CptCommie

With a flourish Feliks pushed open the doors to the basement laboratories of the Overmagnus scientific division. Two Inquisitional Squad soldiers followed him, black armor reflecting the overhead halogen lights. Their heavy boots echoed off the empty hallways as they passed by bloody stretchers and grisly tools. Anyone who exited the side labs immediately made way for Feliks and his goons, looking at their own feet and avoiding the men’s eyes. Feliks paid this no mind and still smiled and politely nodded to them. No one who worked in these labs was proud of what they did.
Lights flickered overhead, punctuated by shouts and screams. One of the most recent goals of the head scientists was to create a lightning controller. So far, there had been little success. Finally they reached the last door in the hall, light ominously filtering through a barred window into the hall and washing over the trio who dared to approach it. The room was silent. Feliks pushed the door open with some apprehension. A voice, gritty and hoarse, groaned from within.
“Come in Feliks Danya, Head of the Secret Police. Tell me, how has your medication been treating you?”
Angered, he shoved the door open and charged in, prepared to beat whomever had spoken to him so disrespectfully. He stumbled mid-step when he almost fell over a bandaged man in a wheel chair. His entire head was covered in yellowing bandages splashed with dark brown. Only one eye showed through, almost entirely black. He had a metal bar in the back of his mouth, keeping his teeth from gnashing together. His arms were fastened to his chest by a straight jacket. Both feet were shackled together. Feliks took a step back, shocked.
“Do I frighten you, Feliks? I can assure you…I seek only to further the Overmagus’s cause.”
He spoke in bursts, shattered by low groans and muffled shouts. He cackled madly. Feliks brought up his arm. The bound mad tried to mimic the move, only to be frustrated by his jacket. It became obvious that he randomly, uncontrollably attempted to mimic the movements of those around him.
“I see you’ve noticed my disability. It does not bother me.”
Taking a deep breath, Feliks approached the man. He started to speak to him, but was quickly cut off.
“You want me to prove it. Alright, we can try your idea. You think of something, I repeat it.”
He smiled wickedly. He clearly enjoyed his new abilities and the discomfort is caused in others. Feliks started thinking of various events and images. The psychic repeated them perfectly.
“Blue. Rain. Shoe. Tree. Myself. Fear. White…and a rather inappropriate thought about the nurse behind me.”
Feliks gasped, quickly rising.
“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realize our little game was over.”
Feliks didn’t have to be a psychic to know he was lying. He turned to the scientists around him.
“What do you call him?”
Nervously, the leader spoke.
“We call him Bob sir. He seems to enjoy it.”
Feliks nodded in approval.
“Alright Bob. You’re going to be working with us now. We can use a man of your skills.”
Bob grinned.
“Very well then…but use me wisely…”
He spat the words out before groaning again. Feliks left him to his own devices. He moved on to a man who sat behind a completely dark shield, it covered his entire face. Otherwise, he looked normal. His accompanying surgeon introduced the specimen.
“#947. Optically enhanced weather controller.”
Feliks looked him over, he didn’t seem to special. He curiously flipped the shield up. What was unveiled shocked him. Dozens of eyes, large, small, all different colors and species lay planted on his face. Some were artificial, glowing deep red. His nose had been removed to allow more space for eyes, his mouth nearly sewn entirely shut. Feliks turned away.
“Alright. Both will do. The Overmagus will be pleased with the news that some success has come out of this nightmarish mad house.”
He left the room in disgust, his guards following quickly. He muttered under his breath.
“What has science done…”
Behind him, Bob burst into laughter. The echoing insanity followed him down the hall way.

Ha Ha! Great Success!

OOC: OH! I thought...I didnt know...oh. Well, I could just explain it here. Arrested, taken to a far off place, and interrogated. No 'Let me take you into my lair and leave you with my easily seduced mistress or incompetent lackies' thing. If I need to I can change to post, I dont think I've done anything that wouldnt happen anyways...

The guard waited patiently for another moment. Then he removed the outstretched hand, and with it the option of turning back. He nodded to the other guard manning the machine gun. He cocked the weapon and brought it to bear on the car. From the other side of the street a squad of Army of Steel soldiers approached the vehicle, weapons at the ready. The spoke through their simple vocoder.

"Stay where you are. You are placed under arrest by the Overmagnus."

With them a large, brutish man followed. He smiled as the malicious group approached the Ferrari.

OOC: Nothing in particular really. I was going to reference the encounter in the next massive post.

The soldier stared at the car with his arm outstretched. It wasnt often someone approached a check point and admitted to forgetting their I.D.
"Sir I'm going to have to ask you to either turn around and go back or find that identification. Im going to do you a favor since you sound out of town and not just arrest you where you sit."

On both sides of the checkpoint soldiers and robots alike watched the black car pull up. In the guard box a soldier extended his arm to the window. Another watched the car with a mounted machine gun.
"Hand over I.D and show your face please."

Douglas hurried back to the blue eyed man. He leaned low and whispered to him. The note taker nodded and closed the note pad.

“It sounds as though the good doctor was playing with forces he shouldn’t have been.”

He grinned, a half smile the was some what alarming. He placed the notes in his pocket and removed a pair of car keys. Douglas moved next to Gretchen. He placed his heavy hand on her shoulder and smiled, much more sincere.

“This lab is going to be seized and its contents gathered for an investigation into what the doctor may have found, and what he tampered with. We are going to have to ask you to gather any information you can on ‘Seraphim-666’ and Daniel. Pictures would be the most helpful. The abomination is someone in this city, and we are going to find her.”

The blue eyed man was already half way out the door when Douglas let go of Gretchen’s shoulder.

“We will be waiting outside. And don’t let Charles scare you, he’s a puppy dog.”

Douglas made his way outside to where Charles was standing next to the car. The sun was setting in Paragon and long shadows filled the streets. Charles looked to Douglas.

“What do you thinks going to happen to her?”

“Nothing bad. She’s done nothing wrong. They’ll drill her for a bit, then ship her out to someplace in the middle of no where.”

Charles nodded and opened the car door, he thought out loud.

“Bioengineered angels…who would try that anymore…”

The blue eyed man didn’t change his position at all. Like a machine, he continued to hold the pencil to paper. The man behind him stroked his scruffy black beard with large hands. He shook his head.

"No. There was no little girl at the scene. However, the was a bullet lodged in the ground and a splatter pattern. There may have been a bod-"

The blue eyed man put his hand up to silence the bearded policeman.

"Okay, your turn. Tell us everything. In the mean time my partner here, Douglas, is going to take a look around the lab."

Douglas nodded and set into the lab, absentmindedly scratching the beard and looking about.

The two police entered silently, shutting the door behind them. Both had very grave looks about them.

"Your husband was found this afternoon in an alley not to far from here. You may want to sit down for this..." The man paused and cleared his throat, "He was dead. It looks like he may have committed suicide. I know this is very difficult for you but we have a few questions."

The speaker removed a notepad from his pocket and places a pencil on it. He wrote the date and locations on it before clearing his throat again. He looked down on Gretchen with light blue eyes over a hawk nose.

"Tell me what happened this afternoon."

The convoy made its way deliberately through the French country side. Life was simpler in the fields and forests. Secret Police had no interest there save the occasional helicopter or patrol, and the people we free to do as they would. Feliks watched out the window of the black SUV quietly, taking in the sights. He hadn’t been outside for so long, and the chance to go to southern Europe on a moral boosting tour was a perfect chance. He had had his fun in Spain and lower France. Despite that, the towers of the Overmagnus building on the horizon was a welcoming image. As they neared the city the atmosphere seemed to change. The sky was darker with smog from the large unchecked industry. Buildings became far more plentiful and ugly. And as they grew nearer to the city line a single large sculpture came into view. A granite impression of Archlich, standing with both arms spread wide to welcome any traveler.

At its base a military check point had been set up. Every person was required to present I.D and be cataloged in the city. Anyone caught in the city who was not cataloged faced heavy retribution. The car was stopped and the driver showed some I.D with a paper. Feliks watched from the back seat as the guard looked both the paper and card over carefully. Suddenly realizing the person being driven, he stood up straight and saluted. He handed the papers back and smiled.

“Welcome back to New Mu, sir.”

Feliks leaned into the front of the car and smiled to the guard.

“Always great to be back.”

Without another word the windows were rolled up and the car set in motion again. Slowly working through the outskirts of Mu, Feliks eyed all the statues. Some were busts of Archlich, others intricate carvings of re enactments of great battles. Most were carved of black marble. In the center of one city block was one of white marble. A single soldier was shown standing, his head on his chest and a look of despair on his face. One hand was bandaged and the other clutched a pistol. Before him was a body covered in a cloth. Words were carved in its base.

“In tribute to those who died fighting for what they believed was truth.”

Below is was carved the names and flags of the nations that had stood against the Overmagnus forces. A single number, with out explanation was written.

“36, 924, 000.”

The number was rough estimate of course. No one knew exactly how many people had died fighting the Overmagnus. Eventually the statue fell out of view. In its place now stood the impressive towers and structures of the Overmagnus Headquarters. The seat of the world government itself. The buildings were separated by court yards but connected by underground rail ways. Stone towers stood atop all the buildings, increasing in size until they all met at a single massive tower, well armored and foreboding. At the base of each building was a statue of the branches respective leaders. Jack, Malevolith, Deaths Right Hand, and Toy Dispenser looked upon passer by in various heroic poses.

Separate from the massive complex was the low, unspectacular headquarters of the Secret Police. Feliks had no statue, no heroic bust or quote. A single bronze plate screwed to the wall in front of the entry doors was his only recognition. The convoy split apart at the building, the trucks and armored vehicles returning to their respective depots. Feliks stepped out of the car and worked his way up the stairs to his office. Set in the center of the three story brick building his office was well protected from prying eyes or ears. On his desk lay pictures of propaganda posters in the works, slogans crying in bright red or white text “Remember what we fight for!”. Above that was a list of The Underground atrocities, some real others fictional. A single image emblazoned them all. A child, shot dead in street near her mother, shot to death as well. The two victims had be slain during a fire fight with Underground rebels. He shoved them all aside with complete apathy. Instead in their place he let drop a thick manila envelope. Inside were records of all the messages he had missed in his absence. He scanned them as quickly as possible searching for a message from Thuel. He saw that he had apprehended a Underground member, but that it had yet to be delivered. He quickly called the local office in Thuels area. He left a short message saying that he demanded the captured man be delivered IMMEDIATELY.

He hung up the phone and set to work.
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“Cause of death: Suicide.”
The coroner looked over the body in the street, while photographers took pictures of it from al angles. Two secret police looked on silently. The two had found the body in the alley a few hours after his death. The I.D was of a Doctor Daniel West. He had been in some trouble with the Overmagnus for minor infractions before, but never anything serious. When they were done photographing and writing reports, the body was zipped up and moved into an ambulance. The two secret police stood and waited for the ambulance to leave the alley. The two spoke.
“I suppose we should check with the widow West then.”
The other nodded.
“I guess so.”
They made their way to the address, not so far from the body.

((New Mu is in France. France, not central Europe or anywhere else. It is standing near Paris, close enough that Paris could be considered and extension of New Mu. That is all.))

The advancing soldiers were thrown back by the force, but the remaining fired with both laser and projectile weapons. The cacophony of weaponry echoed in the space.
Tams attack launched one soldier to his back. While her claws ripped his uniform quiet easily, the nails had a harder time slicing threw his heavy helmet and body armor. He screamed and tried to ram his gun into her rib cage, hoping to either scare her off or finish her with a quick burst to the torso.
-----------------------
The commander watched as Essex, Midas and the robots ran across the rooftops. He dispatched two more helicopters to follow the menagerie. The two larger attack helicopters caught up to the fleeing people, raking the line up and down with machine gun fire.

While the first masked soldiers down the stairs were blinded, the rest were still fine. Weapons ready they shouted various commands at the convicts, contradicting each other. When one person would shout “Get down!” another would shout “Stand up with you hands on your head!” They swiftly moved in with heavy duty cuffs and weapons aimed at heads.
The commander stood at the top of the hatch, ordering the remaining men.
“Move around the building! I want you to make sure no one gets out of here alive!”

Feliks had not listened to the Mages advice and continued to work into the night. Thankfully, it tended to get darker later in France this time of year. He had worked long into the night before finally passing out over his papers. The phone in his office rang. He stirred slightly, but pulled his hat over his head and tried to sleep more. In continued to ring until it woke him up. Frustrated he slammed his hand on the phone and pulled it to his ear. He didn’t say anything, just letting the speaker introduce himself.
“You again…alright. One moment.”
Shifting through his papers on the desk he set one aside. Reading it over one more time, he spoke.
“Lately the Underground his been picking up speed. I need you to round up some members and bring them to New Mu for processing and interrogation. What methods you use to take these people prisoner is not important to me…You have a week.”
He answered any other questions Thuel had, then hung up. He held his head in his hands. Without warning, his door was thrown open.
“Sir! We have multiple meta-humans in contact with our Civil Defense in Paragon. They teleported away, but a nearby mage was able to point us in the right direction. We need a final call however.”
“Meta-humans! You have weapons free. Contact whichever branch of the Army for support as you need. Capture them and have them transported to New Mu as soon as possible. They may have contact with the Underground. If that’s the case, they would be a great loss to their effort.”
The junior officer hung around for a few seconds, as though waiting for more direction. Feliks shouted.
“What are you waiting for! Go!”
The message was relayed overseas to Paragon. The commanding officer on scene listened to the message over his radio. He gave the single to his field commanders.
“Move in. Take prisoners if you can.”

((Yes, by all means! Sorry, I thought there was some character development going on at the moment and didnt want to interupt to horribly. I can post in an hour or two as well.))

OOC: Woah there. Who said the soldiers had stopped searching since their target seems to have vanished?

“Clear!”
One by one the houses where thoroughly searched and its occupants harassed. What had been a orderly arrest now became a hasty manhunt. Every unit knew that if they failed to capture the escapees, there would be hell to pay from the higher ups.
The plan was always the same. Smashing down the door, the soldiers would ransack the building room by room. Furniture was thrown over, and people were checked for I.D. Anyone who failed to materialize the proper documentation was shackled and thrown onto the street for later collection. Protesting against the violent invasion would result in violence. One foolish person had thrown a punch at the attacks. His arm broken in three places, he now laid on the street.

OOC: Okay, I return. First off, I posted 4 trucks and a single Helo. I believe then Khell posted with more. So there is one very high up which I posted. You guys seem to be fighting with Khells soldiers and choppers. I posted a response to the EMP since I figured a slight, absolutely meaningless amount would keep going. As in the bit of disturbance in the camera watching you.
Enjoy your helicopters.

Suddenly, the radios of the investigators went dead. The cars stalled out for a moment, and lights dimmed. The camera observing the scene fazed out for a brief moment the came back on, to far for anything nearly permanent. The pilot contacted his superiors again.
"Sir. We have possible EMP. Meta-human presence is nearly guaranteed."
"Alright, keep a close eye on it. If anything seems out of hand, we can dispatch more troops."
-----------------------------------------
The infantry on the ground, surprised by the EMP, contacted their officers. The general consensus was to proceed to the epicenter of the blast and take anyone present under arrest. Normally such situations would be handled with lethal force, but word had come from New Mu that any unnecessary deaths would be punished.

Orbiting slowly over the city, the helicopter observed every action. A magnifying lens based on the bottom watched people go about their daily business. The co pilot watched on a small screen what the camera saw, screening it for any activity. Suddenly, he jerked the pilots shoulder.
“Take a look at this!”
He turned his head just in time to see an explosion on the screen. When the smoke cleared, he saw a number of people. He noted that some seemed to be robots.
“Keep an eye on it. I’m going to report this.”
He spoke into the radio. Immediately the message was sent to the Office of Civil Defense, and intercepted by the Secret Police. The officer listened carefully to the message. He spoke to his dispatcher.
“Put the block under lockdown. Send four teams. Prepare for possible meta-human engagement.”
------------------------------------------------
Alarms started ringing over the block where the group was fighting. A recorded voice spoke in a surprising pleasant tone.
“This block has changed to lockdown status. Please stay where you are. To ensure your security, have I.D ready. Thank you. This block has …”
Four trucks arrived on the scene in a few moments. Barricades where set up. Soldiers, robotic and human alike, spread out over the outside sidewalk. They interrogated anyone nearby. If someone was unfortunate enough to not have government issued I.D, they were hand cuffed and thrown into the truck for later internment. Slowly, the group worked their way into the alleys and inner workings of the block.
Most of the soldiers were simply going about their job, showing little to no interest in causing to much conflict. However, some of the more sadistic found great pleasure in causing discomfort. These people drilled civilians for information, any discrepancy was enough to have him arrested.

Feliks traced circles on the table, lost in his own mind. His other hand fingered to pages of books recovered from various criminals. Books outlining the worlds false history. They talked of peace, unity and nations helping one another. Feliks scoffed and threw it aside. Everyone knows there was no peace before Archlich. Suddenly, a deep feeling rose from his chest. A pounding head ache came over him. He clutched his head and struggled with his pill box, his hand shaking from the incredible pain. Finally he opened it and took two pills. Calming himself, he set the box down on the table.
He shook his head. That same feeling had come over him not so long ago. Like something was horribly wrong. It didn’t matter. These thoughts were normal, Feliks had told. As long as he kept taking his pills they would not bother him. A knock on the door interrupted his musings.
“Come in. The door is unlocked!”
The Blessed One entered, holding two large crates. Setting them on the floor near the door, he bowed.
“I bring news from Archlich. He appreciates more zombies in the mines, but requests you put more emphasis on interrogation. For the moment, we are trying to avoid to many un needed deaths.”
Feliks nodded. He stood up slowly, his bones aching.
“Of course. I will double my efforts ten fold. I will create tap some resources. I can have a report on his desk by tomorrow morni-”
He was cut off by the Blessed One.
“Look at yourself Feliks. Keep working like this and you will kill yourself. And will do us no good like that. Sleep tonight.”
Sighing, Feliks nodded. He knew The Blessed One was right.
“Whatever. What’s in the boxes?”
Blessed One opened the top box. He removed some machinery and its own weight in books.
“Mind Reading prototype. Lab 17 helped cooked it up. Maybe you can put it through some fields tests.”
Felik’s eyes like up. He grabbed the device and looked at it from all angles.
“Oh yes, field tests indeed.”

Nothing went unnoticed anymore in Paragon. Either by magic or man, every meeting and grouping was eyed with a suspicion. A man moving swiftly across the street towards a crowded bar was more then enough to bring a plain clothes agent of the Secret Police. The man wore the clothes of a drifter, a scruffy beard and dirty face. In his tattered work boots was a long blade stashed away from prying eyes.
It was common knowledge that such agents existed. These murderous paladins of New Mu and Archlich had spread across the globes like a cancer. Each branch had its own rules and regulation, but all answered to the eclectic, recondite Feliks Danya. It had been his personal decree that all public meetings exceeding a permitted size should be treated as possibly traitorous, and dispersed with violence if need be.
Casually the agent made his way into the bar, quickly eyeing the mass inside. He smiled to a few strangers at a table and ordered a glass of water. Sitting in a corner, he observed for a few moments. A quick head check was all he needed to alert headquarters. He reached into a pocket and removed a pen. He wrote some random information, a grocery list, on a napkin. What was written did not matter. The clicking of the pen sent a signal to the appropriate group. In seconds, a van of infantry from the Civil Defense section of the Army of Life was dispatched. Making its way through the narrow streets and packs of aimless refugees it reached the bar. The men stepped out and opened the door. They shouted into the room.
“This building has reached the maximum allowed capacity. We advise that you dismiss immediately. Any resistance will be met with force. Thank you.”
He stepped aside and held the door open. The dozen other soldiers came into view, all waiting for any sign of violence. There would be no hesitation, not in Paragon city.

“Aceline Abella?” The name echoed over the cobble stone street and off the brick houses. A loud bang acted as the period. Slowly, the body fell limp into a puddle on the cobblestone street.
“Freidrich Manns?” Another brief silence then a gunshot. Growing weary of the process, the speaker shouted.
“Would everyone from section fifteen of this development step forward and onto the curb. Everyone else remain where you stand.”
“For crimes against Overmagus Archlich, you are condemned to death. The crimes that you are accused of are as follows: Possession of illegal weapons. Sheltering of anti-government propaganda with intent to distribute. Concealment of known rebels. Possession of banned literature. And the most heinous crime of hate towards our glorious new government. For this you are sentenced to execution and reanimation.”
Setting his list and his megaphone, the man stepped back. His long coat dragged in the collected water on the street and hung off his rounded shoulders. He showed all the signs of sleep depravation and malnutrition. His hands twitched unsteadily, a side affect of his numerous medications. He gave a insane smile to the damned and tipped his hat.
With a demented speed, his removed his sub machine gun from his back. The men around him followed suit. In the last moments of quiet, a voice rang out in the crowd.
“LONG LIVE ORANBEGA!”
Any response was drowned out. The mechanical cackle of numerous automatic weapons roared, as though taunting the final rebellious action. Lead tore through the tightly packed crowd. In one unified voice it seemed the victims cried, dying and in pain. Still, the guns carried on with their depraved laughter. One by one, like wheat before the blade, the dozens fell. Names, faces, lives. None of it mattered. Drowned in a sea of oppressive violence. Finally, one by one, the guns fell silent.
A few men lit cigarettes and took deep breathes. Others glared at the corpses, as though inviting them to move. To fight back. To give him any excuse to let loose their collective rage again. The man in the long coat only stared. He reached into his pocket and removed a small case, taking two pills. Shouldering his weapon he walked back to the curb. Prodding a few bodies with his foot he confirmed that they were all, with out a doubt, dead. He looked over a few of the bodies. One face he recognized, a woman. He had met her at the base of the New Mu capital building. They had exchanged smiles, but carried on.
One more pill, for good measure.
A voice crept out from the line of executioners.
“Is it done, Feliks?”
Taking one more look over the bodies, he nodded and gave a thumbs up. The pills took hold of his brain, numbing his emotions. He smiled.
“Its all yours!”
The official Reanimator, a powerful necromancer, stepped out, all clad in black. Milk white runes decorated his cloak. His features were concealed by an uncaring, ever present skull mask. The Reanimator went about his business. A few words uttered, a few scrolls unfurled. Slowly the bodies showed life. Each one taking in a deep gasp of air, then standing. A new crop of improved, loyal servants for the Overmagus. Everything for Overmagus Archlich. Stopping himself mid step, Feliks twirled on his heel. He laughed.
“Can’t forget the most important part!”
He jogged to the undead group. A thick mix of blood and water congealing on the pavement. He cupped his hands and dipped them in the cocktail. The liquid ran threw his fingers. It pooled in the creases of his hands, the deep trenches and scars. Again sprinting, he slammed them both against the door of Section 15. Both left heavy wet stains on the wood. He turned around, facing the nervous, scared, tired and depressed masses. He looked at the group and felt nothing but hate. Everyone was a potential traitor. An enemy in disguise, a disease on the splendid new world. Feeling their eyes on his face, he chuckled. The mob stepped back. Like a kid, he suddenly jumped and shouted.
“Boo!”
The mass of humanity ran, fleeing the insanity. Pursued only by the mad, depraved laugh of the Head of the Secret Police, Feliks Danya.

Oh yeah, I've read cell. Its alright, though I think that its no Stephen Kings best. I love his works, I own all his books. "The Shining" is still my favorite. I enjoy most horror books.

I'm just throwing in my two cents, but you could always start a time share with someone elses account, if you know what I mean. >_>

Feliks, who was previously going to protest against the vacuum idea, experienced a sudden, violent change of heart at the faries response. He turned to Experiment.
"That settles it. Suck it up."