Portal Breach: The Collision of Worlds :: v.4.0


    Let It Begin

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    Fear
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    Re: Let It Begin

    Post by Fear on Mon Sep 21, 2015 9:21 pm

    A quick textbook kill. His tutors would have surely been proud.

    Blood, sweat, urine, death... Aromas of a massacre most enjoyable, grisly and savage. Zeke, Cho, and Delgado; three men that lay prone on the cold hard cement basement floor, their empty gazes directed forever upwards as puddles of fresh ichor pooled from beneath them. How poetic that these men died screaming... their heavy weaponry and armour insufficient in protecting their wicked lives. There will be no mourning them, not even as the surviving rats began to gnaw on Cho's lifeless fingers. A fitting retribution for the fallen.

    But wait, hadn't there been...?

    "H... H-hngh..."

    Frank.

    Those same unwavering eyes that had seen the death of three men soon retrained themselves upon a gleaming life force hidden behind bloodstained pallets of bundled narcotics. Ah, the source of the urine. The Dark Judge savoured his prey's growing apprehension for a moment, letting it age like a fine wine... allowing the treacherous feeling of hope to worm its way into his heart. It made his descent upon the sinner all the more worthwhile. Frightened squeals echoed throughout the underground chamber as the man flailed for his insignificant life. How... unflattering.

    "N-no, please! Please don't k-kill me!" did he plead, his face a cherry-red and his eyes swollen with tears. Spit dribbled from his hyperventilating mouth and trailed down the sinister clutches of his tormentor.

    A grave voice rumbled above his undignified sobbing. "Death comesss to all, friend."

    Frantic, the man panicked and futilely tried to tear off his captor's hands. The sheer coldness of them was repulsing to the touch, however. "B-But I don't want to die...!" he wheezed pathetically. Bloodshot eyes could barely peer through rivers of tears and sweat. "Can't you... Can't you j-just let me go...? I swear I won't tell anyone, I promise! I-It can be our little s-secret, honest!" It was typical of a sinner to bargain on the eve of their salvation. Another low rumble disturbed the air, Judge Fear feigning consideration; he never had any intention of letting this sniveling mortal glimpse the sun ever again, if he could help it. Although...

    "Mm... I've a better ussse for you."

    "Y-Yes, good! I can be plenty u-useful!"

    "Oh yesss, I wouldn't doubt it. You are, after all, plenty adept with a computer." Insincerity had its purpose, and in this instance it served the ghoul remarkably well. "I'll tell you what..." he continued, tone as sweet as any poisonous honey. "I need to get inssside and you, dear Frank, are going to asssissssst me."

    Ugly crying steadily eased into a trembling whimper. "Y-You... I..."

    Every calm word uttered... every shred of hope dangled... was a trap laced with ulterior motive. Yet the sinner ate them greedily, to the point of filling himself to the seams, even as he felt something alien take hold. What a fool... but even fools had their place in grand schemes. An invisible promise nestled deep within Frank's mind and his very fears began to magically ebb away. It was like epiphany had struck the man and soon his tearful pleas ceased. He looked up not to his executioner but to his master, and for the first time in Frank's worthless crime-filled life he knew tranquility. The man rose when commanded, colour drained from his face and his demeanour composed. "What do you need to me to do," he muttered softly.

    "Sss..." Grotesque bloodied hands, sickly-green and skeletal, offered five withered shrunken heads into Frank's. "Take thessse," hissed his lord, "and educate the iniquitousss of the noble path. Let loosssse the purifying firesss of jussstice upon their immoral sssoulsss." The exchange was accepted without complaint, Frank shoving them into his pant pockets and beneath his sweat-drenched shirt.

    "Your will be done."

    A finger silently bade him off and there was a horrific creak of the Dark Judge's neck. His gaze found itself looking down into the darkened tunnel. "Livewire," he hissed, "you may approach. The sssituation isss now under control." And then the real fun may begin.
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    Re: Let It Begin

    Post by Livewire on Mon Sep 21, 2015 10:37 pm

    The child stayed put, where she was. Not an inch moved as her audio sensors picked up what was going on in the other room. She heard Fear (it was hard not to, honestly) speaking to the one remaining. Hearing him beg for his life, try to bargain, well…

    It annoyed her.

    She knew that he was desperate. She knew that he probably just watched Fear run through the other three like a racer through the finish ribbon, but she couldn’t forgive him for begging.  Maybe it was Livewire’s nerves which made this small infraction seem like such a big deal. Maybe it was because Fear, even with all of the blood, speeches, and aura, had never seemed like someone Livewire could be afraid of. She knew that he was softer, to her and Kev, but even knowing that still didn’t alter the memory she had of him.

    Eventually, the remainder seemed to come to reason. He calmed down in a way that was curious to the child. It didn’t make sense that he came to that on his own. He had been crying only moments before, what was this about doing Fear’s will?  Maybe Fear had done something to him, his mind. He was a psychic, after all. He could control tigers, so a person probably wasn’t any issue either.

    Of course Livewire didn’t grasp the extents of Fear’s ability, nor the deeper nature of the ghoul himself. She was aware enough of what she didn’t know.

    "Livewire, you may approach. The sssituation isss now under control."

    Metal feet clicked against the floor as that bright-yellow frame emerged, ducking out from the darkness and into the room. Her optics looked upon the bodies, unchanging, before she slipped up to Fear’s side. It was hardly the first time she had seen someone freshly-killed. Livewire was certain it was far from the last time, as well.  She looked to her Judge, curiously as her attention was so easily distracted away from the still-warm flesh on the floor. ”What’d you do to the other one?”
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    Re: Let It Begin

    Post by Fear on Tue Sep 22, 2015 4:47 am

    ”What’d you do to the other one?”

    "I sssaved him."

    How good that sounded...

    But of course the truth was far, far more complicated than what the ghoul had answered. Best not to trouble the femme with heavier subject material, really. Today was already going to prove... difficult. A corpse hand beckoned her to follow his lead toward a corner, out of vision from the doorway leading upward into the first level. He pointed to a narcotics pallet and rasped, "Sssit and be mindful. There will be plenty time for judgement later." The Dark Judge resigned himself and did the same, growing deathly mum. Any minute now... Any minute.



    Whispers filled his head.

    Dark, horrible whispers... And yet Frank found comfort in them, even as his skinny fingers teased at the keypad's wiring. Stupid nimrods... Did they honestly think that a tech-wiz like himself wouldn't be able to bypass such asinine security? Please, it was enough to make any computer enthusiast laugh. Frank had the door open within three minutes and didn't waste time in admiring his handiwork. There was a mission - a crusade against the wicked. Brown eyes flicked back and forth in the shadows calmly, hands outstretched to catch his fall should he trip up the stairs. So far so good. None of those steroid-pumping meatheads were on their posts. Like he thought, nimrods. A light shone beneath a closed door and he knew what to do... Show time.

    Rap!

    Rap rap!

    Rap!


    One, two, and one; that was the unspoken sequence to let the folks on the other side wake up. Frank never knew much about them, only that they were the ones running the books and keeping tabs. Bean counters, he supposed. The door peeled back and he raised an arm to shield his vision. Damn, that was bright... How long had he been down there?

    "Fuck, it's Frank."

    "Frank? What's he doin' up here so early?"

    Right, second shift wasn't due for another half hour. Oh well.

    "I need to use the restroom," Frank lied. He licked his lips, tongue dry. "And I'm thirsty. The assholes downstairs wouldn't give me any of their shit. Can you, like, let me through, man?" Both of the men sneered, covering their noses.

    "Shit, Frank... It smells like you already went!"

    "Fucking disgusting. Bathroom's right around the hall, take a left and then another left."

    Well, no reason to argue or chat. Most of the guys didn't like him anyway; something about computers and being a nerd. He'll show them, though. Frank gave a quirky nod and sauntered off, doing as instructed until neither of the guards could keep an eye on him. Perfect... He pressed his frail body against a wall and closed his eyes, letting the whispers fill his thoughts. Right... Uh-huh... So that's your plan. Can't say it wouldn't be one helluva display. And, you know, he never much liked anyone on this half-assed operation to begin with. Why the hell not, let's blow them all to kingdom come. Fingertips gingerly brushed against leathery flesh, eyes and lips quivering. "Ssh... Boss says not yet," he soothed. But soon. Very soon.

    Footsteps lightly traveled down the office hallway and Frank found himself in front of a stairwell. Up here? Again the whispers consoled him. Alright, got it. He ran up them and didn't look back, stealthily emerging on the second level.

    Good, there was no one. For some reason the bigwigs hadn't thought to spread their personnel, leaving only three lookouts on this one.

    Dumb fucks.

    Frank had complete and total discretion with the second level; no security, no cameras, nothing. And as he quietly weaved from room to room, studying the building's infrastructure as the whispers advised, he was able to disperse four of the nasty things unopposed. As for the three lookouts? They had no idea of what was coming. They especially wouldn't have an idea when those bombs went off right behind their oblivious feet. "Cool... It's like I'm playing a stealth game or something..." But his smile didn't last long, forever. What's that? The man paused, holding up the fifth and final head. You... You want him to do...? For a moment, if ever so brief, that same dread from before crept up his spine and nearly caused his stomach to hurl. No, not this time. This time he was going to go out the way he decided, and that was with something none of these idiots were ever going to forget. After all they teased him... After all they scared him and called him nothing more than a dumb, sweaty, stupid nerd... Yeah, no. Payback's a bitch. He took the last head and ran into position, standing at the epicenter of what was to be a glorious demonstration of higher power.

    "You ready for this, little guy?"

    "Bro, I'm a talking shrunkin' head - what do you think?"

    Good answer. Well... it's time to face the music. Frank fell onto his knees and squeezed his eyes shut, his breath hitching in his chest for what would be the last time. It was now or never, baby.



    BOOOOOOOOOM!

    A horrible quake rocked the earth, dust sprinkling onto them from the ceiling. Screams... sounds of many delicate things being crushed... and the horrible silence that ensued. The lights flickered precariously to the point of permanent shutdown, yet a patient Judge Fear hardly so much as blinked. He merely glanced up, his vision no longer filled with gleams of life, and hissed, "My brother would have enjoyed watching them die..." There was an inkling that he was not referring to the honourable Judge Mortis.

    Ah, but there were sinners purge and a young femme who required toughing up. He could reminisce later, when there weren't plans busying his mind. The undead fiend rose and calmly shambled for the main door, and beyond that...

    Ruin.

    The first floor had been devastated, reduced to rubble and barely recognizable puddles of flesh and gore; it was uncertain how many bodies lay buried beneath layers upon layers of brick and mortar. Wiring and pieces of ledge from above teetered dangerously close to the verge of collapse, yet the Dark Judge felt no alarm or urge to hasten his actions. Talons effortlessly removed weighty stone after weighty stone and soon he had carved a path through the debris for both himself and Livewire. Still, he remained mindful of her location and of the possibility of her being squished. As she stepped out and followed behind his shadowy wake, it would become apparent that the second floor had disintegrated onto the first. The result was thoroughly deadly, if not reckless. Above them was a striking splotch of red on the second story's ceiling and a bit of the third - Frank had done well for himself.

    Seventeen down... The last three were currently face-down on the street, having been literally ejected from their vantage points and violently thrown out of their respective windows. They wouldn't be the last.
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    Re: Let It Begin

    Post by Livewire on Sat Oct 03, 2015 9:16 am

    The child took a spot on top of a stack of illicit materials, perching there like a stone bird as she followed her Judge’s command. She didn’t respond to his explanation. How had he saved the sinner?  He hadn’t killed him, had done something with his mind. What was it…?

    It was a few minutes that she would sit there, silently, until the answer came. The ceiling above, the walls, the lights all shook. Darkness enveloped them soon after as the power cables were severed within the very walls that crumbled around them. She looked again to her judge, surprised. She wasn’t expecting that he would blow up the building above while they were still below it. But he must have known that the foundation would support the blow without caving in on them. …right?

    Surely.

    The child followed after Fear, eyes focused on the back of his winged helm. The air was filled with dust, with the smell of fresh death, and all of this gave Livewire the indications of what she would see before she could see it. The door was opened, and the sight was delayed to her for just a moment by Fear’s impressive silhouette against the destruction. The mask would not las for long, for after a step out into the room did she understand just why that tech had been “saved”. It was destruction, all around, from the efficient and well-planned planting of explosives. Livewire imagined that Fear would be missing a few of his heads, with this. She wondered for a moment if he would use her preparation as a chance to collect more.

    Bursts of sparks flew from severed electrical lines, lighting up the scene in a pitiful parallel as the fluorescent lights once did. Exposed concrete had fallen in great chunks all around, filling the floor and scattering sharp rock and dust in a dangerous carpet. Rebar, sheared and stretched, poked out from the chunks of slabs like spears of sharp, twisted metal.  Fine concrete filled the air, lighting up the sparks from the cables like a dense fog. The walls creaked and groaned, and in them Livewire could see the beginning of cracks, expanding outwards from where the only remains of Frank were. ”This building won’t last long.” She was surprised that the walls were still standing, what with the violent removal of an entire floor.

    Even though Livewire’s mind recorded the structural damage, she also saw the blood. The smell of crushed bodies, burnt flesh and evaporated fat also hung in the air. She saw the blood, the crushed computers. Slowly, something started to fall in her mind. Like a shadow. It was slow, lingering and only soft at this stage. How long had it been since Livewire had seen someone killed?  She thought back to the excursion to the forest, to the skeleton man who went mad with magic. She thought about how it had felt as she held him down, keeping him trapped while Fear erased the thing which held him together. The child went silent, but her steps carried her closer to her guardian.

    It was just starting to sink in what they were doing here, in this building, and what they would be doing again and again.
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    Re: Let It Begin

    Post by Fear on Sat Oct 03, 2015 6:58 pm

    ”This building won’t last long.”

    No, he supposed, it wouldn't.

    Heavy fabric snapped in the dense powdery fog as Judge Fear went on the prowl. He could feel them. He could feel the others above panicking like the pathetic insects they were, racing up and down without direction on the remaining stories. Their increasing apprehension was all the more desirable. Quickly, leathery feet strode down a hallway seen by another's eyes, rotten hands effortlessly ripping away the damaged doorway leading to a hazy stairwell. Frank had served well as a scout. Up a flight of stairs the Dark Judge went, the second story completely bypassed in favour of the third, the steely rattling of his chains piercing in their echoes. Upon reaching the third level's heavy door, however... He abruptly paused, the helmeted ghoul seemingly afflicted by a bout of poorly-timed stiffness. Corpse fingers marginally twitched, dozens unseen eyes flitting about in their pulsating sockets.

    Three hidden targets, three sinners that required righteous guidance. Their gleaming life essences were as radiant as the daylight itself, his otherworldly vision plagued by their iniquity. One sought to cower beneath a desk four rooms away on the left-hand side, too paralyzed to move. The second was bolder, having already created a hastily-erected rampart out of damaged materials and office furniture. It lied beyond this door and further down the hall. As for the third soul...?

    "Screw you bastards, I'm getting out of here!"

    "Hector, wait, don't!"


    Thud... Thud... Thud...!

    As for the third, he suffered dearly for his inability to keep a level head. And to keep his head in general.

    Hector peeled back the stairwell door and - SNAP! - off it went, bitten off by an awaiting set of steely teeth. The amount of freshly-spilled blood was gratuitous. "HECTOR! YOU BASTARD!" As well as the plethora of bullets that came flying in hot, metal starkly clashing against metal.

    Gunfire was nothing. Even as the bullets ricocheted off his iron helmet, denting it and creating unflattering pockets, the Dark Judge remained undeterred. He unceremoniously shoved aside Hector's lifeless, still-warm carcass and immediately renewed his frenzied pursuit. Think yourself protected by that barrier, little man? Think again, as these bloodstained links unfurl and coldly whistle for your insignificant life. By the time Judge Fear reached the halfway point between the entrance and his prey, the deed was already finished. He lobbed his grinning weapon with a seasoned throw, the maneuver done countless times to the point of startling accuracy, and once again those serrated teeth came crashing down. Flesh ripped and muscle tore, the walls stained crimson.

    Two sinners down, one still left.
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    Re: Let It Begin

    Post by Livewire on Sat Oct 03, 2015 8:06 pm

    Much shorter legs, nearly half the length, struggled to keep up with the predatory gait of Fear as he stalked towards the means of their uplifting. Or the stairs to the upper floor, in a less confusing way to say it.  Metal feet tapped after him as the child kept at his heels with a much quicker walk than Fear needed. Up two flights they went, up to the floor mostly undamaged by the explosives. The child could feel as if she wasn’t…all there. Part of her was downstairs, with the splashes of gore hidden beneath the concrete and steel. So distracted was she that the little metal child bumped into Fear’s side before she realized that he had gone still. She looked up in surprise, searching his helm for some indication as to why he had halted.

    None was found, of course. It wasn’t like Fear could make facial expressions that she could see.

    …well, not without killing her.

    Probably.

    Livewire took a step back, so she wasn’t pressed against Fear. She heard someone on the other side of the door, saw it open, but barely had enough time to get an image of the poor sod’s face before the entire head was removed. For being frozen, Fear could be shockingly quick when faced with a sinner. He moved forward, and Livewire followed after him.

    ting!

    She quickly realized that wasn’t the best idea when a bullet ricocheted against her neck. She retreated as a hand came up, pressing against where the small bit of metal had grazed her. Nothing was broken, not even scratched, but the bullet had enough force to trigger one of her damage sensors even though the metal was intact. Livewire took a moment, just to shut down the alarm, and in that time the hallway had already grown quiet once more.

    Two blue eyes peeked out from behind the door frame before a small, yellow body followed. Livewire quickly crossed the distance between herself and Fear, carefully stepping around the body that was left on the floor. She stopped at Fear’s side, optics looking at where the head of the other man used to be. It was still bleeding, still dripping black-red upon the shelter he had so foolishly wasted time constructing.
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    Re: Let It Begin

    Post by Fear on Sun Oct 04, 2015 6:39 pm

    Ah... the numbing distress that only death could provide. He recognized the emotion well, be it from a sinner or a highly-advanced machine. Livewire needed to see this - to experience this - and weep not for her fractured innocence. The sooner she embraced the cruelty of truth, the easier it would be to manage the agony of reality. Something whimpered in the distance and thoughts churned out of reflection.

    It would seem that the third sinner had just soiled themselves.

    Judge Fear holstered his bloodied mantrap and directed a skeletal talons forward, unhurried and in control. "Ssseek," he rasped. And upon the ghoul's foul breath did the shadows obey. A great many dark things slithered out from the abyssal reaches of his heavy cape; broken claws and gnashing teeth hungrily sought their masters' quarry, nightmarish shapes twisting and writhing across the bloodstained carpet. If the femme looked carefully and remained steadfast, she would find more than a couple deranged eyes matching her curious gaze... The amorphous horde snaked out of sight and rounded the corner, followed by a bloodcurdling - "AHHHH!" - scream. Guess what the children had found? Nothing short of a divine miracle would have spared the mortal from a fate most cruel. Oh such a wondrous sound... the moist, brisk ripping of flesh. Were not his guttural shrieks of terror delightful, dear Livewire? Were not his desperate pleas for help exciting? The spectacle was over as quickly as it had began, and soon the Dark Judge's umbral servants returned with a prize.

    A bulbous shape awkwardly wobbled across the blood-soaked carpet and found itself nestled within Judge Fear's gangrenous hands. Ask yourself, femme: had you ever seen a man's severed head up close and personal? Though she may believe that this fresh trophy was to replace the Little Ones he had lost, the ghoul had other plans. He gripped it by the hair and began shambling off, back for the stairwell. A little trail of gore drizzled in his wake. Follow if you wish to see what else he had in store for those above.

    Returning to task, the fourth flour wasn't given a passing glance as they moved to the fifth. This is where Judge Fear again had to rely on his wits. He pointed at a safe distance away from the doorway and rasped, "Ssstay."

    You, Livewire, were far more precious and he hadn't forgotten about the bullet that grazed your neck.

    With the femme safely out of direct fire, it was time to finish the five restless souls hiding behind their heavy weaponry and body armour. There was always more than one way to skin a sinner. Judge Fear roughly shoved the door aside and instantly whirled away from the opening, not a moment too soon. Had he lingered another nanosecond like a dimwitted game fowl, his host would have been riddled by a barrage of armour-piercing rounds and hollow-points. The gunfire was deafening, the smell of freshly-ignited gunpowder striking. Firearms had come a long way since the time Judge Fear had walked an actual beat. No matter, however. As he prepared his latest weapon against iniquity, the disembodied head from two stories down prepared, no amount of superior firepower would save these men from their impending demise. He waited for a lull in the shooting and hurled it with ease.

    ...splat
    ......splat
    .........splat!


    At once the armed thugs shouted in fright, their emotions flaring brilliantly between unbridled fear and anger. Good, they recognized their fallen comrade as the adrenaline pounding through their veins turned to ice. Are you ready to witness something amazing, Livewire? Pressing a hand against his throat, gnarled fingers wrapping around his collar, the Dark Judge spoke and the immoral trembled.

    "Pathetic creaturesss..." he hissed, addressing the quintuplet. Ten eyes stared bewilderingly as the detached head began to talk, mouth articulating each and every word. "Look at you, thinking to thwart the inevitable and prolong judgement. You are nothing more than purposelesssss insssectsss toiling unto oblivion. How many of your brethren have died on thisss eve, their ssscreamsss ringing throughout your earsss? Do you, sssinnersss, think yourssselvesss immune to the sssame fate that hasss befallen them? Arrogance..." It was like poison, his voice. The more the drug dealers listened, the more they slowly felt the life ebb from their cooling bodies. Bone-white fingers no longer hovered precariously over the triggers of their guns. It shan't be much longer... "Why sssuffer needlesssssly? Why make it painful for yourssselvesss? You are going to die, sssinnersss... Why not choosssse how? Embrace my wisssdom and go forth to righteoussssnessssss willingly. Drop your weaponssss and sssubmit to the futility of your meaninglesssss exisssstence..."

    The toxin had already taken its toll.

    Plastic and metal clashed against hardened flooring with a noisy clatter, an unseen vice squeezing the men within its icy grasp. Gone was the colour in their faces... Gone was the hope in their eyes... A sickly pallour replaced the rosiness in their cheeks, a milky film glossing over their corneas. Mass suggestion was a wonderful, wonderful technique. He need only utter the final nail in their metaphorical coffins.

    "Methinkssss it isss a lovely day for a ssstroll." Nothing more, nothing less. The men, having yielded to the helplessness tormenting their body and mind, listlessly approached the nearby windows. What came next was no surprise: they opened them, stepped out onto the building's granite ledges, and simply... jumped. No screams, no last minute prayers, no crazed laughter... Just the soft, distant collision of flesh and bone against impersonal sidewalk. It all happened so fast, almost surreal. Judge Fear removed his hand off his throat and resumed his climb ever upward. "Come," he urged. "We are not yet done with thisss infessstation."

    Or would you rather wish to stay behind with a decomposing head and the stench of death?
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    Re: Let It Begin

    Post by Livewire on Fri Oct 16, 2015 11:37 pm

    They screamed. Fear’s prey screamed as familiar shades, as loved shades that Livewire knew well enough to feel comfortable with, rent him into pieces. Livewire knew well enough what the presented lump would be long before it was delicately deposited into Fear’s hands, long before she saw the frozen face of terror and pain that was stuck on that head. The world seemed to go still as she looked at the face, cupped inside of the fearsome talons she had come to trust.

    It seemed like an eternity that she stared at that face. The slack jaw, the open eyes, all of it seemed almost…

    Accusing.

    Her feet carried her after her judge, up the stairs as he set upon his next target. Livewire thought to herself that she was just keeping to his heels, but it was also just as true that she was fleeing the scene, fleeing yet another death that she had been witness to. She tapped quietly behind her Judge, Judge Fear, and obeyed his order. She stood behind him, away from the path of a stray bullet. Quiet, watching, awaiting what he would show her next.

    She had signed up for this.

    She had asked for this.

    This is what she wanted.

    She heard, distantly, the sounds of those who came through the door. The ones that spoke out in shock at the image of their comrade’s severed head. Her eyes watched Fear’s fingers, his hand, his throat, as he spoke and her audio sensors heard his voice from the head that he had held in those trusted hands. She heard his voice and it was not from him, but at the same time it was and it was him. It was him. It was him.

    Livewire knew what would happen, the moment the last word was spoken. With just his words, his words…

    Each thump was as loud as a canon. It rung in her ears, on her mind, as the men quietly took themselves with nothing more than the words of her caretaker. Her Fear.

    Her Fear.

    She followed him, as always.

    Her Judge.
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    Re: Let It Begin

    Post by Fear on Wed Oct 21, 2015 12:52 am

    It must be hard... Oh must it be hard to stomach the carnage; to dance after the shadow of death as both an outsider and, soon, a participant. Do you feel remorseful, femme? Do you feel an ounce of empathy for what has befallen these men? Look upon them, mm... Look upon them and realize the multiple facets of their very beings. Drug peddlers, boyfriends, husbands, lovers, family men, crooks, abusers, users, churchgoers, owners of cats and dogs and snakes and birds, writers, artists, poets, sponsors, keepers of virtues and vices; people. And people, no matter their life accomplishments and failings, die all the same, don't they?

    Witness, Livewire, as your Judge takes from families... from spouses... from lovers... from children... Witness, as he takes from the very helpless faces that you have so much in common. Witness the beginning of the seven-day clock, the eternal void... of abandonment.

    This is what you wanted.

    Silence gripped the building where once the sound of bustling footsteps filled the eerie gloom. No longer did phones ring or printers noisily eject paper after paper; Limbo had descended at last. Footsteps softly traveled up the stairwell, chains rattling with every toll of the bell... Do you sense it, femme? Do you sense the inevitable, asphyxiating and absolute? Do you sense it roiling off your Judge's encumbered shoulders with every fateful second that passed? Perhaps and perhaps not... But for the two souls above, trapped on the tenth level and shakily clinging to their firearms, their knuckles a startling bone-white? They knew. Oh yes, they knew... The reaper was coming, whether they desired it or not. There was nowhere else to go, nowhere else to hide... Their deaths were foretold from the very moment they woke up on this ominous day. Can you imagine being so powerless, Livewire, as a force of nature just takes everything... away?

    Rattle...
    ...Rattle...
    ......Rattle.


    It was a quiet, somber journey to the tenth floor; to the final poor souls that trembled behind the stairwell door. Whimpering disturbed the stillness and your Judge assessed the situation with a predatory eye. Two sinners obstinate in futility, very armed and very dangerous... He looked to you and evenly hissed, "Ssstay." You knew better than to disobey, yes?

    Like before, the door flew wide open. Unlike before, so did your Judge.

    He was quick - quicker than you had the privilege of ever realizing, and within mere seconds he was upon his hapless prey as a hungry wolf was to unwitting sheep. The floor brilliantly exploded with bursts of gunfire and frightened cries, shadows contesting for dominance with every flash of a gun's muzzle. The scene was jarring, surreal. Hardened talons raked across flesh and the air began to smell heavily of iron and powder. More howls of pain, more frantic bullets missing their mark, and then... nothing. The hunter had finished with his hunt. Two fresh bodies lay at his decrepit feet, still warm and gasping for precious life, when a heavy voice beckoned for you. "Approach." Come and revel in this sobering moment with him, your Judge.
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    Re: Let It Begin

    Post by Livewire on Mon Oct 26, 2015 10:10 am

    She approached. The world felt like it was made of cotton, soft and muted to her senses. Of course it wasn't, but Livewire wished so dearly that it was. Each detail was sharp, in reality. Every sound, each flash of light was etched in striking detail as it was recorded into her mind. Each step, each clink of his chains, each command.

    She had stood still. She had obeyed.

    Her wishes wouldn't help her now. Everything was clear and so much brighter, so much sharper, than she wished it was. Each whimper, each quiet sound of pathetic acceptance was as if it were whispered right into her audio receptor. She didn't flinch, but merely stared at the doorway through which her Judge disappeared.

    To the self-imposed silence, the gunfire barely touched her. She hardly saw it, for her mind was following Fear instead.

    She approached. Small feet quietly padded towards him and carried the child to the fiend. She stood quietly, beside him, and looked down at his good work. She did not speak. She did not look up to the glowing mantle for which she held such affection.  

    She just stared at the faces. At the bodies.

    She had to do this.

    She had to.
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    Re: Let It Begin

    Post by Fear on Tue Oct 27, 2015 5:49 am

    And so it was.

    Twenty-seven souls, forever silenced. Twenty-seven souls, effectively sentenced. The druglords of the Outer District had suffered a blow on this day, but would it be enough? Perhaps, perhaps... Twenty-seven criminals vanquished, twenty-seven more to take their place. Otherworldly eyes looked to the femme, her sunny frame a stark contrast to the paling light within. "They have been judged." His grave voice was a siren, ringing true in the afterwake's gloom and further cementing his charge in the harshness of reality. "Pity them not," he continued to hiss. "They would have only ssspread their poissson further." A cold rationalization for an even colder paradigm. There was nothing else to be done, their mission complete and the lesson given. Soon it will be time to digest what had transpired. "Come, we are finissshed he - "

    "YOU SON OF A BITCH, I'LL KILL YOU IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO!"

    The room erupted with gunfire, spent shells noisily clattering onto the floor. Bullets flew and clashed violently against iron and steel.

    "Sss...!" A sinner? But how!? It should not have been possible, and yet... There was no time to question, to think, to angrily snarl. Rotten claws immediately snatched the femme off her feet and the Dark Judge carried her off with haste, shots whizzing dangerously close to their heads. The air became stricken with the nauseating aroma of rotten flesh and caustic fluids; corpses made for disgusting sponges, but better a lifeless host than hers.

    Over a hundred bullets must have been fired before Judge Fear slipped behind a concrete pillar, his cape in tatters and his uniform stained a sickening dark-green and brown. And over a hundred more shall join their brethren as he spoke over the deafening ruckus and furious shouts. "Sss... Livewire, I have need of your ssservicesss!" did he so demand. A glint of gold flashed in her vision, six chambers opened to reveal six golden soldiers. They were inspected within an instant, the chamber snapped into position as a leathery finger hovered precariously over a trigger. You remember this firearm, don't you, Livewire? "Ssscan through thisss barrier and - " BUDDA, BUDDA, BUDDA!

    "LIKE THE IMPLANT, YOU LEATHER-WEARING MOTHERFUCKER? YEAH, TRY THEM PSYCHIC POWERS ON ME NOW, ASSHOLE. IT'S AMAZING WHAT MODERN SCIENCE CAN DO."

    So that's how he escaped attention...

    Judge Fear responded with a low growl, barely able to detect the man's insufferable soul. You just wait, you just wait... "Livewire, lissssten to me. I need you to ssscan through thisss barrier and tell me hissss location exactly." Be his eyes so that he can vent that sinner's head!
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    Re: Let It Begin

    Post by Livewire on Sun Dec 20, 2015 7:04 pm

    Livewire barely had time to think before her world was alight in gunfire once more. Bullets whizzed by, pinging off of her and jutting against, and through, precious coolant lines. Thankfully no bright pink or blue revealed itself in the small bursts of green which dripped from the pressured lines and onto her sweater.

    She hardly had time to move, either, before claws gripped her and hauled her frame to safety. Metal hands clenched onto the tattered, damaged cape which she had so lovingly patched only a few months before. Thankfully the rotting air did not bother her, but she was made aware of the extent of Fear's damages.

    "Fear-!" But he cut her off. She did not mind. How could she mind, when that single glint of gold took the entirety of her attention. She remembered the gun, remembered how its bullets speared through her and how its owner had screamed, how he had screamed and she held him down and he screamed-

    "Livewire, lissssten to me. I need you to ssscan through thisss barrier and tell me hissss location exactly."

    That deep voice broke her from it. The child nodded and turned her attention to the pillar. The child's eyes shifted, allowing different scans to take priority.

    One second passed...

    Another...

    And she found him.

    Livewire's hands both raised. She extended the forefinger of each. One was placed on the wall, the other was held two feet away as the child lined up with two points a path. The path, Fear might find, ended at the center of his prey's chest on the other side of the room.

    "There."
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    Re: Let It Begin

    Post by Fear on Sat Jan 02, 2016 11:56 pm

    It was dangerous, almost neglectful, subjecting Livewire to this hellish crusade; however, what better way was there to educate a child? Bullets flew and the striking aroma of gunpowder and human stink drenched the air. A pungent undercurrent of rot harassed the senses. There will be time to inspect the femme for damage, but now was not that time. Now was the time to hunt. No sooner had Livewire drawn a precise line from one plated finger to the next, Judge Fear's hardened gaze was already making quick work of her calculations. Such a useful little space-robot... Perhaps in another time and place, Livewire could have made for a fine ally of the law. Ah, but such were dreams. There was a fatal clicking of a cocked hammer and the ghoul promptly sprung into action. No word, no sound, not a single utterance that the fight was once again in his favour. In one rigid pivot of his leathery heels, the ghoul relived his long-forgotten days as a street Judge on the hellish pot-marked boulevards of Deadworld. The maneuver was nothing short of standard.

    BANG!

    And his well-timed shot echoed years' worth of grueling routine. The golden bullet sang as it whistled through inches of flesh and muscle, its lethal tip penetrating bone with all the beauty and grace of a surgeon's blade. Undead or not, a Judge was always expected to be proficient with a firearm. Such marksmanship was characteristically rewarded with -

    "AHHHH!"

    - a pained, horrendous... scream.

    Delightful.

    Simply delightful.

    Desperation, the stench of terror, blood... Judge Fear was a basic creature with basic wants and needs. He descended upon the sinner like the macabre phantasm that he was, grotesque hands outstretched, and reveled in his prey's trepidation. The fiend's sudden enthusiasm to further agonize his wounded quarry was naturally met with panicked opposition.

    "There isss no essscape for you, fool!"

    "Get away from me, you fuckin' FREAK."

    Alas...

    It was always a treat when they resisted, though the resulting skirmish that ensued was lackluster and bereft of thrill; a sturdy kick of his leg effortlessly sent the sinner's blistering-hot automatic rifle spinning aside with a noisy clatter. How... droll. But, then again, better a decisive conclusion than a botched firefight with unnecessary ramifications. Were you still behind the pillar like a good girl, Livewire?

    The sinner struggled as he might and squirmed as he could, but once those hardened talons pierced into his supple flesh and lodged themselves deep into his ribs, pointed tips stained crimson... Well, the fight had been over since long before it began. An agonized wheeze escaped the man's squeezed lungs and he found the previous energy in his limbs sharply waning. To kill him slowly or to rip his throat while he still breathed... It was hardly a decision that required additional thought. Carried across the unfinished level as if he were nothing more than air, the man found himself thrown roughly into an office chair and was soon ensnared by thick ropes of steely chains. "Comfortable?" hissed a mocking Judge Fear. Unable to move and his ribcage compressed to the point of rupturing, the man could only give a distressed murmur.

    "What... what the fuck do you want with me...?" he coughed. Blood trickled from his bruised lips like a fine, delicate wine.

    "It'sss rather sssimple..." The Dark Judge stepped aside and began searching about the general vicinity, collecting various items for his own nefarious ends. A hammer from a nearby construction zone, a badly-damaged wooden chair leg, some cloth, and... liquor. Yes, these will all do nicely. The sinner watched with morbid fascination, his brow dripping with perspiration. "You know thingsss, mm... Thingsss that I cannot readily accesssss do that marveloussss piece of technology in your head. I find it amazing what ssscience can produce thessse daysss..."

    Nostrils flared and the man openly spat. "Yeah, you like that, you fuckin' sicko? We heard about what you and the other psychopath down there do; how you scramble people's minds and just rip the shit out of them. Well, you ain't gonna be doin' that with me. Admit it - I've outsmarted you."

    ...Was that so?

    By now, Judge Fear had finished making his rounds and returned, his many chains rattling and the shadows dancing around his grotesque feet melding into an abyssal black. "Perhapsss," he answered evenly. A chair was withdrawn and placed gruffly in front of the sinner, the Dark Judge stepping over it with ease and having himself a seat. Now face-to-face, knee-to-knee... it was time to begin a little game. And who didn't like games, hmm? "Livewire, pleasssse come over here and asssisssst me. My eyesss are not what they usssed to be." And you certainly like games, don't you, femme?

    The sinner could only glare at his jailor with increasing confusion, his hazel eyes every so often darting between the Dark Judge's sinister helmet and the hammer playfully tapping against his monstrous palm.
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    Re: Let It Begin

    Post by Livewire on Tue Jan 05, 2016 10:15 pm

    Dangerous, yes.  Neglectful?  Perhaps. Livewire wasn't very good at being a dependent child. Emotionally, sure, of course, but the femme often would wander by herself in order to explore the world that had seemed so new and wonderful in her younger years.

    The child stood still, silent behind the column as Fear swept away like that shadow of death so many must have seen him as. Maybe that was why the ghoul had so many negative reactions from her friends? He was, in the most basic, a walking corpse with good aim and psychic powers. It was the determination and his presence that would make him seem like so much more, right? That was what made him so fearsome to his prey.

    Many times, Livewire saw him as a lanky spider of a body. A joker, a playful (if macabre) soul thta she could always count on having a good time with. Many times Livewire saw him as softer, kinder, and more understanding than many people she had ever met.

    It was so easy for her to think of those times and try to drown out the sounds of Fear's conquest.

    The femme's small, metal hands tightly held onto the fabric of her own cape as she focused her gaze on the floor. Not entirely, no, there were more interesting things to look at. Her sweater was...pretty much ruined. She might be able to wash out the coolant and the oil seeping into the fabric from the few torn lines along the joints of her body, but the color would be sacrificed and she doubted that she would ever get all of it out, anyway.  Another lost cause, but that was fine.

    She was starting to think that every time she saw that golden gun, she would end up losing another sweater.

    It was much nicer to think about sweaters than about Cyrus.

    Thins were starting to quiet down.  Or, well...they had to be. Usually Livewire would take that lull to mean that Kev and Fear were communicating mentally, but this man couldn't do that?  That must have been why Fear couldn't find him earlier. So, what..?  Oh.  That was her cue, apparently.

    The child stepped out from behind the column. Two bright blue eyes focused on the man in the chair (she estimated he'd just be a body, not a man, soon enough) as her feet pulled her to her ghoul's side. She felt like the world was made of cotton as she stopped by Fear's side, still shorter than him even when he sat. Her face was...different, now. The child's mouth was drawn into a small line, but nothing much showed. It was her eyes that were wider, brighter, almost frightened. The gravity of what she had asked for, what they were accomplishing, was finally starting to slowly sink in.

    The child gazed upon the dying man and, in that moment, knew that these were his last moments. Even if he went to the pool, they would still stay with him. He would know her face.

    She didn't know what to do with that information, and so she stood. Stood, and waited for instruction.
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    Re: Let It Begin

    Post by Fear on Wed Jan 06, 2016 4:37 pm

    "...Jesus Christ, you brought a child to watch all this shit!?"

    Why yes, the ghoul certainly had.

    Livewire's appearance changed little; by the time she quietly stepped forward and made her presence known, Judge Fear was already proceeding with the interrogation. The hammer in his monstrous hands suddenly gained a new, sinister purpose. "A child ssshe may be," he began calmly, "but thisss isss a lessssson that all ssshould be made to witnesssss. You, sssinner, have committed insssurmountable crimesss - and transssgresssssionsss againssst the law, no matter how sssmall, are to be punissshed." Possession of narcotics, drug trafficking, organized crime, life... Need the Dark Judge go further? Bulbous knuckles cracked and popped, the fiend getting to the heart of the matter. "You know information... Information that I need to exterminate thisss criminal infessstation at lassst. A pity that your mind isss barricaded by technological wondersss... The alternative ssshall not be enjoyable for you."

    Confusion mixed with indignation as the man snapped his eyes off Livewire and instead latched them onto his tormentor. "And just what the fuck are you talking about, huh!? What alternative? You can't do shit, so either get off the pot and kill me or shove it up your psychopathic asshole!"

    Tut, tut... such crude language in front of a minor.

    "Charming," Judge Fear hissed, unimpressed. "I am going to asssk you a quessstion and I am going to only asssk it once: where isss your main dissstribution facility?" Where is the heart of your nest, vermin?

    Laughter, now.

    Nothing but laughter, as the man leaned back his head and openly defied the wretched creature before him. "Oh, and like I'm going to give you that," he chuckled. "I'm going to say something and I'm only going to say it once: you can bite my sinful ass, you fuckin' wacko!"

    The Dark Judge always loved it when sinners played hard to get. Their resistance only made his job much more delightful. "Sssuit yourssself," he rasped. "Livewire, it ssseemsss our guessst isss rather uncooperative. Why don't we get them in a more sssociable mood? Look at hisss handsss, and tell me which finger sssuitsss your fancy. Go on, don't be ssshy."

    At once the previous laughter abruptly stopped, a look of terror washing over the man's glistening face. W-What was the thing going to do...?

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    Re: Let It Begin

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