| Viewing Single Post From: The Last Evolution | |
|---|---|
| Wirtjr | Dec 19 2008, 06:43 PM |
The Train Conductor to Hell
|
Chapter Four: Unlike the other times, the twisting sensation didn’t go away after one of those oddities happened. His body moved forward on its own accord and knelt in front of the woman. He grabbed her hand and gripped it tightly. She let out a pained howl, and whipped her unharmed hand around in a fist and decked him in the side of the face. It impacted him, and Caleb grunted inwardly, but he didn’t even acknowledge the punch. His grip tightened on the woman’s wounded hand, and the temperature of his palm increased by several dozen degrees. She continued punching him, hoping that he’d let go. But he only let go when the heat from his palm faded away. Once the heat faded back to its normal temperature, he let go and fell back and away from her assault. The twisting sensation vanished, and he was left in control of his body. And because of that, he could feel all of the blows to the head the woman dealt him. Damn she was a strong woman. He was going to have one hell of a headache later. The woman got up off her knees and stared at him. Her gaze turned down to her hand, and her face had a mystified expression on her face. She looked back up at him, and backed a few steps away. Her severally burned hand was no longer burned… All the damage to her hand had vanished like it was just a bad dream. You couldn’t even tell that her hand was burned. The skin tone was the exact same as it would be before it was hurt. It was his turn to be shocked again. How the hell was he doing all of this? Was he able to do this before he woke up in a dumpster without any memory? He tried to create the sensation on his own, hoping he could repair his own shattered memory, but it refused to work for him. He turned to look at the woman’s hand again, but she had run off. His lip curled into a sardonic smile. “You’re welcome!” He yelled. His own voice was still shaken, but it sounded firm enough. It carried a long way. “Freak!” The woman called back. The voice dripped with scorn. And judging from the sound of the voice, she was already a few blocks away. His smile turned sour. That was uncalled for. He fixed her hand, and was called a freak for his troubles. True, he was the one who caused her hand to be seared to the bone in the first place, but that really didn’t matter in the end. Caleb turned to walk away and to go find a place to sleep for the night. But as he did, the five men began to twitch again. Slowly they stumbled drunkenly to their feet. The remaining gray liquid gushed straight out of their noses, and a bit more dribbled out of their ears. The biggest of the thugs cracked his neck, and then in a thick and hollow voice, he said, “Diiiiiie.” Caleb stumbled back in a dead panic. He recognized that voice. He couldn’t place where he had heard it… All his mind would let him know is that it had something to do with him winding up in the bottom of that dumpster. The fact that these guys were dead, yet still moving around didn’t bother him… Well it did, but not as much as the voice did. That voice was what scared the hell him. Caleb stepped back, but found that his back was to the wall. Goddamn it, this would have been a great time for the sensation to come back and do something miraculous. But he felt nothing. The only thing he felt as the corpses advanced on him was the knowledge that he was going to die here. Helen ran away from the alley, and away from the freak. She had no idea how that freak managed to do any of those things. She didn’t know what he did to the thugs that were sent after her. She didn’t know how he made her gun crumble up like burned up coal… And she didn’t know how he fixed her hand. The only thing she knew was that he was one of those anomalies that the tabloids always warned about. Once she was a couple of blocks away, she felt the ground start shaking. Shortly afterwards a voice with more malice than anything she had ever heard uttered a single word so pervasive that she felt it even from where she was standing. “Diiiiiie.” The voice came from the same general area that the freak was standing at before she ran off. She stopped in her tracks, and ran back to where the freak was. Why the hell are you going back to help that freak? She snarled silently. Because, she answered herself, one good turn deserves another. He helped her out, and fixed her hand. She could repay the favor by checking to see if he was alive or dead. And if he turned out to be alive, she’d help him… If he turned out to be dead, she’d go along her merry way. Plus if she helped him out of a potentially fatal situation, she could charge him for it. Just because she was willing to help him, it didn’t mean she would do it for free. She had to make a profit somehow, since that last job went south. She stopped in her tracks again. The freak should be around the next corner. She drew another gun, this one happened to be made of Plexiglas, and took off the safety. She slipped a clip into the gun and cocked it. She took a deep breath to steady her hand, as she exhaled, she ran around the corner with her gun in hand. What she saw was probably the second or third most disturbing thing she had seen today… If not her entire week. Or her entire life. The five goons, who were sent after her and who were subsequently killed by the freak, were standing over the freak and were punching and kicking him to death. Their faces were bloodlessly pale, and their eyes were milky white. And if their collective stench was any indicator, they were quite dead. But then how in the hell were they walking around, let alone beating the shit out of somebody? She didn’t really have time to ponder that. She aimed for the side of the nearest thugs’ head and put two bullets through it. The dead man fell down, but soon enough stood back up. There was a hole blown clean through his head. In fact Helen could see clearly through it. What was really odd was the fact that his skull was completely empty. When the bullets blew out the other side of his head, there was no blood or brain, just shattered bone. Helen decided to try a little lower. She did not care in the slightest if they were dead or not. If they could still stand with broken kneecaps, she’s run away screaming. She trained her gun on the kneecaps. She pulled the trigger and sent a bullet into both of them. She heard the things bone shatter. It tipped back, and then fell over. This time it stayed down. Helen reloaded her gun and aimed at another corpse. Now she knew how to take these bastards down. For some reason the corpses never turned around to deal with her. They just kept wailing away on the freak on the ground. So much the better for her. Helen aimed for the back of their knees and pulled the trigger again. The creature went down without a sound. She repeated the process until each and every one of those thugs was flat on the ground. She bent over the freak to check his pulse. It was still there. So she figured the man was merely unconscious. It wasn’t all that surprising. If she was getting the shit kicked out of her by five goons, she’d be knocked out too. What was surprising was the fact that he survived that much trauma. Helen put the gun back in its holster and made sure the safety was on. She didn’t want to make it this far, and then be accidentally killed by misfire. She swore under her breath when she heard sirens approaching. Damn, this wouldn’t end well if they found her, or the freak, at the scene of this. She hauled him off of the ground, and then lifted him over her shoulder. She broke out into a dead ass run as the sirens got closer. She’d take the freak to her room at the hotel, then wait for him to wake up, force him to pay her, and then kick his ass out. It seemed a solid plan to her. The minute the corpses legs shattered, the man withdrew his mind from them. They were useless to him if they were crippled. He waited for the wench to drag off Darquin before he focused his mind on the ground underneath the corpses and bid it to swallow up the corpses. He left the signs of violence, but he made the bodies vanish. He couldn’t let the police find bodies that had their brains liquefied and their central nervous systems scrambled. He snarled and debated what to do next. He took a chance when he sensed Darquin’s power. He had expected that the mercenary would not return, so he could have dealt with the man when his powers wore out. But to his surprise, the mercenary showed some heart and came back. Chance, it would seem, was not on his side today. The man had always been able to read people like a book. He had sensed that the mercenary didn’t have that much heart in her… But it seemed that a page that was torn out of the book was taped back in at the last moment. The man took a sip from his vodka and tried to calm his mind. Anger was not his ally in this situation. Unlike in the past, he could not trust his rage to fuel his power. He had to use his power tactfully, and with the finesse that Darquin lacked. Unlike the past, where all of his opponents were equal in skill but could not match his rage or power, this man… This child could match his power, but he couldn’t match his skill… He had lifetimes to master his gift, whereas that pup only had his power for little more than four hours. The man calmed himself and took another sip. As the police arrived on the scene to check on reports of gunfire and screams, they would find the scene strangely devoid of bodies. They’d see plenty of blood, but no bodies to go with the blood… In fact, all there was to find at the scene were the same kind of bullet casings that were found in the tomb, and Darquin’s passport. Now with Darquin linked to a second set of crimes, each of them grisly homicides of one degree or another, there was no chance at all that he could be taken seriously even if he managed to translate the book, and give someone his findings. Whoever he gave it to would call the police to arrest him, and simply laugh off the “ridiculous story.” The one thing that was as effective back in the past, and now in the present was something that he had turned into a fine art lifetimes ago. Intrigue. He had toppled as many foes with intrigue as he did through brute force. It was the one tactic that worked just as well as then as it does now… “Christ…” Jacob groaned. He looked at the two paramedics who came with him to the scene. “Get your mops and buckets boys, ‘cause the only thing there is blood. A lot of it.” There were no bodies oddly enough though… There were all the signs that there should be bodies though. Because judging from all the blood, someone or multiple someone’s had to have had bled out. He looked at the two other officers who were arriving on the scene. “You know the drill guys, block off the crime scene. Make sure no one gets in or out of the crime scene. One of them immediately followed his orders. The other one just smirked and leaned against the wall. “That was an order.” Jacob snapped. The officer shrugged, “We ain’t in the Marines,” he snorted. “He’s taking care of it. But this wall isn’t going to get leaned on by itself.” “You’re going to get your pay docked,” he warned him. That just brought an even deeper and more callous smirk to his face, “Well that’s a shame. Your mother is going to lose her best customer. Her rates are so expensive, I can hardly afford her with an undocked paycheck.” “Are you calling my mother a whore?” “Well I can see you didn’t make lieutenant by being dumb.” He said, “And let me add, you’re an inbred hillbilly who looks like a cross between a sheep, and a large piece of elephant shit. I gave your mother syphilis, your Labrador Retriever beat your old man upstairs the night you were conceived and your father spanks it to pictures of his father in his old boy scout uniform.” The lieutenant’s blood began boiling as he crossed the alley and lifted the arrogant bastard up by the neck. He pulled his fist back and slammed it into his face. He felt his hand break and white hot pain shot throughout his body. “What the fuck?” Jacob gasped as he stumbled back. The officer still stood there, but he just casually waved at Jacob as he dissolved into thin air. The only thing left was the brick wall. There was an embarrassed cough. Jacob spun around and saw the police officer he sent to close off the scene. “Sir, was there any reason you were talking to and punching a brick wall?” “Bu-but…” Jacob sputtered, “There was another officer with you. He started insulting me and my family.” “There’s no one else here but me and those two paramedics… And you, sir.” Jacob shook himself, “It’s been a long night.” He said with a shrug, “I guess the lack of sleep is catching up to me.” “If you say so sir…” The man said slowly, “The paramedics found something with the blood. It was a passport. The kicker is whom it belonged to… One Caleb Darquin.” That caught Jacob’s attention, “Isn’t he the suspect for the Delphi massacre?” The officer nodded, “The very same sir. We don’t know if it was his blood left on the scene, or that of someone else. But we know he was connected to it. There was fresh blood all over the passport.” Jacob had all but forgotten the pain in his broken hand. He had trained himself to block out pain on the job. He could still do most of the things he was expected to do with one hand. And now that they found some evidence that tied this Caleb Darquin to not just one, but two crime scenes, he was able to ignore it completely. “Alright, put an ABP out on Darquin. We may be able to set a world record for ‘fastest capture of a mass murderer’.” “On it sir… You should get some ice for that hand, sir.” And with that the police officer sprinted off to the car to radio it in. “You can run, but you obviously can’t hide Darquin…” He murmured. He put the hallucination out of his mind. It had happened to him over the past few days. But like he said, it had been a long night. All of those nights have been long nights. Jason smiled grimly as he walked away from the crime scene. He was happy he made Jacob’s hand bust against the wall. The bastard had tried to arrest him three days ago. But with some quick thinking, he took the ‘appearance’ of a new police officer. It wasn’t the perfect illusion by any means. All he did was make people think he was so natural looking, people wouldn’t question the reasons he was there. But sooner or later one of the police officers would remember that they haven’t recruited any new police officers in over seven years. But Jason planned on being long gone by then. All he had to do was raid the police station and steal everything not nailed to the ground. But until then, he simply did what seemed natural. He helped with the crime scenes, he followed orders, and he stayed away from people as much as he could. The less time he was with people, the slower it would take for them to see through the ruse he put in place. But it didn’t stop him from fucking with Jacob’s head. For he past few days, he had been making him see things. Last night he had him beating up a vending machine, because Jason made it look like it was a nudist thumbing his nose at him, and insulting his penis size. Needless to say, Jacob was a cop with a very short temper. He had been on the force for over twenty years, and his temper got shorter by the year. He didn’t take well to being baulked, and he just hated to be insulted… So Jason went for a combination of the two. Being baulked at, and insulted at the same time. He continued musing what he’d do to Jacob later as he called the APB. This was all the better for him. The more police out in force meant there would not be as many of them at the station when he stole everything in it. Oh life was great. He didn’t understand why people with gifts like these hated their lives. If he didn’t have this ability, he’d probably be doing something legitimate. Such as selling weapons to war criminals. Or shooting war criminals… Or something that had something to do with weapons. “Attention all available units! We have a lead on Caleb Darquin. He is in the company of a woman who is on the top ten of the worlds most wanted list. Units request immediate backup. I repeat, immediate backup!” Jason sighed, damn that didn’t take them that long to find him. He wasn’t going to have as much time to rob the police station. “Jacob!” He shouted, “Someone’s found Darquin. They’re requesting backup.” The lieutenant came running back to the squad car. “Already?” Jason nodded, “Yeah. Apparently he’s hanging around with a killer. Some woman who’s one of the most wanted fugitives in the world.” Jacob’s went as wide as dinner plates. “Darquin and Helen DeGradi? This is going to be a great night for us. Let’s get a move on.” The illusionist nodded. “Alright. Let’s get rolling.” They hopped into the squad car, and drove off into the night. With sirens screeching, and lights flashing they headed off to capture a pair of killers… Well Jacob wanted that. All Jason wanted was to steal the valuables on the crime scene. It was a great way to make a living. |
 Formerly Wirtjr, Denny Crane, Freddy Krueger, Rodney McKay, Bruce Campbell and Ash Williams
Brawl Code: 2793-4775-6845 | |
 |
|
| The Last Evolution · Fan Fiction | |
- Fire Emblem Fusion
- →
- The Art Corner
- →
- Fan Fiction
- →
- Viewing Single Post From: The Last Evolution
| Theme: Fire Emblem Fusion - Green |
 1:42 AM Nov 26
|
| Affiliates |
|
| Topsites |
|
| Fire Emblem Fusion Skin, © Cubic and SwordsAreShiney. |
Hosted for free by ZetaBoards
