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Post by Witcher Wolf on Jun 16, 2004 5:55:56 GMT -5
Read it from the beginning, you should see why, if not... Well let's just say that Heaven and Hell are as bad as each other, the system's corrupt and the Angels don't give a monkey's left golden nut
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Post by Libby on Jun 16, 2004 12:21:54 GMT -5
..and of course, Hope springs eternal! ;D
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Post by Witcher Wolf on Jul 9, 2004 8:15:49 GMT -5
With half a tank of Gas and his foot to the floor Jack proved a surprising elusive prey for his pursuers, the man wanted to get away and he pushed his vehicle to its limits.
“You see that?”
“I see it but I don't fucking believe it...”
Their commentary was due to the fact that Jack's car had just impacted another roadblock and tossed the other vehicles away like they were toys. Sparks and fire flew from all directions as the massive impact should have totalled the vehicle, instead it just kept going as if the very soul of desperation fuelled it.
Two normal Cops had to slam on the brakes and drive as if their lives depended on it, because in truth, they did. Their patrol car just made it through the gap and one of the wing mirrors spun off in shattered metal and silvered glass, the pieces forming more maddening reflections as they impacted with the grey tarmac.
The road was long, straight and lit intermittently by the tall lampposts either side of it. The roar of the car's engine drowned out by the wail of sirens, sirens that sounded like the cries of newborn babes – or the souls of the damned screaming to be let out.
The rain didn't help matters and while the man was reacting with superhuman speed and reflexes his pursuers couldn't hope to match that. Most of them were normal men and women, even the Helicopter pilot pushing his bird to maximum speed was having trouble keeping up.
In veils of shimmering misty droplets the rain scattered against Jack's windshield, his hands were tightly wound around the steering wheel and his knuckles were white with the pressure. His mind raced as fast as his car, his heart thundered in his chest almost painfully.
Lightning ripped across the sky from the battered heavens in arcs of blue and white light, the clouds danced with the interplay of tempestuous weather.
One bright spark of energy leapt to defy all physical and some magical laws, right down and onto the fast moving and weaving vehicle. It may have been drawn by Jack's desperation or perhaps it was a simple coincidence.
The effect however left a searing reminder to all that saw it, something was not normal.
Tendrils of dancing energy whirled up and across the paintwork of the vehicle forming a cocoon of sorts. It ran from the front of the car to the back and sparked when ever it came into contact with anything else made of metal.
The two demons exchanged glances as they neared the prey's car – they realised a little too late their mistake as a stray bolt leapt from Jack's car onto their own, it ran the length of the vehicle, shorting out all the electrics and nipping into the engine.
A blossom of fire ripped across the road and twisted bits of metal and flesh soared out in all directions. The only reminder that a car was once there was a single rolling tyre, burning out slowly as it pattered across the greasy slick roadway.
“Holy shit.”
The chopper pilot managed to swing his bird away just in time as a piece of debris shot into the sky and nearly sheared his tail rotor off. He clung onto the controls and fought the sudden spin as the shock wave from the blast followed.
“That was too close, breaking off pursuit.”
That just left the rest of the ground based pursuers to deal with and Jack was losing his patience with all of them. The angrier he got the more the energy field around his car intensified and the more speed he pushed out of the vehicle.
Gone was the shell of the physical car, he was now wrapped in the purest magic and it obeyed his every subconscious thought. At the moment his mind was bent to the task of escaping the chasing Police by any and all means possible.
He was bright light tearing up the highway heading out like a bat from hell right into the arms of another roadblock. This one was a little more serious in nature, for a start it had a number of riot vans and armed Police manning it.
They were expecting a car to come hurtling at them.
Not the apparition that came roaring down the road with a flare of car-shaped electrical tendrils of power, leaving a flaming trail behind it.
“Oh my god.”
Some of the Police opened fire, the bullets from their weapons turning into dust as they hit the energy form before them.
Some of the Police started to run, those were the wise ones.
Jack whooped as the power took him over completely and his physical form burned away into a bright flare of light, this was better than any drug and better than anything he'd ever experienced.
And somewhere Mr. Clayton awoke his eyes were hollow and his face was ashen grey.
“What have I done?”
The reverberating echoes of the nightmare he'd just experienced left him with the last few words upon the ether, spoken in a menacing tone.
“I am coming for you, you bastard.”
The remains of the car hit the blockade at full force and disintegrated men, vans and anything it touched.
There was an explosion the likes of which only those at Five Mile Island had ever seen, fire blossomed into the heavens and touched the clouds with its embers. The sky turned a rich red, gold and orange for a few minutes as the conflagration seemed to lick at the edges of the vaporous dark masses.
An hour later rescue vehicles of all shapes and sizes were at the scene but there was nothing there, after the fire had died down the road was clear and there wasn't even a tiny piece of metal to show for the incredible events.
It left everyone baffled and the forensic scientists that combed the area afterwards in the dawns early light could find nothing.
The spectacular chase that had been reported on every news station across the country was over and people sat in their homes still gawking at the screens. Network executives pulled broadcast footage and analysed every angle and inch, they were left feeling cold and empty as the scene of the carnage was revealed empty.
“There is still no sign of the missing car...”
Hope flicked off the TV and she looked at the screen, in her slender fingers she held a small glass of whiskey and she shook her head. “Oh fuck Jack what did you go and do baby?”
The blank TV didn't answer of course.
Garfield had been watching the chase live on his small TV in the back room, when the weird shit started happening he put it all down to Hollywood special effects and figured that the whole thing was a stunt.
Williams was still staring wide eyed at the shop front screens as the light of the day began to flicker across the land, he'd watched the whole thing and the moment the strange energy began to coalesce he knew instinctively that something was wrong.
Behind him were a crowd of similarly awed people, some of them should have been home hours ago. They were still locked to the aftermath, watching update after update and speculation after speculation.
Slowly the agent pulled his phone from his pocket as it began to ring, the voice on the other end surprised him.
“Williams?” The edge of terror that permeated throughout the speaker's tones was palpable.
“Yes? Who is this?”
“It's Clayton, we need to talk!”
“Yes Mr. Clayton, I do believe that you're right.”
“Umbridges Warehouse...two hours from now, come alone.” The phone went dead.
Willams pulled a cigar from his pocket and lit it, turning away from the chattering crowd and the screens. He pulled the smoke deep within and for a moment his eyes matched the end of the cigar, before they flickered out.
“The boss isn't going to like this.” He said to himself and began to walk off away from people, away from everything. “Not like this at all.”
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Post by Libby on Jul 9, 2004 8:26:02 GMT -5
Brilliant! Love the imagery...need to tell a few more people to read this! ;D
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Post by Witcher Wolf on Jul 9, 2004 8:37:15 GMT -5
Brilliant! Love the imagery...need to tell a few more people to read this! ;D I thought it needed an update, oh, you might want to recheck -- since I added a little more that ties things up a bit better and leaves room for more questions
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Post by Libby on Jul 9, 2004 8:55:03 GMT -5
Re-read...what is Jack up to? Clayton seems truly nervous...! ;D
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Post by Witcher Wolf on Jul 9, 2004 9:09:53 GMT -5
*BWHAHAHS*
o/' Payback...Baby...Payback o/'
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Post by Witcher Wolf on Jul 15, 2004 9:42:38 GMT -5
The sun was just trying to break through the shroud of clouds as the agent's car pulled into the back lot of the dockside warehouse. He cut the engine and stepped from his vehicle, everything was spinning out of control and the word on the celestial grapevine was that Gabriel was dead.
It wasn't supposed to be like this at all, Clayton picked a random from the many hundreds of vehicles on the road that night, for his demonstration.
How could it all have gone wrong?
The gaunt figure of Mr. Clayton was standing inside the doorway to the small building and he seemed to be even more hollow than usual.
In a few short steps Williams was standing before the veritable giant of a man, he lit a cigarette and proceeded to smoke it. “Not sleeping well Clayton?”
“What do you think, the Ether is alive with power and the news is not good.”
“Cry me a river?” The agent didn't quite have the conviction behind his voice as he'd hoped and the other man jumped on it.
“I sense fear Williams – for one such as you this is also not a good sign.”
“Don't mistake fear for caution.” He lied.
“I don't like it – I wish to terminate our agreement, if this power finds out what I did – I will not be able to stand against it.” The other man turned and stepped into the warehouse. “And I will not die for you or the Devil...do I make myself clear?”
“It was a random, you demonstrated your power to prove to me that you had what it takes, you're a rare talent Clayton and that's something we /need/...” Williams followed and shoved past the stalking figure. “You can't quit out now – the boss wouldn't like it and you don't want him pissed at you.”
“Revenge is a powerful motive Mr. Williams, it's one thing to deal with a mortal that has nothing to live for – but another to deal with someone who has transcended so quickly.”
“Yeah well – I don't even think Heaven expected that to happen do you?”
“They cannot see every outcome no – but I should have seen it...I should have sensed she would be the key.”
“The key?”
“A long time ago a Llama in Tibet told me my death would be orchestrated by a vengeful soul and that a woman would be the key. I mistakenly thought that it would be over a woman, two lovers quarrelling.” The tall man put his hands in his pockets. “So I made sure that I would never be in a situation with a lover...ever again...”
“And because you picked a random car out of a crowd of vehicles to demonstrate your power – the one in a million chance that it happened to be a woman? Triggered a series...a chain of events that some mouldy old fortune teller in Tibet told you would come true...to happen?”
“In a sense yes.”
“Great...so what do we do now?”
“I do not know.”
“Caught between Heaven and Hell, we're up a creek without a paddle!” Williams took his cigarette and slammed his foot onto the dying ember until it winked out. “Shit.”
“Your employer will have to come up with alternative means to destroy the Angel – I will not wage a war on two fronts. I may be a heartless Psychic Mr. Williams who misuses his power for his own ends, but I am not going to put my neck onto the chopping block and invite the executioner to come cut it off with his axe.” Clayton hissed and narrowed his eyes, his features contorting a little.
“We had a deal!”
“Null and void...it was a verbal agreement no more – no less.”
“Bastard!”
“I am glad we understand each other so well...it took you this long to work this out?”
Williams stood there for a while and his eyes buldged, his nose began to drip slow tiny drops of blood. “You don't get it...you Psychic son-of-a-bitch!” He growled. “You're in and the only way out for you is if you're dead...and since the fine print of the unwritten contract states that – if one of the parties defaults on the bargain...the disguntled party gets to rip their head off and shit down their neck.”
“Oh this is rich, you think a petty little speck like you is going to offer any challenge to me?” Clayton threw his coat off and power began to flare between his fingers. “I'll roast you alive and send the ashes to your boss!”
Willams of course wasn't about to answer – he was in a new world of pain as the insurance inside his head opened the locks to his mind, one by one and slipped free of the shackles to lay down some serious payback.
The Psychic sensed something shifting and detected some new power, it was only small however and he put it down to fledgling talent. He concentrated upon unleashing a wave of pyrokinetic energy towards the silent agent.
Fire leapt up and around the man, engulfing him in a blazing pyre of sudden intense heat and light.
The agent screamed as the flesh began to sear from his bones, that scream turned to a roar as the burning stench of skin and hair wafted into Clayton's nose.
“You should have let me walk away – now your boss will have to find a new lackey to fill your shoes.” The tall man hissed and pushed more flame outwards and over Willams – there was so much that he vanished from sight.
“Don't you ever shut up?” The voice was distorted and it came from within the conflageration, slowly a new shape emerged and began to grow in size and stature.
“What?”
“Clause #666 Clayton.” The demonic tones reminded the man. “If one or more Bound default on a verbal agreement with the eyes and ears of the Fallen – the injured party reserves the right to tear the defaulter into tiny shreds of skin and bone.”
The massive creature that stood nearly sixteen feet high towered into the air now and seemed to expand from the flames, it was a nightmarish thing – more beast than human and its skin was smouldering with orange fire and flickering scorched embers.
A vaguely leonine head sat upon broad shoulders the mane was a wreath of flickering tendrils and the eyes were as red as blood.
Clayton stepped a few feet back as his eyes fell upon the nightmarish shape.
The creature paused and ran a set of massive talons down the wall drawing sparks from it and leaving massive runnels down the stone and metal.
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Post by Witcher Wolf on Jul 15, 2004 9:57:32 GMT -5
“What's the matter Clayton?” There was a snort of breath and a gout of fire. “Cat got your tongue?”
“An unexpected turn of events – you are more resourceful than I gave you credit for Mr. Williams.”
“Perks of the job traitor.” There was another snarl and the demonic shape began to move towards the tall man.
“A harsh word – I prefer to think of myself as a realist and a practical one at that.”
He was backing off now and trying to put something solid between himself and this monster.
Crate after crate was tossed aside as the demon smashed them aside with a sweep of his massive arm, wood splintered into tiny shards. “One last chance to reconsider?”
“As much as your shape disturbs me to the pit of my soul I would rather meet death at your hands than what the other promises if I do not escape.” Clayton said and kept moving he was heading out towards the back door and safety – where Williams couldn't follow – he hoped.
“I was hoping that you'd say that.”
The tall man broke and ran for the nearest door at the same time the creature leapt for him.
The shape landed on a packing crate and shattered it with the force of impact, the demon roared and snarled in anger as the slight figure eluded him and made it out of the warehouse. It would be foolish to follow the man in broad daylight – but what was that saying?
“Fools rush in where Angels fear to tread?”
He looked up and saw the beautiful white shape of Hope just leaning on one of the supports near an open window.
“I didn't want to disturb your tiff ya'll looked like you were having too much fun Sugah.”
Instinct saved Williams life as the woman opened fire with her two guns and the shimmering discharge pockmarked the ground where the demon once stood.
It landed on all fours after back flipping to avoid her hail of specialised gunfire.
“Bitch.”
“Ya better believe it baby – I hear ya'll het up lookin for little old me?”
“I'm going to chew the skin off your bones and feast on your soul.” The demon was starting to exert full control over the agent's body now. “Enough jabbering wench!”
“Aww puddy tat all tuckered out from a night of licking himself?” She hopped down and landed gracefully on the floor. “Bring it on Sylvester and I'll send you back to Lucifer with a boot up your ass.”
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Post by Libby on Jul 15, 2004 10:47:53 GMT -5
Yay! Hope's back! ;D Now it's going to hit the proverbial fan!
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Post by TheMacroprosopus on Sept 18, 2004 22:16:39 GMT -5
K, so I just finished an hour and a bit read of this. Tell me there's an ending, please. The suspense of what there is so far is killing me, and I just finished reading.
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Post by Witcher Wolf on Sept 19, 2004 7:00:10 GMT -5
It's a continuing story, one of the many fragments that sneak out from the depths of my mind. Now I have finished work on Ashes part 3 - I'll add more to OGaM
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Post by MisterAnderson on Sept 19, 2004 15:05:55 GMT -5
Now I have finished work on Ashes part 3 - I'll add more to OGaM Good-ie.....goodie goodie yum yum..... ;D
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Post by Witcher Wolf on Sept 25, 2004 12:07:42 GMT -5
Under the sun's breaking light the demon took over the agent completely, sundering every aspect of the man and shattering his psyche – Williams was gone, never a man to read the fine print of a contract with the 'Infernal'.
Hope watched all this with a mix of sadness and contempt, she spun both of her pistols in lazy circles almost goading the creature, she tried to get it to come for her.
“There's one thing I hate more than God, that's the stink of a meddling Angel.” It snarled and leapt to one side to land on another crate, the demon kept on the move – it was trying to draw her into a false sense of security.
“I'm just balancing the books hon.” She whispered and let a small smile play over her lips. “You're the ones that put the contract on my head, your boss remember?”
“Williams isn't home, I am in control now.” It sneered.
“Oh goodie, that means I won't shed a tear when I put a hole in your head big enough to drive your ass through.”
She let two salvos of silver-white gunfire shred the perch of the demon and it back flipped off to land on a gantry.
“Nimble little monstah aren't you?”
“Just warming up.” It let the retort die and snarled out a rapidly expanding ball of fire towards the woman, she put her arms up to brace for the impact.
Wood splintered and crackled under the intense heat, the floor beneath her melted from the blast, flames leapt all around.
She stepped from the conflagration and sighed. “If that's the best you got honey, you're really no match for a babe let alone an Angel.”
Clayton was free, or so he thought, free and running along the courtyard to the warehouse. His feet smacking against the stonework as his legs pumped for dear life. He saw the mighty explosion and kept on running – until he saw Jack.
“Goin' somewhere psi-ker?” He snorted and snapped his neck from side to side, eyeing the fleeing man with obvious and raw hatred.
“Let me guess, you're another of Lucifer's bloodhounds?” The rogue psi sneered and let loose a wave of mental force. “I have no time for you lapdog.”
The former man brushed it aside with a blink. “You'd like to think that wouldn't you, you'd love to think that you're the one who's been wronged you shit-eating maggot.”
It was twice that Clayton's arrogance was simply brushed aside without warning, it struck a cold fearful dagger into his heart. “Who are you?”
“No one.” Jack said with a snarl. “I was someone and I had something, but you took it away, you caused all of this – and by God you're going to pay whether the Divine likes it or not.” He spat the last words out as if he were a man with nothing else to lose.
“You must have mistaken me for someone else.”
“You picked the wrong target for your little test.” Jack's eyes lit up and inside them was a white-phosphor of loathing.
“Test?” He was about to feign ignorance, since he'd been involved in numerous demonstrations and tests, the truth was he had a sick fascination with the kind of trauma caused by the result.
“You took my wife away and now I'm going to make you pay three-fold.” The man's voice was flat, cold and full of menacing tones. “It ends for me, now.”
Suddenly it was all revealed to Clayton and he knew who Jack was, who he spoke of and most of all the source of his nightmares for the past few days. “My God, it's you, you're him!”
“He who is royally pissed?” Jack sneered. “You got that right dip-shit.”
“You're Jack.”
“Jack's dead, you killed him, you killed his wife and now all that remains is revenge.” The man's voice was hollow and grave-like, devoid of even the tiniest shred of human emotion.
“I can pay you.”
“So can I.”
“Pay me?”
“Pay-back.”
With the speed of the supernatural to fuel his movements the former-man turned Angel of Retribution pulled a silver handled gun from the ether, a single shot echoed in the courtyard and Clayton snapped backwards, his head a smoking ruin from which curls of vapour danced like unbound succubi.
“You don't even get to rot in hell fucker.”
A writhing mist took up from the man's body, formed into a screaming soul-shape echoing the formers traumatic death, it was drawn into a special compartment in the gun Jack carried now.
“Got plans for you bud.”
He began to walk towards the now burning Warehouse and whistled an odd tune, an old song, the lyrics lilting over the flames. “Do not forsake me, oh my darlin.”
He kicked down the door to see the demon grinning in triumph, while he'd been outside with Clayton it had been leading Hope into a dangerous game of 'overconfidence' – it now had the woman caught in between its claws and she hung like a limp, bloody, rag doll.
“Now that's a turn up for the books.” He spat. “Hey ugly, leave her alone and come get a taste of some new blood, or you too chicken...Simba?”
The leonine demonic form snorted fire and turned its head to view the arrogant newcomer, the eyes of flame danced with the challenge – Hope was weakened after expending a great of energy and he dropped her like a toy, she could wait.
“That's more like it mutt.” The Angel of Retribution snapped his hand up with the gun held in his fingers and squeezed the trigger.
With a roar of triumph the demon tensed and leapt at the same time, up and over the other, landing behind him – only to find that Jack was facing him the gun had not yet been fired.
The Angel remedied this with his finger and depressed the trigger.
The firearm spoke in volumes, a single report that sounded more like an inhuman scream of freedom, akin to the wails of a tortured soul. The creature tried to jump again but found that it was boxed in by two large metal crates, it rattled off the side of one and dented it – rocking back right into the line of fire.
“See.” Said Jack with a grin. “Good things come to those who wait.”
A pure force of unleashed angry, traumatised psychic energy roared into the demon and ripped it into fragments, it vanished in a pall of smoke and a flicker of flame. The mysterious fires that rippled around the warehouse died the moment it did.
“Sucker.”
He wandered his way over to the woman and looked down at her, their roles mostly reversed now, he offered his hand.
“No can do Shug.” She said with a racking cough, blood on her lips. “This shell's only good for a few more breaths, I had to take a fall so you'd be able to kill it.”
“Took a hell of a risk.” Jack lit a cigar and looked at the sky. “You going to be coming back?”
“Sure babe.” She closed her eyes. “You know the saying right?”
“Hope is eternal?”
“You'd better believe it toots.”
And that was it, she passed from this mortal world with no tears and no pomp or circumstance, gone on the wind like white smoke.
“She'll be back.” Jack said to the air and turned to leave the building, he chewed on his cigar, his shape shifting as he moved. The flapping sound of a black leather coat snapping into place over his frame echoed into the vastness of the courtyard.
He looked at the nearby vehicles and smiled when he saw a big motorbike, then thoughtfully, he left it where it stood and vanished out of the main gate. It was a short walk, a nice day and he'd got the rest of eternity before him.
“I'll take the bus.”
And here ends, Of Gods and Men...
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Post by TheMacroprosopus on Sept 25, 2004 12:18:09 GMT -5
Rock on! What an ending. That's pretty much all I can say.
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Post by Libby on Sept 25, 2004 12:19:19 GMT -5
AW!!!! I suppose I'd hoped for a traditional happy ending...that Jack might get hs wife back...but it was more a kind of 'Punisher' ending...still those who needed it got what they deserved!
Somehow, I suspect that Hope and Jack's paths will cross again....
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Post by Witcher Wolf on Sept 25, 2004 13:03:58 GMT -5
I have several worlds I draw inspiration and stories from, so these are like short excursions into the whole. I mean it's been long enough now, I could treat you all to the backstory of Breed -- which is a WILD ride, trust me.
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