[Nic spoke of the accident since the funeral and it drew upon a painful irony of how they were both involved in the same wreck and had their lives severely changed as a result of it. ]
“I didn’t loose any loved ones during the crash but as a result, I did end up having to loose a beloved part of my career. I’m so sorry about your family. I don’t know what I would do if I lost Teresa. After that head trauma, things just really started changing. I, hmm, I got faster. But it started with my thoughts first. I was thinking through math problems and things much faster than I ever had before. The next thing you know I’m swatting at flies during picnics and not a single one could escape me. This whole change is what basically got me interested in studying the brain further especially in instances of trauma. Unfortunately, all this came with a serious drawback.”
He holds out his hand palm down and tries to hold it steady but his hand shakes almost vigorously.
“It’s real hard to remain a neurosurgeon with hands like these.”
“Well that could explain why after I got my head notched in by an explosion, all of a sudden my body could put itself back together in a matter of moments. It’s ridiculous. Nowadays, I eat like a maniac and every time I get hurt, shortly after healing I’m starving to death.”
“Sounds like your body’s metabolism has sky-rocketed and with it, your healing has too. Sounds like you should never skip a meal and always have access to lots of water.”
Daniels chuckles a little bit at the thought of this, but is definitely taking Carl’s hypothesis into serious consideration.
“So the plan is to get to LA and then what?”
“I have to know that I can trust you. What you are about to find out, Reaver could never know. He would stop to no end to get what he wants if he ever finds out about this.”
“Ok ok, you’ve got me too interested to mess this up. Also, if you haven’t already noticed, I’m pretty screwed. If he finds out what has happened to me, him and that Doctor are going to pick me apart until they know how to copy me and make a useful weapon out of me. This whole cluster fuck with the factions is going to be the end of us all.”
“Factions? What factions?”
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
A Series of Unfortunate Events Part: 41
[Hardly able to breathe , Render wheezes out his words.
“Ok, ok, what do you want?”
Reaver’s half illuminated face grins menacingly.
“You…”]
Monday 3-12-2012
“Ok, we can either help each other or we can both die here son. It’s your choice.”
Without words Daniels is on his feet and ready to run.
“Good”
Carl dashes towards the road a few hundred feet away with impeccable speed and grace. Daniels can’t possibly keep up, but is running as fast as he can. By the time he reaches Carl’s car, Carl is already buckled in and has the car running. Daniels, quickly maneuvers around to the passenger side of the vehicle and gets in. Before the he could even shut the door Carl has already begun to accelerate well beyond 60 mph.
“So forgive me for asking this ridiculous question but, where on earth are we going.”
“Well that depends on if your boss figures out that I have you fleeing with me.”
At this thought, Daniels turns to look through the back window of the car to see if he can see the position of the chopper.
“Well?”
Carl almost impatiently awaits a reply from Daniels.
“I think he’s too busy searching the ground to look up and even notice us. Besides I doubt he even had a chance to even notice before this four wheeled rocket put us a mile away. Jeezuz. Where the hell did you get this thing?”
Carl chuckles a little bit as he replies.
“I practically built it. Anyway, to answer you previous question, we’re heading to Los Angeles and no we’re not driving there.”
Laughingly Daniels turns to face forward and slumps back down into his seat.
“It’s not that it would have taken very long in this thing anyway, but it’s good to know I won’t have to be stuck in a car for god knows how long.”
As the scenery outside goes by in a blur the two sit in the relative silence of the interior of the car for almost ten minutes before any more communication was accomplished. Daniels turns and examines Carl as he drives fixated on the road.
“So what’s your name?”
“Wha-? How do you not know the name of the man you are hunting down?”
“Your target name was Fox and that’s all I needed to know or really cared to know. It wasn’t like I had to find you from scratch. They basically just pointed out an said ‘catch him’. Pretty simple.”
Carl gives a slow affirmative nod while tucking his lips for a moment.
“I am Doctor Carl Smart. And you sir, you are?”
While still starring at the road, Carl extends his hand out for a handshake.
“Wow this is definitely cliché and corny”
Nic provides carl with a firm handshake while responding.
“Nicholas ‘Nic’ Daniels”
“Nice to meet you Mr. Daniels”
The two get another good laugh for a moment. It’s a little over eighty miles to the airfield that Carl is headed to and during the drive the two men exchange life stories and listen intently to each other’s history. It was the first time Nic spoke of the accident since the funeral and it drew upon a painful irony of how they were both involved in the same wreck and had their lives severely changed as a result of it.
“Ok, ok, what do you want?”
Reaver’s half illuminated face grins menacingly.
“You…”]
Monday 3-12-2012
“Ok, we can either help each other or we can both die here son. It’s your choice.”
Without words Daniels is on his feet and ready to run.
“Good”
Carl dashes towards the road a few hundred feet away with impeccable speed and grace. Daniels can’t possibly keep up, but is running as fast as he can. By the time he reaches Carl’s car, Carl is already buckled in and has the car running. Daniels, quickly maneuvers around to the passenger side of the vehicle and gets in. Before the he could even shut the door Carl has already begun to accelerate well beyond 60 mph.
“So forgive me for asking this ridiculous question but, where on earth are we going.”
“Well that depends on if your boss figures out that I have you fleeing with me.”
At this thought, Daniels turns to look through the back window of the car to see if he can see the position of the chopper.
“Well?”
Carl almost impatiently awaits a reply from Daniels.
“I think he’s too busy searching the ground to look up and even notice us. Besides I doubt he even had a chance to even notice before this four wheeled rocket put us a mile away. Jeezuz. Where the hell did you get this thing?”
Carl chuckles a little bit as he replies.
“I practically built it. Anyway, to answer you previous question, we’re heading to Los Angeles and no we’re not driving there.”
Laughingly Daniels turns to face forward and slumps back down into his seat.
“It’s not that it would have taken very long in this thing anyway, but it’s good to know I won’t have to be stuck in a car for god knows how long.”
As the scenery outside goes by in a blur the two sit in the relative silence of the interior of the car for almost ten minutes before any more communication was accomplished. Daniels turns and examines Carl as he drives fixated on the road.
“So what’s your name?”
“Wha-? How do you not know the name of the man you are hunting down?”
“Your target name was Fox and that’s all I needed to know or really cared to know. It wasn’t like I had to find you from scratch. They basically just pointed out an said ‘catch him’. Pretty simple.”
Carl gives a slow affirmative nod while tucking his lips for a moment.
“I am Doctor Carl Smart. And you sir, you are?”
While still starring at the road, Carl extends his hand out for a handshake.
“Wow this is definitely cliché and corny”
Nic provides carl with a firm handshake while responding.
“Nicholas ‘Nic’ Daniels”
“Nice to meet you Mr. Daniels”
The two get another good laugh for a moment. It’s a little over eighty miles to the airfield that Carl is headed to and during the drive the two men exchange life stories and listen intently to each other’s history. It was the first time Nic spoke of the accident since the funeral and it drew upon a painful irony of how they were both involved in the same wreck and had their lives severely changed as a result of it.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
A Series of Unfortunate Events Part: 40
[Starring at the watch in his hand, Nic chokes back his tears for the last time.
“Let’s go. We can’t sit here and hurt forever. That’s prolly the only thing my old man ever taught me.”]
2012
“This has become far too much of a reoccurring thought: Where the hell am I and what is going on?”
Render hardly manages to keep his thoughts concealed in his head as the only thing that exits his mouth as he thinks this is a pathetic groan.
A deep growly voice draws Render’s concentration momentarily.
“I imagine you are wondering where you are. Those shock sticks are quite effective at disruptive of a man’s ability to remember his former actions”
“Wh- why?”
“Easy. You have extraordinary abilities and I am going to find out how this country can best utilize them. No games, no lies just going to honestly figure out how you are wired up to be so, darn, EFFECTIVE.”
Sgt. Reaver begins to chuckle lightly at his seemingly villainous speech.
“I’m sorry for the odd and cliché entrance, I thought it would be kind of fun. Anyway, I am not one to really explain much to any one subject, but you have an interesting enough ability where I am highly interested beyond my normal scope of desire to learn what is going on”
“I swear I said I wasn’t going to be anyone’s guinea pig”
“You aren’t a guinea pig Mr. Reyes. You are an artifact that should be studied.”
As Render’s vision once again clarifies itself from a blur, he finds himself strapped into what appears like an electric chair of sorts. The room is dark and judging by the he faintly illuminated objects in the room, he’s in some kind of a hotel.
“I am guessing this is like hotel California or something?”
“No sir. You will check out of here when you have provided us with the knowledge we need.”
“Us?”
“Oh yes, we are all familiar here. It’s quite fine. You will remember soon enough who we all are.”
“Ok this is just bizarre. You tell me you are not about the cartoonish villain shit but you are damn near speaking in riddles to me. You really ought to have yourself a nice cool tall frosty ice cold glass of SHUT THE FUCK UP!”
Render jerks forward in the chair and focuses his thoughts to render himself into a different material. He begins to glow as though becoming red hot. The straps begin to start smoking and shortly ignite. Almost straining to emit the words, Render stares at Reaver’s partially visible face with a glowing vengeance.
“All- you- had- to do. Wa- was not to kill her. And you would have saved your life.”
As he peels through the burning straps and stands on the carpet igniting the carpet as he moves. Sgt. Reaver backpedals into the darkness further and out of his sight.
“Don’t run you coward. This is just the beginning of your end”
“A cool glass of water right?” Another voice comes from the darkness.
“What do you intend to gain from a cool glass of water. Yes. Just water. I don’t think water will do you any good right about now, my friend. You have to concentrate too hard when it comes to water. It flows too freely. It is, unbridled”
“Who the hell are you? What’s your fixation with water you freak.”
“Just think…Water my friend. A cool glass of water right? …A cool glass of-“
Before the strange voice could finish their last statement, Render begins to choke on what seems to be his own saliva, the flames almost instantly are extinguished and shortly it starts to sound like he is gagging on water. Reaver steps forward holding out a bucket just in time for render to vomit what seems like liquidized flesh. The strange voice interjects amidst the now frantic chocking and instructs Render on how to right the situation.
“Go ahead, drink it all back in and then I’ll save you from your dilemma.”
Without hesitation Render consumes his own vomit without letting a single drop escape him.
“Now you’re human again. Solid and sound. Flesh and bone. Correct?”
Exhausted Render falls backwards into the smoldering chair.
Hardly able to breathe , Render wheezes out his words.
“Ok, ok, what do you want?”
Reaver’s half illuminated face grins menacingly.
“You…”
“Let’s go. We can’t sit here and hurt forever. That’s prolly the only thing my old man ever taught me.”]
2012
“This has become far too much of a reoccurring thought: Where the hell am I and what is going on?”
Render hardly manages to keep his thoughts concealed in his head as the only thing that exits his mouth as he thinks this is a pathetic groan.
A deep growly voice draws Render’s concentration momentarily.
“I imagine you are wondering where you are. Those shock sticks are quite effective at disruptive of a man’s ability to remember his former actions”
“Wh- why?”
“Easy. You have extraordinary abilities and I am going to find out how this country can best utilize them. No games, no lies just going to honestly figure out how you are wired up to be so, darn, EFFECTIVE.”
Sgt. Reaver begins to chuckle lightly at his seemingly villainous speech.
“I’m sorry for the odd and cliché entrance, I thought it would be kind of fun. Anyway, I am not one to really explain much to any one subject, but you have an interesting enough ability where I am highly interested beyond my normal scope of desire to learn what is going on”
“I swear I said I wasn’t going to be anyone’s guinea pig”
“You aren’t a guinea pig Mr. Reyes. You are an artifact that should be studied.”
As Render’s vision once again clarifies itself from a blur, he finds himself strapped into what appears like an electric chair of sorts. The room is dark and judging by the he faintly illuminated objects in the room, he’s in some kind of a hotel.
“I am guessing this is like hotel California or something?”
“No sir. You will check out of here when you have provided us with the knowledge we need.”
“Us?”
“Oh yes, we are all familiar here. It’s quite fine. You will remember soon enough who we all are.”
“Ok this is just bizarre. You tell me you are not about the cartoonish villain shit but you are damn near speaking in riddles to me. You really ought to have yourself a nice cool tall frosty ice cold glass of SHUT THE FUCK UP!”
Render jerks forward in the chair and focuses his thoughts to render himself into a different material. He begins to glow as though becoming red hot. The straps begin to start smoking and shortly ignite. Almost straining to emit the words, Render stares at Reaver’s partially visible face with a glowing vengeance.
“All- you- had- to do. Wa- was not to kill her. And you would have saved your life.”
As he peels through the burning straps and stands on the carpet igniting the carpet as he moves. Sgt. Reaver backpedals into the darkness further and out of his sight.
“Don’t run you coward. This is just the beginning of your end”
“A cool glass of water right?” Another voice comes from the darkness.
“What do you intend to gain from a cool glass of water. Yes. Just water. I don’t think water will do you any good right about now, my friend. You have to concentrate too hard when it comes to water. It flows too freely. It is, unbridled”
“Who the hell are you? What’s your fixation with water you freak.”
“Just think…Water my friend. A cool glass of water right? …A cool glass of-“
Before the strange voice could finish their last statement, Render begins to choke on what seems to be his own saliva, the flames almost instantly are extinguished and shortly it starts to sound like he is gagging on water. Reaver steps forward holding out a bucket just in time for render to vomit what seems like liquidized flesh. The strange voice interjects amidst the now frantic chocking and instructs Render on how to right the situation.
“Go ahead, drink it all back in and then I’ll save you from your dilemma.”
Without hesitation Render consumes his own vomit without letting a single drop escape him.
“Now you’re human again. Solid and sound. Flesh and bone. Correct?”
Exhausted Render falls backwards into the smoldering chair.
Hardly able to breathe , Render wheezes out his words.
“Ok, ok, what do you want?”
Reaver’s half illuminated face grins menacingly.
“You…”
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
A Series of Unfortunate Events Part: 39
[After rendering Jason unconscious the nurse returns to the nurse’s station. She takes down a few notes and then dials an extension on the phone. She converses very briefly with someone on the phone noting that Jason was awake and has been safely incapacitated.]
2008
Nic stares down at the pocket watch in his hand. He could feel the ticking in his hand and is taking notice to the fact that his heart is beating at what appears to be exactly the same pace. It’s been exactly a week since the accident and he still stares at the watch for what seems like hours hoping that he could maybe roll time back just far enough to where he could remember what it’s like to feel again. He feels numbed almost to the core and can’t even remember what it was like to be angry sad or happy prior to the day of the accident. His arm is riddled with small wounds that are the telltale signs of his mental anguish as he has been cutting himself in an attempt to fell something more than the nothingness he has been experiencing since shortly after he watched Keisha die.
The house seems relatively unchanged since that day aside from the flowers scattered about and the disturbances caused by family friends attempting to clean up a little bit and being unfamiliar with the house.
In the doorway stands Stan Reicher, Candace’s good friend. He watches Nic as he sits on the couch and stares at the watch. He wants to give him all the space he needs but it is time to get a move on to the funeral.
“Stan” Nic speaks down towards the floor softly but just audible enough to startle Stan.
“Yeah?” Straightening himself out from a position leaning in the front entry doorway, Stan slowly starts to approach Nic.
“You loved her right?”
“Of course I did Nic. She was practically my best friend”
“But I mean, you loved her right?”
Stan sighs and sits down on the couch next to Nic. He too is now starring downward at the floor. His words tremble at the end of his sentence as he speaks.
“God. Was it that obvious?”
Laughingly, Nic replies
“Obvious was an understatement. You two were ridiculous how you played the role of being just friends.”
“I really thought she wasn’t into me to that extent and that I was playing off how much I cared about her well.”
“No man, you sucked at it. But so did she... Why didn’t you do something about it?”
“Ha, you want me to be your step dad or something?”
“Hey don’t mess with me on the father crap. I’m just saying it was obvious that you two had some kinda thing going on.”
Stan begins to loose his composure further as the two continue to converse.
“What did we do to deserve this? Why should we have to loose the ones we have loved the most in our lives.”
Starring at the watch in his hand, Nic chokes back his tears for the last time.
“Let’s go. We can’t sit here and hurt forever. That’s prolly the only thing my old man ever taught me.”
2008
Nic stares down at the pocket watch in his hand. He could feel the ticking in his hand and is taking notice to the fact that his heart is beating at what appears to be exactly the same pace. It’s been exactly a week since the accident and he still stares at the watch for what seems like hours hoping that he could maybe roll time back just far enough to where he could remember what it’s like to feel again. He feels numbed almost to the core and can’t even remember what it was like to be angry sad or happy prior to the day of the accident. His arm is riddled with small wounds that are the telltale signs of his mental anguish as he has been cutting himself in an attempt to fell something more than the nothingness he has been experiencing since shortly after he watched Keisha die.
The house seems relatively unchanged since that day aside from the flowers scattered about and the disturbances caused by family friends attempting to clean up a little bit and being unfamiliar with the house.
In the doorway stands Stan Reicher, Candace’s good friend. He watches Nic as he sits on the couch and stares at the watch. He wants to give him all the space he needs but it is time to get a move on to the funeral.
“Stan” Nic speaks down towards the floor softly but just audible enough to startle Stan.
“Yeah?” Straightening himself out from a position leaning in the front entry doorway, Stan slowly starts to approach Nic.
“You loved her right?”
“Of course I did Nic. She was practically my best friend”
“But I mean, you loved her right?”
Stan sighs and sits down on the couch next to Nic. He too is now starring downward at the floor. His words tremble at the end of his sentence as he speaks.
“God. Was it that obvious?”
Laughingly, Nic replies
“Obvious was an understatement. You two were ridiculous how you played the role of being just friends.”
“I really thought she wasn’t into me to that extent and that I was playing off how much I cared about her well.”
“No man, you sucked at it. But so did she... Why didn’t you do something about it?”
“Ha, you want me to be your step dad or something?”
“Hey don’t mess with me on the father crap. I’m just saying it was obvious that you two had some kinda thing going on.”
Stan begins to loose his composure further as the two continue to converse.
“What did we do to deserve this? Why should we have to loose the ones we have loved the most in our lives.”
Starring at the watch in his hand, Nic chokes back his tears for the last time.
“Let’s go. We can’t sit here and hurt forever. That’s prolly the only thing my old man ever taught me.”
Monday, November 9, 2009
A Series of Unfortunate Events Part: 38
[ Daniels Immediately knew that it was Sgt. Reaver returning to look for him with the stealth drive systems on the chopper turned off so as to make it easier for Daniels to position himself to be found.]
2008
The still and darkness of the hospital seems consume all sounds that are attempted. Even the light that is entering through the louvers of the blinds seems to be diminished by the stiff darkness that looms within the room. In the pale light cast over the bed by the combination of the light entering from the window and the glow of the monitoring equipment bedside, slight movement can be noted. The sheets on the bed raise and lower in rhythm with Jason’s somewhat erratic breathing. A clock on the wall shortly strikes 11:30. The low click of the minute hand falling upon the 6 seems as thought it was the one thing just loud enough draw Jason out of what everyone was sure was a coma. Jason springs into an upright position and looks about the room much more calmly than his initial actions suggest. His seemingly calm demeanor is belied by the high activity levels on the heart monitor.
Not long after his rising, a nurse enters the room. She immediately urges Jason to lay back down and to try to remain calm.
“Do you know where you are?”
“Judging by your scrubs, I’m in a hospital.”
“good” The nurse cracks a smile that is barely visible in the light entering from the open door.
“Soooo I passed out and hit my head. What’s the big deal?”
“I see. Do you know what day it is today?”
“Hmm, I doubt it is even sill today. Last I remember it was morning and it is now dark all over again.”
“Ok, so what is your best guess as to what day it is?”
“Ugh, oh god, uhm… well that was about Saturday when I went out, so it’s gotta be about Monday.”
“Ok”
The nurse takes his blood pressure and his temperature then leaves the room momentarily. She later returns with syringe and begins to inject its contents into Jason’s I V.
“Whoa, wait a minute. What’s that?”
“It’s just some antibiotics and something to help you sleep”
“I’ve been asleep long enough I think I really shou-…”
Before he could finish his sentence the contents of the syringe were running their course and Jason was once again unconscious.
After rendering Jason unconscious the nurse returns to the nurse’s station. She takes down a few notes and then dials an extension on the phone. She converses very briefly with someone on the phone noting that Jason was awake and has been safely incapacitated.
2008
The still and darkness of the hospital seems consume all sounds that are attempted. Even the light that is entering through the louvers of the blinds seems to be diminished by the stiff darkness that looms within the room. In the pale light cast over the bed by the combination of the light entering from the window and the glow of the monitoring equipment bedside, slight movement can be noted. The sheets on the bed raise and lower in rhythm with Jason’s somewhat erratic breathing. A clock on the wall shortly strikes 11:30. The low click of the minute hand falling upon the 6 seems as thought it was the one thing just loud enough draw Jason out of what everyone was sure was a coma. Jason springs into an upright position and looks about the room much more calmly than his initial actions suggest. His seemingly calm demeanor is belied by the high activity levels on the heart monitor.
Not long after his rising, a nurse enters the room. She immediately urges Jason to lay back down and to try to remain calm.
“Do you know where you are?”
“Judging by your scrubs, I’m in a hospital.”
“good” The nurse cracks a smile that is barely visible in the light entering from the open door.
“Soooo I passed out and hit my head. What’s the big deal?”
“I see. Do you know what day it is today?”
“Hmm, I doubt it is even sill today. Last I remember it was morning and it is now dark all over again.”
“Ok, so what is your best guess as to what day it is?”
“Ugh, oh god, uhm… well that was about Saturday when I went out, so it’s gotta be about Monday.”
“Ok”
The nurse takes his blood pressure and his temperature then leaves the room momentarily. She later returns with syringe and begins to inject its contents into Jason’s I V.
“Whoa, wait a minute. What’s that?”
“It’s just some antibiotics and something to help you sleep”
“I’ve been asleep long enough I think I really shou-…”
Before he could finish his sentence the contents of the syringe were running their course and Jason was once again unconscious.
After rendering Jason unconscious the nurse returns to the nurse’s station. She takes down a few notes and then dials an extension on the phone. She converses very briefly with someone on the phone noting that Jason was awake and has been safely incapacitated.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
A Series of Unfortunate Events Part: 37
[No, I KNOW. I know what situation I’m in and really only have gotten a chance to see it from the other side since this accident. I have tried to help end this in other so many ways. Believe me. I have tried…]
Carl turns to face sun making it’s way up and of over the trees casting a series of patterned shadows on the ground. Amidst the shadows he notices Daniel’s Sidearm laying in the fallen leaves just a few feet away. He turn back to Daniels and asks
“What do we do now?”
“You die”
Daniels utters his words in such a calm manner Carl almost doesn’t catch it. Daniels springs to his newly healed legs and lunges for Carl who immediately side-steps him and throws him to the ground. Daniels returns to his feet and beings to throw a barrage of punches and kicks at Carl who gracefully dodges and blocks them with hardly an effort made.
“Are you tired yet?”
Carl poses this question while still blocking every attempt Daniel’s makes to harm him.
“I could very well continue to block you and pick up this gun and shoot you long before you could land a single punch. You have to remember we are both gifted individuals. I can’t permanently hurt you and you are too slow to hurt me.”
Daniels grimaces at Carl’s logic and desists from attacking him. He then proceeds to sit down on the ground and laugh. Carl stands puzzled at the sight and begins to chuckle lightly.
“What’s so funny?”
Barely able to vocalize his thoughts through the laughter, he chokes out his words.
“C-C’mon, you have to think this shit is funny. Could you imagine watching this shit go down?”
The attempt to explain only makes the situation funnier to Daniels and he begins to loose his words all over again trying to explain. His laughter increases in volume and he begins to roll over onto his side on the ground. Tears begin to form in his eyes and roll down his cheek. Watching, Carl begins to chuckle a little harder and is slowly succumbing the seemingly infectious laughter as Daniels tries to produce more comprehensible words through the convulsions of his now hysterical laughter
“Oh man, oooohhh man! I had to look like a huge dumb ass throwing punches and getting blocked every time. I mean this is like a comic book or cartoon. Oh god…”
Carl at this point completely surrenders to the laughter. The two laugh for what seemed like five minutes before they were both startled by the sound of an approaching helicopter. Daniels Immediately knew that it was Sgt. Reaver returning to look for him with the stealth drive systems on the chopper turned off so as to make it easier for Daniels to position himself to be found.
Carl turns to face sun making it’s way up and of over the trees casting a series of patterned shadows on the ground. Amidst the shadows he notices Daniel’s Sidearm laying in the fallen leaves just a few feet away. He turn back to Daniels and asks
“What do we do now?”
“You die”
Daniels utters his words in such a calm manner Carl almost doesn’t catch it. Daniels springs to his newly healed legs and lunges for Carl who immediately side-steps him and throws him to the ground. Daniels returns to his feet and beings to throw a barrage of punches and kicks at Carl who gracefully dodges and blocks them with hardly an effort made.
“Are you tired yet?”
Carl poses this question while still blocking every attempt Daniel’s makes to harm him.
“I could very well continue to block you and pick up this gun and shoot you long before you could land a single punch. You have to remember we are both gifted individuals. I can’t permanently hurt you and you are too slow to hurt me.”
Daniels grimaces at Carl’s logic and desists from attacking him. He then proceeds to sit down on the ground and laugh. Carl stands puzzled at the sight and begins to chuckle lightly.
“What’s so funny?”
Barely able to vocalize his thoughts through the laughter, he chokes out his words.
“C-C’mon, you have to think this shit is funny. Could you imagine watching this shit go down?”
The attempt to explain only makes the situation funnier to Daniels and he begins to loose his words all over again trying to explain. His laughter increases in volume and he begins to roll over onto his side on the ground. Tears begin to form in his eyes and roll down his cheek. Watching, Carl begins to chuckle a little harder and is slowly succumbing the seemingly infectious laughter as Daniels tries to produce more comprehensible words through the convulsions of his now hysterical laughter
“Oh man, oooohhh man! I had to look like a huge dumb ass throwing punches and getting blocked every time. I mean this is like a comic book or cartoon. Oh god…”
Carl at this point completely surrenders to the laughter. The two laugh for what seemed like five minutes before they were both startled by the sound of an approaching helicopter. Daniels Immediately knew that it was Sgt. Reaver returning to look for him with the stealth drive systems on the chopper turned off so as to make it easier for Daniels to position himself to be found.
A Series of Unfortunate Events Part: 36
[Carl laughs hysterically at Daniels’ failed attempt to get up and walks over to taunt him further but is stopped in his tracks when he notices the mangled appendages begin to straighten themselves out. ]
“Holy shit… You’re one of us. AND YOU’VE BEEN WORKING FOR HIM!!”
Carl’s face reddens and begins to shake with rage. The sheer thought that Daniels had been working for Sgt. Reaver makes Carl want to kill him. If he was in possession of a weapon he surely would have used it. However, it may very well be to his advantage to keep him alive rather than kill him. So long as he cooperates…
Though rapidly healing, Daniels knows that until his legs are fully healed, it’d be futile to feed Carl’s aggression at the moment. He decides that given the nature of the grand scheme of things he would be much better off assumed dead by Reaver.
Carl’s aggression is still far from faded but he can’t help but be distracted at Daniel’s legs as they continue to straighten themselves out. Noticing Carl’s fixation on his legs Daniels turns his attention to them also. As he stares he begins to explain himself to carl.
“It… happened two years ago I think. I was on assignment in Cuba. An explosive went off when I was engaged with an enemy... I should have been killed. There wa- “
“So why the fuck are you out here trying to kill us- trying to kill ME!? So many lives have been lost in this artificial war and here you are running around helping the man who’s been perpetuating it making people like me and my-“
“STOP! You think I don’t know this already!? You think I need a fucking lecture on this shit? Maybe I’m just dumb enough to black and oblivious to being a minority all over again in a totally new aspect. No, I KNOW. I know what situation I’m in and really only have gotten a chance to see it from the other side since this accident. I have tried to help end this in other so many ways. Believe me. I have tried…
“Holy shit… You’re one of us. AND YOU’VE BEEN WORKING FOR HIM!!”
Carl’s face reddens and begins to shake with rage. The sheer thought that Daniels had been working for Sgt. Reaver makes Carl want to kill him. If he was in possession of a weapon he surely would have used it. However, it may very well be to his advantage to keep him alive rather than kill him. So long as he cooperates…
Though rapidly healing, Daniels knows that until his legs are fully healed, it’d be futile to feed Carl’s aggression at the moment. He decides that given the nature of the grand scheme of things he would be much better off assumed dead by Reaver.
Carl’s aggression is still far from faded but he can’t help but be distracted at Daniel’s legs as they continue to straighten themselves out. Noticing Carl’s fixation on his legs Daniels turns his attention to them also. As he stares he begins to explain himself to carl.
“It… happened two years ago I think. I was on assignment in Cuba. An explosive went off when I was engaged with an enemy... I should have been killed. There wa- “
“So why the fuck are you out here trying to kill us- trying to kill ME!? So many lives have been lost in this artificial war and here you are running around helping the man who’s been perpetuating it making people like me and my-“
“STOP! You think I don’t know this already!? You think I need a fucking lecture on this shit? Maybe I’m just dumb enough to black and oblivious to being a minority all over again in a totally new aspect. No, I KNOW. I know what situation I’m in and really only have gotten a chance to see it from the other side since this accident. I have tried to help end this in other so many ways. Believe me. I have tried…
Friday, November 6, 2009
A Series of Unfortunate Events Part: 35
[Finally, the tears for his father, for his lost friends, the daily struggles, for every time he felt like he wasn’t going to make it, for every time he had to see his mother struggle, for his family, for Keisha – fell from his eyes and run red with blood. He will never recover from this and for this thought he no longer considered himself among the living. ]
2012
The impact with the soil was far less painful than Daniels thought it would be. The inside of his head is ringing like a church bell and his vision is blurred to the point where everything is golden yellow and white blur. The sound of the USEG stealth chopper under fire from Dr. Smart quickly fades into the morning silence. Daniels concedes himself to lay there in the dirt crater he has created in hopes that the ringing in his head will stop and that his vision is restored. He dares not to even attempt to stand as he is sure his legs are probably broken and shattered.
The near silence of the morning is disturbed only by the sound of the wind blowing the tall grass and causing the trees to wave eerily overhead. Daniels marvels at the fact that the only thing he can distinguish in the blur of his vision is the difference between the ground and the sky. The white haze succumbs to a blue haze of the distant horizon so long as he is not starring to the east, directly facing the sun or at one of the surrounding trees that create a rather disturbing amorphous blob of a shape in his field of view.
Slowly, the ringing subsides and Daniel’s vision begins to fade back to sharpness. It is simplistically amazing to watch the individual blades of grass slowly come into focus for Daniels. The sight, he frankly believes is beautiful. With all the destruction that has come around him it is amazing to see something be “created”.
Marveling at the ground doesn’t allow Daniels the opportunity to hear Carl approaching.
“I was sure you were going to be a nice pile of paste with some useful weapons and maybe a damaged but still usable radio.”
“Got damn…” Daniels mumbles under his breath before attempting to rise and defend himself. His attempts however, are met with failure as his legs refuse to follow the orders his brain is sending them. Carl laughs hysterically at Daniels’ failed attempt to get up and walks over to taunt him further but is stopped in his tracks when he notices the mangled appendages begin to straighten themselves out.
2012
The impact with the soil was far less painful than Daniels thought it would be. The inside of his head is ringing like a church bell and his vision is blurred to the point where everything is golden yellow and white blur. The sound of the USEG stealth chopper under fire from Dr. Smart quickly fades into the morning silence. Daniels concedes himself to lay there in the dirt crater he has created in hopes that the ringing in his head will stop and that his vision is restored. He dares not to even attempt to stand as he is sure his legs are probably broken and shattered.
The near silence of the morning is disturbed only by the sound of the wind blowing the tall grass and causing the trees to wave eerily overhead. Daniels marvels at the fact that the only thing he can distinguish in the blur of his vision is the difference between the ground and the sky. The white haze succumbs to a blue haze of the distant horizon so long as he is not starring to the east, directly facing the sun or at one of the surrounding trees that create a rather disturbing amorphous blob of a shape in his field of view.
Slowly, the ringing subsides and Daniel’s vision begins to fade back to sharpness. It is simplistically amazing to watch the individual blades of grass slowly come into focus for Daniels. The sight, he frankly believes is beautiful. With all the destruction that has come around him it is amazing to see something be “created”.
Marveling at the ground doesn’t allow Daniels the opportunity to hear Carl approaching.
“I was sure you were going to be a nice pile of paste with some useful weapons and maybe a damaged but still usable radio.”
“Got damn…” Daniels mumbles under his breath before attempting to rise and defend himself. His attempts however, are met with failure as his legs refuse to follow the orders his brain is sending them. Carl laughs hysterically at Daniels’ failed attempt to get up and walks over to taunt him further but is stopped in his tracks when he notices the mangled appendages begin to straighten themselves out.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
A Series of Unfortunate Events Part: 34
[He looks up at Monica’s fear stricken face and into her tear filled eyes almost as if silently begging for help moments before he collapses onto the bathroom floor unconscious. ]
2008
His knees hitting the ground sends a jarring sensation up his spine that springs Nic back to his feet and sends him sailing towards the crushed wreckage that contained all he ever could consider family, screaming a “No” that could barely be detected under all the rage filled noise that carried in the air that escaped his mouth as he plunged forward.
Nic grabs the driver side rear passenger door handle and tugs with all his might. The strain and intensity of his pulling is met with bulging veins on his arms and neck, the sound of his straining sifting through his grit teeth and the slow moan of sheet metal beginning to yaw under the seemingly unyielding force behind his rage-driven pulling. Within moments the door springs open and throws Nic to the ground. Before making much contact with the ground he’s back on his feet and lunging into the now open cavity of the wrecked car’s backseat to find Keisha pinned forward against the back of the front passenger seat gasping for air as blood trickles from her left ear and mouth. She stares bleakly at him as her gasps get slower and slower. She appears as though she can no longer see him but knows he’s there. She chokes as though attempting to emit words and her eyes blindly pan back and forth.
“No… Baby. Don’t”
Nic chokes on his words and his voice cracks as tears are welling into his eyes. He knows he can’t save her. He can’t want her to live past this moment to endure the short remainder of life with her mangled body fighting for survival only to give up on an operating table. Even if she lived, she would never recover from such an injury. He would never recover from the death of his family and thus he could never hope for her to live to see that of him. He can only hope that she is comforted by his presence as she slowly slips from this world. He returns the bleak stare devoid of tears in his eyes. They are meeting eye to eye but seeing past her broken body and his already broken heart. Loving each other for the last time in this world. He stares so hard into her eyes he cannot see her mouth silently and slowly utter the words “I love you” before under the chocking blood and the last breaths she takes, her pupils contract and her eyes close in departure. Nic dares not look at the fate of his mother and sister and stares down at the debris littered floor of the car allowing the rage to return to him and drive him out of the car away from the possible sight of the rest of his dead loved ones.
Nic slowly backs out of the car falling to the ground with his limbs shaking. He clenches his arms around himself in an attempt to bottle the pain causing himself to roll side to side in the sharp debris on the road. He feels no pain and shuts his eyes so tight he almost cant breathe thus forcing them back open to look at the pandemonium on the roadway. His scream is so loud, the world is silent to him. His ears ring with pressure, and the only thing telling him he’s still alive are the vibrations the sound of his breaking voice creates in his chest. Finally, the tears for his father, for his lost friends, the daily struggles, for every time he felt like he wasn’t going to make it, for every time he had to see his mother struggle, for his family, for Keisha – fell from his eyes and run red with blood. He will never recover from this and for this thought he no longer considered himself among the living.
2008
His knees hitting the ground sends a jarring sensation up his spine that springs Nic back to his feet and sends him sailing towards the crushed wreckage that contained all he ever could consider family, screaming a “No” that could barely be detected under all the rage filled noise that carried in the air that escaped his mouth as he plunged forward.
Nic grabs the driver side rear passenger door handle and tugs with all his might. The strain and intensity of his pulling is met with bulging veins on his arms and neck, the sound of his straining sifting through his grit teeth and the slow moan of sheet metal beginning to yaw under the seemingly unyielding force behind his rage-driven pulling. Within moments the door springs open and throws Nic to the ground. Before making much contact with the ground he’s back on his feet and lunging into the now open cavity of the wrecked car’s backseat to find Keisha pinned forward against the back of the front passenger seat gasping for air as blood trickles from her left ear and mouth. She stares bleakly at him as her gasps get slower and slower. She appears as though she can no longer see him but knows he’s there. She chokes as though attempting to emit words and her eyes blindly pan back and forth.
“No… Baby. Don’t”
Nic chokes on his words and his voice cracks as tears are welling into his eyes. He knows he can’t save her. He can’t want her to live past this moment to endure the short remainder of life with her mangled body fighting for survival only to give up on an operating table. Even if she lived, she would never recover from such an injury. He would never recover from the death of his family and thus he could never hope for her to live to see that of him. He can only hope that she is comforted by his presence as she slowly slips from this world. He returns the bleak stare devoid of tears in his eyes. They are meeting eye to eye but seeing past her broken body and his already broken heart. Loving each other for the last time in this world. He stares so hard into her eyes he cannot see her mouth silently and slowly utter the words “I love you” before under the chocking blood and the last breaths she takes, her pupils contract and her eyes close in departure. Nic dares not look at the fate of his mother and sister and stares down at the debris littered floor of the car allowing the rage to return to him and drive him out of the car away from the possible sight of the rest of his dead loved ones.
Nic slowly backs out of the car falling to the ground with his limbs shaking. He clenches his arms around himself in an attempt to bottle the pain causing himself to roll side to side in the sharp debris on the road. He feels no pain and shuts his eyes so tight he almost cant breathe thus forcing them back open to look at the pandemonium on the roadway. His scream is so loud, the world is silent to him. His ears ring with pressure, and the only thing telling him he’s still alive are the vibrations the sound of his breaking voice creates in his chest. Finally, the tears for his father, for his lost friends, the daily struggles, for every time he felt like he wasn’t going to make it, for every time he had to see his mother struggle, for his family, for Keisha – fell from his eyes and run red with blood. He will never recover from this and for this thought he no longer considered himself among the living.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
A Series of Unfortunate Events Part: 33
[Two stories up above Sergeant Reaver watches as Render is incapacitated at Daniel’s feet. The sound of the impact and the crackle of electricity slightly echo towards him. Satisfied, he heads down to retrieve his latest guinea pig.]
2008
The sound of an alarm clock breaks through the silence of the room. Jason rolls over in the bed from his side onto his back and lays his hand on top of the source of the noise depressing the button to turn off the alarm. The early morning sunlight is piercing through the gaps in the bedroom window blinds. As Jason settles his face rolls into direct alignment for of the streams of light to land on one of his eyelids. There's no use fighting it. It's time to get out of bed.
He rolls over in the sheets to lay eyes upon Monica. A small smile falls upon his lips as he gazes at her sleeping face. A few strands of her hair drape across the smooth olive skin of her face and are lightly being teased with each breath she takes in slumber. Jason lays a soft kiss on her forehead before quietly sliding from under the covers and out of bed.
It's about 7:45 am on a rather cold October morning. The hardwood floors of their apartment feel icy under Jason's feet as he sleepily makes his way to the bathroom. Trying to make the least contact with the cold floor as possible as he stands, Jason scratches his head and yawns standing before the toilet preparing to relieve himself. His fingertips brush across the scar on the top portion of the back of his head. A sudden flash recollecting on the crash occurs in his mind as his fingertips navigate the uneven surface of his skull. Jason is constantly plagued with these brief but startling flashbacks of what happened that day.
Jason flushes the toilet and begins to wash his hands. He stares bleakly into the mirror as the cold but slowly warming water is pouring across his hands. He notices his right eye is beginning to twitch. It is the tell of an impending massive migraine headache. Yet another painful side effect of the accident. He closes his eyes and clenches onto the edge of the sink bowl bracing himself for the headache. The pain seems to slowly creep from the base of his skull and move towards his forehead where it seemingly explodes with ripples of pain radiating outward within his skull. Jason opens his eyes to find something in the room to focus on to drive his mind away from the pain. He fixates on the rusty steel chain attached to the stopper for the sink, trying to pilot his mind into thinking about the length of the chain, the shape of the loops, the color of the rust, and the steel the chain is
made from. As the thought of steel passes through his mind, Jason can feel his grip slowly making indentations in the sink. The pain in his head surges higher and the porcelain sink bowl explodes under the force of the grip of his hands. Shocked, Jason stares down in disbelief at what just happened. The water is pouring out of the remaining portion of the sink bowl and spilling onto his feet and broken debris. Noticing this, Jason quickly grabs the lever to the faucet and turns the water off sheering off the lever as he reaches the closed position of the valve. He is in complete awe as he slowly raises his left hand to more closely examine the broken handle in his hand. As he stares at the handle in his periphery he can capture the reflection of Monica in the mirror standing in the doorway behind him. Her hands are covering her mouth as though she were attempting to muffle a scream. Jason slowly turns around to her stammering.
“I – I- Don’t know what this is…”
Monica slowly lowers her hands and tears start to well in her eyes.
“Oh my god. Your skin…”
Jason stares down at his hand with the faucet handle still in it. Starring for a moment at the jagged edges of the handle where it was torn from the rest of the faucet, then noticing the inside of his hand. His skin, while still maintaining its natural color has taken on an eerie metallic sheen. He slowly closes his hand around the handle and begins to crush it with ease. Suddenly the pain begins to subside. As it retreats back towards the base of his skull, the metallic sheen fades away to reveal the normal texture of his skin and the pain of the remaining jagged edges piercing into his hand began to grow. A small stream of blood begins to flow from his closed fist causing a light “pit pat” on the floor in the near dead silence of the situation.. He looks up at Monica’s fear stricken face and into her tear filled eyes almost as if silently begging for help moments before he collapses onto the bathroom floor unconscious.
2008
The sound of an alarm clock breaks through the silence of the room. Jason rolls over in the bed from his side onto his back and lays his hand on top of the source of the noise depressing the button to turn off the alarm. The early morning sunlight is piercing through the gaps in the bedroom window blinds. As Jason settles his face rolls into direct alignment for of the streams of light to land on one of his eyelids. There's no use fighting it. It's time to get out of bed.
He rolls over in the sheets to lay eyes upon Monica. A small smile falls upon his lips as he gazes at her sleeping face. A few strands of her hair drape across the smooth olive skin of her face and are lightly being teased with each breath she takes in slumber. Jason lays a soft kiss on her forehead before quietly sliding from under the covers and out of bed.
It's about 7:45 am on a rather cold October morning. The hardwood floors of their apartment feel icy under Jason's feet as he sleepily makes his way to the bathroom. Trying to make the least contact with the cold floor as possible as he stands, Jason scratches his head and yawns standing before the toilet preparing to relieve himself. His fingertips brush across the scar on the top portion of the back of his head. A sudden flash recollecting on the crash occurs in his mind as his fingertips navigate the uneven surface of his skull. Jason is constantly plagued with these brief but startling flashbacks of what happened that day.
Jason flushes the toilet and begins to wash his hands. He stares bleakly into the mirror as the cold but slowly warming water is pouring across his hands. He notices his right eye is beginning to twitch. It is the tell of an impending massive migraine headache. Yet another painful side effect of the accident. He closes his eyes and clenches onto the edge of the sink bowl bracing himself for the headache. The pain seems to slowly creep from the base of his skull and move towards his forehead where it seemingly explodes with ripples of pain radiating outward within his skull. Jason opens his eyes to find something in the room to focus on to drive his mind away from the pain. He fixates on the rusty steel chain attached to the stopper for the sink, trying to pilot his mind into thinking about the length of the chain, the shape of the loops, the color of the rust, and the steel the chain is
made from. As the thought of steel passes through his mind, Jason can feel his grip slowly making indentations in the sink. The pain in his head surges higher and the porcelain sink bowl explodes under the force of the grip of his hands. Shocked, Jason stares down in disbelief at what just happened. The water is pouring out of the remaining portion of the sink bowl and spilling onto his feet and broken debris. Noticing this, Jason quickly grabs the lever to the faucet and turns the water off sheering off the lever as he reaches the closed position of the valve. He is in complete awe as he slowly raises his left hand to more closely examine the broken handle in his hand. As he stares at the handle in his periphery he can capture the reflection of Monica in the mirror standing in the doorway behind him. Her hands are covering her mouth as though she were attempting to muffle a scream. Jason slowly turns around to her stammering.
“I – I- Don’t know what this is…”
Monica slowly lowers her hands and tears start to well in her eyes.
“Oh my god. Your skin…”
Jason stares down at his hand with the faucet handle still in it. Starring for a moment at the jagged edges of the handle where it was torn from the rest of the faucet, then noticing the inside of his hand. His skin, while still maintaining its natural color has taken on an eerie metallic sheen. He slowly closes his hand around the handle and begins to crush it with ease. Suddenly the pain begins to subside. As it retreats back towards the base of his skull, the metallic sheen fades away to reveal the normal texture of his skin and the pain of the remaining jagged edges piercing into his hand began to grow. A small stream of blood begins to flow from his closed fist causing a light “pit pat” on the floor in the near dead silence of the situation.. He looks up at Monica’s fear stricken face and into her tear filled eyes almost as if silently begging for help moments before he collapses onto the bathroom floor unconscious.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
A Series of Unfortunate Events Part: 32
[...Upon impact into the soldier’s midsection, Render hears his teeth clack and the dry huff of all the air suddenly escaping his lungs as the two of them meet the pavement. He releases a small volley of heavy punches into the face of the soldier shortly before hearing the racket and ricochets of bullets being fired at him and bouncing off of his back. ]
Daniels unloads an entire magazine before render slowly rises to his feet and turns to face him. His knuckles are coated in the blood of his fellow Guardsman, and the intensity of the moment is almost amplifying the “pat” it makes as it drips from his fists and falls to the pavement. Each breath Render takes is filled with rage and the desire for vengeance. The late evening air is warm but his breaths make large plumes of steam as they exit his body.
Daniels drops his P-90 on the ground and pulls his sidearm from its holster and carefully lays it on the ground. He does not take his eyes off of Render as he bends over and does this. As he rises up he holds his hands up palms out towards Render.
“We ain’t even gotta do this.”
“We already are you fucking piece of shit.”
Render begins to slowly advance towards Daniels.
“You and me ain’t so far apart in the way we feel. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be fighting anyone. Hell, I damn sure don’t want to be fighting you, whatever the fuck you are.”
“You bastards just can’t be satisfied can you? I told you I did not want to be your fucking guinea pig. I said leave me out. I just wanted to live a normal life. But no, you make sure I have to contend with my newfound lack of normality... I ought to rip your heart out of your chest and stomp it to paste. Where the fuck is she?”
Render shakes with anger and fear as he stops advancing and waits for a reply.
“You already know. She’s dead. Reaver made sure y- “
Render lunges towards Daniels but falls short of him. His unfocused mind renders his body into several various material characteristics that stop him from moving as easily as intended. His lack of focus near cripples him temporarily. He struggles to regain his control and slowly lifts his head towards Daniels.
“He left us all no choice. You can either die here trying to fight for someone who’s already dead or you can help the world in being a ‘guinea pig’ for a few hours. What’s it going to be tough guy?”
Daniels reaches across his chest over his left shoulder and unsheathes a shock stick. A weapon designed to combine the compact hitting power of a small baton and the capability to incapacitate through the use of electricity like a stun-gun. Raising his arm slightly above his head, Daniels is poised to strike Render over the head with the shock stick.
“Grrrrr, fuck you!”
Enraged again, Render surges up off of the ground towards Daniels and is quickly dispatched.
Two stories up above Sergeant Reaver watches as Render is incapacitated at Daniel’s feet. The sound of the impact and the crackle of electricity slightly echo towards him. Satisfied, he heads down to retrieve his latest guinea pig.
Daniels unloads an entire magazine before render slowly rises to his feet and turns to face him. His knuckles are coated in the blood of his fellow Guardsman, and the intensity of the moment is almost amplifying the “pat” it makes as it drips from his fists and falls to the pavement. Each breath Render takes is filled with rage and the desire for vengeance. The late evening air is warm but his breaths make large plumes of steam as they exit his body.
Daniels drops his P-90 on the ground and pulls his sidearm from its holster and carefully lays it on the ground. He does not take his eyes off of Render as he bends over and does this. As he rises up he holds his hands up palms out towards Render.
“We ain’t even gotta do this.”
“We already are you fucking piece of shit.”
Render begins to slowly advance towards Daniels.
“You and me ain’t so far apart in the way we feel. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be fighting anyone. Hell, I damn sure don’t want to be fighting you, whatever the fuck you are.”
“You bastards just can’t be satisfied can you? I told you I did not want to be your fucking guinea pig. I said leave me out. I just wanted to live a normal life. But no, you make sure I have to contend with my newfound lack of normality... I ought to rip your heart out of your chest and stomp it to paste. Where the fuck is she?”
Render shakes with anger and fear as he stops advancing and waits for a reply.
“You already know. She’s dead. Reaver made sure y- “
Render lunges towards Daniels but falls short of him. His unfocused mind renders his body into several various material characteristics that stop him from moving as easily as intended. His lack of focus near cripples him temporarily. He struggles to regain his control and slowly lifts his head towards Daniels.
“He left us all no choice. You can either die here trying to fight for someone who’s already dead or you can help the world in being a ‘guinea pig’ for a few hours. What’s it going to be tough guy?”
Daniels reaches across his chest over his left shoulder and unsheathes a shock stick. A weapon designed to combine the compact hitting power of a small baton and the capability to incapacitate through the use of electricity like a stun-gun. Raising his arm slightly above his head, Daniels is poised to strike Render over the head with the shock stick.
“Grrrrr, fuck you!”
Enraged again, Render surges up off of the ground towards Daniels and is quickly dispatched.
Two stories up above Sergeant Reaver watches as Render is incapacitated at Daniel’s feet. The sound of the impact and the crackle of electricity slightly echo towards him. Satisfied, he heads down to retrieve his latest guinea pig.
Monday, November 2, 2009
A Series of Unfortunate Events Part: 31
[...The surrounding ambient light from the nearby buildings reflects off his face and hands in a manner that gives him an eerie iridescence as he begins to accelerate toward the ground and the unsuspecting group of men below.]
On the ground the only sign of what is about to happen was the nearly inaudible whistle of the air coursing past Render’s body as he came careening out of the night sky down onto two of the four men. The sound of shattering bones and tactical gear is almost completely stifled by what sounded like a one thousand pound ingot of steel crashing into the concrete of the sidewalk.
Ears ringing from the sound of the impact, the two remaining men are startled into confusion. They are United States Elite Guardsmen dressed in urban drab and armed with subcompact machine guns. They take aim towards the windows above them attempting to get a location on their assailants.
“Fuck! Daniels, where the hell did that come from?!?! Where the heck are they?!?”
Daniels, far too calm for the situation peers upwards to the skyline scanning the windows of the building for whoever attacked them and almost instinctively, responds to the other soldier without taking his eyes or mind off the situation.
“Not they. He. He is the whole reason why we’re in this shit situation anyway…”
As the two soldiers continue to search the windows above, the sound of metal scraping concrete can be heard as Render slowly lifts himself off the decimated bodies of the two fallen soldiers and out of the crater in the sidewalk he created. His dark jeans and long sleeved tee are torn in various places and are matted to him where blood bonds them to his metallic body.
Render focuses his mind on aluminum and bounds towards one of the soldiers while he was still focused on the windows above. Upon impact into the soldier’s midsection, Render hears his teeth clack and the dry huff of all the air suddenly escaping his lungs as the two of them meet the pavement. He releases a small volley of heavy punches into the face of the soldier shortly before hearing the racket and ricochets of bullets being fired at him and bouncing off of his back.
On the ground the only sign of what is about to happen was the nearly inaudible whistle of the air coursing past Render’s body as he came careening out of the night sky down onto two of the four men. The sound of shattering bones and tactical gear is almost completely stifled by what sounded like a one thousand pound ingot of steel crashing into the concrete of the sidewalk.
Ears ringing from the sound of the impact, the two remaining men are startled into confusion. They are United States Elite Guardsmen dressed in urban drab and armed with subcompact machine guns. They take aim towards the windows above them attempting to get a location on their assailants.
“Fuck! Daniels, where the hell did that come from?!?! Where the heck are they?!?”
Daniels, far too calm for the situation peers upwards to the skyline scanning the windows of the building for whoever attacked them and almost instinctively, responds to the other soldier without taking his eyes or mind off the situation.
“Not they. He. He is the whole reason why we’re in this shit situation anyway…”
As the two soldiers continue to search the windows above, the sound of metal scraping concrete can be heard as Render slowly lifts himself off the decimated bodies of the two fallen soldiers and out of the crater in the sidewalk he created. His dark jeans and long sleeved tee are torn in various places and are matted to him where blood bonds them to his metallic body.
Render focuses his mind on aluminum and bounds towards one of the soldiers while he was still focused on the windows above. Upon impact into the soldier’s midsection, Render hears his teeth clack and the dry huff of all the air suddenly escaping his lungs as the two of them meet the pavement. He releases a small volley of heavy punches into the face of the soldier shortly before hearing the racket and ricochets of bullets being fired at him and bouncing off of his back.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)