Viewing Single Post From: FEFF League

Viewing Single Post From: FEFF League
Wirtjr	Feb 7 2009, 09:19 PM
The Train Conductor to Hell Posts: 4,664 Group: Judge Member #1,057 Joined: January 12, 2007	Science and Faith. Technology and magic. These two forces oppose each other at every turn. Yet both must exist in order for the world to survive. It is not meant to be taken in a dramatic sense. It doesn’t mean that if one vanishes the world vanishes with it. No, but when the world is in the most danger magic and technology must work together in order to preserve the earth and make sure that it continues to exist. -Author Unknown Chapter One: Deadites… I go to London for a little piece and quiet from this Chosen One business and I get jumped by a bunch of Deadite soccer hooligans. Just my luck… Ash silently snarled as he revved up his chainsaw. There were five of them in the alleyway. Three male, two female. Unlike the usual bunch of Deadite trash he attracted they were completely silent. They moved slowly and without the little dramatic flairs that Ash had become accustom to. “You know they always say to keep your work life and personal life separate!” He shouted grouchily. He slashed through the first Deadite to get close to him. “But you bastards make it pretty goddamn difficult!” The first Deadite went down without a twitch. Its head went bouncing off the wall right over his head. But shockingly enough the Deadite stood back up and drove its fist right into his stomach. Ash doubled over and gasped for air. What the hell? Ash groaned. They’re supposed to stop animating the bodies when the head is gone! And why aren’t they talking? They usually scream about swallowing my soul or how much they hate the Chosen One… Something is extremely wrong here. The wheels turned quickly in Ash’s head and he brought the chainsaw upwards and between the Deadite’s legs. With a powerful upward slash Ash slashed the Deadite right up the middle and let it fall apart. The Deadite still was twitching, but it sure as hell wasn’t going to do any harm in its current state. Ash turned his attention to the other four. “You want me to do the same thing to you that I just did to this bitch?” He snarled at them. “I’m feeling generous today guys! You can stumble on off and go find some cabin full of people to torment. I just want to have a relaxing day.” He unfastened his shotgun from his shoulder strap and leveled it at the demons. “Or,” he continued, “I can get to work on my new idea for anger management. I like to call it ‘Shotgun Splatter Art.’ It’s your move.” The Deadites stood in front of him in silence for a moment. Then one of the Deadites took one step forward and opened its mouth. The voice was not his own… Didn’t belong to a Deadite either. It sounded… human. Yet the voice dripped with so much poisonous contempt and hatred that it couldn’t be considered human anymore. “No…” The thing groaned. “You are muggle… Yet you have an air about you… You cannot survive.” “Muggle?” Ash asked confused. “Is that some kind of STD or something? I think I tested negative for that…” He cocked his shotgun and kept it trained on the thing’s head. “But I’m not liking the sound of this…” He pulled the trigger and turned the zombie’s head into a mess against the alley wall. Then he quickly pointed the shotgun at its knees and shot them as well. Ash turned his sights onto the next zombie. “How about you? Care to give me an answer that doesn’t piss me off? Let me give you a hint as to what answers don’t piss me off. It starts with a Y, and it rhymes with less.” “Die.” It snarled, and the three zombies stalked towards him. “Well I guess you can’t teach old zombies new tricks,” Ash sighed. He blasted it in the head and knees just like the last one. Unfortunately the other two were much to close for shotgun use. And he didn’t have enough room to swing his chainsaw anymore. He dropped it and clenched his fists. Luckily his mechanical one was still working fine. But as Ash drew his fist back for a punch, there was a flash of light, followed by the sudden intense smell of gasoline that filled the air and suddenly the two female zombies burst into flames. Ash looked to see what the hell just happened and he saw a very tall and well-built man leaning against a dumpster. The man wore a pair of darkly tinted sunglasses, and he wore a self-amused smirk on his face. He was carrying a very compact flamethrower...A kind Ash had never seen before. “You must be Ash,” the man said to him quietly. “I’ve been looking for you for awhile now.” Ash leveled the shotgun at the man’s head. “Forgive my rudeness, but considering these five were looking for me as well, I’d prefer to be on the cautious side. Drop the weapon and put your hands where I can see them.” “Fire away,” the man said in a bored tone. “And then when you’re out of ammo I’ll hope you’re ready to talk.” The Chosen One shrugged for a moment. “Well I can’t really pass up an offer like that.” Ash pulled the trigger and his boomstick roared. The shell punched through the man’s head with a ripple and went through into the dumpster behind him. Ash saw a brief glimmer of something silver and then the hole in the man’s head sealed shut. The man continued to look at Ash with an unfeeling gaze. “Are you done yet?” Ash pulled the trigger again. This time he hit the man’s chest. It had the same result! There was just a small ripple and the shotgun shell broke through the dumpster. The wound sealed shut almost immediately. The man crossed his arms impatiently and continued looking at him. Ash pulled the trigger five more times, and each time he got the same result. He was about to fire it again when the man held up his hand. “Can I ask you a question?” “Make it quick.” “How is it you can fire off shotgun shell after shotgun shell without ever having to reload?” Ash just shrugged. “It’s a perk of my job I guess.” He never really wondered about it. “Want to see how long I can keep this up? My highest record is for sixty-seven consecutive bullets. Want to see if I can make it to sixty-eight?” “Sent forgot this little detail…” The man sighed. “No, this meeting will take long enough as is, we don’t need your trigger finger to extend it at all.” He started towards Ash with his hand raised outwards. Ash let out another shot, but it didn’t so much as make the man pause. He just kept coming towards him. Ash attempted to pull the trigger again, but the man grabbed the shotgun and bent it downwards. “Enough of that.” The man places his hand on Ash’s shoulder and put enough pressure to make it impossible to escape, yet not hurt. “Alright, I’ve got him.” The man spoke into the thin air. Before Ash could ask whom the hell he was talking to, a bright blue light enveloped them both. In the blink of an eye they went from standing in some alley to some swanky hotel suite. The man let go of Ash and he stumbled back. “W-what the hell just happened?” He asked sharply. “And don’t lie to me. Just because a shotgun shell doesn’t work on your creepy ass doesn’t mean I can’t chainsaw you to hell and back!” The man was about to open his mouth to answer, but then a man’s voice boomed through the room, “That’s enough Soja! Leave us for now; I would like to talk with our guest for a moment… Alone.” The man, or rather Soja, turned to where the voice came from. “Alright.” He looked one more time at Ash, “Sorry about the shotgun, but I was getting tired of the bullets.” Without another word Soja walked off into another room. Right as he left, another man walked in. He was a bit shorter than Soja was, lighter of skin, hair, and build. He also had a haircut that made Ash think of a penis. “My name is Sent,” the penile-like man said with a deep rumbling voice. “The one who brought you here goes by the name of Soja.” “What is he?” Ash growled. “And why am I here?” “Soja is what we in the know call a Terminator…” The man said idly, “He’s the newest model. Made from nanite technology, he’s almost impervious to harm.” “And why am I here?” Ash repeated angrily. “I’m here to offer you the chance to join something greater than yourself and to help save the world from a war that threatens to rip our entire world, and worlds beyond, apart. We need your help, Chosen One.” Ash clenched his fists, “I don’t want any part of this bullshit. I’m done with all of this saving the world crap. I just want to live my life.” “If you do not help us Ash, your life will be remarkably short.” Ash lifted the man up by his throat and applied a tiny bit of pressure. “Is that a threat? Because if it is, I’ll toss you down to Hell as I take the stairway to Heaven.” “N-not a threat,” Sent gasped. “The world is going to be fed to the flames in a matter of weeks if you do not help.” “Why do you need my help?” Ash grumbled. He put the man down and let loose of his throat. “The League is being reformed. They need a new leader.” Sent said softly as he rubbed his throat with a wince. “What the hell are you talking about? What League?” Sent let out a quiet laugh, “I'm talking about The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. We want you to lead them.”
	Formerly Wirtjr, Denny Crane, Freddy Krueger, Rodney McKay, Bruce Campbell and Ash Williams Zoe Wirtjr, Be all My Sins Remember'd says: (7:48:27 PM) Pops his bones Zoë says: (7:48:54 PM) which boners and why Zoë says: (7:48:57 PM) WHOOPS Zoë says: (7:49:03 PM) omg >_>; Brawl Code: 2793-4775-6845

FEFF League · Fan Fiction