Hey guys, making my first post in this section, I figured it'd be a good place to put my work in progress. It's the background story for my villain. Haven't gotten in yet, so no worries about beta talk, this is just a story for my upcoming character. I welcome any constructive critics. Like I said, it's a work in progress. I have 3 parts so far, I still need to type up the third part.
Part 1: Repercussions
Jordan Rodgers was one of Paragons unsung heroes. As a member of the Paragon City Police Department, Officer Rodgers risked his life each day to protect this City. I often wonder, if I didnt have my abilities, would I be so brave? So today we
Eric couldnt listen anymore, his fathers death angered him more than in saddened him. Listening to Statesmans rehearsed eulogy didnt help matters.
The city of heroes, Eric mocked as he turned off the VCR, some good they were. Where was a hero when my father needed them?
Eric stood from his bed in his small one room apartment; he grabbed his tattered trench coat and headed out into the dark Paragon night. It had been fifteen years since his father was killed in the line of duty; a duty the heroes of Paragon should have been performing. Eric Rodgers had spent those fifteen long years harboring a grudge for Paragons men in tights.
Eric headed down the street as the rain came. As the night life of Paragon ran for cover, Eric continued on at his own pace. Truth is the rain didnt bother him, for the last couple months it seemed the nights had gotten darker and stormier. Sirens were heard more often in the city as heroic battles continued on the streets of Paragon. It seemed criminal activity had been on the rise lately. That was fine with Eric; as far as he was concerned the heroes could use the extra workout.
As the rain came down harder, Eric stepped into a back alley and knocked on a heavy door. A small window opened and two yellow eyes peered out.
Password? grunted the husky voice of the doorman.
Repercussions. Eric quickly whispered.
The small window shut and the door could be heard unlatching from behind. It slowly crept open and Eric slipped inside. He pass through the door into a long corridor, that opened into a large room with flashing neon lights and fluorescent paint covering the walls.
Eric had been in the Superadyne Club Scene for a few years now. He was never a heavy user though. He was too smart for that, he could see what the drug turned people into
The Trolls. Eric surveyed the room for a moment and then headed to the bar.
The usual, KC! he shouted to the barkeep at the other end of the bar.
Green Peace coming up kid
KC called back.
Green Peace was a shot of vodka with a vile of Superadyne. Erics favorite was to take his medication as he would joke.
As he finished off his first shot, a group of trolls came busting into the room, chased by one of Paragons Golden Boys.
The unnamed hero made quick work of the slower and less intelligent trolls. Just as he was finishing up, someone Eric had never seen entered the room. She was a pale woman with deep dark sunken eyes and long stark white hair. She seem to float into the room and sent the hero flying with a wave of her hand. The hero slowly stood to his feet, slightly taken back by the ambush.
I am Ghost Widow of Arachnos, we are tired of your meddling
I know well enough who you are Ghost Widow
the hero weakly retorted.
Good, she whispered, then you can take this message back to your contact, My Lord Recluse is coming, you can not stop us now
And with that, she raised the hero into the air choking the life from him. He fell to the ground and had barely made a thud before the Emergency Medical Transporter had whisked him off to the hospital for treatment.
In all of the commotion, Eric failed to realize that he had become the only civilian left in the club. And he now had the full attention of Ghost Widow. She was gliding his was on a light cloud of smoke, looking at him curiously.
I sense no fear in you
Are you not afraid? she asked.
Eric didnt know what to say. He wasnt afraid
He was amazed, and envious. He had always wanted to do that to a hero.
Part 2: "As told by me."
I've seen a lot of things in my short life. I've been in and out of detention centers and rehab clinics. I've learned you can't help those who don't want the help; I certainly didn't want the help. I could also have used less of the Freedom Phlanx "motivational videos." If I have to listen to that clan of spandex sporting clowns chanting "You don't need Superdyne. Superdyne needs you" one more time, I swear I'll snap.
My finances have never been anything to brag about either. As you can imagine, not many people are willing to hire convicts or drug users, so I was forced to resort to petty theft. That led to more convictions, less jobs, and more theft. It's a nasty cycle, believe me.
I was able to get a job working on the cargo docks out in Independence Port, that provided at least enough money for my food and "recreation." It was on those docks that I became a wittiness to an event that changed my life. I witnessed the appearance of a ghost ship and a crew of cursed souls. It became very clear to me that spirits could find their way back to us and that it may be possible for me to find my father. I saw seer after seer, but none of them gave me anything of substance, and often left me without much cash.. I gave up hope of others helping me and decided to investigate the possibilities on my own. I became very engrossed in the occult and attended many rituals and services hoping to learn of a way to contact my father.
I had just about given up hope, until that night I met Ghost Widow. After the encounter with the hero that night, Ghost Widow requested that I follow her. We walked into a back room. Televisions lined the walls, and seemed to survey the entire city.
"Why are you here?" she asked me, as I looked about the dimly lit room.
"Y--You, asked me to follow you..." was all I was able to mutter.
"But why follow me? What is your motivation for life, what is your hope?" she asked.
"I haven't had a day with hope in quite some time.. My father died when I was young, and with him died my motivation."
I found myself sharing my life story with this stranger. I usually am not such an open person, but something about her eyes drew the truth out of me.
"That is a sad tale. I myself have some experience with death."
I kind of laugh under my breath expecting some tale of her murderous acts.
"I died once." she stated.
"How is that possible?" I asked, as you can imagine, this wasn't quite what I was expecting.
She stared at me and without speaking a word I heard her clearly say, "That isn't a question you need answered. Something else pushes forward in your mind. Tell me what it is you want."
"I want my father back," I choked out, "can you help me?"
"I can. Though my help is not free..Can you pay the price?" she said quietly.
"Anything!" I pleaded, "Just tell me how much you want.."
"I do not desire money.." she paused, "I desire your obedience. Give me your will, your loyalty. For it was my loyalty and love for my Lord Recluse that gave me back this life, and it will be loyalty and love that brings you back your fathers."
It was a lot to be asked, but what price could not be paid if it meant bringing back my father. I nodded my head, just as she expected I would.
She continued, "I will teach you what you need. I will give you the power to do this. But you must first learn discipline, you must first grow strong. I must be able to call on you and trust you in times of need. Your disdain for the heroes of this city will also be a great ally to you in this journey. They let your father die, but they will not be able to stop you from saving him."
When I was young, my father and I would play cops and robbers. My father of course playing the cop, and leaving me the role of the robber. He used to tease me and call me his "arch nemesis." If only he could see me now.
Part 3: "Moving up."
W.I.P.
