The "From The Pages Of..." Comics Universe RPG

The Spirit's hands rise up, caressing Ellen's neck. Gently, he runs his hands through her flowing blonde hair. But as he parts the hair to reveal her face, leaning upwards to move in for a passionate kiss, he is horrified by what he sees hovering over him.

Ellen's face is gone. In its place is a dark, burning countenance brimming with a wretched good cheer. Teeth glimmer bright white, lined up like shark's teeth, and eyes glow with a terrifying red light which seemed to cast all other features into shade.

"Hello, lover."

I push the man off of me and stumble up out of my bedroom.

"Aww, baby. Come back to bed!" He cackles as I run out of my place and into Wildwood Cemetary wearing nothing but my underwear and my mask.

I run through the darkness until I trip over on my own feet and fall face first in front of someone's grave marker.

My eye dart upward and moon light shines on the headstone, revealing the name.

Denny Colt
1981-2005

"Ahh!" I yell in fright.

I'm not suppose to be dead, no. I came out alive from that accident three years ago...didn't I?

Just then, a pair of gray arms shoot out of my grave and grab me by the face.
 
It was 11:14 at night by the time a black SUV pulled into Level 14A, the sparse parking complex only occupent, a slate gray van, had waited their for over an hour.

The SUV's driver and two passenger step out of the spotless vehicle, leather jackets, open collar shirts, tacky jewerly, hair slicked back with an excessive amount of gel, they looked and carried themselves like typical wiseguys. The crew from the van got out as well, they looked more like street urchins compared to the three they were meeting.

"Ya late."

"Traffic problem on the bridge, took ****in forever to get through it."

The courtesy of small talk obilgated, the two criminal parties went straight into business.

"So you got the stuff?"

"Uh huh, you got the money?"

"Show us the stuff."

"No way, you don't see the stuff until we see the money."

The leader of the street gang handed a school backpack across to one of the wiseguys, who then unzipped it, revealing it stuffed with money.

"Twenty grand, it's all there, now can we see the stuff?"

Satisfied with their earnings, they slid a briefcase across the wet concrete to the street punks, they got into it right away to examine the various powders wrapped in plastic, smelling it, tasting it to determine purity. It went down like any business transaction should, quiet and without incident.

The street gang returned to their van and were first to drive out of the complex. They were just outside of the ground level when........


BOOOM!!!

The van was incinerated by a explosion, tossing flaming debris all about the street. The wiseguys had watched from Level 14B.

"What was in that case, not real merchandise I hope."

"Nothing really, just a little product watered down with talcum powder, plus that good sized chunk of C-4."

After dropping the detonator into a trash can, the three got in their SUV and pulled out of their space and down the ramp, now joking about the easy twenty thousand they suckered those punks out of.

Then out of nowhere, something heavy smashes into the windshield.

"OH S**T!"

The driver lost control of the wheel and his once perfect SUV crashed into the wall, his head hit the steering wheel and blood started trickling from a small cut. The front passenger wasn't wearing his seatbelt and went head first out the ruined windshield, a mangled bloody mess remained of him, the passenger in the back wasn't hurt at all as he got out immeaditly, the driver got out as well.

"Who the **** did this to my ****in car, I'll butcher the mother****er!

The driver fumed his anger at the paintcan that caused the crash, both of them reached into their coats to pull their holstered guns. The uninjured one was getting scared, his iron shaking in his sweating palms, the injured driver was steady, but the in his forehead was blurring his vision, and the bleeding wasn't helping him at all. All he was able to make out was a huge black shape rushing towards him.


THUD!!!

The driver went down hard, the cut on his head even bigger now.

"What the f...."

The lead pipe that took down his partner hit him in the wrist as he raised his gun, knocking the shot off target.

Darkman swung upward and caught the goon on the chin, knocking lower teeth out and breaking the jaw. However he wasn't done with the fallen thug and continued working him over with the pipe.

The driver had recovered from the blow to the head and was on his feet, he ran forward and tackled Darkman. He couldn't bring the rage-fueled madman to his feet, so he did his best to get an arm around his neck and choke out the maniac. Darkman retaliated, he grabbed the man's wrist and twisted around to face him, while the his other hand shot out from his pocket and shattered a glass vial against the driver's face.

Sizzling, foaming, and screaming echoed through Darkman's ears while eyes burned with the image of the criminals facial skin was eaten away by hydrochloric acid.

With both the creeps practically done for, Darkman grabbed the backpack of money and made his way to the fire exit.

**************


Stan Polchiek, a down and out photographer was talking a nightly stroll, his camera dangling about his scrawny neck as he treaded through puddles. He alway took the camera with him because he always thought something unexpected could happen and when it did, he would get the first snapshot of it. Tonight, he was right.

The explosion was heard a block away and Stan had ran all the way to observe the damage, a flaming pile of wreckage sent a column of smoke into the already polluted air. He got his camera up to his eyes and started snapping shots of the sight. He had three of wreck and then his eye caught something, a shadow passing the twisted metal inferno, he adjusted the camera lens and took the photo.

Darkman-figure-01.jpg


He wanted to take another, but the shadow man was gone, ducking into an alley to never be seen again. Excitement boiled in Stan's belly, the papers were always willing to pay a good amount for strange sightings like this.
 
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REVOLVER OCELOT

Ocelot paced down the corridor with Company Agent Frank Jaeger on his way back from the med lab.

"Bruised ribs sir?"
He enquires, nodding to the man who may as well be his mentor's newly bandaged abdomen.

He grunted in reply. Obviously his mind on other things.

"Maybe you're getting slow old man?"

This made Ocelot react, just as Jaeger had predicted.

"Watch your tongue boy." He growled, only half serious, he let Frank get away with more than any of the other recruits, partially because of he reminded him of himself. The young, prematurely grey man standing just a head shorter than Ocelot was a formidable fighter to be sure, handy with a blade. He rarely ever carried a firearm, prefering ancient swords over more... direct methods. In some ways he was the polar opposite of Ocelot.

"Come on sir, we both know you're not going to slow down till you stop breathing."

The rest of the walk was in contemplative silence until Jaeger spoke up once more.

"I hear they're merging our Company with FOXHOUND." He said, a certain curiousness in his voice. Ocelot raised an eyebrow, suprised at the amount of information available to the young man.

"The most impressive collection of freaks outside of Level 5." He nods.

"Are they to be trusted?"

"Not at all... Then again, they'd say the same about us."

Ocelot came to a halt outside a room and waited for his cue.

NIKI SANDERS
UNKNOWN LOCATION

Niki Sanders awoke from her bed, gasping as she took in the new sights around her. Where was she, how had she gotten here?

She struggled to lean herself up, but to no avail. Someone had chained her wrists and ankles to the bed forcing the scared Niki to lie back on the uncomfortable pillow.

A man walked up to her, leaning over bed to look her straight in the eyes.

"Ah, Miss Sanders. I'm glad to see you wake up. Now the question is, which Miss Sanders are you?" He gave a small chuckle he finished his question.


"Where am I? What am I doing here?"


The man leaned in closer

"Why Miss Sanders, I'm surprised you don't recognize me. It is me, Mr. Bishop. You know, the man who you talked to two years ago for help before completely disappearing. Unfortunately for you, Miss Jessica couldn't keep quiet and we were able to find you."


Niki relaxed a little bit. She had come here before out of her free will, but hadn't found much help. She had no idea what this company was capable of; maybe they could help her this time for good.

"I'll assume from your relative calmness that you are Nicole Sanders at the moment. Now I assure you that we will do everything in the power to help you."

He smiled.

"But maybe we can make this work for the both of us. Jessica, are you there?"

I stare at him as I flip my head over the pillow.

"Well hello there Mr. Bishop. Seems like you caught me. Either you're actually beginning to do your job well, or Niki's getting old."


Bob gave another smile as he took keys from his hand and unlocked the shackles.

"What are you doing? You do know I'm capable of ripping your head off right now."

That fool. What's he gonna do to keep me from killing the bastard who captured me in the middle of an important mission. That money was going to go a long way.

"I know you're capable of many things Miss Sanders, more than Nicole will ever now. Here, we want to help you unlock your full potential."


I stare at him blankly.

"So what, are you offering me a desk job?"

"Oh Jessica, we have far better use for you. We want to re-employ you considering Nicole is an unreliable agent, we believe you may be the better choice."


He gave one final sinister smile as I felt a small case of the creeps.

"Meet your new partner. Ocelot? Would you please come in?"

He sauntered into the room, his long brown trenchcoat flapping around his legs.

"Hello again my dear."
 
He sauntered into the room, his long brown trenchcoat flapping around his legs.

"Hello again my dear."

JESSICA SANDERS
COMPANY MED LAB

I stare blankly at Bob.

"You have to be kidding me. I am not working with this old man."

The still expressionless face of the Company Head gave me another smile. God, why does he keep smiling?

"Well as I may recall Miss Sanders, Agent Ocelot here was able to take you down at the Bank. I know he is fully capable to be your partner. I know you know about the rules Jessica, "One of us, one of them." One regular person, and one 'special' person."

I can't take this anymore. I'm sick of all the crap they're feeding me. Like I'm really captured anyway, these chains can't hold me.

With ease I snap the two chains raising up, and grabbing the throat of the Bob who still shows no signs of emotion. That really irritates me.

Powers_niki_chokes_bob.jpg


"Now remind me why I would settle down with you guys when I could easily break out and continue my life"


He laughed. That's it, I'm ripping his head off if he smiles or laughs at me one more time.

"Because Jessica, if you refuse to help us, then we will tell Niki all about how Micah really isn't dead and you made the whole thing up to get her out of her past, making it easier to manipulate the poor girl"

Damn him. Saying Micah was dead was the only way to get Niki to listen to me again. If she knew I was lying...well I knew Niki had some strength.

"Not to mention the identity of the girl found in the coffin. Do you really think we would believe the newspaper headlines about a girl who saves children but dies. Jessica darling, the body of the supposed 'Niki' was found two days later by the river. Now how could that have happened?"


Damn him. Damn damn damn. I'll show them, I'll show all of them not to mess with Jessica Sanders. For now, I'm not risking my plans.

I give the best smile I can muster to hide my rage.

"So what's our first mission?"
 
JESSICA SANDERS
COMPANY MED LAB

I stare blankly at Bob.

"You have to be kidding me. I am not working with this old man."

The still expressionless face of the Company Head gave me another smile. God, why does he keep smiling?

"Well as I may recall Miss Sanders, Agent Ocelot here was able to take you down at the Bank. I know he is fully capable to be your partner. I know you know about the rules Jessica, "One of us, one of them." One regular person, and one 'special' person."

I can't take this anymore. I'm sick of all the crap they're feeding me. Like I'm really captured anyway, these chains can't hold me.

With ease I snap the two chains raising up, and grabbing the throat of the Bob who still shows no signs of emotion. That really irritates me.

Powers_niki_chokes_bob.jpg


"Now remind me why I would settle down with you guys when I could easily break out and continue my life"


He laughed. That's it, I'm ripping his head off if he smiles or laughs at me one more time.

"Because Jessica, if you refuse to help us, then we will tell Niki all about how Micah really isn't dead and you made the whole thing up to get her out of her past, making it easier to manipulate the poor girl"

Damn him. Saying Micah was dead was the only way to get Niki to listen to me again. If she knew I was lying...well I knew Niki had some strength.

"Not to mention the identity of the girl found in the coffin. Do you really think we would believe the newspaper headlines about a girl who saves children but dies. Jessica darling, the body of the supposed 'Niki' was found two days later by the river. Now how could that have happened?"


Damn him. Damn damn damn. I'll show them, I'll show all of them not to mess with Jessica Sanders. For now, I'm not risking my plans.

I give the best smile I can muster to hide my rage.

"So what's our first mission?"

"Quite the overreaction there girl." Ocelot stated calmly, not moving a muscle as Jessica brought Bob back down from off the wall.

"Now now Adamska, It's to be expected."
Bob said, straightening his suit out and re-gaining his composure.

"The mission Boss?"
Ocelot grew impatient, he thought the rotund head of the Company to be a bumbling fool.

"I'm getting to it Ocelot... Now, as you both know there are certain individuals out there with powers beyond comprehension that lack the restraint enough to keep there thirst for power in check. Ocelot here has dedicated his life to tracking down the most dangerous and bringing them in."

"Spare us the history lesson Sir."
Revolver half-growled, not wanting to spend another minute in the same room as either of these people.

"I'm sending you two after public enemy number one."

"Sylar?" He caught himself saying in suprise, for some reason Bob had always shown reluctance to put Ocelot on Sylar's case.

"I believe that the two of you working in tandem can bring down our friend permenantly."

"I would've done it years ago if you hadn't put that fool Bennet on the job." Ocelot spat, the two had come to blows in the past over there contrasting views on the company.
 
JESSICA SANDERS
COMPANY MED LAB

I shift my gaze back and forth between the two with a puzzled look on my face.

"Wait slow down. Not all of us have been working here since the stone age"


I glare at the old man, as he glares back. Oh I just know we're gonna get along so well. Bob really knows how to integrate agent pairs.

"Who the hell is Sylar?"

Bob turns to face me.

"Sylar? There's too much details on case to discuss now Miss Sanders. All you need to know is that Sylar is a very bad man, and you're going to end his terror."


Well, sounds easy enough. The hard part will waiting every five minutes for the old man to catch up.

"Fine I'm in. If I catch this Sylar guy, then whatever you know about what happened two years ago is not to be told to Niki. You hear me?"


"Oh Miss Sanders, I hear you. Very well. Ocelot, would you be so kind enough to inform Miss Sanders here about the case as you depart?"
 
It's quiet for way too long inside the galley. Even Jayne doesn't do his usual griping.

"Well...we're waiting....what's the plan, O'cap'n my cap'n?"

Seeing as how I found the datapad, I have a good idea what Mal's got rolling around in his head.

"Is it gonna involve shootin' a lot of soldiers?" Jayne asked, leaning back in his chair.
"Cos I could really go for some of that about now,"

"The less shootin' the better, but it does involve soldiers."

"Seems the Alliance is transporting a large shipment of gold to some out of the way planet for the war effort"
, spoke Mal as he looked over his crew.

"And I aim to relieve 'em of it", Mal smirked.

"Plan is that we make it planetside before the shipment arrives. We find us a nice cozy spot and set up. When the shipment arrives we ambush 'em before they can transport it to the local garrison."

"We do this quick and efficient, and we get out before they can sound the alarm."

The crew sat silently for a moment after Mal finished speaking, taking in his proposed idea.

"Questions?"
 
I push the man off of me and stumble up out of my bedroom.

"Aww, baby. Come back to bed!" He cackles as I run out of my place and into Wildwood Cemetary wearing nothing but my underwear and my mask.

I run through the darkness until I trip over on my own feet and fall face first in front of someone's grave marker.

My eye dart upward and moon light shines on the headstone, revealing the name.

Denny Colt
1981-2005

"Ahh!" I yell in fright.

I'm not suppose to be dead, no. I came out alive from that accident three years ago...didn't I?

Just then, a pair of gray arms shoot out of my grave and grab me by the face.

Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick...

"They say that all good souls go to Heaven. It's the damned that are doomed to walk the Earth after death."

The decaying grey arms gripping onto The Spirit by his hair, pulling him down into the muck of the grave's surface.

"What did you do with your life, Denny? Do you think your soul is worth saving?"

The Spirit tried to push himself away, but the mud merely absorbed his hands, like quicksand, pulling him down deeper into the grave. And with his face pressed against it, slowly sinking in to, he could make out something else beginning to burrow its way up to the surface...

TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK...

"The clock is ticking, Denny. You're on borrowed time. Come midnight, the devil comes a-callin' for you."

And with that, whatever was pushing its way up through the surface finally burst through. It was a face, and it pressed right up against The Spirit's. It rose up as his sank down. The face was that of a corpse, steadily decomposing. The eyes had sunk into the skull and disintegrated, the skin had turned grey and began to rot away, exposing blackened flesh and skull underneath. But it was still recognisable. It was the face of Denny Colt.
 
Hi there, my name is Ash....

Ash Williams, dressed in his crisp S-Mart uniform shirt, was walking down aisle after aisle, a pricing gun in his left hand, and in his right hand, or where his hand use to be, was a hook apparatus for his stump.

I live alone in a small, two bedroom house in a little place called Dearborn.

You've probauly already heard the story before, but those who've haven't, I'll give ya the lowdown. When I was a young kid, me, my sister, my girlfriend Linda, and some other friends went to a little cabin up in the woods for some R and R before finals.

click..click..click

Ash slapped new price stickers on a boxed set of lawn chairs.

While there, we stumbled on an ancient evil in the form of a book, Necronomicon Ex-Mortis, The Book of the Dead.

click..click..

Another unbeatable S-Mart bargain on a portable grill.

It was made thousands of years ago, wrapped in tortured flesh and inked with blood, this ancient Samarian text contained bizarre burial rights, funeral incantations, and demon resurrection passages. I wasn't meant for the world of the living, I found that out firsthand.

click...click...click

Ash hummed to himself as he priced down various sets of cutlery.

After playing a tape with translations from the book, it awoke something evil in those woods. As that endless night went on, we became the victims of demonic beings known as Deadites.

click..click...click

They took away my friends, my sister, my girlfriend, even my hand, which I had to lop off at the wrist.

click...click...click

And when I thought things couldn't get worse, I get tossed back in time, to the time when men carried swords and shields and wore chainmail pajamas. I had to face an entire stinking army to get back home.

click...click...click

Ash, now out of price stickers, walked off to the employees office for a fresh roll.

Besides from that trouble, I got one hand left, I'm pushing fifty and I still have the same job I had thirty years ago.

Reloaded with stickers, Ash walked back to the Housewares aisle and continued pricing and whistling.

But in my book, It's the best job in the world. I got alot to be grateful for, and I think that my troubles with the Deadites are over.

Ash paused for moment.

But that's what I always said when it starts right back up again. Well, we'll jump that bridge when we come to it.


click...click...click

Another unbeatable bargain sticks to a boxed fondue set.

ash01sm.jpg


And always remember, shop smart, shop S-Mart.
 
It had been a long day, a long day of helping stupid people, with their stupid questions, all because he had a cover to maintain as a Buy More sales associate. And it wasn't just the customers that annoyed John Casey. No, pretty much anything with a pulse could do that. The stupid people he had to work with did just as much in effort to drive the secret agent to embark on a rampage with his trusty Desert Eagle. For now though, they only drove him to drink. He sat at the bar, on his fifth glass of Scotch. Tomorrow was his day off from the Buy More.

"This seat taken?"

He looked over at the voice, soft and feminine. She had a face to match, her brown eyes sparkling as she looked at Casey.

Nice full lips... I'd like to see them around... And she's got a nice body too. Must work out.

"Uh. No. Go ahead."

"Keep drinking like that and your liver's gonna look like cottage cheese."

"Meh. I'm not worried about it."

She sat down and ordered a vodka tonic of her own, as she glanced again at the man sitting next to her in his green polo.

"Long day at work?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Which I can't."

"Oh, I'd say you'd have to try me. I believe just about anything. My name's Sydney by the way, what's yours?"

"John. But my friends call me Casey."

"Middle name?"

"No. Last name."

"Get in the habit of going by that in the military?"

"Could say that."

They chatted over a few more drinks before they left the bar together, Sydney offering to drive the drunk Casey home.

As they drove, she glanced at him and asked him a question. "You said you were in the military? What branch."

"No. I shaid you could shay I was in it. Not really. NSA. I shouldn't have said that. Now I'm gonna have to kill you. Damn shame too, you're pretty."

"Thought I recognized you from somewhere. I've read your file Agent Casey. If you weren't so drunk I'd be worried that you would be able to follow through on that threat. Agent Sydney Bristow, CIA."

As she said that she pulled up to Casey's apartment building.
"Why is it that the CIA gets all the hot ones? We get General Beckman. She has that lesbian vibe about her. Not you though.""

He decided to chance and leaned over to kiss her...

*beep beep beep beep*

Casey's hand blindly reached to his nightstand, grabbing not the alarm clock that was blaring in his ear, but his pistol.

*Bang*

The alarm clock blew into hundreds of fragments as a bullet tore through it.

"Stupid dream. Stupid alarm clock. No more Alias before bed."
 
Sylar.jpg


My mother always said that I was special, that I was meant for great things. I always wanted to believe her but I always knew in my heart that I would follow in my father's footsteps. It was preordained sense the day I was born I guess, the Watchmaker's son becomes the Watchmaker himself. No the title of "special" always went to the people who could afford it or the people that would quick abuse it. Heh please excuse my rant, im very.....emotional on the subject.

I came to turns with my disgustingly mundane life at an early age and fulfilled the destiny that was assigned to me when my father passed away taking over his watch making and repair business. Surprisingly enough I found I had a knack for it, I could tell what was wrong with a watch just by looking at it. Of course I know now that it wasn't just a knack but.......heh I guess im getting ahead of the story huh? Anyway the work wasn't all that bad and it put food on the table for my mother and me. But even so I still had that craving, that need, to be special. And than I met Dr. Suresh.......

Im sure you all know what happens after that so I won't bore you with the details. All you need to know now is that Gabriel Grey is dead, he died the night my mother had her.....accident. My name is Sylar.......


sylar1.jpg


It's been two years sense I've recovered my lost abilities and in that time alot of things have changed. The sheep now knows of those "special" people now and with that new acceptance has come more public displays of abilities. Needless to say this has made the hunt all that much easier. Oh the gifts that I've gained.....but anyway there's now a negative aspect to this. The company has stepped up their game, literally becoming a liaison to the government! They've been assigned to police our kind, fighting fire with fire and putting me at the top of their most wanted list. But let me assure you, they've suffered more losses at this point than I have. All they've succeeded in doing is make me stronger. Now if you'll excuse me my 5 o'clock just showed up..........
Sylar.jpg


It took me a month of hunting but I finally found a ghost (what normals call a person with the gift of invisibility, a rarity among supers) and I wasn't gonna let her go. I committed my full attention to memorizing her habits, where she went and who she met. Like clockwork she always ends up at this little diner a few blocks away from time square and has dinner with some guy, a nobody. They always eat the same thing and at the same time everyday. It was a simple matter of "disposing" of the nobody than take his place at the table using Candice's ability to disguise myself from my prey and the other patrons. A grin spreads across my face as the seat opposite me pulls itself out and an indentation appears in the seat.

"Hey Alex, how was work?"

My prey finally becomes visible and im temporarily stunned, shes' quite beautiful. Plastering a fake smile on the illusion I concentrate on the voice of the man that is now stuffed in a trash can a block away.

"Eh the usual. You?"

My prey (Diane I think her name was) lets out a sigh and wipes a lock of hair from her eyes.

"That creepy old guy came in again today. He didn't even order anything, he just sat at the bar and stared at me. *sigh* Sometimes I wish I could just stay invisible all the time you know."

"Now why would you want to do that? Why would you want to waste such a special gift just to hide from the world?"

A worried look crosses her face as she stares at me. I think my charade isn't working.

"Are you ok Alex? Your acting really.......odd."

That's it, time to end this.....

"Maybe I am.....I really haven't felt like myself today."

I bind her body to the chair just as she goes invisible. I let the illusion fade but cast a new one for the crowd around us, to them we're just a happy couple having a very interesting conversation.

"Wouldn't want you to be heading off somewhere now would we?"

Even though I couldn't see her face I could hear the gasp as she recognizes me.

"Oh god! Sylar!"

I get to my feet and approach the seemingly empty chair.

"My my I didn't know I've become so famous...."

"Are......are you gonna eat my brain?"

I can't help but let out a laugh. I mean who makes up these things?

"Diane that's disgusting. I simply need to take a look...."

I hear her anguished sobs as I push the chair back from the table and turn it towards me.

"Please don't do this!"

"Don't worry, it'll all be over quickly."

I point to her forehead and the cut starts to appear accompanied by her screams. Nobody hears it, nobody ever will.....

Five minutes later.....

I wipe away the blood from my hands as I turn away from the now visible body of Diane. My focus now is on my hands as I try out my newly acquired gift. My hands slowly start to fade away than spreads until I'm completely invisible.

"Amazing....."

Suddenly screams fill my ears as people around me look at my table in horror and than run. Looking down at myself I notice that I'm fully visible again.

"It's over Sylar!"

Ignoring the suited man that addressed me I focus my attention on the man behind him, the source of my power loss.

300px-TheHaitian001.png
 
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Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick...

"They say that all good souls go to Heaven. It's the damned that are doomed to walk the Earth after death."

The decaying grey arms gripping onto The Spirit by his hair, pulling him down into the muck of the grave's surface.

"What did you do with your life, Denny? Do you think your soul is worth saving?"

The Spirit tried to push himself away, but the mud merely absorbed his hands, like quicksand, pulling him down deeper into the grave. And with his face pressed against it, slowly sinking in to, he could make out something else beginning to burrow its way up to the surface...

TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK...

"The clock is ticking, Denny. You're on borrowed time. Come midnight, the devil comes a-callin' for you."

And with that, whatever was pushing its way up through the surface finally burst through. It was a face, and it pressed right up against The Spirit's. It rose up as his sank down. The face was that of a corpse, steadily decomposing. The eyes had sunk into the skull and disintegrated, the skin had turned grey and began to rot away, exposing blackened flesh and skull underneath. But it was still recognisable. It was the face of Denny Colt.

My screams cut through the night as I fight my corpse.

I pull with all my might against my rotten hands, the muscle is torn and decomposing, but strong as steel. It slowly pulls me towards it's rotten and worm-filled mouth....

"AHHHH!!!!" I scream as I leap out of bed.

My skin is broke out into cold sweats and a chill runs through my body.

I look around my dark bedroom, it's empty.

I slump to the floor and run my fingers through my hair.

Whatever the hell that was, it wasn't a dream...
 
The crew sat silently for a moment after Mal finished speaking, taking in his proposed idea.

"Questions?"

"Yes, in the off chance that this is an amubsh, and seeing as how we've been involved in a few of those that off chance is likely. What do we do?"
 
The fully lighted office suddenly goes dark. The only light coming from room came from the man's desk. The screen emits a blue light illuminating the man's face.

"It took you long enough, Jack."
The man says sternly leaning back in his chair.

"You can't rush these things, especially a job this size. I have my own codes and rules. You know the biggest ones." Jack has appeared on the man's computer screen. He leans against one side of the screen. His blank stare looking at the man.

"All the money has been deposited in the designated accounts. You can check them if you like." 9-Jack-9 walks off the computer screen and returns in the matter of seconds.

"Everything seems to be in order, old boy. Now, indulged my curiosity. Who are these people on your list?" The man begins to type Jack receiving each word.

"Oh my. Well, that purge that you helped orchestrate would be all for not if they succeed. I must be off then."

"Do not fail me."


"Oh I would never think to fail the great Darius Dax."
Jack disappears from the screen and the lights come back on.
 


I step out of the steamy shower and dry my hair vigorously. As my face is still wet, I apply a creamy layer of shaving cream before reaching for my razor. Moving gently along my chin, I shave off the stubble that was beginning to grow. Cupping my hands, I splash water on my face before diving headfirst into the towel again. When I emerge, I look at myself in the mirror. Not bad, Bartowski. Not bad, at all.

I search along the counter, finding a half-empty bottle of aftershave. Must be Devon's. Shrugging, I decide to use a little on myself. Placing the bottle back down, I next move to my deodorant stick. I methodically run the stick ten times under each arm. Next, I brush my teeth - taking care to put a little extra toothpaste on the brush. After thirty stinging seconds of mouthwash, I tie the towel around my waist and leave the bathroom.

I spend over a minute staring at my closet, reviewing my very limited wardrobe. Finally, I grab a white dress shirt and black dress pants. Accented by a plain green tie, my outfit comes together quite nicely - all things considered. I run a comb futilely through my stubborn, curly hair before deciding that it looks good enough. There's not much I can do with it, unfortunately.

Adjusting my tie as I walk out, I see Devon sitting at the dining room table. He looks up me and smiles. "Looking good, Chuck!" he announces proudly. He gets up and walks over to me, inspecting every little detail. After a moment, he pauses. "And you smell...awesome!"

"Thanks. It's your aftershave,"
I explain.

Devon pats me on the shoulder. "You made a good choice," he compliments. Leaning in closer, he whispers, "Ellie loves the stuff."

"No, I don't," a voice calls out from the kitchen. We both look to see Ellie entering the dining room - a playful smile on her face. Ellie and Devon exchange a quick kiss before turning to me. "Another big date with Sarah today?" Ellie asks.

"Yeah." It's just a cover date - as usual - but I'm hoping that today's the day when it turns into something more. I mean, I've just been getting this vibe from Sarah lately that...I don't know. Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself.

Devon laughs, shaking his head. "I don't know how you guys do it."

"Do what?"

"Keep this thing so fresh and exciting! I mean, you guys are almost too good of a couple to be true," Devon jokes. I just laugh nervously. Maybe it's because we ARE too good to be true.

"Well, have fun," Ellie announces with a smile. "We were just on our way out, actually." She looks at Devon.

After a pause, he agrees, "Yeah. Right. Not gonna get in your way." Devon grabs Ellie's coat and hands it to her before grabbing his own. On his way out, he turns back to me and winks. "Good luck, slugger."

Waving like an idiot, I respond, "Thanks. Have a good morning." After they leave, I spend a good fifteen minutes twiddling my thumbs. Finally, the doorbell rings and I jump to my feet.

"Hello, beautiful," I greet in my best attempt at "suave." Even I can admit that it sucked - as evidenced by Sarah's reaction.

"What?" she laughs.

I freeze in place, unsure of how to dispel the awkwardness. "Uh...I said..."

BANG!

As Sarah looks away, I finally exhale. "That sounded like it came from Casey's house," she states worriedly. Without any further conversation, she wanders cautiously in the direction of the shot.

"Yeah. Okay," I announce to myself. "Let's go investigate. Very romantic." Groaning, I follow Sarah as she slowly approaches the front door. She turns around and places a finger to her lips in the universal signal for, "Be quiet."

Sarah opens the door carefully, and I watch her reach for the gun tucked in her back pocket.
 
Last edited:
hellboy_logo.png

New York City. Manhattan. I don't much like this place, my father was killed in Brooklyn a few years back, and the whole city reminds me of it and I don't like hanging around here for long.

But, right now, bad memories are far away from my thoughts, I'm among friends, and right now I'm trying not to spray Pepsi out of my nose as I stifle my laughter.

"And by the time we realized what just happened, poor Winston already had the entire train just pass right through him!* Man, he was shaking like a leaf, you should've seen it, big guy."

Ray continues to laugh as he scoops some lo mein into his mouth with his chopsticks.

"I'd bet you guys wished you had somebody like me on your side back then."

"Yeah, but you'd also have made us look bad. I mean, I've seen you in action, you cause at least twice the amount of property damage that we do."

"True, but I've got the luxury of government backing to pay for that stuff."

He shakes his head and laughs, "You've got a point there HB. Speaking of which, you guys ever reconsider on us?"

I chew my eggroll, talking with a mouthful, "You know the stipulation, Ray."

He nods sadly, "You know we can't do that, Venkman's a friend, and he's part of the team. We're a package."

"I know."

We sit in awkward silence for a few moments, happens everytime Ray asks that the Ghostbusters join the Bureau. He knows the Bureau guys don't like Venkman, I agree with them, and even though they could definitely use guys like Stantz and Spengler in the Research branch (and I only rarely have a guy of Zeddemore's caliber watching my back), the BPRD refuses to deal with Peter Venkman. Guy pisses me off. I look around the packed bookshelves of Ray's store, a little side business he has, actually makes more money than the ghost stuff, but it's not his passion. Anyone can see that.

"So," I say, breaking the silence, "you've got the book?" I'm getting a book here for Anastacia's birthday.

"That copy of the Babylonian Talmud? Yeah," he nods, "was a ***** to find, but Egon finally tracked it down."

I wipe my mouth, closing up my food, "As long as you've got it." we clean up the mess from our meal and he goes to get the book, returning quickly with it wrapped in brown paper.

"Thought it'd be nicer if it were wrapped." he shrugs. I chuckle, for all the guy's seen and done, Ray Stantz is still an old softie.

"So how much do I owe you, for the food and the book?"

He waves his hand, shaking his head. "It's $250 for the book, but you don't have to pay for the food. I'm just glad to get a chance to sit and talk to you again."

"Yeah, it's been too long." I hand him the money and grab the book, "well, I've got to get going, my flight to India is early tomorrow and I'll need my rest, y'know?" I give him a big thumbs up with the right hand, as I turn to leave. "Take it easy, Ray."

"Wait!" he calls, I half-turn, "I almost forgot, there's something I heard that you should know."

"What? Is the book cursed? Tell me you didn't just sell me a cursed book, Ray."

"No it's not that. Well," he pauses and I give him a hard look, I love the guy, but I've really got to get going, "I don't know how to put this, but there's been some weird stories lately.."

"There're always weird stories, you know that."

"No, not like this. They're about frog-men, and they're supposedly in the sewers."

I drop both the book and my jaw. Frog-men?
 


I step out of the steamy shower and dry my hair vigorously. As my face is still wet, I apply a creamy layer of shaving cream before reaching for my razor. Moving gently along my chin, I shave off the stubble that was beginning to grow. Cupping my hands, I splash water on my face before diving headfirst into the towel again. When I emerge, I look at myself in the mirror. Not bad, Bartowski. Not bad, at all.

I search along the counter, finding a half-empty bottle of aftershave. Must be Devon's. Shrugging, I decide to use a little on myself. Placing the bottle back down, I next move to my deodorant stick. I methodically run the stick ten times under each arm. Next, I brush my teeth - taking care to put a little extra toothpaste on the brush. After thirty stinging seconds of mouthwash, I tie the towel around my waist and leave the bathroom.

I spend over a minute staring at my closet, reviewing my very limited wardrobe. Finally, I grab a white dress shirt and black dress pants. Accented by a plain green tie, my outfit comes together quite nicely - all things considered. I run a comb futilely through my stubborn, curly hair before deciding that it looks good enough. There's not much I can do with it, unfortunately.

Adjusting my tie as I walk out, I see Devon sitting at the dining room table. He looks up me and smiles. "Looking good, Chuck!" he announces proudly. He gets up and walks over to me, inspecting every little detail. After a moment, he pauses. "And you smell...awesome!"

"Thanks. It's your aftershave,"
I explain.

Devon pats me on the shoulder. "You made a good choice," he compliments. Leaning in closer, he whispers, "Ellie loves the stuff."

"No, I don't," a voice calls out from the kitchen. We both look to see Ellie entering the dining room - a playful smile on her face. Ellie and Devon exchange a quick kiss before turning to me. "Another big date with Sarah tonight?" Ellie asks.

"Yeah." It's just a cover date - as usual - but I'm hoping that tonight's the night when it turns into something more. I mean, I've just been getting this vibe from Sarah lately that...I don't know. Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself.

Devon laughs, shaking his head. "I don't know how you guys do it."

"Do what?"

"Keep this thing so fresh and exciting! I mean, you guys are almost too good of a couple to be true," Devon jokes. I just laugh nervously. Maybe it's because we ARE too good to be true.

"Well, have fun," Ellie announces with a smile. "We were just on our way out, actually." She looks at Devon.

After a pause, he agrees, "Yeah. Right. Not gonna get in your way." Devon grabs Ellie's coat and hands it to her before grabbing his own. On his way out, he turns back to me and winks. "Good luck, slugger."

Waving like an idiot, I respond, "Thanks. Have a good night." After they leave, I spend a good fifteen minutes twiddling my thumbs. Finally, the doorbell rings and I jump to my feet.

"Hello, beautiful," I greet in my best attempt at "suave." Even I can admit that it sucked - as evidenced by Sarah's reaction.

"What?" she laughs.

I freeze in place, unsure of how to dispel the awkwardness. "Uh...I said..."

BANG!

As Sarah looks away, I finally exhale. "That sounded like it came from Casey's house," she states worriedly. Without any further conversation, she wanders cautiously in the direction of the shot.

"Yeah. Okay," I announce to myself. "Let's go investigate. Very romantic." Groaning, I follow Sarah as she slowly approaches the front door. She turns around and places a finger to her lips in the universal signal for, "Be quiet."

Sarah opens the door carefully, and I watch her reach for the gun tucked in her back pocket.


Casey had pulled himself out of his bed and dragged his hungover self over to his bathroom sink. He wet a washrag and slapped it over his face to wash the gunk out of his eyes.

What time is it. 6:30? Goddamn it. I think I was supposed to open today. Oh well. What's Lester gonna do, fire me? Ha. He's scared of me, the little ****.

As he turned off the water, he heard the latch on his door click. Instantly, his hand went to his gun, and clicked the safety off.

He hugged the wall waiting by the open bathroom door, looking in the mirror to see the approaching enemy.
 
Death Valley.
A rock lizard, small and inconspicuous crawling up the thick stalk of the cactus bobbed its head. Overhead, the sun was burning high in a clear blue sky. The reptile, warmed from basking in the heat was ready to go hunting for any tiny morsel unlucky enough to come across his path.

The air around the cactus upon which he was resting crackled, growing thick and heavy. The lizard, sensing something was amiss hunkered down between the plants thick spines. Electricity sparked from nowhere, a quick flash crackling and singing the top of the cactus. Then more. The air grew hot and began to vibrate. The lightening was heavy now, like a miniture thunderstorm in the middle of the desert.

Panicking, the lizard bolted for the ground, running as fast as it could. As it reached the ground, the air evaporated in a super-heated spherical explosion. The cactus, the lizard and the ground all around the explosion evaporated in a crisp.

The air settled, thick with smoke as a perfect circle in the sand glowed white-hot. As the smoke cleared, the silhouette of a well muscled man appeared. He was kneeling, head bowed, unmoving.

Slowly, his head lifted, eyes opening to take in the bright light of the high noon.

[blackout]Imports System
Imports System.Text
Imports System.IO
Imports System.Diagnostics
Imports System.Threading
Imports System.ComponentModel

ProcessAsyncStreamSamples
Class ProcessAsyncOutputRedirection

Private Shared sortOutput As StringBuilder = Nothing
Private Shared numOutputLines As Integer = 0
Public Shared Sub SortInputListText()
.
Dim sortProcess As New Process()
sortProcess.StartInfo.FileName = "Sort.exe"
sortProcess.StartInfo.UseShellExecute = False
sortProcess.StartInfo.RedirectStandardOutput = True
sortOutput = new StringBuilder()
AddHandler sortProcess.OutputDataReceived, _
AddressOf SortOutputHandler
sortProcess.StartInfo.RedirectStandardInput = True

sortProcess.Start()
Dim sortStreamWriter As = sortProcess.StandardInput
sortProcess.BeginOutputReadLine()
Dim inputText As String
Dim numInputLines As Integer = 0
Do
Console.WriteLine
inputText = Console.ReadLine()
If Not String.IsNullOrEmpty(inputText) Then
numInputLines += 1
sortStreamWriter.WriteLine(inputText)
End If
Loop While Not String.IsNullOrEmpty(inputText) AndAlso numInputLines < 50
Console.WriteLine("
Console.WriteLine()
.Close()
sortProcess.WaitForExit()
If Not String.IsNullOrEmpty(numOutputLines) Then
Console.WriteLine(" Sort results = {0} sorted text line(s) ", _
numOutputLines)
Console.WriteLine("----------")
Console.WriteLine(sortOutput)
Else
Console.WriteLine(" No input lines were sorted.")
End If
sortProcess.Close()
End Sub
ct, _
outLine As DataReceivedEventArgs)

numOutputLines += 1

sortOutput.Append(Environment.NewLine + "[" _
+ numOutputLines.ToString() + "] - " _
+ outLine.Data)[/blackout]


The figure blinked twice and rose up to his full height.

[blackout]Cyberdyne Systems Series 800 Model 101 Version 2.4... ONLINE.[/blackout]​

jc.png

The last bullet clicked into place. Carefully, almost reverentially, John laid the full clip on the work-bench next to the handgun. Along the bench, his small arsenal, accrued from the black market around the country lay, oiled, conditioned and ready for use.

He knew from past experience that most of the weapons would not help him. The shotgun to his left would slow the machines down, the grenades or the RPG may even give him a fighting chance. But John knew, from the teachings of Sarah Connor, that the only to way to stand any real chance of survival was to run.

Having broken the weapons down, oiled them and carefully pieced them back together, John replaced the guns in a heavy metallic crate and placed it under the work surface.

The old abandoned factory he stood in was considered the closest thing to a home he had since he was a teenager... since the day the Machines had come for him. His mother had raised him on the road. Always running, never stopping, never looking back. But now she was gone and he was tired of running.

The building had once been a busy factory in a thriving industrial sector, but time and technology had moved on... just as it always does... and the factory and much of it's equipment had remained to rot away, lost and forgotten. Now though, it was as much a base of operations as it was a home.

John finished pulling a piece of tarp over the metallic weapons cache and sighed. As he did so a small alarm, amplified by the vast emptiness of the old building began whirring away. Johns heart hit his mouth as he dived over the unit. Racing through the maze of conveyor belts, machinery and equipment he came to a small office. Within it, a mass of wiring, motherboards, old screens and various other bits of tech blinked and beeped and whirred. The alarm signified that someone...or something had entered through the main gates of the industrial compound.

John wiped his sweating palms down the side of his dirty jeans and took a breath, trying to control the waves of adrenaline and fear and determination coursing through his veins. He tapped a few buttons on an old yellowing Compaq keyboard and cycled through various fuzzy live-feed images around the complex.

And that's when he saw him.


One of the images, a wide pan view of the main track through the compound brought everything into cold, stark clarity. A Motorcycle, big and grunting crawled its way up towards the building. It's rider, leather clad, dark shades in place over what john knew to be cold, piercing eyes. Framed by a hard, square jaw and a buzzcut military style haircut.

John stared as the image grew larger, the man.... the Machine... grew closer. This was why his mother had kept him running. This was why he should have never stopped and never looked back.

The Terminator had returned.

And John had nowhere to run.
 
Last edited:
58112191st1.png


"I want the location." I say as I hold the fat man by his collar.

"No…If I talk, I’m a dead man."

The fat man is Jimmy "The Knife" Canto. He’s Central City’s biggest bookie, taking in close to three hundred grand on a good sports weekend, sixty percent of that goes straight to The Octopus. Word on the street is that The Octopus is going out of town, something big is going down.

"Now, Jimmy. You know Octopus left town, you know this because his right hand….umm, person. Silken Floss paid you a little visit last night. She told you about his trip and told you where to deliver the money when they were out of town. Now spill the beans."

"Uh-uh. No way."

"Fine. Guess I’ll have to call Dolan, you’ll probably do some serious time in the Cooke State Pen. You got friends in there, right? Marco Hernandez, the meth king you rolled on and sent up the river for twenty years? I’m sure he’d love to see you."

"Okay! Fine, but after this you leave me alone."

"I’ll let you go this time."

"Okay, okay. She said he’s heading west to broker a deal with an organization out there. Guy named Wallenquist."

"How far west?"

A sick smile goes on Jimmy’s face as he looks at me.

"He’s headed to Sin City."

I feel my stomach drop as I let Jimmy go.

"I was hoping you wouldn’t say that."

Will Eisner’s


The Spirit


In


Sin City Knights

I spend most of the plane ride to Sin City looking out my window and wondering what I’ve gotten myself into.

I should be happy Octopus is taking a break from Central City, a lowlife like him fits in perfectly with the scum of Sin City, so why did I come here? Maybe it’s because I know that what he’s doing in Sin City will cause me headaches back home. Better to just go ahead and nip it in the bud.

"This is your captain speaking, we’ll begin our final approach into Basin City momentarily, please return to your seat and fasten your seat belts."

The summer heat hits me like a ton of bricks as I step out of the airport. Since it’s the middle of the day, I opt for the shades, T-shirt and jeans look instead of my mask and suit; all it would do at this hour is draw attention.

It’s sunny, hot and humid. The whole city stinks of desperation and despair, even the air all around me looks dull and hopeless.

I manage to catch a taxi and head on down to a sleazy motel room on the west side of town.

"That’ll cost ya fifty bucks a day." The clerk says while he takes massive bites of his sandwich.

"That’ll be fine." I say as I hand him two hundred-dollar bills.

"Okay then, mister?"

"Blue."

I kill a few hours by sleeping on the room’s dank and stained mattress. I wait until it gets good and dark before I slip it all on and head out into the night.


***************​

"I respectfully say to you, Mister Klump, that if I were in your so coveted position, I would dispense with the tom-foolery and simply do the job bestowed upon me." The fat man says to his little buddy as they lug a dead body out of a car and towards the waterfront.

"While wise and ever-knowing your council may be, Mister Shlubb. I respectfully inform you that it falls upon deaf ears as I concluded the appropriate recourse must simply be pure and utter termination of both parasite and host."

I watch from the shadows and wonder exactly what the hell these two are talking about. They’re both as dense as hammers, but they more about this town than I do and I can get some information from them. It’s a start.

"Mister Klump, it is with a heavy heart that urge you to search the inner workings of your soul and find the proper retort is to do the honorable thing as it were."

They toss the dead body into the water; it splashes as it starts to sink.

"Hey." I say to the two men as I step out of the shadows. Both men turn on me and pull out their guns.

"I advise that we proceed to perforate intruder until his heart no longer beats."

Gunfire rips through the calm night as I move quickly and slug the little guy with a right hook, he falls to the ground. My heel connects squarely with the fat man’s jaw, I hear it crunch as he drops his gun and falls like a bag of cement.

"Now, I’m going to ask you two a question and I want an answer in plain English."

I stand over the little guy, his gun in my hand.

"Who is Wallenquist?"

I hear him start to chuckle, even his fat friend laughs through a broken jaw.

"Wallenquist, you want to know who Wallenquist is? Hehehe. How about you go to his house?" The little man says as he tries to stifle his laughter.

"Go ahead and ring the door, my masked associate. I’m sure he would love you! Wallenquist is the end all be all of Sin City’s criminal activities, only the Roark family is above him in this town. He has all the cops in his pockets and all the hitmen on his payroll. Good luck, masked man. You will need it."

I toss the gun into the water and start to walk off from the two criminals.

"Hey, pal." I hear a gruff voice say from the dark.

marv.jpg


My eyes widen in shock as the figure steps out of the shadows.

"What's with the mask? You a fruit or something?" The massive man asks as he lights up a cigarette.
 
"Yes, in the off chance that this is an amubsh, and seeing as how we've been involved in a few of those that off chance is likely. What do we do?"

"We do what we always do", replied Mal.
"Get out'a there as quickly as possible."
 
ninja.jpg


It's been a few weeks since we have broken the surface, and already I see a change in the city. Criminals are running scared, and the people feel a little safer, if not a bit apprehensive about the stories they hear about us.

"Leo, looks like we've got something," Don's voice comes over the communicators he whipped up for us. He's taken more of a coordinator's role in the team. He goes out on patrol when we know "The silent alarm at the Metropolitan Museum of Art went off for about a second, then went dead. Could be a malfunction, could be something more."

"Copy that, Don. I'm the closest in the area. I'll check it out."

I leap down to street level in a dark alley, and descend into the sewers. It only takes me a few minutes to reach the Met, and I immediately sense something is out of place.

I scale the building using shukos, and notice the roof building entrance is slightly ajar.

I head down to the main level as quiet as death itself, and am blown away by what I find.

Ninjas. Twenty of them, taking every piece of art they can get their hands on. They are all identical, with a red head bands and black armor.

I draw my blades and dive into the group, taking down three with my leap.

"Come on now boys, didn't your mother ever teach you not to take things that don't belong to you?"

The horde turns to me, and one by one they attack me with great skill.

They're good. But I'm better.

I turn them away one by one, and then a giant of a man steps out of the shadows. He mearly grunts, and then yells, "NINJA VANISH!" as white smoke fills the room.

Smoke fills my lungs, and I begin to choke. I rush towards the front door, and into the New York night.
 
370577184612thespiritsukk2.jpg


The music is loud and the smoke is like a fog inside the little juke joint my rather large companion leads me to.


In the ten minutes I’ve been with him, I’ve found out that his name is Marv and that besides being nuttier than squirrel turds, he seems to like me.

"So, you’re some kind of masked crime fighter from Central City, huh? Well, don’t that beat all?" He says as I follow him to a booth.

"What’ll it be, Marv?" A waitress with a black eye says as she walks over with her tray.

"Two shots and two-…wait a minute." Marv says, as he gets a good look at the waitress.

"The hell happened to your eye, Shellie?"

"Nothing, hon. I just fell." She says with a bit of sadness in her voice. I pick up on it, but Marv is oblivious.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay then, two shots and two brews for me and my bud. Oh and if you see Dwight, let him know I’m looking for him."

"Sure thing."

Shellie looks at me and smiles.

"What’s with the mask? You a homo?"

She walks off to fetch our drinks; Marv lights up a cigarette and exhales smoke into the already smoky room.

"If there’s one thing I can’t stand its men pasting dames. And speaking of girls." He says as he points his finger towards the stage.

"Nancy is just warming up."

Both our eyes stare at the naked angel on the stage, we watch her every move and salivate with the rest of the drunks in the bar.

Time just falls forward as we stare at the golden haired goddess. We stare for so long, neither one of us hear or see the man standing in front of us.

"Marv." A monotone voice says making both of us jump.

"Dwight! Good to see you, pal." Marv says, as I look his friend over.

He reminds me of myself in many ways, dark hair, and non-distinct features. The only difference is his eyes; he’s got the eyes of a dead man. Creeps me out truth be told.

"Shellie said you wanted to see me?"

"Yeah, this here is my buddy, Mister Blue. He’s from Central City. Chasing a squid or something."

"That’s The Octopus, Marv. He’s a criminal from Central City; he’s here in town trying to make some kind of deal with Boss Wallenquist. I’m trying to figure out what it’s about."

"Wallenquist? The Kraut himself?" He says as he lights up a cigarette.

"What the hell, I don’t have anything better to do tonight. We’ll take my caddy."

"Shotgun."

"So, what’s with the mask?" Dwight says as the three of us leave the smoky saloon behind and head towards his red Cadillac.

"Are you a queer or something?"
 
"We do what we always do", replied Mal.
"Get out'a there as quickly as possible."
"Sounds fun to me. I'm gonna go out on a limb and say you'll be wantin' me to use a sniper rifle to pick off those pesky Alliance troopers before anythin' serious goes down," Jayne said, putting his hands behind his head and yawning. The rest of the crew stared at him.

"What? I can think tactics," he protested.
 
37057843041thespiritsupep4.jpg


Dwight&#8217;s caddy handles smoothly even when he&#8217;s got the pedal pushed to the floor and speeding around blind curves in the middle of the night as the car climbs upward away from the city and towards some gated community this Wallenquist lives in.

"Mommas don&#8217;t let your babies grow up to be cowboys!" Marv croons loudly over the noise of the wind.

"Don&#8217;t let &#8216;em pick guitars and drive them old trucks, let &#8216;em be doctors and lawyers and such! Man, that&#8217;s a classic Waylon and Willy!"

I keep my mouth shut during the ride. Marv and Dwight talk, it&#8217;s mostly Marv doing the talking while Dwight gives the occasional nod and uh-huh.
Thirty minutes later, the red Cadillac comes to a stop in the bushes beside a wall with a massive wall and an armed guard on the other side of the gate.

"Shady Hills." Dwight says as the three of us quietly exit his car.

"It&#8217;s the most secure subdivision in Sin City."

"Sucks we&#8217;re gonna have to blow it a new *******." Marv and Dwight pull out pistols, my eyes go wide and I shake my head.

"Whoa! Hold on a sec. I&#8217;ll use a gun, but I don&#8217;t like to use them. I mean, let&#8217;s try to do this non-lethal. Okay?"

Dwight and Marv trade glances and finally put their weapons up.

"You sure he&#8217;s not gay?"


********​


"So then, Mister Octopus." The large man says across the long table to the figure in the shadows, only Octopus&#8217; purple gloves can be seen.

"You request a business meeting with me. I have honored your request. You have five minutes." Boss Wallenquist says.

"First off, let me say thank you for your time. Secondly, right now you control every vice in Sin City. Gambling, the drug trade, the police are in your pocket. As a like minded associate operating in another market, it makes me jealous. But you don&#8217;t control one vice."

Wallenquist chuckles.

"You speak of the girls of Old Town? It is now very obvious that you&#8217;re from out of town. Old Town is off limits; the women make the rules and enforce them. They&#8217;ll fight to the last one to make sure their ****e&#8217;s paradise stays in their command."

"But what I offer can put an end to that."

"And what is that, Mister Octopus?"

"My organization has developed a powerful mind altering drug that attacks the brain. Just the smallest dose will put a person in a susceptible state. Let me demonstrate."

Octopus snaps his gloved fingers, a skinny young man appears out of nowhere.

"Poor, lost soul. He&#8217;s a deviant of the worse kind. Selling his body for money and drugs. Not speaking a word of English, he believes this will increase his potency."

The Octopus hands the man a small inhaler. He takes a large hit and stares blankly.

<Bark like a dog.>

"WOOF!"

<Hit yourself.>

The young man commences to slap himself hard against the head, blood starts to slowly ooze out of his nose.

<Now jump out the window.>

The man turns to the side and rushes towards a nearby window, he soundlessly breaks the glass and falls five stories to the hard ground below.

Wallenquist only stares at his counterpart

"So, you plan on doping up the ****es and then I force them to work for me? How often will they require a dose?"

"Just once will do it. Unfortunately, the only way it can be taken is through the lungs."

"Just supply me with the drug, I can take care of how it is distrbutied. How long will it take you to make enough of the drug?"

"I have it now in the city, I just require payment."

"Cash or check?"



*************​

"Holy hell." I hear Dwight mumble under his breath as we watch the scene from above.

"They&#8217;re going after those working girls? That&#8217;s not right."

"So, the stories I&#8217;ve heard about Sin City are true?" I whisper to my two allies as we sneak off the roof of Wallenquist&#8217;s mansion.

"Yep. If you got enough cash, you can get anything you want in Old Town.'cept if your're me. The way my mug is, I can't even buy a girl."

"Interesting. And the cops don&#8217;t say anything?"

"For years there&#8217;s been a truce. The cops don&#8217;t crack down on Old Town for a slice of the profits and the occasional freebie, and the girl&#8217;s get to dispense their own brand of justice. If a cop comes into Old Town and isn&#8217;t shopping for what the girls want, they send him packing, but they&#8217;re nicer to the cops&#8230;they leave them alive."

I follow Marv and Dwight over the fence and to Dwight&#8217;s car.

"So, we&#8217;re heading to Old Town?"

"Yes. We&#8217;re going to tell them what Wallenquist and Octopus have planned. Then, we help them get ready."

"For what, Dwight?"

"For war. Marv you drive, I&#8217;m going to call Gail."
 
They were standing on burnt earth, the sun an angry red, high in the sky. All the plants were gone, trees withered husks of their old beauty. They were standing outside the Hyperion, the building crumbled nearly out of recognition. Angel started walking, feeling he was being drawn to something close by.

Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-

"Angel, man, you have to listen to me," Doyle said, walking after him.

"What happened here?" he growled, still walking swiftly.

"The Apocalypse. One you didn't stop," Doyle replied, his eyes dark.

Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-

"Where is everyone?" he asked, anger growing in his voice.

"They're dead. All of them," Doyle whispered. They came upon a clearing where there was no strewn rubble. Instead there were hundreds upon hundreds of graves, spanning out of the line of sight. He walked to the first one and knelt down in front of it.

- Buffy Summers -

He stood up and didn't read any more. He moved onto the next.

- Winifred Wyndam-Price -
Loving Wife and Mother

TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-

"What did this?" he said, his voice low in barely concealed anger.

"You did,"

TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-TICK-

He woke up, his hair a sweaty tangled mass upon his head. He pushed himself off of the bed, grabbed his jacket, and walked downstairs, his pace quickened by guilt and anger. He walked past the others without a word.

"Angel? What's wrong?" Fred asked. Gunn raised his eyebrows.

"You wanna list?" he asked scathingly.
 

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