It's easier when they look like monsters...
My first try at a little CoH fanfic. This one's based loosely on some in-game experience with my Dark/Dark scrapper. Any comments will be appreciated
You can't spell Slaughter without laughter
All your gonna do is just farm behemoths anyways.
My thoughts on November 30.
Beautifully well done. The classic hero to it's utmost. Doing what he does, not for money, not for pleasure, not for some inner drive or guilty feeling of responsibility; but just because it must be done.
Very very nice work. Write more!
Wow. That's amazing. Very nice! I love how ya make the hero seem unhappy at what he's doing and yet has to do. I agree with Tanya, write more!
Thanks, guys ^_^
I'll write more when I get everything sorted out in my head. Not sure which of my 3 PC's I want to write up first >.<
You can't spell Slaughter without laughter
All your gonna do is just farm behemoths anyways.
My thoughts on November 30.
I concurr with the other two. I will add this list to my favorites, so please continue your writing here. ^..^
Nice job on the story, me likes.
Originally Posted by Dechs Kaison See, it's gems like these that make me check Claws' post history every once in a while to make sure I haven't missed anything good lately. |
That's what I thought as I opened the door to that warehouse.
Every other villain group that forcibly "Changes" thier recruits changes them into monsters. It's easy to trounce that Headman as he proclaims that the change will benefit humanity, or crush that lesser devoured as he berates you for trying to rescue him, but the carnies...
At best, I try to skew that makeup they wear, and the costumes, to make them less human in my eyes. I know that they wouldn't have ever chosen to be criminals... But thier blind, undying loyalty to thier Matriarch even outdoes Crey.
I step into the warehouse, activating my microstatic radiation field, my "Dark Armour". Technically, I shouldn't even be able to see out of the field. That's what the goggles are for.
There's three of them, right out the gate. I must look like the stuff of nightmares, the big, unknown bad in the darkness, with glowing green eyes.
I don't think it even registers in thier brains as they come at me that they may be rushing to death. The gleefull grin on the ring mistress' face is belied by the sudden shock and fear dancing in the eyes of he attendants as they enter my field.
It must hurt like being in a microwave.
She doesn't care though. DeVore is likely watching me through this poor girl's eyes right now.
I invert the gate drive, and slow down time a little.
Then I lay into this pile of animated meat and bone with both fists. It takes a minute before she drops to my brutal assault. I swear I'll find the woman responsible for making me do this to the innocent girl.
Moving deeper into the warehouse, looking around for a body bag I know is in there, the dead cousin of a friend of mine who got a little too close to pulling his sister back out of Vanessa's circle. I hear she was the one who killed him.
My rage suddenly subsides, as I am overcome by the grief I must be causing to unknown friends and families of the dominated people of the Carnival of shadows.
I choke up a bit, and have to stop.
It's so much easier when they look like monsters...
I try to shake myself out of this misery, but I can't.
That's when I see a painted face looking at me over a crate.
[censored]! I should have known better! DeVore can demonstrate her powers through her minions, and now I'm stuck here, my body immobile, my mind wallowing in pity as I see the featureless girl call her friends over to play some darts on a me-shaped board.
I will remember my training. I am a Command and Tactics Specialist. Former leader of the ULTRA Paragon branch.
I. Will. Not. Fail!
Shaking it off, I leap over the crate and throw a sucker-punch into her face. I can HEAR the bone snapping, blood sizzling on my armour.
No, don't think. Just fight.
I am a weapon. I have no fear, no pity, no mercy.
I repeat the mantra in my head, drowning out these thoughts not my own. Let them come. Bring the pain.
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Maybe 10 minutes later, the warehouse is mostly clear. I'll propably get a medal for this. I feel like crap.
Don't know how I'm gonna catch any sleep tonight.
That's when I hear the sobbing.
Sigh. I hate this part.
I trace it down to the lower level of the warehouse, and start rooting around in the crates.
There she is. One last carnie. That straggler that always stops me from completing the mission.
She's trying to hide from me. The spacial anomoly I create makes me hard to see unless you're actually standing in it. She propably doesn't even know I'm here.
So I shut it off. She immediately gets up and turns around, surprised.
"Why are you doing this? We never hurt anyone!"
She might even believe it, but her hand is reaching for that dagger.
"Don't worry, little one. I'm only here to send you home."
I ball up my fist, surrounded in the dark energy, and plant it firmly in the backside of her skull. She drops. Trumpets blare, fanfare plays.
Mission complete.
Yeah, Right.
You can't spell Slaughter without laughter
All your gonna do is just farm behemoths anyways.
My thoughts on November 30.