Rebirth 2- Revenge
Blood drools from Terry's lips in ropy strands. A red tinged snake that slithers its way down his chin, pooling for a brief moment before dropping onto his uniform jacket. He peers up through a swollen eye, gazing balefully at the figure shrouded before him, his voice somewhere between defiant and broken.
"You have no idea who your messing with." To the natural ear, Terry's voice is brave and angry. To Ash's preternatural senses.... it's just afraid.
"Actually. I do." Ash's voice is soft, gentle. Almost an intimate whisper.
"I will ERASE YOUR SORRY BUTT!" Terry roars.
A chuckle slips from Ash's lips. Soft and silky, it wraps itself around the tension in the room and seems to drain it away. He stops, dropping to a squat before Terry, and speaks.
"Yeah. That worked so very well, last time."
Claws slipped from his left wrist sheath slowly, extending inch by inch, as Ash leaned forward. Pulsing light from his eyes spilled from his mask, highlighting Terry's visage in a reddish orange tint.
"No more games Terry. No more bravado. Now... its just time to die." Ash spoke quietly.
"Wait. WAIT!" Terry scrambled for words frantically. "Just tell me what you want!!! I can get it!" The words spilled out of his lips at an unchecked pace.
Ash's hand slipped up, grasping the mask, sliding the silken material from his face. Placing his nose scant inches from the other mans, he growled softly.
"I want my life back."
Terry gaped, jaw working in stunned silence. Dinner plate sized eyes gazed at Ash with an uncomprehending gaze. Slowly the words trickled from his throat.
"Your dead."
Ash smiled. There was nothing friendly in it. At all.
"Wrong."
"But... I k..k...killed you." Terry babbled.
"Wrong."
Slowly, the left fist raised. Black claws refracting what little light tricked from the overheads.
"WAIT!" Terry screamed, "It was RECLUSES ORD..."
The words stopped as the claws slammed home. A quick flick of his wrist severed the spinal cord and shredded the diaphram. Terry would suffer. Leaning back on his heels, He spoke quietly.
"I dont care Terry."
And he watched as the life seeped from him, spreading in a crimson stain on the parking lot floor.
And still....
He felt empty.
((Well, here goes nothing. I just finalized the backstory on my main hero, and I guess this is the best place. Let me know what you think. It's a bit long, so bear with me. Enjoy, and send feedback if you like it, find a typo, or see something that can be improved 
))
A Star Is Born
Dark. No. Light. Not bright
just there. Where? Here and there? Eyes flutter but wont open
a womans gasp. The beeps of a heart monitor
not in sync
whos? Someo
Darkness
Voices Son. Gregory. Its dad, I need
I need you to watch them for me.
Brother, please, wake up
Sir
sir, he cant hear you
hes barely with us.
Son, if you can hear me
I have to go. I might not come back. Its war, now.
Dad? Marie? Another voice
who
?
A raspy voice managed to breathe out, Dad
? His own? So dry
a grip, on his hand. Could only be dad. Where?
Son?! Gregory, talk to me
Eyes fluttered open weakly, seeing the strong face of Howard Ridgevue. Dad, what
Gripping his fathers hand as tightly as he could. Where?
Youre in the hospital, Greg, there was an explosion at the lab. Youll be fine, son, just stick with us. Something
something else has happened, just yesterday. You can learn about it later. You need to know that I have to go
its war.
Wa
r?
Son
I need you to be strong. I might
I might not be able to watch over you anymore and I need
I need to know youll come through. Take care of your mother
your siblings
for me.
Sobbing in the corner
Marie?
Da..d. I
I love you, man
Gregory managed, with a weak smile.
Smiling back and gripping Gregs hand tightly, Howard fought back tears and a chuckle all at once. Thats fine, son
youre still not getting my Bud Lite. I love you, too.
Gregory felt his chest move, an attempt at laughter
Darkness
-------------------------------------
Gregory opened his eyes and heard the beep of a heart monitor. Everything was white
he was in the hospital? He had been in the lab earlier, but what
the lab! Gregory tried to rise and fell back on the hospital bed weakly, finding it hard to move. The lab
--------------------------------------
The Accident
The hum of scientific equipment, the lights of computer monitors. Gregory leaned over his station attentively in his white lab coat, monitoring the current energy readings on the new flux-inhibitor. If he could just get the inhibtor right, the cybernetics he had been developing could finally be tested, could help people like amputees. Suddenly the lab shook, and Gregory looked around pensively. He tried to raise Creys guard tower on the com unit, but only got intense static. Station B9-7-RF, calling Main Tower
calling Main Tower
anyone? He dropped the standard unit in disgust and heard a resounding BOOM and gripped the nearest workbench almost in a panic as another quake came.
Wha
? was all he had time to say as a deafening roar filled the room as the far wall exploded and the ceiling collapsed. Unable even to pray, he raised his left arm to protect himself
from the explosion or the ceiling he couldnt say. Darkness
-------------------------------------------
The hospital room came back, and Gregory saw a nurse standing worriedly over him, asking something
shaking his head slowly from side to side, he looked her in the eye.
Im sorry, I just
memories
was there an accident at Crey? Can I have some water?
The nurse handed him a cup and spoke gently, Sir
you
we were afraid you wouldnt make it.
Looking a little confused, Gregory wondered why on earth his left hand hadnt come to grasp the cup with his right. Looking over he realized it was in a cast
like his legs. He gaped slightly and mouthed like a fish, unable to speak as the nurse continued.
You were
injured
the doctors
they dont think youll walk
I
Calmly Gregory spoke up, coming out of his shock, No
no. Its
Ill be fine. I just
I want to know everything just
not right now. A weak smile met the same from the nurse, and she nodded as she walked to check on other patients.
---
The Road To Recovery, Shining From Dark Space
The next month was a blur as Gregory recovered, learning a little more every day. He learned of the accident. He learned of the lawsuit which Crey settled to avoid the courts (even the Countess didnt want this publicity at all). He learned of the Rikti attack, how his father with his group of Uncle Sams military heroes, Pattons Platoon, had been among the valiant front line against the invasion
and among the first to fall. The Platoon had been like a crew of aunts and uncles, friends that meant as much as family
and their losses each hurt nearly as much as that of his father. The rest family was safe, and heroes had come to Paragon City.
When he was finally released, he contacted Crey Industries about his research. At first, he was met with the standard brushing off, but the words volunteer test subject caught ears. Meeting a representative from Crey in his wheelchair, he had made up his mind.
Sir, you realize the legal implication of such a thing?
Yes. Ill sign any contract. What I want is simple. I finish my research on the inhibitor. I build the parts and limbs. Im the first test subject, and as a volunteer bypass all the restrictions and inspections the Countess hates. Itll be a success, and shell have a product for use thats 100% tested safe. After that, I just dont care. The patent, the extra funding money, time lost, severance, everything. The original settlement and the limbs are mine. The Countess can take the rest, and will never hear from me again. No more suits, no publicity, no media, no oh, woe is me, a categorical refusal for inclusion in any documentary or investigative journalism or movie or book, everything.
A few moments passed, and Gregory knew it was the Countess herself talking to the representative over his ear com-unit. Crey Industries finds your proposal
mutually beneficial. Sign here.
-----
A Day Of Revelation
It was bright and sunny out, and Gregory truly appreciated walking again. The synthetic skin he had designed even made him look like his old self, and he could feel again! It helped that he didnt feel cold to everyone who shook his hand now, too. He was walking by and a thug suddenly jumped out and started grabbing at a womans purse right in front of him. Without hesitation, Gregory swung a left hook (his cybernetic arm) and laid the crook out flat with a resounding Clang! Gregory mistook the womans sudden staring and started to stammer. Miss
I just
I was trying
Oh, no need to bother, Im not calling the cops. You saved me. Wheres your costume?
Gregory was stunned for a second, and gaped. Costume?
Yes, all registered deputized heroes have costumes, silly. They wouldnt be called tights all the time by hooligans otherwise.
Gregory looked left and right warily, wondering what was going on. No one had filled him in on this hero stuff. Riiiiiiiiight. Its
um
uh
The woman laughed for a second, and then looked ashamed when she realized he was serious. Oh, oh, youre not registered are you, here, just take this and it will fill you in. She scribbled something on the back and smiled as she put the brochure in Gregorys hand, holding his hand for a long moment. Then she walked away.
Um
thanks
Gregory walked slowly back to his basement laboratory (he was a successful independent research consultant now) and mulled over the brochure. As he finished the brochure, he also realized she had left a seven digit number and a scribbled note on the back. Well that was o
?!?!?! Well, she did seem to think he was funny. Why not? At least he could learn more about this hero stuff. And besides
she was cute.
-----
A Crazy Idea
After being filled in on all the hero info (and getting invited to dinner), Gregory just needed himself to be alone to think. He had never though about actually being a hero hero. But something about it called to him, and he remembered his dads voice
He had been working on an exo-suit project, one that could be used to protect workers in dangerous situations. And hed already converted a prototype over for guarding the lab. And the attack systems needed testing for the MK-4 military version. Grabbing his white and blue lamination tools, Gregory had an idea.
----
Testing The Waters
Gregory looked at himself in the mirror, wearing his MK-4 armor. It was new in white and blue
something about it reminded him of old comic books hed read, but it seemed practical instead of fantastical. He looked almost like a robot, really
but it was fairly clear it was powered armor. Well, the only way to know was to see what someone else thought. And tonight was when Sarah had invited him to dinner. And he could drop by mom and Marie the next morning before actually doing something crazy like registering as a deputized hero.
Knocking gently on the door with his oversized gauntlet, Gregory felt his breath catch as he saw Sarah standing there to greet him. She looked absolutely stunning in a dress and heels that made him wonder why she wasnt out dancing. She smiled and said, When youre done acting like a statue, you can come in you know. Im glad you found your costume!
Remembering to breathe, Gregory replied quickly, Well, you know, the clown suits at the dry cleaners and the tutu is in the wash, so
Laughing again, she took his oversized gauntlet and led him in. It looks great. So whats your name, what do you do? You cant just be called that guy or The Walking Erector Set.
Blushing a bit, Gregory timidly muttered, Uh
well
I hadnt really gotten the name thing down, I was
uh
I was hoping maybe you could help?
-----------
Whats In A Name?
The next day, Gregory took Sarah along with him and wore his armor, carrying his helmet under his arm. He could only wonder what mom would say seeing him in this. Marie opened the door, and Anthony was just inside.
Anthony was wearing his service uniform, and when he saw Gregory drawled, Okay, I dont even want to know what you did this time. If you need armor and a lawyer to protect you from mom that bad, its probably best if I dont know about it.
Har, har, good to see you too. Lets just get everything in the family room so I only have to go over things once.
Maries voice picked up loudly MOOOOOOom, Gregs here to see us! Come downstairs already!
When everyone had gathered in the family room, Gregory stood up and knew the speech hed practiced wasnt going to do. In his public speaking voice and trying not to tremble, he began Mom, Marie, Anthony, this is Sarah and
Youre getting married already, hon, its a little rushed dont you think? You didnt have to dress up like that to tell me, you know
Anthony and Marie burst out into gales of laughter as Sarah giggled uncontrollably behind him. Gregory sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation. Mom. Weve been over this. Completing my sentences before you say anything.
Oh, alright dear, but you really should look into set
MOM.
Okay, dear, calm down.
Anthony and Marie had managed to get their laughter under control by now, but still had some giggling fits as Gregory continued. You all remember the accident, and my work. I got cybernetics I made, and Ive been working on some independent contracts, powered suits to protect government workers and such. Well, I figured that I can help people around here with some of this, that this suit Im wearing now, a military prototype
I could put my energy research to use and be
well
I could get deputized.
There was a long pause as the room was quiet.
Marie spoke first, Are you sure, Greg
I mean
is it safe?
Anthony interjected, Of course its not safe, its like being a police officer. Only you face
all that stuff. I stand by it, I think he knows what hes doing.
Marie nodded, and Gregory looked at his mom, unsure of what to say. Mom?
I just
when your father went to face the Rikti
its just
I dont
Gregory spoke up softly, Mom, I understand. Its something Ive thought about. I think
I think its what dad would have wanted. The mediport system is really good, the chances of preventing anything serious happening with a mediport tag active is statistically higher than any prevention system in the world. Ill be with other heroes, constantly working on the armor to make it better. The armor can stand up to some serious punishment too. I
Gregorys voice lowered to a whisper, I just wish Id had this stuff ready for dad and the Platoon. Maybe then they wou
they wouldnt
Anthony broke the tension, You cant blame yourself, bro. I think youve got the right idea, I think dad would be proud of you making this decision.
Looking Gregory in the eye, his mother spoke in her determined voice, Anthonys right. Howard would be speechless right now, so proud of you. Just
be as careful as you can, okay?
Sarah spoke up for the first time, So, what are we going to call this lunatic in his bucket of bolts?
Oh, thank you so much for your vote of confidence, Sarah, Im so glad youre here.
She fake punched Gregory in the head, pushing him so he rocked a bit on the couch. Well, you need a good name. I dont want to know that I helped encourage some ridiculous name like Mighty Max or Serious Steve or Man who loves pudding get deputized.
Marie excitedly chimed in, Well, you were a Boy Scout right? You made Eagle? How about Super Scout?
Sarah rolled her eyes as Anthony groaned, Seriously, sis, Super Scout? He may as well paint a target on his chest and say shoot me now, Im easy! I mean, he could at least use a rank name or variation. Id think The Timid Tender Toes works best.
Marie punched Anthony in the arm, And you said I had a bad idea?
Gregory had an idea. Well, hes on the right track anyway. Or was, anyway, before his train of thought derailed at the station. How about Star Scout? Life Scout just sounds weird, Eagle Scouts kind of
well
cheesy. Its the MK-4 armor, too, so I could be Star Scout MK-4.
Sarah laughed. I like it. What do you all say we take this crazy man down to City Hall in Atlas to get registered?
And so one heros story began
-------------------------------
[edit]((certain names were wrong due to old naming conventions and missing them in the proof-read. Fixed now 
))[/edit]
((Thank you Nemo. Good story and I enjoyed it, thank you for sharing it.))
((glad I could share, and even more glad to see it turned out to be the story I intended ))
[edit] ((Actually, I'm still working on the origin story for my Peacebringer. The story is done, but the devil's in the details...I'll post it too, when I get the chance after a final edit, and it's an extension of Gregory[Star Scout MK-4]'s story since it's a continuation effect))[/edit]
nice origin stories, im gonna write mine, but i cant tonight cuz i dont have enough time.
((Alright, somethings weird with the computers memory, so instead, heres the story of my Robots/FF Mastermind, my villain main. Yeah, I'm something of a "techie" when it comes to supers 
))
The man known to the world as Professor Todesfall jolted awake in the middle of the night, sitting up with a start. He realized he was sweating and breathing heavily, and it took him a moment to gather where he was. He was in his bunk at his Antarctic base, nothing around. Unclenching his hands, he realized he had once more crushed the side of his bunk with the grip of his cybernetic arm. And then he remembered as if it had just happened, the very dream, a memory that still haunted him occasionally, memories he could never forget. The chain began, as Todesfall obsessively remembered his past
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It was a pleasant day in Hamburg, and the man Gregor Zimmerman had come to visit his family. They had been enjoying dinner in his father Hanss carpentry shop (above which was the home Gregor had grown up in and where Hans and Liza still lived, happily married). Walking in had brought back memories, as it always did. Memories of his mother telling him to pick up his building toys and mechanical projects, how proud he was when he built his first radio from spare parts and memory, the look of pride and sorrow on his fathers face the day he realized Gregor would never be a carpenter, but a builder of metal and electronics. He remembered how his father had encouraged him to learn all he could and become the best
for the one thing Hans loved more than his carpentry (other than his family) was building things to last. However, the dinner was a celebration at the end of the day, celebrating Gregors early graduation and readiness to move on in life as a creator. And it all came to a sudden crashing halt, as the world became nothing but thunder and fire.
His memory was fuzzy then, but next he had known, Gregor awoke in the hospital, severely wounded, but alive. Most of his body was burned, and the burning debris of the building had irreparably fractured his left leg. Other breaks, but ones that would heal, included the majority of his ribs, two lumbar vertebrae, his right tibia, and numerous breaks along his left arm, with a dislocated shoulder that had since been put back. The pain was dulled by the medicine, but a dull roar in the back of his head. His jaw had not broken, but had nearly been shattered and was in weak condition. As he learned of his parents death as well as his sisters, Gregor felt a burning beyond the pain, however, in the depths of his being. He burned with a fire more intense than the sun to find out who had done this, and to make them pay. The explosion had been one targeting the neighboring technology firm, (a subsidiary of Crey, and the place where Gregor had started working, preparing to move higher on the career ladder) but carelessness on the part of the saboteur had caused too large of a blast. The police investigation had found nothing more.
As Gregor recovered, and found out that he had inherited a considerable amount of money and certain effects form other relatives that his father had stored away and kept secret. There had also been a class action suit against Crey Industries (owner of the firm that had exploded) which had included Gregor and added to his new holdings. Most of the inherited funds and items were because of his grandfather, his fathers father, and it took only a small amount of reading his late ancestors journal to see why his father had kept things under wraps. The man had been crazed, seeking technology for its own sake. Ramblings went on about how he had been the truest student of science, a teacher of lethality and destruction, powerful through knowledge. Once able to walk, Gregor knew his plan.
He toiled in a private laboratory, and created replacements for his weakened and wounded body. His shattered bones were replaced, his leg and arm converted to cybernetics, his jaw supported with a prosthetic exterior aid. Crafting a small, simple drone with rudimentary AI and the equivalent of an energy pistol, Gregor spent the whole year obsessively preparing to exact his revenge. For he had found the employee that the police had not been able to, no such thief could hide behind an electronic identity and avoid his wrath.
Knowing he was about to embark on a life changing journey, Gregor realized he would need a new identity, a name for his new self. Remembering scraps of his grandfathers journal, he named himself Professor Todesfall
.Professor Lethality. Under the cover of darkness, he and his simple drone arrived at the perpetrators home, a twist of fate dictating that he was having a late dinner. It was the next night before the ordeal had ended. One week later, the Paragon S.W.A.T. had broken in, disabled the battle drone, and forced Gregor out of bed. He was under arrest for manslaughter in the first degree.
The trial was quick. The jury might have let Gregor off easily if it had been simply a swift killing for vengeance, but such was quickly proven to not be the case. Refusing to plead insanity was the nail in the coffin. The judge and jury were unwilling to let any man who would murder a fellow in cold blood after a day of tortures that are better left unmentioned. Sent to the Zig, he was sent as Professor Todesfall
since his aunt had declared before sentencing, the man Gregor Zimmerman is dead. This monster standing in his place deserves no name but that of his depraved mind. Although the authorities considered contacting the Freedom Phalanx to remove Todesfalls powered armor, the power limiters prevented anything from happening, and so it was concluded to not be worth the Phalanxs time.
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Coming out of his own thoughts, Todesfall rose. It was the beginning of another day, and he had work to do. The past was nothing, and all that lay ahead was the future of progress that awaited.
(( Yay! I can finally tell the story behind Marshall Stack!)
June 28th, 1979.
Irwin Stack was nervous. His first child would be born any minute and he was jittery and full of energy from the four pots of coffee he had drank in the last twenty-two hours. His wife, Elizabeth, was having a rough time in labor. He had been in the room with her more or less constantly since ten o'clock the previous night and had only taken a few breaks to step outside for a cigarette now and then. Over the past few hours only one though had been reverberating through his mind; I hope the mutant gene skips this generation like it did me. Just then the doctor opened the door and beckoned Irwin inside.
"It won't be long now, Mr. Stack."the doctor told him"She's fully dilated and it seems to be going smoothly."
The birth went without incident, until the moment the doctor slapped the baby's bottom to induce the first breath. instead of the standard wail, the baby produced the loudest sound Irwin had ever heard in his life. Holding his hands over his ears and watching glass all around the room explode into razor sharp shards, Irwin realized that hs worst fear had come true, his son was a mutant.
September 3rd, 1984
"Marshall, honey, it's time to get ready for school." Elizabeth Stack called up the stairs of their modest home in Baumton."Make sure you wear your galoshes, it's raining outside."
It hadn't taken long to discover that unlike most mutants, Marshall was incapable of suppressing his powers. So instead of public school Marshall's parents were paying to send him to a special school for such "gifted" children. Part of his lesson plan included instruction in sign language so that Marshall could communicate without risking destroying property or injuring someone, his parents were also being taught to understand sign language, though they did not need to use it themselves as there was nothing wrong with Marshall's ears.
The first day of school started out rough for Marshall. Immediatly the other kids sensed someone who was different and swooped in like a pack of hungry vultures. He tried to ignore them but they just picked on him more.
"Why dontcha say somethin', freak-boy?" the largest of the children taunted him "Wassamatter? You chicken?"
Marshall turned to walk away like his dad had taught him, only to be grabbed by the shoulder and spun back around.
"Don't walk away when I'm talking to you, freak-boy!" the large bully growled "You're gonna get a whoopin for that!"
The large bully drew his fist back and punched Marshall square in the nose. At the sight of his own blood the normally passive boy became enraged and responded the only way he knew how.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!" he shouted at the bully, who was blasted twenty feet backwards and through a fence, had the boy not been a budding tanker he would have been seriously injured or even killed.
The principal came rushing outside to see what was going on.
"What the hell was that?!?!" the normally calm lady said "It sounded like I had a freight train rushing through my head!"
The quiet girl who had been watching unnoticed spoke up.
"That boy over there in the fence kept picking on him,"she said in a timid voice "so he yelled at him."
And so Marshall made his first friend, a telepathic girl named Josie Wallace.
June 5th, 1997
It was the last day of school at Middleson's School for Gifted Children, and Marshall was overjoyed to finally be done with tests and homework. In fact he planned to take Josie, who had been his girlfriend since freshman year, out to dinner and a concert in celebration of their newly acquired freedom. After the concert, which was at a club in King's Row, Marshall and Josie were walking back to the train to head home, when suddenly Josie grabbed Marshall's arm and told him to walk faster.
"Somebody is planning on doing something bad near us," she whispered to him"we should get to the train as fast as we can."
No sooner did she speak than three men in white clothes and skull masks stepped out of an alley in front of them.
"Just do what we say and no one will get hurt." the apparent leader told them "We just want your money and valuables and you can be on your way."
"Do what they say Marshall," Josie told him "He means it."
"That's right, kid," the thug said "I do mean it."
Marshall and Josie handed over everything except a necklace that Josie's mother had given her.
"Please let me keep this," Josie pleaded with the thugs "it's the only thing I have left of my mother, it's not worth much."
"I said everything!" the lead thug shouted and slapped Josie, grabbing the necklace as she reeled backwards.
That was too much for Marshall. After training himself for so long not to use his powers, he didn't even think to use them now, he just lashed out with his fist and connected with the lead thug. One of the other thugs, already jittery, squeezed the trigger of his cheap submachine gun by accident, spraying bullets in a wide swath across the sidewalk, missing Marshall completely but stitching a line of puncture wounds across Josie's abdomen. Marshall stared in disbelief for a second or two, unable to believe what had just happened. Then he screamed. Afterwards the only thing left of the thugs were broken corpses laying fifty feet from Marshall and Josie, who had lapsed into a coma. She died three days later.
Marshall was devastated by the loss of the only person he had yet been able to communicate with. Slipping into a deep depression, he barely noticed the events of the much publicised trial he was subjected to. He didn't even react to the verdict of acquittal by reason of self defense. Withdrawing into himself he decided that the only way to prevent that from happening again was to learn how to use his powers. He spent nine long years perfecting his control, and learning how to use the equipment that he obtained from an old friend of his father's who worked for D.A.T.A. Blaming himself still for Josie's death he registered as a hero and hit the streets on a personal mission of penance for the girl he got killed.
Quote:
|
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. |
((Before you guys read this, you should know I am only a 12-year-old writer that writes for enjoyment. So, this is probably not going to be that good but, here goes nothing! Also, even though my character is Natural origin, I stated he is Magic because it fits my in-game description))
Back Alley Scrapper-Magic Broadsword/Invulnerability Scrapper
It was dark, really dark. Kyon Smith lay there in sub-conciousnous, trying to stay awake...trying...trying... His eyelids closed, his mind went blank, his soul went cold.
He awoke the next morning laying on the floor...'What was he doing on the floor?' he pondered. But wait, something was different...he didn't smell the Lilac Glade Air Freshener, he didn't hear the sizzling of his wife's cooking...something was different... He tried to open his eyes, but although he felt his eyelids move, they stayed shut. Shut? No, they were open. He was enveloped in neverending darkness. He tried to breathe but the darkness just moved closer, suffocating him, filling his lungs with shadows. He panicked, but the darkness held him firm to the ground...He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. But wait! In the distance, a glow! No, it was just his imagination. His mind going insane in the darkness. But then, the glow got brighter, the glow got bigger! It was real! He cried for it to help him, but no words came out. The light suddenly stopped, and grew fainter and dimmer, smaller and smaller. ' WAIT!!!! ' his mind shouted! ' PLEASE!!! HELP ME!!! PLEASE HELP!!! ' It was then that the light stopped once again, and then rapidly grew faster and faster! Speeding towards him! And then, the darkness was gone. All he saw was pure light. And the voice, the voice he remembered had spoken to him. It had said, "Hello Kyon. Don't worry, you are safe here. You are safe...you are safe..."
"I am safe." He finally replied.
"The car crash, killed you, Kyon--"
"WHA--"
"Have no fear. We have saved your family. They are safe with ss. But we saw your true soul, Kyon. We saw your potential, therefore we gifted you. We gifted you with the Power. The Power to truly love..."
Kyon crossed the busy Atlas Park street, heading to City Hall. He donned his traditional clothes, black tanktop, blue baggy pants, black sunglasses, and, strangest of all, his black metal gaunlets. In his hand was a blade. It was three inches wide, two inches thick, and weighed in at around two-hundred pounds! As he walked, he seemed to bend the light around him, producing fantastical colors and beams of light. He walked up the steps and saw the enormous statue of Atlas.
"So this is the City of Heroes, eh?" he chuckled to himself.
The End
((The reason I ended where I did, was because no one knows much about the famed Back Alley Scrapper. He is a man of shadows and trusts almost no one. Explore the realms of your imagination to uncover the rest of his story. Have fun! =) ))
Scarf_Girl�s Official Kid Brother!
(( I would love to hear the story of everyones origins. So please, feel free to leap in here. Tell the story of the birth of your hero, villian, vigilante, or nuetral non interested bi partisan party.
Ive seen some incrediable authors out there, and hope you guys will join in. And forgive the repost, but when I post part two, it wont make much sense without part one. ))
Rebirth- Part one
Love you....
The words echoed in his mind. The last words that meant anything to him. The whispered promise of a past he could never return to. They danced within the velvet black of his unconcious, slipping an insidious hold in his soul, sparking emotions. Such power in those emotions as they birthed thoughts... memories. Memories of the past. Memories of what was his....
Love you....
The soft velvet touch of her lips against his. The intense heat of bodies pressed to one another in frenzied lovemaking..... such sorrow...... it burst within his mind, agonized motes of red light that fired though his soul.....
Causing his arm to twitch.
Dont worry about it Tony, Ill take realllll good care of her.
Anger. Rage. Fury. Enough to sear the heart as the vision of that leer passed through his mind. The knowledge that he could not protect.... could not even help..... frustrated motes of purple that flashed through his mind... his hand clenching to a fist.
No comfort. No warm light. Pure red. The pain of hatred and anger.
Love you baby.... forever....
Both hands clench to fists.... his back arching as the hate courses through him. It is a rebirth, but there is nothing natural at all about it. Claws spring from his wrists, tearing apart the flesh in ragged goblets. Blood sprays against the tight, silent confines. A splatter of wet against wood.
"God no." The words are a ragged whisper, from a voice unused for far too long.
And then the memories crash mercilessly into him.
"Hey Terry, where we headed tonight?" Tony asked.
"We got patrol out of Kings Row. Something about some new little group called Arachnos making hit and runs in the territory."
Tony turned his head, cocking it to one side as a puzzled look crossed his features.
"Uh. Whats wrong with the costumes taking that?" He asked.
"Cant expect em to be everywhere at once, partner. Besides, we are paid to Protect and Serve, remember?"
Tony's laughter is slight, uncovincing as he inclines his head in defeat. " Yeah, yeah.... so long as you got my back."
"Always..." Terry smiles.
But there is nothing friendly in that smile. It is the smile of a predator.
Sobs tear from his body. Anquish and grief threaten to rip apart the fragile anchors that hold him to this world, even as tears refuse to come from dead and useless ducts. The loss is heavy.... a tangible and real force that threatens to press the unnatural life from his body, until the memories turn... and are lead to another path.
The fist slams into his face. Bone strikes bone, slicing tender flesh from under his eye. Blood hits wetly against the cement, and Tony thinks crazily of ink blots some head shrinker showed him after a shooting.
"Dont worry partner. Ill take care of Sharon, reallll good." Terrys mocking laugh cuts at him
He looks up through swollen eyes, as the hellions on either side of him hold his arms. His head still spins at the sudden change of events, how he went from friend and partner to sucker in the short span of seconds he cannot seem to wrap his mind around.
But here he is. Bleeding, and broken in places he should not be. His friend above him.... and the whole thing takes on a surreal quality to it. Something that happened.... but never should have. Something that was somehow fundamentally wrong in the nature of the universe.
"Im going to hurt your wife, Tony." Terry whispered. "And I want you to die, knowing that."
The gun appears in Terry's hand as if by magic. It is a large, brutal thing. All black steel and chrome that seems to absorb all the light around it. The barrel is a gaping maw that threatens to swallow him whole, as it is pressed to his head. The voice of his once friend, partner is malicious... evil in a way that he has never heard, as Terry speaks.
" My only regret is you wont be there to see it." He says, pulling the trigger.
Darkness.
The sobs taper away, as he opens his eyes for the first time again. The despair is dipped in molten rage, twisting its way through his body, as his body knits itself back together again. Muscles weave back together, as ligaments slither through his body again, binding bones to bones.... the process is slow.... some measured in time, others in agony as his body regains the life it once possessed.
The rage boils with each moment of pain, threatening to spill over, out.... threatening to consume him.... but finally settling for an escape through his eyes, as they begin to glow an unholy red.
Claws tear through wood like so much cardboard, tunneling easily through six feet of earth and exploding into the night, as the storm begins.
Lightning slashes through the sky, strobing the cemetary with light as Tony staggers from the place of his rebirth. Gobbets of muddy earth slip from his nude shoulders like amniotic fluid. A newborn he is not. Someones precious bundle of joy he is most definately not.
Claws flick from sheathes as he stares into the thunderstorm. The fury of nature echoing the turmoil in his soul. His words are soft, melodic, and filled with infinite regret as they are carried on the winds.
"Death..... is only the beginning."