The Create-A-Hero RPG Season II IC Thread

[Johnny Blaze]

"Jesus ****ing Christ", wistled officer Mallarky as he looked up at the horrible sight.

His sergeant turned and glared at him hard.

"Oh, sorry, sir."

Sergeant Sapp was a sixteen year veteran of the force. Working in a city like Haven, he had thought he'd seen it all.

He thought wrong.

"Get'em down from there."

"NOW", Sapp screamed as the group of cops that had accompanied him to the crime scene just stood around, transfixed by the grotesque art show before them.

They stood in front of St. Paul's Cathedral, the oldest church in all of Lost Haven. It was founded in the first year of the settlement, and had survived throughout the ages.
Atop the church's high tower was a large ivory cross, it's pride and joy. And crucified to the cross, upside down, was the naked body of Angela Michaels.

Her eyes and tongue had been removed, and there was a large stab wound on her left side. Barbed wire had been wrapped tightly around her wrists and ankles, so tight it cut down to the bone.

Sitting above her with the top of the cross shoved up his rectum, was her would-be mugger. As with Angela, his eyes and tongue had been removed.

--------------------

It had taken them twenty minutes, but they had finally gotten the bodies down. And just in time, as the news crews were beginning to arrive along with a growing crowd.

"Ma'am, please stand back", ordered an officer as he stopped a camera crew from getting closer.

"We've got a right to be here too!"

"Right, but not past this line, Ma'am."

"Oh, you must think you're...get that camera on! Detective! Detective!"

Sergeant Sapp rapidly walked away from the scene and towards his car, ignoring the reporter as she tried to ask him questions. His face was unreadable, but, if one looked close enough, one could see the hint of dread.

And it was because, on the mugger's chest and on Angela's stomach, words and bizarre symbols were etched in with a blade. The symbols he could not even begin to translate, but the words were in plain English.

I've butchered men, women, and children

and not a single cape bats an eye

These are your so called heroes?

Narcissistic lunatics who think themselves gods?

Where, O' where will they be, I wonder

when judgement day comes?

 

[Spike_x1]

The air itself began to ignite from the heat around the Survivor as his hands and eyes charged with energy. The street lights around the docks were completely drowned out by the orange glow of Adam Locke's fury towards this seemingly unstoppable behemoth. He knew that neither he, nor Pulse, could harm Lyle or bring the brute down for the count. It took an entire construction site caving in on the villain to stop him for any measurable amount of time during their last encounter, and despite his obvious insanity, Lyle actually appeared to be quite intelligent. He wouldn't fall for the same trick twice.

Complete removal from the battlefield, however, might be a decent alternative solution.

Everything I've got? Pulse thinks. As Pulse gets ready to attack, he begins to feel an inner panic. Last time Pulse gave his all, his body tore, as if it was being ripped apart from his inner energy. His powers are still unknown to him, and Pulse has been careful ever since that day. But now? His all? Will it be enough? And, if by some chance it is, will he survive?

"Fine, my all." He grunt, putting his wrists together as he aims his hands together at the yellow monster. "See you in hell, beast." He sneers. Pulse sends a strong wave from his hands, hitting Lyle with tremendous force. Though the shockwave was strong, it wasn't near Pulse's full strength. It barely passed half. Pulse closes his eyes, and forces his body to its brink.

He clenches his teeth and tenses his body. Taking in a deep breath, he holds himself steady, building the power inside him. The pressure rises as sweat pours from his body. As he builds the tension more and more within him, his sweat evaporates, and he begins to steam in the cool night air.

With one big blast, Pulse centers his power into his palms, hoping it won't blow the skin right from his bone. "Survivor..." he says in a weary voice, trying to stay strong and ready as he focuses his power. "Stand...BACK!" Pulse growls as he shoots the wave from his palms. The force of the energy evacuates from his body like an explosion. The wave errupts from his palms, tearing his skin and creating large bloody vents on his hands.

Trying to ignore the pain, Pulse keeps his aim steady, directing his attack at Lyle, using everything he has to keep steady. As he continues to unleash the strong wave, he feels a pop in his side. His uniform is quickly drenched in his blood again, his warm liquids running down his tired and spent skin.

Suddenly, just as the blast came, it ends. Stopping as if a switch was flipped. Pulse breathes heavily as he tries to regain his composure. His body shakes, and the blood flows quickly from his body. Exhausted, he drops to his knees. His hang swings to his side to hold his reopened wound. "AH! Dammit..." he cries in pain as his hand touches the wound. His hands are sore, nearly shredded from his own power.

He holds back his emotion and pens it up inside, biting his tongue as he slowly reverts back to his wounded state. I will not be weak, he instructs himself. I'm fine. Get up. The pain is a weakness. Weakness only brings death. Death is a luxury I can't afford.

Pulse rises slowly, continuing to hold his side. He turns to Survivor and smirks, passing off his wounds as a mere bruise. He turns back forward to face his enemy. As his eyes focus, he hopes that his foe is either gone, or injured. Either way, these next few moments will be a challenge.

Will you pass out and fail? He asks himself. Or will you be a man and endure?

Even after taking a number of steps away from him, just to try to be safe, Adam's collar bone still snapped from the force as Pulse let loose a shockwave of staggering proportions against Lyle.

As for his own discharge of power, the gravel under his feet started to smolder and finally turned to glass thanks to the heat that the Survivor was calling forth. In a blinding flash of light, both Pulse and the Survivor collapsed to the ground, pushed passed their limits. Coughing and gagging to catch his breath, Adam pulled his mask above his nose and took deep breaths while whispering quiet profanity at no one in particular. When he at last felt strong enough to look up, Adam saw that the entire side of the waterfront that had once been in front of them had been annihilated; gone from sight. Eric and Adam were now at the very edge of the new Lost Haven waterfront.

"Holy s**t," wheezed the Survivor. "I think we got him."

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Icon​

I have barely gotten to my feet when Helos comes at me, his right hand morphing into some sort of mace as it comes crashing into the side of my head, knocking me back into the side of the building. He grabs me, looking me in the eye and just tosses me aside, sending me into a jeep that is parked on the street. I get up, preparing for another attack...but it doesn't come.

"Strange, I seem to recall you putting up more of a fight last time. I would almost believe that you are not even trying."

Instead of trading banter with the android, I connect with a right hand that sends him staggering backwards.

"That's more like the Icon that I remember."

"What is it that you want Helos?"

"It is not what I want, hero. I am simply a tool of my master. I am merely here to serve his purposes."

"Your master? Helos, Cruz is dead."

"No Icon, not that weak minded fleshling. He is not my master. He designed me, he built me. But he was never my master."

"Who are you working for?"

"You haven't figured it out yet, Icon? I should not be surprised, your failure to deduce what is clearly obvious is just proof that he was wrong about you all along. You were never worthy to lead his forces. You were never worthy to serve Lord Blackwind."

I can't say that I'm not surprised when I hear Helos say who he's working for. After all, I've known I would have to deal with Blackwind again, but I wasn't expecting it to be so soon.

"Blackwind? How did he get his hands on you?"

"It is simply really. Lord Blackwind's forces found me in the wreckage of the Valor Facility and salvaged me. They brought me before my master, and he gave me life. I then chose to join him."

"So, Blackwind reactivated you, that doesn't mean that you have to work for him."

"No, you do not understand. He did not reactivate me. He did not reprogram me. He gave me life. Lord Blackwind gave me a mind. He made me sentient, he gave me the ability to choose."

Helos' right arm again reshapes itself, this time into a large sword, he comes at me with a wild swing which I block, then counter with an upper cut that takes the android off its feet. Before it hits the ground I fly into it, hitting Helos with the impact of a freight train. I continue moving at breakneck speed, then I suddenly stop, and at the same time throw him, almost spiking him like a football into the ground. But it doesn't stop him, he gets to his feet, and somehow I know that if he was capable of making facial expressions, he'd be smiling.

"We are getting nowhere with this Icon, let's end this, shall we?"

Helos looks past me, at the crowd that has been gathering around to see the chaos. His arm forms into what looks like a rocket launcher, and if fires in the direction of the bystanders.

 

[Saved]

The air itself began to ignite from the heat around the Survivor as his hands and eyes charged with energy. The street lights around the docks were completely drowned out by the orange glow of Adam Locke's fury towards this seemingly unstoppable behemoth. He knew that neither he, nor Pulse, could harm Lyle or bring the brute down for the count. It took an entire construction site caving in on the villain to stop him for any measurable amount of time during their last encounter, and despite his obvious insanity, Lyle actually appeared to be quite intelligent. He wouldn't fall for the same trick twice.

Complete removal from the battlefield, however, might be a decent alternative solution.Even after taking a number of steps away from him, just to try to be safe, Adam's collar bone still snapped from the force as Pulse let loose a shockwave of staggering proportions against Lyle.

As for his own discharge of power, the gravel under his feet started to smolder and finally turned to glass thanks to the heat that the Survivor was calling forth. In a blinding flash of light, both Pulse and the Survivor collapsed to the ground, pushed passed their limits. Coughing and gagging to catch his breath, Adam pulled his mask above his nose and took deep breaths while whispering quiet profanity at no one in particular. When he at last felt strong enough to look up, Adam saw that the entire side of the waterfront that had once been in front of them had been annihilated; gone from sight. Eric and Adam were now at the very edge of the new Lost Haven waterfront.

"Holy s**t," wheezed the Survivor. "I think we got him."

Pulse chuckled slightly. As he laughs, he winces in pain, his body trying to recover while, at the same time, trying to stay in one piece. Pulse cuts his laugh short and begins slowing his breathing, hoping to gain control over his body.

After a few seconds of heavy panting, Pulse begins to rise, his body screaming out in all kinds of pain. He opens his eyes wide, trying to push through the pain, rather than ignore it. As he stares at the new waterfront in front of him, he quickly fills with shock. "We did that?" He asks in disbelief. Survivor nods and Pulse smiles. "Damn." Eric grabs his bloody side and clamps down on the skin. He grabs the two large slabs and tries to hold them together the best he can.

Trying to lighten the mood and take his mind off his excrutiating pain, Pulse grins as he stares at Survivor. "Nice work." He says, his grin slowly turning to a grimace. "You're...pretty good," he says, trying to hide a wince. Pulse looks out at the waterfront, watching the waves crash into eachother and viewing the endless ripples casting off deep into the water. He takes in a deep breath of sea air, slowing his heartbeat and lowering his blood pressure, calming his body even more. Suddenly, his demeanor changes. His stance changes to a strong position of almost attention, and his voice morphs into one of seriousness and control."You don't think he's dead, do you?"

 

[Eddie Brock]

THE CITIZEN

I decide to swing by the museum again the next day. For the life of me, I still can't figure out why it was closed. I tell myself that it might have just been for renovation or something, but I know that there would have been a sign or something if that was the case. Even more puzzling, the building was empty. Even if they were doing renovations, I doubt they would have moved all of that stuff - especially not overnight. All that said, I allow my suspicion take a backseat to hopefulness as I approach the museum doors again.

This time, the doors are open. But the place is still empty. Possibly overstepping my boundaries a bit, I enter the museum. Against my better judgment, I continue to venture deeper - my footsteps echoing off the walls. As I reach the center of the first room, I notice a man standing a short distance away. It isn't the curator.

"We're closed," he announces somewhat irritably. I suspect he isn't too happy that I more-or-less trespassed.

"I'm sorry. The doors were open, so I just..." I trail off. Taking another breath, I ask, "I was hoping to speak to the museum's curator." I gently feel the Amulet around my neck. I've started wearing it as a force of habit, I guess. It reminds me that I still need to return it.

"He's gone," the man explains simply.

"Gone?" I repeat as if the word were foreign to me. How can he be gone? He made no indication the other night that he would be leaving. Did the scare make him decide to call it quits? If so, how was I ever going to get this Amulet back to him?

The man nods. "Yes, he left rather abruptly," he replies. "Said something about his work here being done." After a pause, he states, "I'm Carl. I rented out this space to Mr. Roosevelt." Mr. Roosevelt? Must be the curator. "Any chance I can help you?"

I bite my tongue for a moment. Should I tell him about the Amulet? Will he be upset if I do? I don't know how much Carl knows about the museum or its artifacts, and I don't know if he could help me even if I told him. So I decide to keep my lips sealed in that respect. "Not really, I'm afraid," I respond apologetically. "Do you know any way I can get in touch with Mr. Roosevelt?"

Carl shakes his head. "No such luck, my friend," he sighs. "He barely gave me any warning before heading out. Didn't tell me where he was going - or how to contact him. He just left his rent for the remainder of the year...and he was gone."

Well, that certainly throws a mighty hitch in my plan. Maybe I should tell Carl about the Amulet. He could do something...right?

"Not even sure how he moved all this stuff so fast," Carl continues - more to himself than me by this point. He puts his hands in his pockets and looks up at the vaulted ceiling. "He always was a little mysterious. But he was a nice man - real history buff."

I nod arbitrarily. I'm sure Carl wouldn't have even noticed if I had walked away. But I'm still torn about this Amulet situation. What am I going to do with this thing now? Maybe I could give it to another museum. I don't know. "Well, thanks for your help, anyway," I announce. I take one last look at the empty room and turn to walk away.

"Wait!"

I stop and look back at Carl.

"You're that guy who's running for Governor!" Carl announces excitedly as he recognizes who I am.

"That's right," I answer with a smile. "I trust I have your vote?"

"Nah, man, I don't vote," he replies bluntly. "But good luck, anyway!"

I smile vacantly as I leave. He doesn't vote. Of course. That's my luck. It's the same luck that's stuck me with this Amulet. And I still don't know what to do about that.
​

 

[Spike_x1]

Pulse chuckled slightly. As he laughs, he winces in pain, his body trying to recover while, at the same time, trying to stay in one piece. Pulse cuts his laugh short and begins slowing his breathing, hoping to gain control over his body.

After a few seconds of heavy panting, Pulse begins to rise, his body screaming out in all kinds of pain. He opens his eyes wide, trying to push through the pain, rather than ignore it. As he stares at the new waterfront in front of him, he quickly fills with shock. "We did that?" He asks in disbelief. Survivor nods and Pulse smiles. "Damn." Eric grabs his bloody side and clamps down on the skin. He grabs the two large slabs and tries to hold them together the best he can.

Trying to lighten the mood and take his mind off his excrutiating pain, Pulse grins as he stares at Survivor. "Nice work." He says, his grin slowly turning to a grimace. "You're...pretty good," he says, trying to hide a wince. Pulse looks out at the waterfront, watching the waves crash into eachother and viewing the endless ripples casting off deep into the water. He takes in a deep breath of sea air, slowing his heartbeat and lowering his blood pressure, calming his body even more. Suddenly, his demeanor changes. His stance changes to a strong position of almost attention, and his voice morphs into one of seriousness and control."You don't think he's dead, do you?"

"No," replied the Survivor as his breathing slowly returned to normal. "Not in the least." With his collar bone healed and his composure returning, Adam pulled his mask back down and stood up.

Letting his cape drape over him once again, the Survivor looked out to sea. "We weren't even scratching him with our powers before. All we did was act like the bat while he was the baseball. We can only hope that Lyle can't swim."

As he was watching the water, Adam couldn't help but think, Hell, for all I know, Lyle doesn't even need air.

 

[Blacklight]

Detention: Sucks.

Detention with the girl you got the hots for: Not so bad...

It was just the two of us. Me and Ashley. Ashley Birdsong. The girl of my dreams. Beautiful red hair. Sparkling brown eyes. Sexy. Smart. Sense of humor. The whole package. So you can imagine my delight when it's just me and her, and a napping detention teacher to prank on.

"Psst! Ashley! Pssssst!" I whispered.

"What, Shawn?" she whispered back.

"Watch this..."

I pulled out a sharpie from my pants pocket and slowly got up from my desk, double-taking to make sure the teacher didn't wake up. He was still sound asleep, so I crept up to his desk, tip-toeing my way to the teacher. Then I took out the marker and wrote a joke on his balding head. He still was asleep when I was done. Then I slowly swiveled his chair so that Ashley could see my "message". She giggled as she read it.

Man I missed hearing that giggle. It's so pretty. Just like her...

I then turned him back around and quietly made it back to my desk.

"You're so bad, Shawn."

"I know. That's why I'm so sexy."

"Sure..." she said sarcastically. Then we smiled at each other and had a good laugh.

But then my head started to throb out of nowhere. Could only be one thing...

My crime sense.

You see, one of my many ghostly abilities is the power to detect crime and disorder, even to the point where I can pinpoint it by following the headaches it gives me. Which is only a side-effect until I can control it. Until then, my head pounds every time it activates it.

"What's wrong, Shawn?"

"Nothing... Just a huge headache..."

Man I need to get out of here. Someone's in trouble and if I don't get the hell away from here I might not make it in time to stop it...

Then, my mischievous imagination came up with a plan.

Although this might be tricky...

I have the power to overshadow people. Possess them, if you will...

But in order for me to to that, I'd have to go intangible and phase into his or her body. In this case, the teacher...

"I'll be right back." I said, rushing out the door of the classroom, and hiding in the janitor's closet down the hall.

* * *​

After I had turned invisible, I managed to sneak back into the classroom, and phase into the detention teacher's body. And I gotta say, it feels weird...

Really weird....

But back to the task at hand. I gotta make this look convincing.

I made him wake up from his nap, and then had him stand, and look towards Ashley, who looked a tad surprised at his waking up. But I took a moment to look at her, before taking control of his vocal chords.

"Ahem...Where did Mr. Violette dissappear to, young lady? I want the truth..." I made him state awkwardly, his voice semi-resembling my own. A frequent problem with possession.

"He went to the bathroom..." she lied. Which warms my heart more that she wouldn't snitch on me.

"Well, seeing how behaved you two were, I'm letting you both out early. Good day, Ms. Birdsong. Tell Mr. Violette the news."

"Okay."

Then after she left the room, the coast was clear for me to leave his body, so I phased out of it and flew up and became intangible to pass through the ceiling, but I peered my head back through the ceiling to watch the teacher try to figure out what happened with a bird's eye view...

"Oh my head... What happened?"

Then as he felt the back of his head for the source of the pain, he felt some strange substance on it. He looked at his hand to find smears of black sharpie ink...

"SHAWN VIOLETTE!!!!!!"

And as I phased out through the roof of the school to locate the crime, I couldn't help but laugh my head off on the way...

 

[Saved]

"No," replied the Survivor as his breathing slowly returned to normal. "Not in the least." With his collar bone healed and his composure returning, Adam pulled his mask back down and stood up.

Letting his cape drape over him once again, the Survivor looked out to sea. "We weren't even scratching him with our powers before. All we did was act like the bat while he was the baseball. We can only hope that Lyle can't swim."

As he was watching the water, Adam couldn't help but think, Hell, for all I know, Lyle doesn't even need air.

Pulse lets out a quit laugh, trying to take his mind off his wounds. He remembered his training from the FBI. No emotion. Don't show weakness. Pulse continues to play these phrases back in his head, a broken record, keeping his mind clear and on task.

He stands tall, and takes his hand away from his side. He feels the blood continue to stream out from the gash, but he forgets it. Showing injury to no one is unacceptable, he thinks. Even a possible ally.

With his old lessons replaying in his head and his mind back in his conditioned style, his emotion fades and he returns to the true Pulse persona. He slows his heart beat, calming his body down mentally, making the blood flow throughout his body measured. He feels the wetness in his side slowly lessen, and he grins beneath his mask. No injury, no emotion.

He moves forward to Survivor, coming face to face with the dark symbol of the night. Pulse folds his hands over his chest, and turns his head to the horizon. He stares aimlessly, his mind only focussed on his objective.

"You know they sent them to kill us." He says coldly, his voice low and deep. "That means they consider us a threat." The two stand in silence for a moment, both thinking on all that has happened. "It's not much," Pulse says, breaking the quiet. "But it's a start."

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Icon​

The rocket soars above the heads of the bystanders, hitting the building behind them just above the third story windows. I rush toward them just as a large chunk of the wall begins falling, right towards them. I disintegrate most of the falling debris with my heat blasts as I speed toward the crowd. However, the screams of the bystanders tell me what I already know, the largest chunk of the wall is still heading right for them. I put my head down and accelerate forward, meeting the chunk of stone just several feet above their heads.

After setting the slab of concrete and plaster safely on the ground, I turn to face Helos again. He looks at me, his head cocked slightly to one side. "Incredible. Your devotion to these lesser beings is fascinating, but misplaced. These primates don't care for you, only for what you can do for them. Your compassion for these parasites is your weakness, and it will ultimately be your undoing." He pauses for a moment. You see, love and compassion are nothing but wasted emotions."

"That's because you don't know anything about being human, Helos."

"You're one to talk, SKT-17."

I'm staggered for a moment by his last retort. A thousand questions race through my mind. I ask myself what he knows, and how much he knows. I ponder if he knows about my friends, my family...and how much he's told Blackwind. I'm filled with a new resolve, I take several steps toward Helos and fire a heat blast at him. However, there is a bright flash of light and in an instant Helos is gone.

Later
​

My encounter with Helos has left me with more questions than answers. Questions about who and what I really am, questions that I've held the answers to for quite some time...questions that I think I may have been afraid to answer. I sit in front of my computer, holding the disc that Jenkins had given me at the Valor Facility in my hand, debating whether or not to insert it and learn the truth...the whole truth. Finally I decide to put it in, to finally get real answers about my origins. Perhaps if I weren't so wrapped up in whether or not I should watch this disc, I would have seen Jenny standing in the doorway behind me.​

 

[Blacklight]

Chapter 39: Nightmares Act I: The Descent, pt.4...

Then with one swift movement, I collapsed my staff, and quickly grabbed hold of the ball before he could get any traction. And then I took off into the high skies.

"What are you doing!?!" he screamed from inside the shell. But I didn't answer. I had a plan to take care of this guy.

Once we reached as high as I could go, I started heaving and after a few spins, I used all my super-strength possible to fling Murderball up into the atmosphere, and watched as the sight of his round, metal exterior grew smaller and smaller as he went higher up.

Now you may be thinking, what's this kid up to?

You'll find out soon enough. After all, what comes up...

...must come down.

It wasn't too long before the spherical scoundrel started hurtling down, and I watched carefully from below. He was falling faster and faster, eventually dropping below my altitude, forcing me to look down to continue my observation of his descent. And as I expected, the ground was becoming closer and closer to him as he kept going down. I could even hear his yells from inside his round armor, for like a ball, he had no control, and could only go down.

...and then he crashed.

I was so high up that i could only hear a slight boom, and then I let myself fall to see where he landed, and I found a hole about the same size as his ball form, a looked down inside to see him at least ten feet below and stuck there.

"Now are you going to give me that sword?" I called down below.

"No! It's mine!" I heard him from deep into his pit. Albeit faintly...

"Fine. I guess I'll just leave you down there to suffocate..." I replied, him not knowing that I'm wasn't being serious.

"Okay okay! You win! Let me out!"

So after hearing the magic words, I pulled out my in destructible diamond yo-yo, and threw it down into the void and watched it wrap around the ball, and with a huge yank, I reeled him out of the deep chasm. Then he proceeded to unfold his shell to reveal the exhausted criminal inside, whom of which had the artifact in hand.

"Here. Take it..." he offered as he panted.

I then slowly approached him and reached for the sword, but then he pulled it away and threw it far away in the other direction.

"Catch! Ahahaha!" He said as he then returned to his sphere form and rolled away as fast as possible while I went after the sword, but found it gone.

"Damn it..."

Great, Jon. Another failure. You lost the bad guy and the sword. How the hell are you going to explain this to the cops...

Then, right on cue, a swarm of cop cars flooded the scene, and I sighed as I got ready to explain to the cheif what happened...

 

[Spike_x1]

Pulse folds his hands over his chest, and turns his head to the horizon. He stares aimlessly, his mind only focussed on his objective. [/SIZE][/FONT]

"You know they sent them to kill us." He says coldly, his voice low and deep. "That means they consider us a threat." The two stand in silence for a moment, both thinking on all that has happened. "It's not much," Pulse says, breaking the quiet. "But it's a start."

"Agreed." With that, the Survivor turned around and started walking back towards the heart of Lost Haven. "My own investigation into Zano has grind to a halt. All I know is that he left Haven and there have been a few vague sightings of him in Las Vegas of all places. Nothing concrete. Even if I go to Vegas to see if there's anything to those sightings, Zano'll be long gone by that time. If he's even there at all."

Taking a leap and landing on top of a street light, Adam looked back at Pulse. "If you find anything, look me up." With another jump from legs with superhuman strength, the Survivor was atop a warehouse that was overlooking the waterfront, and proceeded to go from rooftop to rooftop, making his way back to the center of Central Island's nightlife, where he belonged.

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Icon
​

I lean back in my chair as the disc ends. For a long moment I just sit there trying to absorb what I learned. I just sit, as I try to take it all in.

"Whoa!" I hear from behind me. I quickly spin my chair around and find Jenny standing in the doorway. I was so engrossed by what was on the disc that I didn't even hear my kid sister behind me. Normally I'd be upset with myself for being so careless, but right now my secret identity is the last thing on my mind.

"How much did you see?" I ask her.

"Um, I'd say just about everything."

Jenny comes in the room and sits down on the edge of my bed, and we just sit there in an uncomfortable silence for several minutes.

"Dude...you're like, half alien....Are you gonna grow horns or any weird **** like that?"

We both chuckle alittle, and then the awkward silence resumes for what seems like an eternity, until it is broken again, this time by me.

"I have to call Dad."

 

[Saved]

"Agreed." With that, the Survivor turned around and started walking back towards the heart of Lost Haven. "My own investigation into Zano has grind to a halt. All I know is that he left Haven and there have been a few vague sightings of him in Las Vegas of all places. Nothing concrete. Even if I go to Vegas to see if there's anything to those sightings, Zano'll be long gone by that time. If he's even there at all."

Taking a leap and landing on top of a street light, Adam looked back at Pulse. "If you find anything, look me up." With another jump from legs with superhuman strength, the Survivor was atop a warehouse that was overlooking the waterfront, and proceeded to go from rooftop to rooftop, making his way back to the center of Central Island's nightlife, where he belonged.

Pulse watches as the Survivor disapears into the night, heading off into the depths of Lost Haven. Pulse smirks as he turns to the street behind him. He feels the wounds on his body begining to heal, and he lets out a sigh of relief. "What a waste of time." He says, shaking his head in aggravation.

Suddenly, Pulse runs forward, heading for the buildings a head. With a powerful shot, he releases a shockwave and propels himself into the air. "I've been gone for a month," Pulse relishes, thinking back to his home. "God only knows what's happened since."

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Icon
​

It seems like I was away for an eternity, going home can have that effect on someone. A normal visit to my family can be awkward enough, when you add having to tell them what you learned about where you really came from, it can get downright uncomfortable. Though, I have to admit, my parents took the news better than I had anticipated. My father even suspected it right from the moment my abilities started to develop, but he never made his suspicions known because we didn't know for sure. So I guess it was a bit of a relief for him to be able to rid himself of that burden.

As I fly above the city, I hear a woman cry out for help. I scan the area, seeing if I can find the source of the disturbance, it only takes a few seconds to locate it. Two muggers holding up a young couple in an area of town appropriately called "Holdup Alley."

I swoop down landing between the couple and their would be attackers, just as one of the muggers tells the young woman to "shut her mouth." Both muggers as well as their intended victims jump back, startled by my sudden appearance. The muggers level their hand guns at me and open fire.

"They never learn." I say as the bullets bounce harmlessly off my chest. I grab the first gunman and take the weapon from his hand, crushing it like a soda can in my hand. The second mugger tosses his gun away and begins to run. With one mugger in hand I fly after the second, and grab him by the collar of his shirt, lifting him of the ground. I land, gently slam both of the muggers together..gently by my standards, however it staggers both of them. I let go of the muggers and grab an old bike rack that has seen better days. I bend it, wrapping it around the muggers.

"Get out of here. Call the police and tell them where you are. They'll need you to identify these two." I saw you the young couple as I turn and fly off into the night sky.

 

[Spike_x1]

I hate this city.

"Adam Locke" pulled his mask up, revealing his face just as he leaped a final time and landed on the balcony of his apartment. He didn't even bother to take a final look at the Lost Haven skyline as the sun began to rise over the horizon, and simply opened the glass door that led into his bedroom and walked in. Why the hell do I even bother? This whole city has already gone to hell in a handbasket, but nobody in this s**tberg could give a damn.

Walking out of his bedroom and into the kitchen, Adam threw his cape, gloves, and mask onto one of the stools situated around the bar, and pulled a loaf of bread and peanut butter out. "Ingrates," he muttered to himself through a mouthful of sandwich. Some supervillain could tear my intestines out and try to choke me with them, and the only thing that would concern Haven's citizens would be the thought of watching me regrow my lost innards.

Something then caught the Survivor's eye. At the edge of the bar was yesterday's newspaper that the landlord put out for him at noon everyday, and headlining it was the leading candidate for the Governor of Maine. "McDonald?" Adam scoffed. "I wouldn't vote for you even if I were a registered voter. Fancy Dave with a million-dollar smile, learn what it's like to really fight for the people in this day and age. The day you go up against a ten-foot tall yellow freak is the day I'd vote for you."

Discarding the front section of the paper, Adam turned to the stocks to briefly check a few of his holdings. Of course, ever since that day at the race track months ago, Locke had more money than he really knew what to do with; but investing had seemed like an entertaining enough concept when he started. Analyzing the statistics of rising and falling stocks was eerily similar to studying military statistics to predict an enemy's actions, and the Survivor had come into this world with the masterful eye for analysis already ingrained into his brain. "Goddamn city," he sighed again as he threw the finished newspaper into the trash and picked up the phone. With a heavy hand, Adam dialed the number for the first escort service that came to mind. "I need a distraction."

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Icon

​

He stands at the large picture window of his penthouse apartment in downtown Lost Haven. The view of the cityscape alone is enough to take one's breath away, but today something special is happening. Something went wrong in a small commuter airplane, it began to lose altitude, and the controls became non responsive, the pilot has lost control.

Just as things looked their worst, a blue streak soared past the penthouse on its way to the plane. It was Icon, he got underneath the plane, steadying it, guiding it down to a nearby park where he could safely set it down. He watched as Icon carried the plane on his shoulders until it was safely on the ground. He watched as the crowd formed around the hero, and the hero leave the scene rather than to bask in his momentary glory.

"Magnificent, isn't he Jaspar?" He asks his servant.

"Sir?" The man replies.

"The hero, Icon. Such power, such grace. He truly is something to behold."

"Ah, of course Master Midas, he is quite impressive indeed."

"He will belong to me, with him working for me, there will be nothing that can hold me back."

He runs his hands through his long golden locks, then returns to his overstuffed leather sofa to enjoy the program that he had been indulging in before the interruption.

 

[Blacklight]

Using my ghostly pinpointing powers (which are still hurting my brain like hell) I found myself flying over the Enferno Industrial District, still pretty much laid to waste from BL's battle with that crazy power-stealing serial killer awhile ago... He told me about it. Said the guy was reall really tough. Hell it was the reason he broke up the Team. Not that it really concerns me. I was never part of the Team to really care much about it. Sure Jon may have offered me membership, but I prefer the solo thing myself, which is why I didn't join or care about joining. It still baffles me though why he would break up the Team like that. Maybe it's bec-- Ahh, crap my head is aching! Sorry. I've got to stop thinking before I have an aneurism...

I searched around the area, using the headaches as my guide, and surely enough, before I knew it, I started having tunnel vision that directed towards the crime my senses led me to.

Some hoodlums were jackin some parts from the power plant. Looks like I'm gonna have to make them put it back...

Invisibly stalking them as they went back inside the plant to take more parts, I phased through the building in after them to see what they were taking. Hopefully if I confront them here, there won't be any bystanders that could get hurt.

"C'mon let's get out of here before Blacklight shows up!" One of them shouted out to his companions. I just chuckled.

"Sorry, dudes..." I said as I let myself be seen in my awesome costume.

"But Blacklight's out right now, so you'll just have to settle for me handing you your ass-kickings today..."

"SHOOT HIM!!"


Do I have to say it again? These guys just never learn...

 

[Spike_x1]

[BLACKOUT]The world is a canvas that we paint however we wish - how we live. Or how we die, depending on your point of view. Take this young man for example: Alexi Roslov. He could fire intense blasts of radiation from his eyes, and used that ability to rob banks.

I asked the lad if he'd like to join me in my crusade. No such luck. So, I was forced to pop a number of blood vessels within his skull. It's a shame, really. I was beginning to like Russia. However, it truly is high-passed time that I scheduled a trip back to America. It's been decades since I stepped foot in my home town of Lost Haven, and I have heard such marvelous things about the city's growth of character. Icon, the Survivor, Lyle, Pulse; so many opportunities await."[/BLACKOUT]

Taking a swig from his bottle of rum, the Dead walked through the dark alley, whistling loudly to himself. A young, good looking couple strolled by the edge of the walkway and received a good look at the shadowy man making music a few meters away. After a moment where a chill went down both of their spines, the man and women looked at each other and began to chuckle lightly at the sight. They didn't know that as they would sleep later that night, the rummy in the alley would haunt their dreams with the most inhuman of horrors imaginable.

[BLACKOUT]"Yessir, home is where the heart is, they say."[/BLACKOUT] The Dead took one last moment to empty the bottle in his hand, and then hurled it carelessly into the night. [BLACKOUT]"Heck, I hear that even Kensei is in the States these days. It's going to be a real gas."[/BLACKOUT]

 

[Watchman]

The Doktor is in...

"Deep within the outskirts of Lost Haven is a stone manor. Leading up to it is a gentle path with a pond at its side and fish swimming in it. At the begainning of the path, past the beautiful plant life is a swing sign that reads, Lost Haven Hospital for the Mind. Of course this is all just a facade. Beneath the shiny exterior is a dark void. One where light comes to fester and darkness illuminates.

For many years this place was run by Dr. Simon "Butcher" Krause. Dr. Krause was a cruel man. Little know fact during his tenure he took a vacation to Germany to some volunteer work. He would perform deranged experiments on his patients up until the closing not due to public outrage, Krause made sure no one knew of his experiments, but of a great fire that took the lives of many of its patients and staff. In 1958 a pyromaniac set fire to the operating room. The fire quickly spread due to some chemical and the resulting explosion took care of the rest. Dr. Krause's log was release to the press and the rest is history.

Then one day people reported seeing lights and noises coming from the place. Police and city officials brushed it off as people being superstitious. Reports became numerous and the police started up an investigation. They found nothing. Parents tell their children ghost stories of the bogeyman known as Krause and no one sets foot on the House of the Mad Doctor."

The sound of the book slamming echo through out the lab. Lights then flickered back on as a man or what looked like a man had turned them back on.

"Honestly, Herr Zero, must you read that to everyone." A Man wearing goggles sits up from a giant red chair.

"Not to everyone, Dr. Krause, but only to the wee ones." On the table in front of him stood a small cage no bigger than one for a few mice. Inside were about five human beings on shrunken down to the sizes of action figures. The tiny people looked up at the two men. One looked like almost normal. He had short black hair, oddly shaped goggles, wore a black shirt with a doctor's coat, odd looking gloves, black pants, and some weird looking boots. The one known as Krause was anything but. He or it wore a long black trenchcoat and black sunglasses, that is where normalcy ends. His entire body looked like a walking universe.

"Don't you have work to do, boy?"

"Oh don't mind him. He's just a little testy cause I was the one who started the fire. Yeah he caught me stealing patients and I turned him into a singularity then I shot him all over the galaxy!" He picked up one of the tiny people and threw them. A giant mechanical hand grabbed it. The hand belong to a half giant monkey half robot who proceeded to eat the person.

"I guess your right. I do have a lot of work ahead of me and I shouldn't spend all my time telling stories of peons. Let's begin, shall we?"

 

[Catman_prb]

Lost Haven, 1886

The Professor sprinted down the street as fast as his scrawny legs could carry him. The top hat had been lost some time ago, and the cane had been smashed over some poor lackey's head as the night drew on. In his haste, he ran into the dark alley between some bar and what appeared to be a brothel. He only realised his mistake when dark shapes appeared at the end he was heading towards. Without stopping, he span on the spot, facing the direction he'd already came. More agents.

"Come on gentlemen, let's talk about this reasonabley," he said, hands in the air as they approached him. There was a crack as something connected with the back of his head and everything went black.

Lost Haven, 2008

The walls to his cell were ten inch concrete. The small slit from which he received his food was reinforced with tungsten steel, and the door was electrified. Just in case. The Professor sat in his shirt sleeves, waistcoat over the top, legs crossed, playing a game of chess, seemingly with himself. He looked up as the door opened, mild curiosity sparking in his eyes.

"Agent Cassidy, it's a pleasure,"

"Professor. We need your help,"

"Yes, I rather thought you might,"

 

[Catman_prb]

The best way to predict the future, is to invent it
-Alan Kay

"What is it that you want Cassidy?"

"There's a virus that's affecting people's actions. They become part of a hive mind, and start-"

"Where is this?"

"London, England,"

"Are there any other London's?"

****​

Camden Market was especially crowded on a saturday afternoon. It was packed with Japanese tourists with flashing cameras, broody looking goths browsing some particularly disturbing stalls and a couple of bikers looking at the leathers. Among them walked a man with curly brown hair that reached down to just above his shoulders, a Victorian waistcoat that had a pocket watch hanging out of the top.

He seemed to be wandering around aimlessly between the stalls, stopping idly for a few minutes then carrying on, sometimes walking around in a wide circle and going back the way he came. Occasionally, he'd stop alltogether and drop down to the ground, sniffing for something. Of course, being Camden Market, no one thought anything of it.

However, one girl who was walking around seemed to think differently. Jenny Wright was a student of about nineteen who was attending the local university. She had red hair that trailed down her back in a messy pony tail, a freckly face and slight build. As normal, she wore a long leather coat that brushed the floor when she walked.

"Excuse me, love," she said, touching the man's shoulder. He looked up, startled.

"Yes?"

"Do you need a hand?" she said kindly. He gave a brief smile.

"Oh no, I'm fine thankyou," he said, a hint of upper class voicing itself.

"Right," she said, turning to leave.

"I'm the Professor by the way," he said standing up.

"Professor of what?"

"Doesn't matter. I think you'd better come with me,"

"Erm...why?"

"Something very bad is about to happen,"

 

[Catman_prb]

If you would be a real seeker after truth, it is necessary that at least once in your life you doubt, as far as possible, all things.
- Rene Descartes

Jenny took a step back.

"You're insane," she said shaking her head. He smiled, a small, contained thing.

"Maybe I am, but let me tell you something about yourself. Every day you go about your business, acting normal as you can, talking, smiling, doing everything you should. But it's all fake. You're just pushing through until the next day, then the next, then the next, waiting for your life to begin. You feel that you're made for something greater, but you can't see what it is. You want to live, but you're too afraid to try. And every night, you look out of your window at the night's sky and you think to yourself 'I wish it could be different'. But it can't be different. You, can. You can be more," he said, very quickly, watching her green eyes widen in shock.

"How did you....do you know me?"

"Isn't that the question we all ask ourselves?" the Professor said, a twinkle in his eye.

"Talk sense," Jenny demanded.

"So now you have to make a choice. Continue to fake life, go through the motions. Or take a chance to live, and take my hand," he said, extending said hand forwards to her. She bit her lip and hesitated.

"You can be more," he whispered.

She reached out and took it. He smiled, and held up his other hand, which held a golden pocketwatch. He pushed the fob, and the pair disappeared. Then the market blew up.

 

[Blacklight]

N i g h t m a r e s:
Act I
​

Chapter 40: The Descent, pt.5...


After my little bout with Murderball and my talk with the cops explaining his and the sword's escape, the rest of the trip was pretty boring until the ride home. I got to sit with Kristi again afterwards. She was so beautiful, and if she wasn't still with that Steve guy, I would've told her how I felt, but I was a chicken when it came to girls. But hey, at least she still feels like she can trust me. Because when i lived in Vernova, I wasn't the most likeable kid around...

But then I came home soon after we got back, and I opened the door to see my mom awaiting my arrival.

"How was the field trip, Jonathan?"

"Not bad, ma. Although I think I'm gonna have a quick nap. Kind of exhausted..."

"Well... Okay then..."

"Thanks, mom." I said as I headed up the stairs for my room. I quickly headed for my closet to put my bag in there, but when I opened the door, what I found inside had me astounded beyond belief. It was right there in front of me, and I had no idea how...

Spoiler

It was the sword... The Descender. I had to return it to the museum.

If I changed and headed over there right now, I could make it before they close...

Why would you want to do that?​

What are you talking about? It's the right thing to do! That's why...

Are you sure about that? How do you know that keeping it isn't the right thing to do?​

Because it's been stolen. And I'm not a thief...

You're right, Jonathan. You're not a thief. You didn't take the sword. But look at it! Why else would it be here in your house unless it wanted you to have it? To use it in your war against crime?​

Really? You think it chose me? How can it do that? It's just a sword...

It's an enchanted sword, remember? "Only one of great power can unlock it's abilities..."​

Me? Why me?

Because you, Jonathan, Blacklight, have the strength to unlock the sword's potential and to use it's power for the betterment of mankind...​

Really? But the last guy who used it went nuts...

But he didn't have superpowers, did he? You can overcome it, Jonathan. I have faith in you...​

Okay. I'll do it. Besides, it's not really "stealing" as much as it is "borrowing"...

That's the spirit...​

And that, was the first day of my Descent into darkness...

 

[Spike_x1]

Sharkman was secluded in a world of darkness.

His vision displayed nothing. His hearing was deafened. His senses wouldn't work. He couldn't even feel the beat of his heart. But he could definately think. And all that surged through his mind was one, painfully considered posssibility. Am I... dead?


Such a strange turn of fate, that would be, to suddenly succumb from an act of heroism. But it wasn't entirely unacceptable, by Mark's standards. After all, there were many worse things to die as. A killer. A cheater. A liar. A villain. A... monster, as he had once thought of himself, shortly after he had aqquired his powers. But no, that's not what he wanted to go out as. He wanted to go exactly as it seemed... helping those who couldn't help themselves. Being the selfless champion he had strived to be since he was a kid, after having to endure the death of his mother at such a young age. But the question still remained as to what had really happened to him. Was he really dead? Or just unconcious? And if so, how could he possibly think to himself?

"Get up, bro."

Sharkman turned, startled by the sudden voice that broke free from seemingly no origin. But the voice he heard was recognisable. Sharkman vaulted forward, into the black oblivion that surrounded him, as he floated as if he were submerged underwater.

"Ger?", He called out, confused.

"Fight it, Mark. You have to fight it. You can't let this be the end."

Sharkman turned back, hearing the other voice. He tried his best to see, so much that he had to resort to a squint. But still, there was nothing. And no one. Just the voices. And only the voices.

"Kylie?!", Sharkman exclaimed. "Hello? Is anybody there?!"

"We're here, baby brother."

Sharkman's eyes widened.

"Andy?!", He responded, alarmed at his brother's voice. "Where are you guys?! Am I losing it?!"

"Don't be silly, Marcus."

And that was when his spine ran cold.

He hadn't heard the voice since he was six. But it's warm, light hearted sincerity was clear and crisp, as if it were being spoken to him here and now. Pulling back his mask, Mark raced forward, trying to penpoint the source of it's origin with every trace of his strength.

"My god... no, it can't be...", He told himself, before coming to a devastating halt, as a figure stood infront of him, miles ahead. And that's when he realised it. That's when it became all so cruely clear...

"...Mom..."

Not even stopping to consider rational thought in that moment, Mark charged, his inhuman speed bringing the figure to a blurred halt, as he approached it like he had never approached anything in his life. He was determined. He was going to see his mother again. And then, maybe all would be right with the...

Mark's eyes widened, realising something as he came within an inch of grabbing her. Her features seemed to slowly melt off of her, revealing a dark figure with bloodshot red eyes, a skeletal face, and tattered clothing. The symbolism of the undead, and the very figure of Death itself. This wasn't his mother. It was a trick. A cold, unfathomed trick of his emotions.

Coming to a stop that would've surely split the ground in two, if he were standing on any sort of ground, Mark pulled his mask back over his face and leaped back, narrowly avoiding Death's outstretched fingers, as they reached for him. Coming to a landing, onto unseen solid ground, Sharkman faced the figure as it slowly, yet eerily shook it's finger back and forth, facing him, and speaking one lone, chilling message.

"Another Time, Perhaps"

His presence had been felt in a great number of the post-humans on this Earth. There was no denying it, and truth be told, the Reaper fully embraced that fact. Like well placed pawns, his agents were in place through the world and his goals would be met. The Reaper had waited untold millennia to reach the fall of this age, and now it was practically within his grasp. The first stage was set to begin to rearrange the natural order of the universe into how it was always meant to be: The Dead walks the Earth, and to maintain the necessary balance, an unstoppable force of life is also somewhere on this dirtball. The only question remaining was who exactly is the avatar of life? The Survivor? Lyle? Psycho? Another of the post-humans? Not that it mattered very much at all; whoever is the embodiment of life would eventually make themselves known as such soon enough.

Now, however, it was simply a matter of engaging his plan to bring things full circle to this troubled world, and every thing and every life that it touched. The Circle was the key.

In the pitch black palm of the Reaper's hand, he held the vision of the many heroes and villains in this world. Their lives were swirling and intertwining together; his only regret was that not even he could foresee how their fates would unfold. He could merely guide them all into the coming order. They all had their roles to play, after all.

"Mr. Blake, sir?" A gentle knock came from the door as the Reaper looked away from his vision and smiled.

"The door is open, Travis," replied the Reaper as the cloak of darkness surrounding him peeled away in strips and layers, and disappeared into nothingness, leaving a dashing and sleek man leisurely standing beside his large desk.

The well dressed assistant opened the door to his employer's office and stepped inside, pushing his glasses up and clearing his throat. "The last of the press is arriving now, and are waiting in the conference room."

Blake looked at his reflection in the large windows around his office and straighten his tie. "How much time until we start?"

"Five minutes, Mr. President."

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Icon


Prologue:
Ravage!​

Deep beneath the city of Lost Haven, a work crew is tasked with cleaning up the carnage after one of the labs top secret "projects" has escaped the confines of his cell...cutting a bloody swath through much of the facility's security staff, as well as the scientists who called the subterannean laboratory home.

"So, which one of these freaks was it?" One of the workers asks as he loads parts of one, or several of the victims into a bodybag.

"It was 'him', 667." The man responds.

"667? That thing is a lunatic!" The worker says, feeling a sudden pang of fear creep into his very soul.

"You think?" The man responded, more hostility in his voice than he had intended.

"It's just that...with this thing out there, nobody's safe, ya'know?"

"Yeah, I know. God help us, because he's out there, and I don't think there's anyone out there that can stop him."