|
spider,
22:50:37 03/09/02 Tue
"It
was a distant jarring that awoke him first, one of those moments where
you're caught in between sleeping and waking. The kind where you wake
up with the phone already in your hand...to find your lips moving before
your mind has told it what's going on. One of those moments which only
happens when someone important phones......"
------------------------------------------------------------------------
bob,
16:59:01 13/09/02 Fri
but it wasn't the phone. The persistant banging which accompanied the
melodic clangs could only mean....
Visitors!
already? at this time of the morning? what are these people? do they not
have a life to live, somewhere other than on his doorstep at the ridiculous
time of 5 : 31 am....
Ah...but that blinking array of digits and the daylight streaming through
the chink in the curtains meant the clock must have stopped again. power
cut? divine intervention? who cares, the fact of the matter was that someone
was banging loudly on his door and he hadn't a clue what time it was,
and only a vague idea of where and who he was...
Should he just hide under the covers? pretend to be out?
as he was pondering that situation the banging ceased, and an eerie, metalic
scraping commenced.....
------------------------------------------------------------------------
maniac,
22:05:06 13/09/02 Fri
the sound made his eyeballs itch, but was familiar. horribly familiar.
shit! he'd left the auto-alarm on. too late. whoever had been at the door
would now be protein paste, minced by rotating metal blades.
the thought of yet another fine for keeping the alarm activated during
daylight hours brought him to his senses. now he remembered who he was.
where he was.
and why he'd set the alarm the night before.
in one horrible moment, the events of that previous night came flooding
back into conscious reality.......
------------------------------------------------------------------------
chooey,
19:06:09 21/09/02 Sat
seeing the gang at the top of his street had unseteled him. Paranoia had
creped in to his mind. "there talking about how to do away with you"
the paranoid voice had whispered in his mind. He walked quickly back to
his appartment closed the door behind him and set the auto-alarm. maybe
he had got one of them, what a trully invigorating feelin that would be.
He knew that if it was a gang member he had vaporised the payback would
be high......
------------------------------------------------------------------------
spider,
14:54:42 23/09/02 Mon
but the stray yellow ribbon stuck to the sole of his shoe said something
different...
"you didn't want to do that..."
"shut up - inanimate objects should only speak when spoken to"
"yeah yeah, seen, not heard...blah blah blah blah"
"SHUT UP" this was all to much - any other day...but no, today
of all days.
He pulled aside the black film across the window, just enough to see out
without being seen - the street was empty. But he was sure he'd seen.."no,
I'll wake up in minute and this will all be just a stupid cheese dream"
"you reckon"
"shut up! and where the hell did you come from? what are you doing
on my shoe, and why are you speaking to me?!"
"you don't remember me?"
" what...the...why am I speaking to you - what do you want? this
is ridiculous"
------------------------------------------------------------------------
fwl,
14:58:56 24/09/02 Tue
it was all too much. ignoring the racket inside his [very delicate] skull,
he grabbed his jacket and his trusty .76 [a cannon which fired out fist-sized
chunks of lead to tear apart any of the street punks who regularly targeted
his block] and headed out the back door. it was actually an unused maintenance
outlet, from there he could make it the sixty floors down to the street
- the real street, ground level, not any of the fancy chrome walks up
at six or 14 [office-staff parade, full of suits] or the secure zones
in the upper eighties [mere mortals weren't to be found there].
ground level was pretty much home to the rats - human and otherwise -
but at least he wouldn't be spotted by the enforcer drones. and after
last night, he really didn't want to be spotted.
after all, technically, it had been murder.......
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Snuffleupuguss,
20:29:37 29/09/02 Sun
'Yes, technically it was.' said the bit of yellow ribbon.
'Mmmm technically...hang on, you read my mind now? It's a very ungentlemanly
thing to read someones mind without permission.'
'I'm not a gentleman, I'm a ribbon.' Replied the ribbon.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ben,
12:42:44 01/10/02 Tue
and with that he stopped abruptly and turned sharply into a small, tatty,
run down shop. "The usual Sam" he murmered. Sam obeyed, he reached
behind him and brought out a packet of McCough Cigars. "I owe you"
he said to Sam. This remark started Sam up to one of his usual speeches.
"Why if I had a 1000 krupicles for everytime you...". "Yeah,
yeah, shut up Sam. I told you I'd pay you, just only when I get the cash".
Sam shrugged and walked into the back room. Followed by the ribbon as
they conversed about the local Olympigs (woops, what a typo! lol) team.
Back on the street, he already had his cigar smouldering and now he was
free of the ribbon, he stepped into the alleyways and polished his .72
with his sleeve. He hid it behind his ripped loose shirt. As he walked
along, the alley, smelling of smoke and sweat, striding like an american
police officer who had just pulled up someone speeding (what a simile!).
The air was thick with the stench of the city above, pollutants that were
pumped to the levels below. He turned the corner and soon a trail of heavy
smoke from the cigars trailed behind him as suddenly he turned a corner
and instantly dissapeared behind it again. As he hid behind a pile of
supply crates he peered between a couple of the and it became instantly
obvious why he had hidden, there, standing just infront of him was...
------------------------------------------------------------------------
fwl,
22:13:01 01/10/02 Tue
standing just in front of him was Arnold Schwarzenegger. not the original,
of course, he'd been dead three centuries and more. no, this was much
worse - and was the reason behind the events of the night before.
his mind raced through the re-emerging memory strains from the evening
- stumbling into an alley much like this one, a quartet of sinister figures,
and the Schwarzenegger clone. any other man would have kept on walking,
but at a much swifter pace. but any other man wouldn't have been Cyrus
Blaze [deep-cover agent for Megapolis security, part-time mercenary] ~
and any other man wouldn't have recognised the situation for all that
it was.
in an instant his gaze took in the shadowy figures for black-market militants
[a growing group dedicated to overtaking the city], and realised that
the Schwarzenegger clone [dead-eyed, susceptible to full control] was
nothing less than a deadly weapon.
the situation was bad enough [three armed militants, one primed clone
stronger than five normal men], but then three more figures stepped out
of the shadows, and Blaze realised that this was much bigger than anything
he'd ever encountered......
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chooey,
21:08:09 07/10/02 Mon
One of the three men was instantly recognisable as Lonnie Jerome the TV.
quiz show host, his double row of teeth gleaming in the unsettling green
glow of the lower level street lamps. Cyrus knew that good old Lonnie
had dealings inside the Nosfer Alberto Syndicate and Post Plant Biotics
Ltd. Why was he meeting with black-market militants, and why had they
not killed the slimy eel.
Cyrus adjusted his eyes and focused on the second of the shadowy figures.
Suddenly the woman with long dark hair down to her lower leg turned, looked
in the direction of Cyrus and gestured the militants toward him. Running
at what seemed to be light speed the militants were on his heels before
he could even pick up speed his legs struggling to carry him at any faster
than a drunken trot. If they caught him they would undoubtedly strip him
and find his ident tattoo hidden on the back of his left ear lobe. Why
had he not brought out his 72.
The chase was on!...
------------------------------------------------------------------------
fwl,
16:21:42 12/10/02 Sat
unfortunately [for those chasing him] he realised fairly quickly that
he HAD brought his .76 - he stopped, turned swiftly on the legendary dime
and let rip with chunks of soft metal which tore into the low-life scum
behind. a few rounds no doubt pummelled through the thin brick walls [lower
floors, suprisingly bad quality materials!], taking out the inhabitants,
but a piece like that was hard to control in such close quarters.
with the thunderous echoes fading to a low rumble, he surveyed the damage.
it would have been hard to count the bodies even if he'd wanted to - the
.76 was a true maneater - but at least he had no doubts that all who had
followed were dead.
shit. there was no doubt that the rest of them would know who had done
this. it would only be a matter of time..........
now back in the present, and there in front of him was the schwarzenegger
clone - or one of them at least. Blaze was about to retreat when the clone
signalled to him.
"don't run. i need your help."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
maniac,
10:43:49 17/10/02 Thu
meanwhile, across town, in the smoky backrooms of the Porn-O-Matic, the
Louis Brothers [Hewey, Dewey and Chewey] were planning their next heist.
"okay," said Hewey, "so we takes out the back door to Goldie's
diamond merchants in Silver Street, heads up to the second floor - waddawe
do then, Dewey?"
"then we rigs up da scaffldin' in the middle of da ruby room, dat
one where Ruby Max stayed."
"Dat's WAX ya dumass!" replied Hewey. "Den Chewey - wadda
you do?"
"Well," said Chewey [killer's eyes hidden behind mirror shades,
metallic turquoise hair reaching all the way down to his ammo hip-belt]
"den i rig up da bomb-bag, set da timer for ten seconds and we all
git outta there"
"Good. Den we're ready. But dis time, keep a lookout for dat damn
Cyrus Blaze!" and with that, the deadly trio set off for Goldie's...................
------------------------------------------------------------------------
fwl,
12:09:32 01/11/02 Fri
Blaze
sat with the Schwartzenegger clone in a smoky, dimly-lit bar in Smacktown
- a rough area in a rougher zone, filled with beggars, mercenaries and
diamond dealers. the bright neon window ads flashed out "Goldie's"
just above the bar, as Blaze and the clone spoke in hushed whispers.
"so, how can i help?" asked Blaze, eyes darting around the haze-filled
bar - always on the lookout for trouble.
the clone hesitated, then whispered "i need help to free my brothers"
"your brothers"
"slaves"
"slaves?"
"have you ever heard of Xenofobe Industries?" asked the clone.
"the arms dealers?"
"that's right. only it's not just guns and missiles they deal in
any more"
"are they into chemical stockpiles. because -"
"no, no. all that stuff was handed to government departments months
ago. besides, anyone whose anyone doesn't really worry about NBC attacks
now - they've all got bunkers, and been immunised against the worst agents.
no, it's much bigger than that"
"so tell me"
"okay, i'm going to have to trust you with a secret that could get
us both killed."
"you can trust me"
"Xenophobe Industries has amassed a stockpile of over a million -"
the shot came quickly, silently. before the last word had finished echoing
in Blaze's ears the clone was dead, face first on the table.
Blaze jumped up, turned around, .76 ready to blast the gunman. instead
of a hard-faced state-paid killer he saw............
------------------------------------------------------------------------
choo,
17:51:19 04/11/02 Mon
Himself.
Cyrus blinked and then blinked again. “What the hell is going on
here” Cyruss 2 said in a slightly slurred voice.
“Surly that is the question I should be asking you” answered
Cyruss.
“Well go ahead ask yourself the question and then we can both listen
to the response”
“I should shoot you down now, not just for committing illegal clone
shutdown but impersonating the greatest living deep-cover agent for Megapolis
security.”
“Don't shoot yourself in the foot now!” Cyruss 2 laughed. “You
like it? Shoot yourself in the foot, tee hee hee. I’m so god damn
funny”
“Funny? Let’s see if you find this funny”
And with that Cyruss squeezed the trigger of his 76 and Cyruss 2 lay in
a puddle of his own filth. “I’m so god damn funny” Cyruss
whispered.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
maniac,
11:23:14 05/11/02 Tue
so. okay. why did he - or rather, his clone - shoot the schwartzenegger
clone? and what did it have to do with Xenofobe industries? they've stockpiled
a million - what?
Blaze walked quickly from the bar, aware that a crowd was gathering. as
he passed the six-inch-thick steel doors he slammed into someone coming
the other way - someone who seemed strangely familiar, with long, turquoise
hair reaching down to an ammo hip-belt.
it took a few seconds for the details to sink in, and the figure had already
vanished around the back of the bar when Blaze remembered - Chewey! That
S.O.B.! the youngest of the Louis brothers, he was supposed to be doing
six hundred years in New Sing Sing. Blaze himself had arrested the brothers
three years ago for plutonium smuggling, murder, and three unpaid parking
tickets. the fact that he showed up now, with the clone killings, and
all that had gone on during the last 24 hours, was no coincidence. he
had to be involved. him and his damn brothers.
Cyrus Blaze pulled out his .76, and headed back towards Goldie's - with
killing on his mind........
------------------------------------------------------------------------
maniac,
12:02:03 27/11/02 Wed
Chewey, on the other hand, had seen Blaze from across the bar, and it
had been all he could do not to start blasting away with his Atomizer
505 - the deadliest pulse-pistol available for cash. it would have torn
chunks out of the air at the atomic level - pieces of people, and that
damned Cyrus Blaze, would have soaked into the walls of the Die-O-Rama
[the suicide assist centre] five blocks across.
but Chewey kept his cool. after all, he didn't want to bring too much
attention to himself. not tonight. not when he had a mission to accomplish.
and not when he had a 6-meg plutonium grenade in his hip pocket.....
------------------------------------------------------------------------
choo,
13:35:07 01/12/02 Sun
Cyruss headed up the filth ridden streets at a fast pace wanting to get
to the Louis bothers before they created some mayhem, they were bound
to have some crazy plan. Probably involving the giant diamond display
at Goldies.
Cyruss knew how much Hewey and his brothers loved diamonds they had tried
a heist like this before but got sniffed out by enforcer drones. The Louis
brothers were the most unorganised crime team this side of Dukesville.
When Cyruss reached Goldies he found everything to be normal apart from
the owner trying to throw out a tramp. Cyruss grabbed the tramp by the
shoulders picked up clear of the floor and threw him aside.
“Thanks” said the owner. “He's been in here about 30 nightomitors
without any intension of buying anything.”
“It’s not a problem.” Replied Cyruss. At that he flashed
his badge towards the small balding man.
“What have I done? All my merchandise is legal you know”
“Yeah im sure it is, but that aint why im here. I have reason to
believe that some infamous criminals are planning to walk away with some
or all of your stock.”
“I don't think you need worry, my alarms are all top of the range”
“OK, if you say so. If its good with you ill be back before u close
so I can keep an eye on things, just gona put my ear to the ground for
some more info.”
“That's not a problem.” Said the owner
With that Cyruss smiled, turned and headed towards the porn-o-matic. If
the Louis brothers were in town that is where they are gona be.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
maniac,
23:53:56 02/12/02 Mon
report log 30055786 : suspects approaching predicted positions...suspect
'A' approaching designated drop zone...suspects 'B', 'C' and 'D' primed
for immediate collection...all units on alert....suspects 'A' and 'B'
to be taken alive...all attendent witnesses to be made safe with terminal
effect....severe collateral damage acceptable...await final order...
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Choo,
18:51:52 06/12/02 Fri
The enforcer drones were the first to receive this alert. This was due
to the infamous faster than light speed drive assembled in their
Black chrome, mushroom-like casings.
Quickly drawing together as close as over cooked grains of rice the drones
sped towards one end of Silver Street. Closing in on their suspects.
A B and C were just inside the back window of Goldies, whilst D, Cyruss
Blaze hid in a dimly lit corner of the main diamond room waiting for his
three unsuspecting clowns of criminals. At least he hoped the war zone
he had left at the Porn-omatic had forced the correct details out of the
owner. Who happened to always have his ear to the ground, (more like micro
mics in every room, tapping in to all conversations in his seedy establishment.)
The day’s happenings huddled around in his head like a mini tornado
of souls, but still he waited like a big cat on full alert ready to pounce....
------------------------------------------------------------------------
maniac,
20:09:23 08/12/02 Sun
the
attack came from behind, a blinding flash of light followed by the deafening
roar of a vintage semtex explosion. pulse grenades had nothing on pure,
old-fashioned plastic explosive [just like grand-daddy used to use]. the
walls erupted inwards, smashing enforcer drones into scraps of metal within
a millisecond, crashing through the weak flesh of the party-goers in the
outer rooms, a massive wave of destruction ripping through the building
in a bloody, final heartbeat.
Hewey and Dewey turned to see a wall of stone rush towards them. in a
swift moment they were paste, crushed between advancing waves of rock.
then, even before the roar of the massive explosion had faded, the regular
stomp of jackboots could be heard moving through the wreckage. black-suited,
armoured ninjas homed in on the vague, failing life-signs of two bodies.
the unstoppable force of the Black Army made their way to the mangled
remains of Cyrus Blaze and an almost-dead Chewey. with the efficiency
of the most highly-trained army in the Federation - genetically-engineered
killers, trained from birth - they bagged up the two barely-living men,
and made their way to waiting transporters.
as swiftly as they arrived, the B.A. were gone with their prisoners. all
that was left was the smoking wreckage of Goldies, sparkling with the
debris of diamonds left behind.
through the dark night the sleek transporters moved like ghosts, and Cyrus
and Chewey were gone.....
------------------------------------------------------------------------
choo,
19:01:56 13/12/02 Fri
"It
was a distant jarring that awoke him first, one of those moments where
you're caught in between sleeping and waking. The kind where you wake
up with the phone already in your hand...to find your lips moving before
your mind has told it what's going on. One of those moments which only
happens when someone important phones, but it wasn't the phone. The persistent
banging which accompanied the melodic clangs could only mean....
Visitors!
“Yes Cyruss you do have visitors, or should I say a visitor? Well
really I’m not a visitor at all how could I be? I’m in my own
ship. So... that makes you the visitor and me the, urghhh... ummmmm, oh
damn! Blast this infernal do wop wopping in my head! As I was saying that
makes me the.”
A loud speaker crackled into life, and boomed out across the whole of
the ship. “ The worlds undisputed heavy weight champion of the world
George the madness black dog!”
“ No that is not what I was going to say. I was going to say... What
was I going to say, before I moved on to tomorrow... The art of moving
is often seen as a faster motion than finishing the day off. Seen though
the eyes of a Greater spotted blog swallow. You could say this was all
that could be said for what we were saying. Is this making any understandable
reference to the other lost city of Natacraca my sweet army?”
Cyruss hung listening to this guy, unable to move for the pain searching
through his body, hitting every vein and muscle. There was total silence
for a moment then the huge dark figure in front of him began again.
“Good I’m glad it makes understandable logic, other wise I would
have to dismiss u as my army and I don’t much like doing that. After
all you, you have been with me as my army now for a good fifteen tricycles.
I’m getting off the point here but, but as I was saying. It is not
for, for us to judge, who is the greater, manhole cover.”
The speech ended with the madman, (who Cyruss would later know as Jaider)
cursing himself under his breath...
------------------------------------------------------------------------
maniac,
20:40:42 21/12/02 Sat
...cold
water splashed against his face woke Cyrus from the vivid nightmare. he
tried to open his eyes, and the pain searing through the bruised slits
made the memories slam back into his head. they had taken him. there WAS
a madman, he remembered now. asking questions, beating him. and there
had been another. who was it?
Chewey. my god, the things they'd done to him. Cyrus doubted pretty much
that the man was alive. could he have taken so much pain and lived?
Cyrus flexed against the pain, and the agony of open sores reminded him
that he was manacled to the walls of this dark, eternal dungeon. hands
and feet bound until they bled, blood running down his body to splash
on the cold stone floor two feet beneath him, where it was licked up by
the blind, manic rats which dwelled in this hell.
what questions were they asking him? he couldn't remember. something about
the Schwartzenegger clone....some kind of clone war was beginning, and
somebody seemed to think that he - Cyrus - had the answers. and Chewey
too, no doubt.
as the though ran across his bruised mind, the huge metal door at the
far end of the dimly-lit dungeon swung open with an ageless creaking.
in came three figures. two guards and a slab of meat with limbs. as the
guards dragged their prisoner closer, as they raised his swolen, battered
body to the other set of manacles Cyrus saw who it was. it was Chewey.
or what was left of him. his flesh torn, burned; bone showing through
the skin of his upper left arm; his turquiose locks ripped from his scalp.
the guards left in silence. the dungeon was theirs. all Cyrus could hear
was the faint rasp of Chewey's laboured breathing. it looked as if he'd
been tortured to death and beyond. whatever information they wanted, they
wanted it bad.
and he knew that next time it would be his turn.......
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Choo,
18:53:46 23/12/02 Mon
Cyruss
turned his head as much as he could bare, and spoke in a whisper. “Chewey
can you hear me?... Can you even talk?... What the hell have they done
to you? We have gota get out of here.
“uurghhh naght danbff jaiderrrggghhh.” A rasped breath followed
and then the disfigured Chewey continued.
“ Ryhy dose hef fink thatph ey knowgh enifinkph aboutgh a cloneth
warth”
“ Hang on, dont talk any more i can’t understand anything your
saying. Rest for a while try and get some sleep if you can. We can talk
later when you make more sense “
The cold dark dungeon went silent except for the dripping of fluid on
the stone floor...
------------------------------------------------------------------------
choo,
16:03:36 05/01/03 Sun
Cyruss
awoke as the cell door whooshed open. Standing in the doorway were two
guards.
“Your turn I believe Mr Blaze” One of them said as the other
just smiled the rest of his face covered by his metallic black helmet.
The two guards entered the cell and unlocked the shackeles holding Cyruss
to the cold wet wall. Grabbed him by the shoulders and led him out of
the cell.
The light outside the cell was almost blinding, forcing Cyruss to look
down away from the lights. It felt like three in the morning, but god
knows what time it was. All sense of time had left his body and mind.
Cyriss walked for what felt like an eternity his legs almost giving up
on him. The guards unlocked a door and sat Cyruss in a Steel chair to
which he was locked in.
“Hello Cyruss how are we doing this fine afternoon” Jaider said
in almost a pleasant way.
“ Now look” said Cyruss in as much of an asserting manner as
he could muster, “ I don't know anything about any clone wars and
as for the Schwartzenegger clone I spoke with him for hardly any time
at all, before a clone of myself shot him in the head.” A small moment
of silence passed. “ What more do you want from me.”
“ The truth is all I ask for and you believe your telling me that
but my friend he tells me different.
One of the guards walked in front of Cyruss and lifted his helmet as he
did so long turquoise hair rippled down his back.
“ Chewey my god.... What's going on here?” Demanded Cyruss.
“ You are hanging in the cell beaten and buzzed.” ...
------------------------------------------------------------------------
maniac,
12:07:01 07/01/03 Tue
"Think
again." snarled Chewey.
The answer was obvious. "It was a clone?" Jaider and Chewey
laughed like hyenas. "Of course it was a clone," shrieked Jaider,
"do you really think I would torture my brother - unless I had good
reason?"
"Your brother?"
Chewey moved his face closer to that of Cyrus and smiled. "Jaider
is our mother's firstborn. and you....you have killed two of our brothers.
What do you think is going to happen to you now?"
Cyrus stammered back "Your older brother? Are you telling me that
Jaider is the one known as the Black Assassin?"
Jaider looked suprised, but also proud. "So, you know about my day
job?" and he laughed, manically. "Yes, I am the Black Assassin.
The greatest of world leaders have died at my hand. Many more will soon
be crushed. You should feel honoured to be slain by one such as me."
"Yes," grinned Chewey, "honoured!" and he too laughed
like a dingo on speed.
"Well, in that case" said Cyrus, "I have only one thing
to say."
"And what's that?" asked the brothers, in unison.
"Black Dog Down! Black Dog Down!"
There was thick silence in the small room for a few long seconds. Then
the door erupted inwards, blown off its hinges with such force that it
was buried in the opposite wall. Suddenly the room was full of armed State
Protection Officers, who beat Chewey and Jaider down to the floor while
one of them unlocked Cyrus.
Cyrus stood up, thankful that the SPO's had acted quicly. If they'd been
a few seconds later then his captors would have killed him, realising
that he was wearing a Trans-Loc device. But it was all over now.
"Did you really think I would let you take me so easily?" he
asked the two now-captives. "As soon as I realised that Chewey was
involved in this, I realised the Black Assassin must be in the picture.
We've known about you for months."
"You bastard," spat Jaider. "You'll never get away with
this."
"Oh, I will." replied Cyrus. "And guess who will be interrogating
you?". And, with a happy laugh, Cyrus led the way. And he, Jaider,
a semi-conscious Chewey and several hundred SPO's made their way out into
the smog, and across town to the Dungeons of Justice.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
choo,
22:38:31 07/01/03 Tue
The
wind was howling down Lamont Street and rats were starting to rise from
their sleep.
“ What a god awful night!” Said the leading SPO to the man who
would almost go down in history as ‘that guy who fooled and captured
the Black Assassin’. “ Yeah you’re so right, but no bad
weather could spoil my treat of the century.” Cyruss was grinning
like a Hippie in a pool of LSD.
“ Ive never liked the walk down this street.” Replied the SPO.
“ Dont be so daft everything is cool.”
“ I wish I were as certain as you. The thing is as Im sure you havent
forgotten weve got the world most wanted man walking behind us.”
“ Look its cool. How the hell do you think hes going to do anything
with three hundred volts searing though his body every half a second?”
“Ive often wondered what it must feel like to die then get brought
back to life so quickly. Those elctro-cages really are some cool piece
of design”
“ Its taken years of redesign to get them to work, without killing
the captive. The men Ive seen die in these things I couldnt count on fifteen
peoples fingers!”
The remainder of the walk to the Dungeons of justice passed without any
problem or sound, except for the hum of the electro-cage. As the group
entered the titanium lined door of the dungeons Cyruss faced Jaiders cadge
and whispered quietly” Im really gona enjoy this, Black assassin”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
cheweykiller,
18:52:10 12/01/03 Sun
Jaider
spat back "you think you can make me talk, pig? never in a million
years! you can torture my body till the genetically-modified cows come
home. i'll tell you nothing."
"i'm not going to torture you." Cyrus said softly.
"no?"
"no. GUARDS! bring in the patient!"
the impregnable titanium doors swung open, and a heavilyguarded operating
table was wheeled into the room. on it lay a solitary, frightened figure.
Cyrus looked Jaider straight in the eye. "you will tell me everything
i need to know, because i am going to torture your little brother to death
in front of your very eyes. maybe his screams will change your mind."
he turned to the nurse by his side, patiently holding a deadly looking
scalpel, and said "let us begin."
Jaider looked on in horror as Cyrus went to work. the screams of his brother
ricocheted around the entire complex as his scalp was roughly sliced from
the top of his skull -without anaesthetic - and dropped to the floor without
ceremony. Jaider could swear that Cyrus was enjoying himself. much too
much.
"tell me,"said Cyrus, as he began to slice into the one remaining
eyeball of his victim, "are you ready to talk? because i can keep
doing this all night!" and, with that, he laughed. and he laughed.
and he laughed.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
choo,
19:02:26 13/01/03 Mon
“Enough
enough, ok ill talk.”
“That’s good.” Replied Cyruss “But not good enough.
Gimie one good reason why the hell I shouldn’t just get this over
and done with and slice you up. I bet you could scream the place down.”
“Don’t tempt me you scum sucking pustule.”
“Oh such hard words.” Cyruss glared at Jaider and lunged forward
with lightning speed, sliced the tip of his victims nose and then buried
the scalpel deep into his shoulder. Jaider winced not wanting to give
Cyruss any pleasure from such poorly devised torture. ”Not good enough
for you hey? I thought as much. Nurse bring me the needles.”
“Oh shit.” Jaider thought as Cyruss brought the first red-hot
needle towards him and pushed it slowly into his finger just underneath
the nail. One by one all the needles were inserted each one giving Cyruss
more and more pleasure. The screams were getting louder and louder and
still Cyruss heard almost nothing except for the wonderful music flowing
in his head. It was the tortures one minuet waltz.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
spider,
19:55:11 13/01/03 Mon
the
scenario ran through Jaider's mind - a perverted hero dream - but the
music was drowned out by the laughs of the telepathic guards. Jaider's
eyes opened slowly, the whimpering from the table had turned into a gurgling,
a shallow scream which never quite mustered the energy to make it out
of Chewey's mouth.
The guards wry smiles giving away their abilities to see just exactly
what had been running through Jaider's mind - and he knew from the mocking
laugh that they'd seen more than he meant to give away.
"are you ready to talk?" Cyrus repeated, putting the scapel
down, pausing to wipe the blood from his hands and stepping aside so as
not to obscure jaider\s view of his brother.
One of the guards by the door signalled to Cyrus before turning and leaving
the cell. The remaining guard stood silently listening...
Cyrus smiled and turned to Jaider "do you even need to talk?"
The silence continued, disrupted only by the whimpers and gurgles coming
from the table.
Cyrus sighed, and looking from jaider to the guard, to jaider, took a
couple of steps back, shaking his head "this could have been so easy
for you" he began, "so easy for you both. why'd ya have to go
spoiling everything, huh?"
from the gurgling mess on the table came a staggered, drawling voice "just
...tell......him!"
but all Jaider could hear was the throbbing in his own head getting louder,
and louder............
------------------------------------------------------------------------
maniac,
15:45:46 16/01/03 Thu
.....until
reality started to give way. Jaider could barely feel the pain as the
chains and manacles cut through his flesh.....he watched in a daze as
Chewey's fast-fading torso was strapped down to the inseminating table......soon
his little brother would be nothing but a host to the next batch of Black
Army clones......nothing but a breeding machine for stomping stormtroopers
ready to devour the universe at the will of their supreme leader. Cyrus
Blaze. Overlord. Emperor of galaxies. Cloned already a million times,
placed in positions of power on all the known planets. His was power supreme.
Answerable only to himself, his cloned self perpetuating his own existence
at all costs. and those clones resistant to their own behavioural strains
needed to be brought back in line for their own good. needed to be placed
in situations which would bring out their true nature......
.....and in a dark, damp interrogation room deep in the bowels of the
Eternal Fortress, surrounded by the Black Army of Eternity, Cyrus Blaze
- Lord of all the Universe - surveyed his captive victims, and the tools
at his disposal, and began to discover Himself............
THE
END
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