our power's die?"
Fair enough. She wasn't wanting him to reap any souls, so he was slightly more interested after hearing that explanation. He leaned forward in his chair, and scratched his beard once again.
"And why me exactly?"
"Because you're wise, you're a commander, you know how to lead, and most of all... I know about what happened. I know your values of life, and I know that deep down you want to do the right thing, even if you're a bit gruff. I've read your files. You saved how many men during the war? You showed so much dedication for your fellow me--"
Suta's teal eyes glanced towards the ground. She knew. She had to have, or she wouldn't have brought that up. This basically meant that she had him on her strings, and even if he refused, it could have dire consequences. Either way, this was him being forced to listen no matter what. Nicole bringing up his past was just her coy way of reminding him.
"Shut it. I don't want to talk about. I'll do it, just shut up.", Suta commanded, silencing the Trinity member.
"So gruff, Mr. Suta. But, you're making a right choice. I need you to submit yourself through some papers, have them at Trinity tower, and we'll prep you to shoot for the stars. This is how it'll work. I'm going to give you one third of the trinity's power, and then launch you into space with a crew. You'll be near immortal. No one but the supernatural forces of Earth will be able to kill you. I'm choosing you for your resilience, your skills, and, of course, your dedication to your mission. I know you very well, and have kept an eye on you for quite sometime. And your job when you're up there? It's nothin'! You go up there, spend time on a ship for a few years, and just keep track of much power you're able to have when you're distant from the earth."
"I got it, Rios. I know." Suta replied dismissively. "I know what you want from me. You want me ... to be expendable. It's how it always is, isn't it? You're saying I'll be near immortal, but if that's the case, then why aren't you going up there yourself?" Suta's eyes rolled upwards, his fingers pointing towards the ceiling. "You don't want to risk losing your power down here, so you'd rather keep two-thirds for yourself and your team instead of risking losing it while doing your own expedition. I understand what you want from me."
Nicole seemed to grimace at his comments. He was observant, that much was clear to her. But, then again, that is why she had chosen him. "You're right. You're right. You are expendable. Tricia, Rain... they aren't. Not to me. And only someone with a third of our power could do this mission. Since you're trained in combat, leadership, strategy, and show such dedication, I couldn't pass you up. So you're right. I do hope you're not mad at me. And I do want you to know the benefits will be wor--"
"Will be sh*t. Like being a soldier, the benefits never outweigh what you have to do, or the consequence of what they hold. But people like you never care. They're just looking for someone to draft. What's next, Rios?" Suta leered his blues at the Trinity member. "You going to start drafting people into the Kill Watch?"
"Wonderful idea, but..." That was a thought, but not one she was going to discuss with him. There was nothing more to discuss with him, after all. "I'll be in touch, Suta. Or should I say... 'Captain Suta?'"
The footsteps she left. Those heels clacking against the floor. Click, clack, click, clac-- The memory was over, and the annoying buzz from an alarm clock rang through Suta's ears. Captain Suta opened his eyes, and lifted himself from his bed using his arms.
"Another day in paradise", groaned the captain as he stood up, pressing a palm to his back, and leaning his pelvis outwards.
CRACK, POP, CRACK! All those noises echoed from the bones in his back. Physical body of a 44-year-old man was right, and he felt it more and more each passing day. Morning time was always the best time to freshen up. After spending a few moments in the bathroom, he exited, got dressed into his leisure suit, and headed out towards the kitchen.
It had been 88 days enclosed on this steel beast of a ship. 88 long, empty days. The ship itself wasn't empty. Oh no; not at all. He could tell that the Trinity had taken care of their permanent Kill Watch members quite well. The ship was loaded with goods. All which included entertainment to roughly last a life time, and enough food to, from what Suta had calculated, feed a small country for a year.
After reaching the kitchen, Suta went for the cupboards and pulled out a large bag of otter feed. There was a colorful bowl on the ground which read the name 'Paddles'. Suta bent forward, and dumped some of the otter feed into the container. As the tiny pellets filled the bowl, a creature came scurrying towards it.
It was a furry, yet slick looking otter. It's long body, yet stubby legs made him want to gush, despite him being masculine. Covering the otter was a tiny space suit. It looked decked out in technology that would make most question why an otter had such a suit.
Even Suta had to wonder why exactly an Otter had this sort of suit. Then again, Suta had always loved animals. Animals of all sorts, really. They often made better companions than men. Or, was it that he had lost too many men, and that made him weary of having bonds? Truthfully, he wasn't sure. Either way, the otter had the suit, because Suta wanted an animal companion that could accompany him on such a timeless flight.
"Hey there, Paddles." Suta greeted, petting the Otter on his head.
The otter's teeth chewed on the food pellets before swallowing it. The crunching was a soothing sound to Suta. One that he had grown to take comfort in. Space was a lonely place to be. An incredibly lonely one. But it was better this way. It was better to only have to look after an Otter. This way no one could get hurt, and no lives could be taken. He wouldn't have to see any people he got attached to bleed dry, shot down, or fall to their knees defeated, broken, and soon to be lifeless.
Suta's teeth clenched, his fists balled. The memories came back. All of them. Everyone of them. Oh god, they were horrifying. They were like a shadow that never let him see the sun, that wrapped him in a darkness he just couldn't escape. He wanted to help h--
"UNAUTHORIZED ENTRANCE ON DECK 23." The alarm started to blare loudly.
It was eerie to hear such a word. Especially since he, Paddles, and the servicing robots were the only things on this ship. This... this had to be a glitch, didn't it? Either way, he had to check it out. Deck 23, huh? That was worth a look. Suta made sure that his gun was strapped to his side, and rushed to the deck.
Something was wrong. When he had arrived at the deck, he found the lights turned off. He reached for his firearm, and held it outwards. The light on his firearm shined through the darkness. He had the ears of a soldier. The kind that made even the tiniest sound become a signal of potential danger. He walked throughout the deck checking each corner
There was a noise behind him. He heard it, and immediately turned around. There it was. A ghastly sight. A man? No... a creature? Yeah, that's what it had to be. It was a creature cloaked in militaristic wear. The alien print on it's jacket indicated it was here to farm goods from the lower decks. Whatever it was, it must have been smart to get passed certain security. Suta figured it was pirates, and when it came to pirates, there were no prisoners to take.
He held out his gun, and started to bast each energy round. Unfortunately, it was too quick, and seemed to dodge everything he had shot at it. It's speed was inhuman, unlike anything he had ever faced before. It was now sticking to the ceilings like some sort of insect. Suta counted his rounds on his firearm's ammo indicator. He had around six shots left until it needed a recharge pack.
His gun was aimed towards the being, as one, two, and then three shots were fired. The being dodged the first three, as expected. Luckily Suta knew what he was doing. As the last one was dodged, he predicted where the creature would appear next, and shot a bullet there. In a confused state, it went towards that area, and collided with his energy bullet.
It fell from the ceiling, and onto the ground. It gushed an oozing purple color. Suta approached the downed body, and bent down to examine it with the light of his gun.
"You're one nasty son of a bitch, aren't you?" Suta groaned before aiming the light at it's head, and pulling the trigger to make sure it was done for good. "But how the f*** did you get i--"
Suta's body went flying forward, and in some cargo boxes that were kept on this deck. Even with superhuman durability, he felt a knock on his head. Of course, it wasn't enough to kill him due to his pact with death, but it was enough to render him fuzzy. Above him stood another being. This one wore a mask and kicked him in his stomach.
"Night, grandpa." the said with malice, before aiming a weapon at his head, and shooting another force of gravity at him.
Suta's eyes slowly started to open. His arms were restrained. How long had he been out? How... wait... he had been out? Did... was...? He tried moving his feet, but they too were restrained. F***ing hell! He was a prisoner, and couldn't even use his bullsh*t trinity powers to aid him. His eyes glanced around at his surroundings. It was another steel beast. Cold, dark, with more alien words written everywhere.
WAIT! WHAT HAPPENED TO PADDLES? Suta grit his teeth. He had let down another companion. "GODDAMMIT!" yelled Suta angrily. "F***ING HELL! Where am I?! WHERE'S PADDLES?!"
Something flashed in front of him, before he felt a force slam down on his head, knocking him against the wall that he was positioned against. Ugh. It was painful, and he was dizzy once again. But worst of all... Paddles was gone. Probably scared, probably alone. Oh god. The memories were coming back. No. No, how could he...?!
"WHERE THE F*** IS PADDLES!?" His body shook it's hardest trying to break free.
"Quiet, slave! You will follow the Workforce's orders!" A voice on an intercom shouted. "Or you will suffer the consequences."
Whatever this place was, they weren't going to be nice. But that was okay, because when he got out of here, neither was he.
 Just follow orders. The three words that she felt dictated every fiber of her existence. Where did it all start? When did it these words become what she lived by? Sometimes she wondered when these words had become the backbone of her life. She had figured it all started a long time ago.
She remembered it well. Sitting in the back of her father's small, cramped flighter. The aircraft smelled of cheap fastfood, and the angroth sticks that her dad used to smoke so frequently. He'd turn back to her, and talk to her; often justifying why they were the way they were as a family.
"People don't you in a public school, Li. They don't want your kind, our kind. They hate what we are, because we're nothin' but rats 'em. People hate the Vahlteri." Her father would say to discourage her from getting en education.
"B-But, why daddy? We didn't do anything to them, did we?" Lifen asked in response.
"We were born. We didn't do nothin', but our people, Li. Our people ain't loved. It's because our people are mostly pirates, criminals, murderers, thieves. So if one of us is one, then all of us are one. You understand, baby-girl?"
Lifen hung her head, thinking over that her race was one that was hated."I understand, daddy. But we're not criminals are we?"
"Criminal is a harsh word, sweetie. Criminals are anything these days. Anyone can pin a Vahlteri to a crime. So, as that's why I gotta teach ya how to live, Li. I gotta teach ya how to live as Vahlteri who ain't never gonna be more than a criminal in the eyes of the Astro-Corps. We gotta sneak around the Astro-Corps, stay under their radar, make sure we hide the fact that we're Vahlteri."
"But the Astro-Corps are good guys, aren't they? Why would we want t--"
Her father turned around, placing his hand on the back of the vehicle's passenger seat. His fingers gripped deeply into the fabric stitched to the seat. There was frustration in his tone, and anger in his eyes.
"You been listenin', Li? People don't like us Vahlteri People are afraid of us, and this is why we're reduced to bein' criminals. No one gives us a shot in life. No one hires Vahlteri, no one lets us work, cuz we're nothin' but scum, and we search for nothin' but scraps. Have I ever steered ya wrong?"
"I-I..." Lifen had a hard time swallowing it, but she nodded. "I-I understand daddy.
She trusted in her father. She loved him a lot, after all. After her mother had been killed by the Astro-Corp, she hadn't had much but her father's love to cherish. No education, no true skills, no nothing. Her father was quite literally the only thing in her life that had any semblance of support in her life.
"That's why I gotta teach. How old are you, baby girl?"
"Eight years old."
"You're one year younger than me when I started, but you're ready. Your daddy's special baby girl, and he needs you since you're so small. So daddy's gonna teach you how to live as the trash species you were born into, ya get me?"
"Mhm. I understand."
"Alright." Her father faced forward, staring out the space-craft's window. His voice was brought to a hush as he thought over what he needed to tell his daughter for the task at hand. "Daddy's gonna need you to sneak into a place, unlock some doors with some of daddy's encryption tools, got it? When you get the door opened, daddy's gonna need you to stick by, as close as you can be, understood? You're a smart girl, Li. But I need you to just follow my orders."
Just follow his orders. Lifen understood. She nodded in agreement, and took a deep breath. It didn't sound too hard. But still, she was wondering why he wanted to do this so badly. What was it about this job that was better than scraping for scraps in order to survive. Maybe she shouldn't have questioned it. After all, it was about following orders.
After her father had parked his air-craft in a remote location, he led his daughter to the building. It was a technology warehouse to one of the biggest companies in the sector. Lifen's father headed towards the back of the building, with Lifen sneakily following behind. Slung across the father's back was a bag full of heist supplies.
Of course this job would have been better if he had a larger team, but who wanted to work with a Valhteri? No one, that's who. Even other Valhteri hated other Valhteri. They were all scum in the eyes of all who came across. After pulling out some encryption decoders, the father looked down to his young daughter. His eyes had sorrow in them. No father wanted to see their daughter be forced into a life like this. Valhteri or not, he wasn't heartless. He wanted what was best for his baby girl, but this had always been the only way.
"Alright baby girl jus--"
BLAM, BLAM, BLAM! It came out of nowhere, and was one of those moments where time seemed to stop in place. A light shined from behind Lifen, and onto her father. Her brain was trying to process what was happening before her very eyes. His knees became weak, and he fell onto the ground. His own inner fluids were dripping down his torso . His eyes flickered, until narrowing into a tired daze. His body was shivering in shock. He had been shot three times in the chest.
Lifen bent down with speed. She could feel the emotion building in her eyes, her hand touching his chest.
"D-Daddy?!" Lifen cried, sniffing.
Her father was barely clinging to life. His mouth trembled, but he was able to speak. "Li, baby girl, don't... die like this. Don't... aspire to be more than a Valhteri. Be... someone better. Live... better..."
The father grew silent, motionless, and cold. What had just happened? How did it happen so quickly? Why did it happen so quickly? Answer were soon to come to her as she felt someone soon slam her down towards the floor with brute force. She was barely able to react, and groaned when she hit the ground.
"W-What is...!" she stuttered, still trying to process everything.
"Astro-Ranger Red here, you're under arrest for attempting to commit an unlawful entry. But I should have never expected any less from Vahltrick scum.piece of sh*t like you."
She wanted to cry, she wanted to mourn for her father, and spend a few last moments with him, hugging his dead body, convincing herself it wasn't real, but the Astro-Rangers seemed to have a hold on her. He even called her 'Vahltrick,' which was one of those most derogatory words to the Valhteri. How could this happen? How.
Lifen never forgot that day. Not for a moment. As the next fifteen years passed, she had lost count of how many times she had vividly imagined that fateful scene. Her father's words struck her. He never wanted her to be born a a Vahlteri. He never asked for that, and deep down he was a good man who just believed something that was apparent: the Valhteri were a hated species.
Today was a day that she had wished that her father could see. It was her graduation from the Astro-Crop Academy. She would finally become a legitimate Astro-Ranger, rather than a trainee. She had done the impossible, and dedicated her life to being the best of the ne recruits, and her efforts definitely succeeded. Lifen had been at the top of her training squad in gravity and force manipulation, combat, diplomacy, and law enforcement. Her dad would have been proud that a Vahlteri, especially his daughter, never backed down despite the odds being against her.
There were rows of people in the audience. Most of them were family members to other Astro-Rangers recruit. This saddened lifen, as so many years had past, and her father never got to see her grow into this, yet all of these others had their families share these moments. In the end, she was a lonely soul, with dedication and hard work to fill that void.
Lifen could hear the announcer calling each and every recruit that would be in her squad to come up on stage. Lifen had spent so much time mastering everything she could, that she knew she'd be ranked with Gold. She just knew it. The ranking system was relatively simple. Astro-Ranger red was the second highest. Then came blue, yellow, black, and green. Green was a bottom-tier ranking, and one that you would have to be the absolute worst in order to receive. At the very top of the, above all others, was the shining ray of hope, Astro-Ranger Gold.
Being Astro-Ranger gold meant that you led the team, as well as could switch from squads. It was the highest accomplishment that the justice-keeping Astro-Rangers had. Lifen was shaking with excitement. She knew she had to be chosen as either Red or Gold. Gold... she wanted it so much. So much that she could taste it.
"Lifen!" the announcer called, "Come up and receive your suit, badge, and assigned area."
Lifen immediately zoomed towards the front stage. When she stood there, closed her legs, her body stiffening, and her hand saluting near her forehead.
"Here I am, sir!" she exclaimed, "I'm ready to receive my honors."
The announcer glanced at the eager, soon-to-be ranger before rolling his eyes. His hands reached behind him, grabbing her outfit, and visor.
"Lifen, I am proud to award you with," The supplies in his hands over to the green-skinned girl. "The badge, suit, and honor of being Astro-Ranger Green."
Wait, what?! Astro Ranger green? N-No, that couldn't have been. It SHOULDN'T have been. She was the top of her class! Why was she green, when green was the lowest of the ranks? Lifen took the badge, outfit, and visor with a sullen, disheartened expression slathered on her face.
"B-But..." she muttered softly, before whispering to the announcer. "I-I'm the top of my recruit squad. Why am I green?"
The announcer shut his eyes, and leaned forward. His voice was a low whisper. "Because you're a Vahltrick. We can't have the face of the Astro-Rangers led by someone the public fears."
Valhtrick. There it was again. That word. That horrible, ugly word. That word that constantly reminded her that she was less of a being than the other races that were on this planet. Despite her accomplishments, dedication, and undying drive, her father was right. The people never gave the Vahlteri a chance, nor would they. Was this really a happy moment anymore?
Her fingers gripped onto the suit in her hands as she hung her head low. She didn't feel like celebrating, and the words of the announcer were still stings to her ego. Her feet started to move, as she left the front stage. Did she have anymore reason to be here? Was being a green Astro-Ranger worth it? The green rangers were always known as the laziest, stupidest, and least trained on the forces, and had little to know jurisdiction aside from making arrest. The green ranger status was a reminder of how much you can fail even when you succeed.
After leaving the stage, Lifen made her way out of the Astro Ranger academy. She'd start her job soon, and probably be looked down upon in whatever squad she was assigned with. After finding a seat by a nearby tree planted outside of the academy, she looked down at the suit she had been given. Her head shook in dismay.
"I'm sorry, daddy. I'm sorry for not being more. I'm sorry for being a disappointment. I'm sorry for being... a no good Vahltrick." She stated aloud.
Oh god, how she hated herself. She hated every ounce of her race, and the fact that they had even existed. Why did she have to be born a Vahltrick? Why did she have to be born in the first place? Her existence was painful. Not only to herself, but to the others around her. Painful and worthless, just like her.
 How did she get in this situation? How? How on earth did it become like this? Sweat rolled down her forehead as her green, leather ranger suit was slowly being unzipped from the top to the bottom. Due to the tightness of her astro-corps attire, she never wore anything underneath. Her wrists were held down by shackles which were connected to the floor. The same could be said for her ankles. Her head shook back and forth with fear in her eyes.
The male leering above her wore an unsettling mask. It was that of a criminal. It terrified her to no end. It's face looked deformed, it's lips inflated, it's eyes bulging. Her throat made a gulping sound, as her body quivered.
"P-Please, don't do this!" she commanded with fear in her eyes.
The man didn't respond. Instead, he remained quiet, and slid his finger to her womanhood. His finger pressed deep inside, feeling it's dampness. Lifen's body tensed when she felt the stroking of her insides with his fingers. Her face had a blueish tint, and her body was rendered in a heated state. Her fluids covered the criminal hands once he had retracted it from her opening.
"Don't worry, just let this happen." He whispered, before unbuckling his pants.
His erection was already at it's fullest. Behind the mask, she could only imagine that his eyes were filled with a lecherous desire. With her legs already spread due to the shackles on the floor, he had an easy access. It pushed deep into her slit, before thrusting movements went forward. Why did her body react to such a vile touch? There must have been something wrong with her. She couldn't help but whimper in a pleasure she had yet to understand.
"W-Why are you doing this?" Lifen huffed after another few thrusts were given.
"Because, I want you to just let this happen."
"I-I don't even know who you are. I don't even know how I got here! I don't know what yo-- Aaah!"
His penetration continued, his sinister voice laughing as her pleasurable torment continued. His right hand held up upwards, his hips still moving back and forth. With his free left hand, he pulled off his mask which revealed his identity. Lifen's grimaced when she saw who it was. It was... No, no. It couldn't have been.
"N-No... I-I... I saw you get shot! Y-You're dead! I-I saw it! D-Daddy?!" Lifen squealed.
Her father smirked, and then lowered his head towards her neck. Small pecks were given before a whisper was heard. "Be prepare to be bred, you dirty Vahltrick. Embrace it."
It felt so good, but so wrong. The emotions, the concept, the words, and the fact that it was her father was so... disgusting, yet... her body listened. She gave into his words, and swayed her hips with the rhythm of his movements.
"I don't want this to be... how it is..." Lifen moaned with her eyes closed.
"It's too late. You are who you are, and I'll show you what you were meant to be."
His body started to shake. His pace quickened. This only meant one thing, and Lifen knew it. She shook her head with her teeth biting her the bottom portion of her lip.
"N-N-No, please! Please, please, please! No! I don't want to be this anymore! I ..." Her voice lowered, her eyes opening as she gave a sultry smile at her father. "I am a Vahltrick. It's time you made me more."
Lifen's entire body soon shot upwards in a cold sweat. She was back in her bedroom. Her breathing was heavy, her eyes wide as could be. What... what the!? Was it all a dream? Her hands patted her face, and then wiped the sweat which dripped down the top of her forehead. She was back in reality, which was good. Her father was dead, not having relations with her.
What kind of dream was that? What kind of sick pervert was she? She lifted herself from her bed only to notice that she had been sopping wet down below. It had even left a damp mark on her bed's sheets. Ugh, how sickening. These types of depraved thoughts made her question whether or not she was a decent person.
Her eyes looked over to her clock. It was time to get up anyway. She had a job to get done, and despite feeling crummy, her job was a duty she couldn't -- No, wouldn't -- deny.
When she arrived at the Astro-Corp station, she immediately went upstairs to the meeting room. This is where all of the Astro-Rangers gathered. She was early, as always, and took a seat in one of the chairs which surrounded the table in the center of the room.
Twenty minutes passed, and Astro-Blue, Astro-Yellow, Astro-Pink, Astro-Black, and Astro-Red, the leader, had arrived.
"Ahahaha, Astro-Green's already here!" Laughed Astro-Blue.
"There's no reward for being here early, Green." said Astro-Pink.
"Seriously, are you kissing up? F*** you." growled Astro Yellow.
"N-No, that's not what I--" stuttered Lifen.
"Oh shut it, Vahltrick. Don't go pulling that sh*t with us
"Alright, settle down," commanded Red.
"Yes sir," said almost every other ranger. They sat themselves in the empty seats.
How many months had she been an Astro-Ranger? Five months. Five months and they still treated her so horribly. Lifen clenched her fists which rested below the table. Her teeth started to grit at their mocking tones. She wanted to hit them, or beat them, or something, but knew she couldn't do a thing.
Maybe... maybe sometimes the fantasy of actually giving into her race's stereotype was actually desirable. N-No, what was she thinking? She had dedicated her life to not being like that. She didn't want to give in to her urges. She wanted to be respected, cherished, maybe even ... loved.
Love was a funny concept to Lifen, as she hadn't really felt it since her father had passed away. What was the perfect form of love? Was it a love like her fathers, though he was a criminal? Sure, he was the exact definition of the derogatory 'Vahltrick', but she adored him. Was there anything really wrong with being a criminal? In fact, it was... kind of appealing. Kind of sexy, even.
N-No! Bad. That was not the right train of thought. Her fantasies were clouding her judgement once again. She needed to just listen to Astro-Red's commands to take her mind off of her depraved desires of acceptance by ... whatever she wanted acceptance from.
"So," Red said aloud, his voice booming with authority. "I have leads on the Workforce transport going on here in Seenclah. That means that we have to bust them, arrest them, and rescue any slaves that they may have near them. If you feel even the slightest bit threatened by any..." Red briefly glanced at Lifen, and decided to change his wording. "... 'characters', remember to kill first, and arrest after. "
Lifen looked down when she heard her commanding officer's orders. Kill first, arrest after. Much like how her father was killed. It seemed that this corruption within the force was just a natural occurrence. Still, Lifen was eager to please, and had to put aside her feelings in order to uphold the law.
"Yes, sir!" Lifen shouted, standing with a salute.
"Settle down, Green. You're here to uphold the law, not kiss my ass," snipped Red.
"Y-Yes sir, I understand. My apologies, sir. I will uphold the law."
She could now feel the heated hatred from her fellow rangers emitting from their scowls, and glares. This wasn't an easy thing to deal with. The constant prejudice, the continuous snide remarks, the endless feeling of being unwanted, it was tough. But, she had to prove herself to be a valuable ally. No matter the cost. She couldn't give into being what most feared of the Vahlteri.
When the Astro-Corps had arrived at the location that the Workforce was apparently doing their trade, Lifen felt an unease that she couldn't shake. The Astro-Car parked outside of the old, abandoned factory, and each ranger piled out. They hit the side of their head to put on their visors.
Lifen was inclined to follow. She clicked the side of her head, which had her visor materialize on her face. Through the visor, she saw through her forensic vision. The rangers headed for the metal doors the building. They followed Red while remaining in a straight line. The metallic doors were locked, and needed quite a bit of force.
The red ranger gave a nod to Lifen, and called out. "Green, use your gravity bending to open this."
"Yes sir! Right away!" Lifen shouted.
"Not so loud, Green!" said yellow, "We want a little subtly so we can have the drop on them.
"R-Right! My apologies." Lifen said with her voice becoming hushed.
She used her hands to to preform a gravity bend with her telekinesis. Due to being jaded to firearms, her ranger training was mostly gravity-based. This required a lot of mental thought, and a chip implant in her head which allowed her to access a sense that most others didn't have. This type of chip was only issued to Astro-Rangers, as the public having such a device would be far too dangerous. It enhanced each ranger with a different ability of their choice. This, in turn, allowed her to use telekinetic abilities.
The doors were ripped off of their hinges after Lifen had used her abilities. The colorful squad of rangers headed inside with a haste unlike any other. It wasn't a subtle entrance, and was as loud, and aggressive as could be. Inside was, as expected, were a group of Workforce soldiers with slaves behind them, chained to the wall.
"ASTRO-CORPS!" screamed Red before firing his blaster towards the soldiers. One soldier had his head blown clean off after the leader took his shot. "Elimination Imminent."
The Workforce started to aim their firearms at the rangers. Blast after blast was delivered, but most of the rangers were too quick. Lifen, on the other hand, wasn't sure what to do. She was faced with a moral dilemma. Did she want to kill these workforce members, or subdue them? She didn't want to kill anyone, because that would make her a murderer, and murderers were what most Vahlteri were feared to be.
Instead of killing, Lifen decided to rough each Workforce with the gravity bending of her hands. Each soldier hit with her bending abilities were simply knocked unconscious. Her fellow rangers weren't so kind. Even the people that Lifen had subdued were soon shot, stabbed, or killed by her fellow rangers.
"W-WAIT!" Lifen yelled, her hands reaching outwards to her fellow rangers. "Those soldiers were subdued!"
The others seemed to ignore her, and continued on their murderous rampage of supposed lawful order. This was a defining moment in Lifen's life. Was she to let them do this? It was things like this that she felt were injustices to society. Killing people who were already down was awful. There was nothing respectable about this. What made the rangers any different from common criminals? Killing out of self defense was one thing, but this wasn't that.
Lifen's hand stuck out. She was there to uphold the law, not promote this bloodshed. Her telekinetic powers were turned from the Workforce soldiers, onto her fellow ranger. Yellow, who was shooting yet another workforce soldier, was soon subdued by being flung into the wall. Then came Black, who was thrown into a pile of boxes.
"Stop killing the Workforce! We're here to uphold the law, no--" Lifen felt a bash against her head, which made her fall to the floor face first. Her entire vision was a bit fuzzy. Her low voice started to groan. "Aughhh..."
"The Vahltrick turned against us! I knew it was a ruse! She's trying to take down the corp!" yelled their leader, Red. He had been the one who used his enhanced strength to knock her down.
All of the Workforce in the building had been killed. The remaining rangers, Blue and Pink, then decided to take care of their new common enemy; that enemy being Lifen. Kicks to her stomach, punches to her face, it all hurt. Everything hurt. Her team now saw her as a Vahltrick. Then again, they had always seen her as one. One final blow was delivered to her head by Red. This knocked her unconscious completely. Her head was bleeding profusely, her body broken in several areas.
"Leave her!" Red commanded, "Let's rescue the Slaves, and get out of here. Our work here is done."
That's exactly what happened. They left her. They left her like the Vahltrick she was. There was no sympathy, no second thought, only scorn, hate, and anger. She laid there for hours, barely clinging to life. Until... more Workforce soldiers had appeared. These were sent here to investigate what had happen to the former soldiers, and the slave trade that had gone wrong. When the Workforce found Lifen's body, they saw an opportunity. The soldiers scooped up her body, and took her. She would be saved, healed, and then put to work.
When Lifen awoke, she was in some sort of sickbay. It was definitely the sickbay of a ship. Around here were computers, monitors, and support for her life. She wasn't in any pain, which meant that she had been healed using medical technology. That was a relief, but where was she?
That's when her emerald eyes saw it. It was a Workforce logo on one of the computer screens. Oh sh*t. No, this wasn't good. Not in the least. Her fellow rangers didn't even arrest her. What did they do? Did they leave her to die, and then never mention her to the rest of the force? Did they make up some elaborate lie claiming that she betrayed the group, and was a double agent for the Workforce? Everyone would believe it too. All because she was a Vahlteri. Her eyes started to water. She'd become a slave now, wouldn't she? Was that any better than being a Vahltrick? She wondered.
"I'm sorry, Daddy." Lifen muttered.
She felt ashamed, as she couldn't even prove herself to be more. Her dad wanted more for her, but deep down, his philosophy was right. She'd likely go down in history as the 'Vahltrick who betrayed the Astro-Rangers', despite having the best intentions. She'd be remembered as a typical Vahltrick or maybe not remembered at all.
"I'm sorry I failed."
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[ This blog post is viewable to friends only ]
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07/19/2017 01:19 PM
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Tima2
"Listen well, Tima. The rules of a Minder are simple, but even simplicity is complex. Imagine complexity as something that is large. Which means that it's antonym, simplicity, would be the opposite; something small. But, if we look at something small in great detail, we can see how complex it really is. It's outward appearance may be something insignificant, but what is seemingly insignificant may be something of great significance. Think of time like this. Moments in time are small, and seem insignificant, but in the grander scheme of our existence, these small make up the large streams of time. By understanding the small, we may be able to predict the large. As a Minder, these small calculations will lead us to predicting the large."
Master Niba seemed to know what he was talking about. Yet, he did not seem to think that I had already thought of such things. I watched him speak so confidently, instructing me on the rules, but I could not agree with him. It was true that in the grander scheme of things, some insignificance could make up a larger significance. However, with that being understood, the chaotic variables that may be the seemingly small that Minders must understand are entirely unpredictable. If time, more specifically the present and the future, are based on these small variables that we must analyze for significantce in order to predict, this leaves us with endless variables to take into account.
My hand raised from where I was sitting, my voice speaking up.
"I am sorry, to disrupt you, but I inquire information. If these small calculations must be variables we take into account, this leaves all variables at an infinite. If the future is, as you said, based on these 'small' things, we can always dive deeper, and go smaller. This means that there is no accurate way of predi--"
"Now wait a moment, Tima. I understand where you are coming from. You are going to deep, which I would advise you not to. Do not take in all variables, only the ones that are important. If the small details seem important, take them into consideration. If not, you need not worry."
"Your commands... perplex me, Master. I apologize if I am being rude. However, you did say that these seemingly minuscule moments or variables must be accountable for possibilities. In a chaotic world, the slightest variable, or shift in paradigm, could be catastrophic, life altering, o--"
"Could be, Tima. Could be. Look deep, but not too deep. I appreciate you questioning me, Tima, however... I will need you to listen, rather than question. As Minders, we must be vigilant, but not too vigilant. We should focus on the what seems to be the best, not what may or may not be best."
"I-I..." I probably seemed a bit flustered by being brushed off, and unable to speak any further. I could feel my face becoming hot, my heart sinking in anxiousness, and my brain lost in the confusion that Niba's paradoxical lessons were inducing.
"But what seems best may or may not be what is be--"
"Do not think that deep about it. Use intuition, and knowledge you know of the future, and try to predict what alterations to the past could lead to a different timeline. The little details do matter, but getting worked up over them is wrong. Remember, in our world, every little option, choice, an--"
"Yes, I know. They all lead to parallel, alternate universes in which another scenario may have happened. These altered scenarios lead to infinite possibilities, and these possibilities lead to an infinite array of universes. I have studied extensively on this subject, Master Niba."
"So then, Tima; you must know that our society relies on instinct, intuition, and the ability to break down the probability, and likelihood of a scenario occuring within the current timeline we exist in. As a Minder, you must take into account the unaccountable, and make decisions knowing that no matter what you choose, altering the present could have drastic changes."
"If that is the case, Master Niba, then all of this minding is completely, and utterly pointless. The amount of chaos that exists in this universe is infinite, and the infinite amount of chaos that we do not take into account could lead to, roughly, an infinite amount of chaotic possibilities. Probability is meaningless when dealing with infinite. "
"LISTEN TO ME, TIMA!" Master Niba snapped, his cold, dark eyes glaring at me. "Time has chosen you to be the next minder. So many time-lines have you as the one who leads our people. I did not choose you to be the Minder, the greater amount of time did. So heed my words, mind my advice, and take into consideration that the entire race of Tahreehians of this time-line count on you to guide them to safety."
I shook my head, frustrated at his scolding. Yet I passively looked away from my mentor. I did not ask to be the Minder, and time did not choose me. He chose me by traveling through time, and seeing the timelines. That was not destiny, that was not time's choice. That was his choice. Beings are not born with purpose, or existence. Maybe they may find it through personal value, but with as chaotic as time, and the universe is, you would have to have such a great ego to claim that 'time' had chosen you. My ego did not allow me to be so arrogant.
"Listen, Tima..." Master Niba said in a softer tone. "I understand that you are confused, frightened, and worried. But I am here to teach you. And if you do exceed in so many timelines as the Minder of our race, then there is something special about you, and the potential that you may have. Is there a chance you will fail? Yes. Is there a chance you will not? Also yes. So try your hardest to be the latter, Tima. I see you as our greatest hope."
I took a deep breath. His words, while worrying, did make me smile. To think someone of such great importance thought of me on the same level. I knew it did not make any sense, yet I could not deny the possibilities he was offering me. I was reluctant, but willing. I had to learn to mind time. I had to learn all that I could, even if I knew there were infinite odds against me for chaotic reasons I could not even begin to grasp, or attempt to understand.
Days had passed. Or perhaps they were months? They always felt short when obtaining knowledge on how to mind time. This day in particular was going to be the day that I finally traveled to the future, through alternate timelines at once. I was told to equip my body suit, as it was designed in order to allow me to travel.
I looked in the mirror. It was... tight. Perhaps a little too tight. In fact, it made my slender body reveal most of my shape.
It was also itchy, and clung to certain areas that were uncomfortable. The outfit was a bluish color, and glowed in certain areas. Just near the waist, where a belt would be if it were pants, was a clock which displayed the date, the month, and the year.
I turned my back to the mirror, and peered over my shoulder. There I saw my backside. While I was never one who cared for their appearance, I did believe that, in this suit, one might find me to be incredibly desirable. Especially the opposite sex. Or maybe even the same. It was an embarrassing thought that made me blush a bit, but a thought that I could not prevent myself from having.
After my lengthy, vain gaze at my reflection, I made my way to the Minder's training area. There Master Niba awaited my presence. He too was in his body suit, which, admittedly, showed a bit too much of his body for me to enjoy. It was hard to take him with the utmost seriousness, but I attempted to do so.
"Welcome back, Tima." Niba greeted. "I see you have found your suit. I understand that it maybe a bit uncomfortable at first, but it an absolute necessity. As you know, our people do not have the ability to travel through time naturally. It has become a science that our culture has studied for years. For various reasons, physical time travel has never been implemented. By that I mean that we cannot travel through time in a physical sense. Your body will not travel through time, but your consciousness. These suits allow us to keep our bodies in this current time era, and transfer our consciousness to a future self. If you take off the suit, your current self cannot travel to a future self, and your future self cannot receive the consciousness of your current self."
"I-I... understand. A-At least I believe I do." I did not understand. Not even in the least. This science was beyond what I had studied.
"Wonderful. Now, as your consciousness travels, know that you may only travel through future timelines where you continue to exist. If you are dead in any timeline, you may not be able to see the future of it, as you have no body to mind-shift to. The timelines you can travel to are also only available if the current present sets these timelines in motion, and are a current possibility."
I did not like hearing that. This proved my theory, as I had thought before. If everything changes rapidly, any form of chaos could make a distant future chaotic, or one where I do not exist in. This made my face pale, but I accepted it in order to assume my duties.
"I understand." I stated with reluctant and uncertainty.
"There is one more thing, Tima. As Minders of time, we never travel back in time before the present we are mind-shifting from. If we do, the simplest of actions could cause us to no longer exist. So, for an example, if say, you were to mind-warp from this moment, to four minutes ago when you had the suit on, the consequences could be catastrophic, and you may very-well lose your existence. Always travel to the future, and back to the present that you were shifting from."
Oh no. That was worrying, but I did understand that. I had to understand it with every fiber of my being, for if I did not, I could end up no longer existing. My head gave a nod to my master to indicate that I understood. He seemed pleased, and then pointed to the clock on his waist. Much like the clock on mine, it was flipped upside.
"Now take a look at this. This clock is positioned the way it is so you may look down on your waist, see the date, the time, and the exact seconds. This clock will save the time and date you shifted from, and also save the time that you arrive in. Since you are a beginner, I am going to teach you how to go one hour into the future. Progressively, we will go further, and further. But for now, it will be simple."
Niba pointed to his waist once again. There were different modules on the clock which slowly ticked down time. He pressed it a few, and then commanded me to follow.
"Do as I do. Press the shift button, and then calm yourself as if you are about to sleep. This will lunge your consciousness into the times-stream of possibilities. Now, I want to warn you before you take off, when you return, there may be altercations to your current personality. This is because you will be traveling between time, reality, and possibilities. Alternate versions of your future self may linger in your thought patterns due to shifting. It does wear off after so long, but you should be warned."
I understood, yet the feeling of knowing that my personality may warp due to the mind-shifting was worrying. This was my moment. This was where I finally put my training into action. I took a deep breath, and hit the module on my waist. I looked down at the time, and took note of it. Closing my eyes, I got into a relaxed state. Yet, I did not feel anyt--
There it was. My entire consciousness was floating through an array of colorful possibilities which revealed themselves before my eyes. It was like zooming through still frames of a life I had yet to live. I could see each moment, each current possibility, and it was breathtaking. Could I stop myself at any given moment? I was not going to try. Not when I was tasked to go one full hour into the future.
When my consciousness reached it's destination, I felt as if I had been thrown back into existence. It was a jerking feeling which made my current self's eyes open wide, gasping for air. Where was I exactly one hour from now? I was not sure, but I was about to find out. When my eyes opened, I tried to move my body, but could not.
I was still woozy, and my vision blurry. When things finally came into focus, I took note of my surroundings. No. No. No. No. No. What... what future is this? I looked down at my wrists, they were shackled in restraints, my ankles as well. I was starting to panic. I had seemed to be placed in some sort of cold, dimly lit ship. That's when I saw it. It as the logo for 'The Work Force': An intergalactic slave ring that abducted people from various origins. Why? Why was I here of all places? Had I been kidnapped?
I... I had to get back to my present. I had to tell Master Niba of what an hour into the future had in store for me. My hands reached for the module on my belt, I pressed the buttons, and while difficult to do it in such restraints, I was able to input the sequence to go back to my present. I calmed myself, and then started to shift. When I returned to my present self, I saw Master Niba smiling, and looking quite proud.
"So, did you enjoy your first shift?" He asked cheerfully.
"Master Niba, in an hour, I am going to be abducted by the work force!" I panted heavily.
"Hm? No, no. Tima, you are experience shock from a possible reality, and since realities are infinite, you just happen to feel the same as one of your alternate timelines."
"No! I saw it! I shifted there! I am going to be abducted! I-I... I have to prevent this from happening! I have to find what causes this, and stop it at on--"
Niba approached me, and placed his hand on my shoulder. "Tima, calm down. I experienced the same fright that you felt the first time I shifted. You learn to cop--"
"SHUT UP! You do not understand!" I broke away from his grip, and turned my back to my master. "You did not see what I saw! You do not know what I know! I have to prevent this! I have to run! I have to! I cannot be taken by the Work Force!"
That is what I did. I ran. I ran from the training center for Minders, and left Niba. I heard him call my name, telling me to come back, but I was far too panicked to listen. Eventually I had reached the outskirts of of my home city. I took a quick moment to catch my breath. My body heaved with each huff. How...? How could I be taken by the Work Force? It did not make any sense! It just did not a--
"FREEZE!" I heard a voice call out to me.
There was now a laser pointer on my chest. I looked up only to find a squad of Work Force collectors. They charged towards me, and started to beat on me, before pushing me to the ground. They soon placed shackles on my wrists, and ankles.
That is when it dawned on me. The hour that I traveled to, that.... that happened because I ran away. I sealed this fate with my own decision. I made this reality possible with my choice. I did not prevent it because I thought irrationally. Chaos was everywhere, and this moment of chaos was inflicted by myself. I was going to be put in the Work Force because I did not calculate that my own actions could seal my fate. I only knew how to travel an hour ahead, so I could not get a clear view on what to do.
What was going to happen to me?
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06/24/2017 09:01 PM
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KW0 Chapter 1
Knock, Knock, Knock! Three knocks, and then a fourth one soon followed. The air was as humid as could be out in this area; out in the middle of absolutely nowhere. How she managed to survive in such a state, without visiting town much was a mystery to him, but he had faced bigger mysteries.
The door slowly creaked open, and soon a woman garbed in black. She wore a black sun hat, likely to hide the monstrosities on the sides of her head that he had been warned about. She looked meek, pale, and as if she never left the house much. From the rumors he had heard, it wasn't all that surprising.
"You Miss Strays?" asked the male.
She tilted her head to the side to get a good view on who was before her. Blonde, rugged, riddled with stubble on his face, but lean in most areas. Strands of his fair hair stuck out from under his hat. He was dressed in basic rancher attire, and, for the most part, seemed to be typical. Only one thing stood out, and that was the mask he wore around his face. It was a thin, black mask that had two eye holes sloppily cut out of it. It immediately raised her brow.
"Yes," the woman replied, "I am Sable Strays, the accursed ewe, forsaken by the jubilant , which cast their undying judgement upon thy pre--"
"Yeah, listen, lady. I don't mean to mean'ta be rude or nothin', but we ain't got time to just sit around, shoot the breeze."
"Ah, I see..." replied Sable.
"Yeah, so if you don't mind, let's get a move it on. We got a deadline we gotta meet. And yer pretty important'ta this whole thing. Ain'tcha?"
"Importance is that of the beholder. My value diminishes with the passing of the chilliest of mornings, scalding of afternoons, and loneliest of nights. My death beckons for the execution of my very soul. Do you hear it call? "
"Huh?" The male groaned, looking quite confused. "Uhhh, yeah. Let's just go. You got somethin' for me'ta carry? And packages? Yer dress is real poofy, so you got any more yer bringin'?"
"No." Sable shook her head.
"Alright then. Boss wanted you kept safe. Reckon he cares a whole awful lot about ya considerin' he had me bring a carriage. Hot damn, was I surprised."
"A... carriage?" Sable seemed to be piqued by this revelation.
"Yeah, c'mon. We'll talk on our ride there."
The two made their way from the porch of the ranch. A majority of the ranch was empty, with nothing. It made the man raise a few eyebrows, and show a big of skepticism on why Sable had owned a ranch if she wasn't going to raise any animals.
When they approached the carriage, Sable seemed to be a bit nervous at the sight of the two horses which were attached to them. Still, she climbed aboard on the front. passengers seat, and awaited for the masked man to follow. When he did, he used his reigns, and commanded the horses to pull the vehicle.
"So," said the male, "Name's Jesse, by the way. Jesse Speeds, but you can call me Bullet. Lil' nickname I got."
Sable stared down at her lap in silence. The sun was beating down on her hat, but covering a majority of her face so no light would touch her skin.
"Somethin' wrong, Miss Strays?" Bullet asked after not getting a response.
"A title such as bullet chills me like snow which covers the tips of mountains. Bullets proclaim themselves to be god, ceasing the existence of the innocence, and punishing the lives of the guilty. Such a title is a tale, a tale of demise."
"I ain't educated, Miss Strays. Ain't like you, but I reckon yer sayin' that I'm a killer?"
"Precisely."
"Ain't like that. Ain't never killed no man, ain't never hurt no innocent. Ain't no god of demise or whatever yer sayin'. Got the name for bein' shot as many times as I have. Been shot nearly 20 times, and ain't dead yet, but got the scars to prove it."
Sable seemed doubtful of these claims, but decided to humor.
"Oh, if that be certain, why do you garb yourself in cloths of uncertainty? Why are you masked? Why was your life attempted to be claimed by the bone-curdling fingers of death?"
"Why I wear a mask, and why I been shot? That what you askin'?"
"Yes."
"Don't need no reason'ta get shot, Miss Strays. And this ain't no mask, it's my face."
How peculiar. Sable wasn't sure what exactly it meant, but imagined that there was a long tale that she hadn't heard. She remained quiet, and didn't respond to his response. In fact, it got silent from there. She simply watched the scenery go by for a few minutes, before Jesse spoke.
"So, you're a writer, aint'cha? Never read no book. Shoot, I can't even piece together no word. You bein' educated, and writer, and all real impressive considerin' you're a..."
"An ewe?" Sable finished his sentence, and looked to him with a sadness in her eyes, and shame in her voice.
"Nah, wasn't gonna say that. Was gonna say 'woman,' but... guess bein' an ewe is pretty damn bad too."
"Are you implying that the true disadvantage which haunts my existence is my gender?"
"... Uhhh, yer words are kinda confusin', but sure."
"I see..." Sable became silent once again.
"Listen, I didn't mean nothin' by it. Don't wanna offend no lady. Just thought I'd ask. I mean, boss says yer a pretty big part of this whole thing, and it's been creepin' on me. Been wonderin' why we need someone to document our travels in the first place."
"I am unaware of why he chose someone of such misfortune myself, Mr. Speeds."
"Maybe he just wanted a pretty girl around or somethin'?"
"Then the eerie spirit of delusions has wrapped it's bony, writhing finger around his neck, blinding him."
"Y'know what, maybe I should just be quiet the rest of the way. That suit yer fancy, Miss Strays?"
Sable didn't respond, and instead leaned back in her seat, and tried to breathe her hardest through the corset that she had been wearing under her thick, black dress. The heat was enough to make her feel tired, and she soon fell asleep.
She later awoke to slight pats and shakes to her shoulder. Her dark, grey eyes started to open and look around. The writer then realized it was Bullet who had been vibrating her in such a way.
"Hey, sleepy, we're here." He said, his voice a bit shushed.
"Ah, very well."
After sitting up, she glanced around the area, only to see that the carriage was parked in front of a building in the dead center of town. This caused her to have a great anxiety. There would surely be people inside of this saloon. Would her hat cover her deformities? Would it be enough. Perhaps she had bitten off more than she could chew.
Bullet had stepped off of the carriage, and went over to the side where she sat. He held his hand up for her to grab it. She soon did, and he helped her step down. He then walked her inside of the saloon. As she imagined, the saloon was crowded. This made her heart race. Her anxiety was building. What if her hat were to fall off? What if everyone were to see? Surely she'd be outcast, and hated. Stoned, or perhaps hung. Was her imagination truly getting the better of her?
Luckily, none of that happened. Instead, Bullet took her to a back room. One where most would play poker. It had been rented out, so only a select few people were allowed to enter. When the two entered, they were greeted with a group of people sitting around the poker table. To keep themselves amused, they seemed to be playing again.
In the group was a man with a bowler. He tapped on the table, checking his cards.
"Maxwell," he called out, looking to another man who happened to be sleeping in his chair. "MAXWELL!"
"H-Huh!?" The sleeping man awoke, quite shocked. "Ha ha! Is this the dream, or . . . ?"
"It's your turn," the man with the bowler hat.
"Ah yes. If this is, perchance, an a lucid dream, I will have EXACTLY the hand that I need!" Maxewell said with confidence.
The man set down his cards, revealing a shoddy hand. He seemed so discouraged than how he was mere seconds ago.
"Ah, I see. So this is either reality, or a truly hellish nightmare..." Maxwell swallowed his own sadness the best to his ability.
"Not only that, Maxwell, but you've now lost all of your money to me." said the man in the bowler hat.
"Oh dear god, someone please pinch me. This must be a nightmare. Please, wake me up!" Maxwell shrieked, slamming his hands down on the table.
The moment he did that, a knife went deep into Maxwell's hand, pinning it to the table. Blood ran down all over the cards that he had played. The person who forced the blade into his hand was a young woman with a sinister gleam in her eye. She wore a red hood which flowed down her back like a cape. The lower half of her outfit was similar to a short, frilly dress. Her dark, slanted eyes narrowed at the man who she had stabbed.
"Me helped, Remmington-san!" she exclaimed, "Do me get reward now?"
Her broken English was an indicator that she wasn't from this country, and barely knew how to speak the language.
"A-Ah!" Maxwell groaned in pain, tears flowing down his eyes. "A-Akka, I said pinch me, not stab me!"
Maxwell used his free hand to pull out the knife from both his hand and the table. He squealed in pain as he did so. Akko, on the other hand, simply smiled. It looked as if she had gotten off to doing such a cruel act.
"Me sorry, Remmington-san! Me thought you want pain..." Akka tried her hardest to play innocent and coy. She folded her hands behind her back. "Me didn't think you hurt from that."
"Y-You foolish woman." Maxwel Remmington remarked.
Remmington held the knife, and tried his hardest to soak the blood dripping from his hand with a nearby cloth he had grabbed from the table. Luckily, he was a doctor, and knew how to treat himself. "
"Uh, did I come at a bad time?" Bullet spoke up.
Sable was quite terrified by the woman in the hood, as well as the blood that was flowing everywhere. She, however, remained quiet, and didn't speak whatsoever.
The man in the bowler hat looked up from his cards. He seemed to have been ignoring the violence around him, but when Bullet had spoken, his attention was caught.
"Mr. Speeds!" The man in the bowler hat greeted, standing up from his chair.
"Mr. Gambit, it''s good to see you," Bullet replied.
The two approached each other, and shook each other's hands as if they were business partners.
"So glad you could finally make it, and this must be," Mr. Gambit's eyes turned to Sable. He extended his hand out to her, "Ms. Sable Strays, right? You're the writer. I am a big fan of your poetry. Brilliant stuff. You descriptions are so bone chilling."
Sable was didn't want to be rude, so shook his Mr. Gambit's hand, but remained silent.
"O-Oh, where are my manners?" Gambit chuckled, "Matthew Gambit. I'm the one who hired you to write the events of our little adventure. 8 dollars a day, and you get to get out of the house. Where you can go wrong, right? Ha ha."
Sable's initial thoughts on Gambit were that he seemed pleasant, but slightly awkward. His thin mustache, and bowler hat made him look like quite the suitor for most women. However, she never thought much about suitors, or having one of her own.
"With us," Gambit went on, "I have Dr. Maxwell Remmington."
Gambit pointed towards the man in the bowler hat.
"This is Akka Nensho," he then pointed at the Japanese woman with the red hood. "And of course, you met Mr. Speeds. So, how about you have a seat, and I'll explain to you what's going to happen."
Mr. Gambit walked back to his seat, as both Bullet and Sable found their own around the poker table. Sable was constantly shifting her eyes back and forth uncomfortably around this strange group of people. Especially Remmington who was applying pressure to his bloody hand.
"Ahaha, so an accomplished, educated author, and a woman at that," Remmington remarked in regards to Sable. "That's quite the feat."
Sable nodded her head.
"Never been one for fiction myself, but I do find the surreal settings to be in my favor. I'm a medical doctor, but as of lately, I've been pursing knowledge on the realm of dreams. Lucid dreaming to be exact. Have you ever heard of it, Miss Strays?"
Sable shook her head, "I cannot say that I have."
"The ability to control one's self in a dream. To have an absolute control over a reality! Quite amazing, is it not?"
The writer tipped down her hat to hide her face a bit from Remmington, as well as give a brief nod.
"Stop harassing the woman, Maxwell," said Gambit, "Let's get onto business. Mr. Speeds, Maxwell, Miss Nensho, let's talk about the task at hand."
From his coat pocket, Mr. Gambit pulled out a piece of paper with writing on it. Unfolded it's creased body, and placed it on the table.
"So, do any of you believe in... monsters?" Gambit asked.
"Me believe in monsters, Gambit-san!" Said Akka, "Me monster hunter!"
"Monsters? Ahaha! Don't be so ridiculous, Matthew!" Remming chuckled.
"Whoa! Whoa now! Monsters? What'cha gettin' at, Gambit? I thought we were doin' some sorta bounty hunt?"
"..." Sable remained quiet.
"Well, imagine it as a bounty. Imagine me as paying all of you to find and capture a specific group of people. These people are inhuman, and very much... monsters."
"Matthew, please!" Remmington scolded, "What are you getting at?"
"Well, that's the thing, Maxwell. You see, the world is shrouded in mystery, myths, and monsters. There's an underlying truth to all that is mysterious. A group of people are said to have made a pact with death, and death has a name. His name? Mysterious. Mr. Mysterious. Don't believe me? Fine, leave then. But, you won't get paid for coming out here, and you won't get the reward that this could have."
Remmington looked as if he was contemplating leaving, but for some reason, a feeling in his gut told him to stay.
"Alright, fine," said the doctor, "Tell us more. Tell us how we can possibly have monsters in this world."
"Well, Max, we have a monster in this room, don't we? Miss Strays," Gambit gave his full attention to Sable, and motioned her hand. "Take off your hat. Show him."
Sable paled. How dare he? This was her most personal secret, the thing that she had hated about herself more than anything. The thing that had ostracized her since her birth.
"How dare you..." Sable spat.
"Miss Strays, if you want my money, you will do it." Gambit stated sternly.
Was she really going to do this? If not, she may not have had the funds to continue living. This was all so... embarrassing. Her hands trembled as the reached for the brim of her hat. She pulled it off revealing two sheepish horns on the sides of her head.
"Jesus Chris--" Remmington gulped in shocked, and fell back in his chair, his eyes as wide as could be. He looked sickened.
Bullet turned his own attention away to the horns which stood out. He started to cross himself while reciting a prayer.
Akka, on the other hand, clapped excitedly. "What fine head for mounting! Me never kill sheep girl..."
This was all so emotionally scarring. The writer swiftly grabbed her sunhat, and placed it back over her head. She tried her hardest not to get too emotional about it, but it was hard to do.
"See, boys? Now that we know that monsters exist, let's discuss what I was trying to tell everyone!" Gambit went back to the paper he had placed on the table.
The fact that Sable had been called monster resonated in her mind. It was such a terrible word to be called, but apparently that's what she was. Her heart sunk as much as she did in her chair.
"The world is made up of mysteries. Mysteries are made by monsters, and monsters make myths. Now, this myth is that of Death. Death is not just a spirit. It's a living, breathing thing. A man. A man named Mr. Mysterious. And this man of death makes pacts with the dead, and brings them back to life as ghosts, in order for them to do their bidding."
Remmington picked himself up from where he had fallen. After readjusting his chair, he plopped down in it, and held his bleeding hand.
"Alright, I'm following," said Remmington.
"Oooh! Death hunt! Me am excited ! ! ! What pay?" Akka asked.
"Alright, so why'd ya choose us?" Bullet said with skepticism.
"..." Sable remained quiet.
"Well, you see, I needed a doctor for this hunt, so I chose Maxwell. I needed someone who was an expert in combat, and fighting, but knew how to keep his prey alive. And that's why I choose you, Mr. Speeds. After all, you're never kill any of your bounties, do you? And you have such a high resilience to death. So, you're my weapon in this. I also needed an expert tracker for the supernatural, which is why I imported Ms. Nensho, and lastly, I needed a writer to document our journey. Her being a monster herself just happened to be a coincidence."
Sable looked away when he called her a monster again.
"As for the pay, it's 8 dollars a day, but if we succeed in our mission, you'll get something even better than money. You can consider it a form of richness that money can't buy."
Akka started to jump up and down happily. "Ooooh! Me so interested! So very, very interested. Hee, hee! Let do it!"
"And what is this exactly, Matthew?" Remmington asked.
Gambit smiled, "I can't tell you yet, but trust me, it'll be worth it."
Bullet nodded, "Well sh*t, I ain't got nothin' better to do, and 8 dollars a day? Damn, who am I to argue? Where the hell do we start?"
"Our starting point is here." Gambit showed the paper to everyone else. It was a newspaper article detailing a man who was claimed to be dead being alive. "This man's name is Klaas Winters. A dutch immigrant who was shot directly in the head during a shootout. Yet, he came back alive, and is now running a plantation somewhere south of Los Almas. We find him, we ask him how he's alive, and when he tell us, we'll be on our merry way. You understand?"
Bullet nodded, "Sh*t, for 8 dollars a day, I'll understand anythin'."
"... I am merely in this for curiosity, Matthew. So, yes. I understand."
"Me understand, me ready! Me say let go now!" Akka shouted.
The only person yet to respond was, of course, the monstrous ewe-woman, Sable. Gambit smiled, and waved a hand at the darkly dressed woman.
"Miss Strays? Are you going to write our tale?"
Sable didn't know how to respond, or even how to take this. This all seemed like a lot of work, and time to be spending around a group of people who feared her. Was this truly worth it, or was death, and being unable to pay debt better? She took a deep breath, and with much reluctance, fear, and anxiety stated . . .
". . . I will."
What had she gotten herself into?
[ To be continued ]
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06/24/2017 09:01 PM
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KW0 Chapter 2
"June 12, 1889
Death beckons, fear creeps, another week diminishes into gaunt nothingness. Such a violent crusade for a men who wish to take thine own destiny. Klaas Winters was the title given to our enemy, yet... no such face coincides."
Sable sat in the back of the carriage which carried her and Akka in the back. It a dark, cloudy day full of gloom. Sable often thought of these days as the types of days that matched her best. But in an outwards appearance, as well as how she felt internally. It's cool breeze reminded her of the chilling loneliness she felt, despite being surrounded by masses.
Akka peered over the sheepish girl's shoulder as she wrote in her notebook. The monster hunter's breath was loud, and hot on her neck.
"Me want to know what you writing," she stated, "You write funny? Me no know how to read English."
Sable closed her notebook, and scooted forward, escaping the breath of the murderous monster hunter.
"Alas, I am afraid that there is nothing humorous inscribed on these pages. They are desolate words, forever transcending from pen to page, forever locked in a state of perpetual misery."
"Oh me see. Wait! Me no see anything! Me blind to what you just say!" Akka looked confused, and upset by the writer's explanation.
Sable shook her head in irritation. The writer didn't have to explain this to someone such as Akka. Someone like her could never understand what she felt in the first place. She decided to remain quiet, and turn lay down in the back, bed area of the carriage. Her horned head rested on her arms, as her eyes closed.
"Hey you sleep now?" Akka asked as she came closer, gently shaking the ewe-woman.
"Leave my side at once," Sable commanded.
"Me bored! Me need stimulation!"
This woman was insufferable! Sable lifted herself up, and broke away from Akka's grip. Her head peered out of the moving carriage's coverings, and looked at the driver's seat where Bullet had been steering.
"Mr. Speeds," Sable called out, "May I ask that you converse with with Mr. Gambit, or Mr. Remmington, and advise them to take their own grips on Miss Nensho. She is maddening. I feel my brain deliquesce with each word she endlessly spouts into my ear. Madness comes, madness goes, yet the madness she brings i--"
"You ain't gettin' along with Miss Nensho?" Bullet raised a brow, as he turned his attention away from the forest path the the horses carrying the carriage walked down. "What'll ya have me do, Miss Strays? You want'ta ask Mr. Remmington if he can take a crack at her? How's 'bout I ask Remmington to steer the carriage, I'll take his horse, and Miss Nensho can ride with me. Sound good?"
Sable nodded, "Wonderful. Her insufferable noise curtains my creativity, blackens my thoughts, and era--"
"Remmington!" Bullet shouted up head to the man in a long, top hat.
The doctor was riding a darkly colored horse. His horse stopped it's tracks, and carriage that Nensho, Sable, and Bullet rode in followed. Bullet stepped off of the vehicle, and approached Remmington.
"Our lovely lady friends are havin' a little spout. You mind takin' the reigns, and drivin' Miss Strays?"
Remmington smiled, and descended from his horse. "Of course, Mr. Speeds! I've been awaiting my moment to speak with Miss Strays for quite sometime! Ha ha! She's a writer, and having someone else who's educated really tickles me pink!"
"Don't think women are that good at havin' conversation."
"Absolute nonsense!" Remmington exclaimed. "My mother was a brilliant woman. And this was without an education. So, Miss Strays warm conversation will likely warm me on such a dreary day! Here, take care of my horse! Her name is Black Betty. Hmhm."
Remmington began to chuckle, as he handed Bullet the horse.
"Treat her well, as she's treated me! She does love merry tunes as she walks, so remember that!"
"Yeah, okay." Bullet took a deep breath and shook his head in disapproval.
The doctor walked towards the carriage and boarded it, climbing directly onto it's passenger seat. Bullet, on the other hand, raised his voice, and climbed up onto the horse.
"Miss Nensho! C'mon out of the carriage.. Come ride with me, ya hear?"
In a sudden burst of energy, Akka jumped out of the back area of the carriage, and rushed towards the horse, jumping on the back.
"Now me ride like the wind!" She cried out in excitement, pointing a finger forward.
The sudden weight on the horse's back side started the creature, and caused her to start galloping forward as fast as it could, shooting Bullet and Akka off, and away from the other two in their party.
"Oh dear," Remmington gasped, "It seems that Mr. Speeds and Miss Nensho will be arriving at our destination before us. Ah ha ha! That does not matter now though, does it Miss Strays? You and I can keep each other warm with out conversation."
Sable groaned angrily. The world was cruel. She got rid of one person who kept talking to her, only to gain a new one.
Akka and Bullet were zooming off into the forest. The masked man kept trying to calm the horse that was spooked, but seemed to be unable to his. His arms clung around the creature's neck tightly. Akka, on the other hand, was fearless. She stood up straight on the rear end of the horse, moving her hips from side to side.
"Me ride on the horses all day~!" she sang merrily.
"Oh sh*t, oh sh*t!" Bullet shivered.
Akka noticed how cowardly Bullet had been acting, and decided to sit herself back down on the speeding horse. She tapped on the blond, masked man's back.
"Speeds, you scare? Why you scare?"
"B-Because this horse ain't slooo-- Whoaaa!"
The horse stopped directly in it's tracks, flinging the two people riding on it forward, as well as stumbling itself. It quickly stood up, whinnied loudly, and than ran off into the forest leaving Bullet and Akka behind.
Bullet had landed face first in a pile of forest dirt, and Akka had landed perfectly on Bullet's back. She was standing up straight and looking around. The masked man pushed Akka off of him, and sat up for a few brief seconds, just before falling back on his back.
"Sweet Jesus!" Bullet huffed, "I almost got killed? And now we--"
"Shhh, shh..." Akka shushed, "There something in woods. Something big..."
"W-Wha?"
It took a bit of effort, but Bullet was able to eventually stand on his feet, and dust himself off. He tried his hardest to stay vigilant. His eyes shifted back and forth.
"You really hear somethin', Miss Nensho?"
"Me hear it all..." She whispered back.
Akka got down on her knees, and pressed her face into the dirt. Her nose started to sniff at the floor profusely.
"Ooooh, me sense monster..."
"Y-You sense what?"
Humans were one thing, but if there were actual monsters present, Bullet was definitely not feeling confident in himself. He reached for the gun at his side, and pulled the firearm from his holster.
"Where, Miss Nensho? Where?"
"Me busy, Speeds! Me busy!"
Akka reached for the crossbow on her back, and shot an arrow that pierced the bark of a nearby tree. On the arrow was long rope that connected it to the weapon. She pressed a button on the crossbow, and pulled herself towards the tops of the tree leaving Bullet behind. She was now nowhere to be seen.
Bullet stood there in the center of the forest with no one else. He looked panicked, and afraid of what was going to happen. Especially with the warnings of there being some sort of monster out in the woods.
"W-Wait, Miss Nensho! You're a woman, you're gonna end up g-gettin' hurt or somethin'!"
Sweat ran down the masked man's forehead. He wiped it with the backside of his hand, and continuously turned. The horse was gone, Sable and Remmington were far behind, and Akka was someplace that he didn't know. That's when he heard it.
A loud howl echoed through the forest. It was loud, which meant it was nearby. This only worried the gunslinger even more.
"M-Miss Nensho, are you still around? Ain't funny to leave behind! Gettin'... G-Gettin' real worried about yo--"
A snarl was heard, and in a flash, Bullet was charged after by a large, wolf-like creature. It was ginormous. Nearly the size of a small house. It pushed him forward, and onto his back. His gun fell off to the side in a pile of dirt. The monster loomed over him, it's mouth opened wide as slobber fell down onto the masked man's face. He was unable to move with how the creature was positioned under over him.
This predicament couldn't get any worse, or at least that's what he had thought. In just mere moments, more of these gigantic, wolf-like creatures started to surround him. It was almost as if they were about to enter a feeding frenzy on his lean corpse. He shook his head back and forth, his body trembling. The wolf then pressed it's long, tongue, slimy to Bullet's cheek, tasting the saltiness of his skin.
This was the end, wasn't it? He closed his eyes and accepted his fate. His mind raced, praying prayers to god above, hoping that there was a heaven, and hoping that his sins were be judged fairly. That's when he felt it. Warm liquid spilling all over his face. His eyes opened only to see the large wolf which trapped him now bleeding from it's neck.
Atop of the wolf's back was the tiny Akka. In her hand she had a very large knife. The wolf fell forward, all of it's dead weight now crushing Bullet underneath it. Akka jumped from that wolf, to a few of the others that surrounded the area. One more had it's neck slit, and then she went towards another. She was so fast that they barely had any time to react. After killing at least six of these wolves, there but one more left. She zoomed towards it, and stabbed it repeatedly in the heart.
Now that all of the wolves were dead, the monster hunter went to help Bullet out from underneath the wolf that laid on top of him. Despite being so short, she seemed to have immense strength, as she lifted it with little struggle. She threw the body into a pile of other dead wolves, and held out her hand.
"Me sorry, Speeds-san! Me knew they come, so me use you as bait! They kill for scare prey." Akka smiled innocently.
Bullet stood up, and wiped his face of the wolf slobber. He was visibly shaken. by the events that had just transpired. After gulping, he had to ask.
"W-WHAT THE HELL?! What were... what ARE those things, and how did'ja do that?"
"Huh? Me kill monster like them all time! Simple!" Akka stated nonchalantly.
"..." Bullet tipped down his hat to hide his masked eyes. He felt embarrassed that a woman had saved him from nearly being killed. "Th-Thanks, Miss Nensho."
"No worries!" Akka opened her arms wide and gave the blond a tight hug. "Me help teammate to win!"
Bullet pushed the small woman away from him after being hugged.
"Now ain't the time for that, Miss Nensho," he stated coldly.
"Hm?! Okay! Me get it. You hunger? You eat wolf? Me from Asia, me eat all kind dog."
"Uhhh, that ain't too appetizin' to m--" Bullet's eyes became wide.
His entire body started to shiver. All of the dead wolf bodies were now humans, and standing in the distance was an even larger wolf that was alive and well. It ginormous, with white fur, and teeth that was even bigger than the others.
"M-Miss Nensho, what are these? These are... and what is that?!" Bullet said with fear in his voice, "Look!"
Akka turned around, and reached for her knife, gripping it tightly in her palms.
"Me take care this..."
The monster hunter rushed towards the beast, her knife ready to pierce it, but before she could attack, the animal rolled onto it's back, and panted happily. This took her by surprise, and caused her to drop her guard.
The gigantic wolf stood back onto it's feet, and started to lick Akka happily, just before it's body started to transform into that of a large, muscular man who was completely nude. His chest was covered in white hair, as well as the rest of his body. He looked as if he was some sort of mountain man, with a body to prove it.
"Ha ha ha!" he laughed jollily, "Name's Bearlake! Seems you killed all of my pack! But that's no problem! They were real sticks in the mud anyway! Vicious, evil, and cruel!"
Bullet was... astonished, in the least. A man who transformed into a giant, white wolf? What kind of reality was this?
"Herro, Bearlake-san!" Akka smiled, and waved. "You not hurt us? You not eat us?"
"Nope! Ain't gonna eat ya! I'm a vegetarian! Never got along with them other guys anyway! HA HA!" Bearlake scratched his glorious beard. "But, I am without a pack now! Which means I ain't sh*t! HA HA! But that's no problem, because I'm YOUR problem now! I'm part of your pack now!"
"NOW JUST WAIT A DAMN SECOND!" Bullet shouted, "This man's naked like damn fool, and now he's our problem? No way, no how! Ain't gonna fly with me, Miss Strays, or Mr. Remmington! Not only that, but he's one of them wolf-things!"
Akka frowned at Bullet being so sour.
"Why you sour, Speeds? Why you no like Bearlake-san?"
Bearlake flexed his biceps, "Yeah, Speeds! WHY DO YA DISLIKE ME?! HA HA! YOU SHOULD STOP DISLIKIN' ME, COS DISLIKIN' ME MAKES YA A DUMB-ASS!"
Bearlake came up close to Bullet, and then slapped his back so hard that the masked man went flying into a tree. It seemed Bearlake didn't know his own strength. Bullet had been knocked unconscious, which only meant one thing: Now Akka could convince the others to let Bearlake come with them and join their party!
It seemed they had a new member who would help them track down these ghosts. Bearlake would come in handy.
[ To be Continued ]
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06/17/2017 12:07 PM
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Dark Protector Pt. 2
"Mr. Maguire. Hello! You're spacing out!"
Nikki's voice called out to me as I stood in the trial room. Her hand was waving to catch my attention. I must have been lost in my thoughts. I had barely noticed that I had stopped talking, or even thinking about the trial I was on.
"I-I'm sorry, what was the question again?" I asked in a confused tone.
"The question was whether or not you wanted to join the Kill Watch. Is it that, or is it a far curler fate? And trust me, you won't get to go to the other side if you refuse."
This was such a difficult question. Was joining the Kill Watch the right thing to do? What would... Stacy have told me to do at this time? Of course Amoxil wanted me to take the offer, but was it really what was right? The Kill Watch were heroes, but government pawns. Was that really what I stood for?
Then again, what did I stand for? Memories of my school life started to flood into my thoughts. Just like that, I was back in my high school. I was remembering Stacy speaking with me. She was so ecstatic.
"Soooo, you found a cosplay! That's pretty shwag, Tom!"
"Yeah, I did. Are you still serious about buying me a ticket to Pinker-con?"
"Mhm~!" Stacy trilled, "Just as long as you bring me as your plus one! What do you say?"
"Stace, you're my best friend, and you're offering me a chance to go to Pinker-con. Of course you can go with me. Just make sure to make me look as shwag as possible, okay? Cuz seriously, the last thing I want is looking like a complete and utter moron in front of Midori."
"Um, sorry Tommy-boy, but I'm pretty sure you make yourself look like that in front of her all the time."
Ouch. I had gotten absolutely destroyed by my best friend. She flipped her hair back and smiled.
"But, it should be fun, so... I'm excited to go."
Stacy seemed happy when she said that. Especially with her beautiful, sunshine of a smile. After that, she gave one of flawlessly beautiful waves, and left me in order to go home.
Amoxil then whispered in my ears.
"Man, are they gonna have booze there? Maybe some rock? I dunno. It sounds kinda like a nerd party." He asked. He sure did love his drugs.
"Dude, chill the shwig out. It'll be fun."
"Alright, if you say so..."
Amoxil then started to sing more Dave Matthews, which, unfortunately, by mere exposure, had become surprisingly catchy.
On the day of Pinker-con, Stacy and I had met up dressed in our nerd outfits. She was supposed to be Shark-Man, that old Superhero from that old comic book that no one read anymore. Still, she looked cute, and it made her round butt look like something that I'd love to have near my face sometime.
Me, on the other hand, I came in the dark armor that amoxil provided for me.
"Holy shwig, Tom!" Stacy exclaimed when I tapped on her shoulder, revealing my cosplay. "You don't even look like you! Those muscles look so real!"
"Yeah," I said, my voice a bit muffled and distorted due to the costume. "It's a good cosplay, and no one's going to beat it. Not even Midori. You, on the other hand, look crappy. Seriously, who likes Shark-Man anymore?"
Stacy chuckled, and was going to give me a long, winded explanation on why Shark-Man was relevant, but before she could, I heard a new voice approach me.
"WHOA-WHOA-WHOA-WHOA! HEYA, CUT IT OUT, BUSTER-ROO!" Said an unknown voice from behind.
I turned my head only to see a girl wearing a some sort of inconspicuous, mild-mannered attire. Her hair was a deep blue, and her teeth were kind of sharp. Despite her outfit, she looked kind of suspicious.
"Uh, and you are?" I asked. Stacy was probably just as confused as I was.
"Sydney. Sydney Wayys. I'm a Shark-Man Super-Fan, and let me tell you one thing, buster! For that kind of talk, I should break a nose, jaw, and eat'cha raw! SHARK-MANISTHEBESTSUPERHEROEVER!"
This Sydney girl seemed passionate about her Shark-Man. Luckily, she couldn't see my face, because if she could, she'd probably remember it, and hold a grudge for what I said now.
"Nope, he's pretty shwig."
"No, YOU'RE pretty Shwig!"
Out of nowhere, the crazy fangirl punched me across the face, and with great strength I may had. Even though I was wearing Amoxil, I felt that punch. Without another word, she left. Stacy, being the good friend that she was, immediately rushed to my aid.
"Holy Rivers! What the shwag was that bitch's problem? Talk about super-fan extreme, huh?"
"Yeah, she's a weirdo. Let's just... go inside the con already."
Stacy and I made our way into the con, and immediately caught sight of people taking pictures of Midori's cosplay. She was barely wearing anything, and everyone was eating it up. That big-titted, slanty-eyed slut. Seriously, what a shwiggin' bitch. I decided to leave this area, and sign up for the Pastel Pinker-Con cosplay contest which started soon. I knew Midori would be entering, and I couldn't wait to show her up with my own costume.
About an hour had passed, and a group gathered for the OC cosplay contest. Midori and I, along with a few other strangers, headed on stage when a legend had appeared. It was the very chesty, very beautiful animator for Pinkerton Animation, Pastel Pinkerton.
"Konnichiwa! Hello!" Pastel spoke into a Microphone that was likely implanted on the side of her face. "Pastel is -- Erm, I am Pastel Pinkerton! Owner of Pinkerton Animation Studios. I'm here to recruit a new artist for my company. The Cosplayer with the most originality, and work put into their costume will become my new, personal apprentice, and get to work with not only work with me, but help me with new designs for anime, cartoons, manga, and comics. By winning this contest, there are endless possibilities! But, before I start, I'd like to show you what got me started in animation."
Pastel reached into her pocket, and pulled out a pen.
"This is called the Pen of Nilloc. A pen that I, as an artist, have drawn with and made many of my animated wonders."
The crowd was in awe at Pastel's pen. The Pen of Nilloc had been something she had spoke about in interviews. Supposedly, it had been her good luck charm for years, and she thanked it for all of the blessings it had given her.
"The Pen of Nilloc is a symbol that anyone's dreams can come true! Even the young artists before us! Yes, COSPLAY IS AN ART, WHICH MEANS COSPLAYERS ARE ARTISTS! Never forget it!"
Pastel smiled, and the crowd ate it up. I could see give Midori on the stage giving some of the other cosplayers with good outfits glare. Boy, she was going to lose, and I was going to come out on top. DOMINATED! That's what that shwiggin' ho would be. D-O-M-I-N-A-T-E-D.
"Now, let me announce the winner of this years cosplay conte--"
Before Pastel could finish, Pyonpi-Bots had crashed through the roof. The instantly targeted random civilians in the crowds.
"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!" Pastel Pinkerton screamed as loud as she could when the Pyonpi-Bots had invaded. She then ran off in fear, but tripped on the way out, bursting open her top to where her breasts had been revealed.
"Holy shwig!" I exclaimed, "Those are great tits... A-And Pyonpi-Bots are invading! Amoxil!"
"Huh? Yeah, I see it man, let's run or somethin'!"
"Run?! You're the one who told me to do good things, aren't you?"
"Oh yeah, I said that. Man, don't listen to the things I say when I'm probably 90% high."
"You were high that day?"
"I dunno, I barely remember it."
"Seriously, let's jus--"
A Pyonpi bot then shot a laser towards me. As an instant reaction, I jumped out of the way.
"SERIOUSLY, AMOXIL, I NEED YOU TO SHWIGGIN' HELP ME!"
"Yeah, yeah. When I want help getting high, it's, 'No, Amoxil, drugs are bad,' but when you want to fight killer robots it's suddenly, 'Let's do the thing that'll kill us!'"
"Dude, stop shwiggin' around, and c'mon!"
"Fine, fine. What do you want?"
"Um, gimme a... uhh, gimme a sword! Make one!"
Amoxil then used his shape shifting abilities to make a sword made from his biological form appear out of my hand. It felt a little strange, and was connected to me, but I could wield it, and it'd do damage. I charged towards the crowds of people that the Pyonpi-bots were terrorizing, slicing them to bits.
That's when I heard a voice yell a battle cry.
"IT'S TIME'TA TAKE A BITE OUTTA CRIME, GUPPIES! Shake-Babe's on the scene, and it's time to roll film! ACTION!"
The voice came from a scantily-clad female with a shark-fin for hair. She wore a mask, and her breasts were very noticeable. In fact, they were so noticeable that I actually heard Amoxil say, "Uh, man, you're getting excited down below, and I can feel it. Seriously, stop checkin' out the SPACE BETWEEN her breasts, and get back to fighting."
The woman jumped in, and instantly pulled down her mask, using her razor sharp teeth to destroy any Pyonpi-Bots that were hurting citizens. Her mouth was like a gaping black hole when she was opened wide. She could swallow certain things whole, and it didn't even seem to phase her.
"Holy freakin' shwig! Are you seeing this, dude?!" I said to Amoxil.
"Yeah, I am, but really, I've seen better when tripping."
"Dude, what the shwig is your problem?"
"Man, don't lecture me..."
"Whatever! We need to get on same page as her. Transform into something cool that we can kill a bunch of these Pyonpi-Bots with ease."
Amoxil then started to transform into a pretty shwaggin' car with flames that spurted out. I was instantly in the driver's seat. He spun around, running over any Pyonpi-bots that came close to us, as the Shark Girl ate, chewed, and destroyed as many Pyonpi-bots as she could.
This Shark Girl and I were like a superhero team. In fact, it was cool. And I was saving people! How shwag is that? I was even saving Midori, and Pastel Pinkerton! I was going to be a shwiggin' hero!
When all of the killer Pyonpi-bots had been defeated, the Shark Girl and I stood in the center of the room together. Civilians came to clap for us, and cheer us on. We were heroes in their eyes. I turned to the Shark Girl, and went to shake her hand.
"Hey, sexy," I said in a suave voice. "That was nice work you did there."
Instantly, she punched me in the face, sending me flying back.
"SCREW YOU, SHARK HATING D*CK SUCKER! I'LL HATE YOU FOREVER, AND FOREVER ISN'T OVER YET! IN FACT, FOREVER'S JUST BEGUN!"
I heard her yell, before she jumped inhumanely high, bursting through a newly made hole in the roof. The people gasped at the sudden outburst from that crazy lady, and soon gathered around me.
"Rain Rivers," I groaned, "What the shwig was that bitch's problem?"
"You're just not very good with women, man. Unlike me." Amoxil replied.
"Oh, shut up. I'm awesome with the ladies. Like you're any better."
"Yeah, man. Sure. Hey, I was married. Her name was Pippi, my ray of sunshine."
"Yeah, I don't care. Shut up, Amoxil."
I stood up, and wanted to take praise, but that's when Amoxil whispered into my ear.
"Man, they're gonna be onto us. We're gonna be everywhere, let's go!"
He was right. They were going to make us famous like the Kill Watch, and if that happened, Amoxil would get taken away. So, I had to leave.
"Amoxil, transform into something that can get us out of here."
In an instant, he morphed into a helicopter, which soon flew us out of the con. I was so upset, because now the contest would go on, and Midori would probably win.
The next day, I had arrived at school, only to find Stacy waiting near my desk. She waved, and gave a perky smile. Beautiful as always.
"Tommy, what did you do yesterday?! I saw you fly out of the arena, and save a bunch o--"
"SHHH!" My hand dove towards Stacy, covering her mouth. "Don't talk about it. It's a secret between you and me!"
Stacy shook her head.
"Alright, but tell me what's going on."
"It's hard to explain, so I'll have to tel--" I didn't have time to finish.
"Tooooomy," rang Midori's voice, her long finger tapping on my shoulder.
I turned around, and with a groan glared at her.
"What do you want, Mido--"
What the shwig?! Without warning, Midori soon pressed her mouth to mine. Our lips collided, her tongue slid into my mouth, and pressed into my cheek. I was getting so turned on now, and it was involuntary. In my pants, I could feel myself becoming more erect. I was getting DOMINATED. Midori eventually broke from the kiss.
"I saw you at Pinker-Con yesterday. I saw you come with Stacy. I knew it was you, because only the only reason Stacy would come would be for you, so it had to be you. You saved me, and..." Midori's eyes fluttered, which made my heart race, and blood pump through my loins. "You're my hero. So, let's hang out, Superhero. Come with me.. We're going to shwag."
She turned away, and swayed her hips back and forth, leaving me in a lustful daze.
Suddenly, I didn't hate Midori anymore. In fact, she was actually pretty shwiggin' cool when I thought about it. And holy shwig, Asians could kiss. Looks like I was wrong about another thing. W-Wait, did she just say 'shwag?'. But I was a ... Oh, this was too good.
Stacy coughed, and raised an eyebrow.
"Um, okay. That was weird?"
"Hold up, Stacy. I gotta go." I left Stacy behind, and followed Midori.
And what happened next was not safe for work. That much is true. But boy, was it was the best shwiggin' time of my life. Midori had become my girlfriend for the next few months. I would occasionally save a few people here and there, and get hot shwag-fests from Midori in return. Finally, I was shwaggin' the hottest girl in school, and it was good. Though, looking back on it, was it really that good?
I didn't really talk to Stacy much after I started dating Midori. All I did was spend my time shwagging her, or, y'know, fighting crime to impress her. Stacy sort of became another face in the hall. One I didn't really care for seeing. In fact, I didn't miss her. I didn't even think about her. All I cared about was getting that sweet Asian ass.
One morning in class, I came into see Stacy looking sick, It had easily been three or four weeks since I had even even said 'Hello' to her. Now was as good a time as any, and maybe it could have rekindled some sort of friendship that we once had.
"Hey, Stace," I said like old times. "You don't look well today?"
Stacy turned to me, her eyes red, her nose stuffy, puffy, and leaking with fluids.
"Yeah, I have a cold. You've been busy... I've been hearing about your crime stopping on the TV. You're calling yourself the Dark Protector now, huh?"
I nodded.
"Yeah, shwag name, right? Came up with it myself."
Stacy didn't look impressed.
"You never told me how you got superpowers, Tom." She sniffed.
"Oh yeah, I was supposed to do that, huh?"
"Yeah... You don't really talk to me anymore. Did I do something wrong? I mean, you kind of just stopped as soon as Midori came in. I know that she's beautiful and stuff, but you hated her. You didn't even have time to develop a real relationship wit--"
"Okay, one: Shut the shwag up, Stace. You don't act like you shwaggin' know me. Midori's a really nice person, and we just got off on the wrong foot. We have a lot in common. You know, like cosplay?"
"More like shwagging..." Stacy mumbled.
"What? Oh, don't shwaggin' say that shwig. Seriously, grow up, Stace. People grow apart, stop being a whiny little bitch. Maybe if YOU had put out when we were friends, I'd still be talking to you. I was there all along, and you just strung me along. At least Midori knows what she likes, what she wants, and goes for it. You could learn a lot from her."
Stacy gave me a look of disgust, shock, and sadness.
"... That's what you wanted from me? I thought we were friends. I thought that we liked spending time together. I thought that maybe..."
"Just shut up. We *were* friends, Stacy. Not anymore. People grow apart. So grow up, and deal with it."
I turned away, not wanting to speak with her anymore, but it didn't matter anyway. She had stood up, and left class. I didn't feel bad. Not one bit. She was being whiny, wasn't she? She was just bitching. She was jealous that I just didn't find her interesting anymore.
"Man, that wasn't cool." Amoxil said softly.
"Shut up, Amoxil."
A few days later, Midori had messaged me in my eye-ular phone. She wanted me now, and needed some of my sweet touch. I had taken a shower, and come downstairs from my bedroom only to find my mom and Stacy sitting in the living room. Stacy looked as if she hadn't gotten any better from her cold.
"Hey Tom..." Stacy greeted softly.
"Thomas, Stacy's come over. I hadn't seen her in awhile, so I let her in." My mom said as she looked at me.
"Oh hey, mom." I said to my mom, before looking to Stacy. "Hey, Stacy. Listen, as much as I..."
"Tom, can I talk to you in private? I really..."
Midori was really waiting for me, and I didn't have time to hear Stacy's bitching. She was going to complain about how I treated her the other day, and I just didn't want to deal with it. So, I just decided to play along.
"Stacy, why don't you go home, and I'll meet you in a few hours, okay? I'll come over to your place, and we can talk there."
Stacy looked down at her feet when I said that.
"... Okay."
"Great. See ya." I said with little emotion in my tone.
After my long, loving session with Midori, I decided to actually keep my promise. I went to Stacy's house. Her mom and dad didn't seem to be home, so I decided to let myself in. I walked up to her bedroom. The lights were on, and she was tucked away under her covers fast asleep. It looked like I had come at a bad time. On her bed, she had her electronic journal out. My curiosity got the better of me, so I looked down.
"Today Tom told me that maybe if I had put out, we still would have been friends. I don't think he knows that I never had anyone other than him. I know it looks like I'm popular, and I wish I was, but just because some faces swarm around me doesn't mean that I they stick around. I guess the same was true about Tom.
Tonight, I'm going to go to his house, and offer to have sex with him. It's the only way I think I can get him to listen to him. I really want to tell him something important, but he never seems to have the time. I need someone to listen to my problems, and Dr. Lense said it'd be a good idea if I made more friends. But more friends doesn't replace the ones you really care ab--"
The lights to the journal started to flicker, before fading to a black screen. The battery to the electronic journal died there. It needed a charge, so as an act of courtesy, I went to her nightstand and placed it on the charger. The words in her journal had left me bothered. She really needed to tell me something, and I was here now. I had felt horrible for how I treated her. Sex wasn't everything, and I had been a real scumbag.
Walking over to her bed, I shook Stacy's sleeping body a few times.
"Hey, Stace," I whispered, "I'm here. Do you still want to talk? Wake up."
I shook her a few more times.
"Hey, Stace, wake up." I repeated.
Her body laid there motionlessly. Was she really that tired? Holy Rain Rivers, she must have conked out. She was probably stressed. I shook her once more, and then decided to try something new. I took off her blankets, and revealed her body to the cold. But, that's when I noticed it. Something that I didn't want to see. In her arm there was a tube connected to an empty bottle which read 'SMiLE'. SMiLE had been around for the past hundred years, and had worked as a street knock-off to the Euphoria chips implanted in people's brains.
"St-Stacy," I called out, shaking her with my grip.
Often, SMiLE could be lethal. So many thoughts had rushed through my head. What had she done? I touched her face only to realize that her skin had grown cold, pale, and lifeless.
"Stacy," I said once more.
I was scared, in shock, and most of all, in denial. I came closer to her body, and cuddled her head.
"S-Stacy, I'm here now. C'mon, let's talk. Let's talk about what you wanted to..."
It like there was a ringing in my head. It was all I heard as I held her head close to me. I looked off into the distance, only seeing flashes of her face before my eyes. What did she need to tell me? I was here now. I was here. I could talk now. I could spare time now. But why couldn't I before? Why couldn't I... before?
"Stacy, I'm here now. I can talk now." I repeated softly, rocking her body back and forth. "I want to know what you have to say... I ..."
I swallowed my words. I didn't want to know. I didn't want this. I didn't want this to happen. What was I thinking? What was I...
. . .
"Mr. Maguire!"
Nicole's voice called out to me again. I lifted my head and looked up at her, taking a deep breath. I was out of my memories, and now back in the courtroom.
"You sure do space out a lot. Dios Mio, you need to pay attention. What is your choice?"
What was my choice? What would Stacy have done? What would I have done? Did I even deserve to keep going on? Did I? Was the Kill Watch really in my future, or should I have let it go, and pay for my crimes? I wasn't sure. But that's when Amoxil spoke to me.
"It's never too late to do the right thing."
"... Sorry, Ms. Rios. I've made my decision. I know what I want."
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