"
Eric... E-e-eric?.. Wa-a-ake up, Ee-e-eeeeriiiiiiic....", Blade's mother called out to him. But how? was'nt she.. Dead?.., "
Eric, please wake up.. Wake up.. Waaaaake uuuuup..."
"God dammit, Blade wake up!", yelled Whistler, urgently nudging Blade's arm. Blade began to shake awake, staring wearily into the dim lightbulb protruding from the dingy ceiling. He grabbed Whistler by the arm, "Alright, Old Man, I'm up.."
"Well it's about damn time kid.. And that's the reason I'm wakin' ya.. Well sorta..", he gestured to the arm Blade used to grab his own, "You're fully healed.. I was monitoring you condition via the computer over there.. You're still a slight bit bruised but in a few minutes, you'll be ready to go.."
Blade, sat up, letting go of his old mentor and foster dad. A toothy smirk portraying itself over his face, "And what's with the 'sorta'? Something wrong?"
Whistler shrugged than shook his head absently, "Nah.. Just that you were havin' another one of yer wacko nightmares.. Did'nt want you freaking out is all..", Whistler limped over to the wall opposite Blade, "Yer stuff is in here.. I fixed it up for you.. And like I said before you passed out again.. I already fed you yer syrum."
Blade got up and walked over to a mirror, the corners packed with dust, several small cracks all over it. Yeah it was a mess being someone like Blade, but he could manage. He checked his bare upperbody for any scars - none. When he cracked his neck, a violent pop was heard, but it was no big deal. However when he went to crack his knuckles and got to the hand where his broken fingers were he felt a sharp pain. His ring finger was fine, but his pinky still hurt, it was actually kind of swollen, like as if it were infected or something, but no matter.
Blade turned around and leaned against the mirror, "You got my sword?"
"Son.. I've got more swords in here than Napolean had up his ass before he died."
"And my shades?"
"Do you really have to ask?"
"Why not?"
Whistler gestured to the said wall, "You gettin' ready or what?". Blade walked passed Whistler and up to the wall, where he placed his hand on one of the metal tiles - it was checking his fingerprints and it proved positive. The wall slid open like an elevator door, and on the otherside was a neat arrangement of Blade's costumes and weaponry, aswell as a boatload of syringes filled with syrum. Blade walked in and the walls instantley shut behind him.........
A few minutes later they opened up again and Blade was inside, ready to go from head to toe ( hey that rhymes
). He slung a 12-guage shotgun over his right shoulder, two silver stakes placed right under the barrel as replacement shots and/or bayonets, "I'll be seeing you.."
"Ditto.."
Blade walked up to a ladder on the far corner of the underground hideout. He climbed his way up and opened up the trap door at the top, which led to the first floor of a 5 floor parking lot complex. Right there next to his exit awaited his black Ford Mustang. Blade walked up to it and got in, turning the car on and looking around for a moment, the entire parking lot was empty and last he remembered, everything was destroyed, good thing Whistler always had a spare, no matter what it was..
Blade hit the gas and headed out the parking lot's exit, speeding through the dark, empty streets of Manhattan and heading to the SHIELD HQ. Nothing like a keen sense of smell...
Let me know if I went over the boundries....
