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Post by BSam on Aug 28, 2007 16:25:46 GMT -5
once it is all wrapped up i might do a writing of some sort of same world after story which would have litrtle effect on the story and also won't hold other people up if i take ages, but just right now, i don't want to commit to anything else i can't deliver
letting too many people down
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Post by PJ on Aug 29, 2007 6:58:37 GMT -5
This ought to be the second last piece. Dunno when the next piece is up. Ive got Internet here, but Im pretty busy, etc.etc.
Enjoy
The Clouds Gather
Thud. Someone at the door. Akbar looked up. He was not in a good mood. This was, officially, his bad mood. Robert coming in here, commandeering his work, turning him into some goddamn propaganda paper! He angily swept a bunch of papers off his desk, and put his face in his hands. PJ’s death had affected him greatly. PJ, the really cool member murderer? Surely not. But BSam? Just as unlikely. BSam did animals. How on earth was he supposed to stop the hearts of n00bs with that power? Some kind of paralysis poison? Scorpion poison or somesuch? But that would surely leave behind traces of somekind. Bah. Something was going on here, and he had no idea what it was. What the hell was Tragedy up to? Why would Sam kidnap Antenora? Nora. He should have spoken to her earlier, but now it was too late. He cursed himself for his idiocy. Right from the start, he should have talked to her. He’d already checked Sam and Antenora’s place, as soon as he’d heard. Empty. Neither were to be found.
What the hell was he supposed to do, now? For all his investigations, his secrecy, his spies, he was still no closer to the truth. The really cool member murderer was still at large, he was sure, no matter what the police would think. As was Gigi’s murderer. Then the person at his door ripped it open and fell through it. Akbar stared at his visitor in shock, as the blood began to seep onto his expensive Persian carpet.
“Cybermystery?” Akbar asked, incredulously. At the mention of his name, CM groaned. “Have…to…tell…” he coughed, trying to pick himself up. Akbar quickly disengaged himself from his swivel chair and helped CM to one of his less expensive couches. “Are you all right?” Akbar asked, thinking it was a stupid question. “Kate…Kate…evil. Behind it…all.”
Akbar’s eyes widened, as he dialed the number for the local hospital. “What? Kate’s behind the really cool member murders?” CM shook his head viciously. “Gigi, I…I think,” he coughed, clutching his bleeding side. “Tell me what happened. All of it,” demanded Akbar softly.
“Got a call…from Pandora. Met her at…at the old bank. Wasn’t Pan. Illusion.” “Illusion? Was Dismay there? She does illusions…” “No. Just Kate. Did something…to my head. Control.” “Control? But that’s what PJ does!” Akbar exclaimed, both excited and confused. “Made me…try and…kill Sam,” Cybermystery wheezed, “but I…failed.”
“An ambulance is on its way,” Akbar said, soothingly, “but I need to know everything you know.” “Called me again. Kate did. Revealed…the illusion. Did …something to me. Took my power, I think,” “She took you power?” Akbar asked, incredulously. “Then…control…broke. She pulled gun, laughed, and…and…shot me. I crawled away, split into two. That’s what…what I do.” “I know, but continue.” “She killed…killed other me. Hurt. Bad. But she didn’t…didn’t know it wasn’t me. Escaped. Ran here. First place that came to mind. Closest. She’s…she’s controlling the others in the group! Pandora’s! But…not James…he’s…he’s one of them! He’s working for her! All…all along.”
Akbar thought furiously. The bomb in the bar. The one BSam had smelt. He had said there was a man. James? Probably. But why? Antenora! She was also there! Kate must have wanted to eliminate her before she started killing. Maybe Sam recognized James? Or maybe Antenora spoke to Gigi? That would explain why they were now in hiding, and why Robert had acted so oddly when he had barged in here with his emergency broadcast. So Sam and Antenora knew something, and were now in hiding, he thought.
Akbar’s eyes widened, and he backed away. Things were falling into place. “Cybermystery,” he asked, faintly, “can you manage it on your own for a while? The ambulance should be here any minute now, but I have to go out. I have to stop Kate. Will you be ok?” Cybermystery nodded vigorously, and Akbar threw him a weak smile, before striding over to his office door and throwing it open. “Get well soon,” Akbar advised, “we may need your power. And…don’t tell anyone else about this. Looks like Kate has got quite a few people out there, and if she gets wind that you’re still alive…”
Then Akbar strode out of his office, and time froze all around him. He had to move quick. The enemy had been too sneaky, and even now could be up to no good. The entire forum was looking for Sam and Antenora, and it looked like they held the last pieces to this puzzle. This didn’t sound like random murders. This was something different entirely. Kate had been behind Gigi’s murder, he thought, exiting his building. And James was working for her. Kate and James.
What to do now? Kate could take people’s powers, apparently. She had PJ’s and Dismay’s and now…oh god…now she had Cybermystery’s. Had she framed PJ? Perhaps. Was she the really cool member murderer? Maybe. But she seemed to be different. Gigi and Cybermystery had been shot, the really cool member murders had been done by someone else. If only he could contact Antenora…
Antenora. He had to find her. But how? Robert…mind-controlled…who could he trust? Kate had Dismay’s power. So he couldn’t trust Dismay, even if what had happened was involuntary. He couldn’t be sure. Robert was being mind-controlled. Couldn’t trust anyone there, either. Pandora’s group was gone, too, he thought. The conspicuous lack of Tragedy or Pandora in this case seemed to indicate that they were out of play, as well. The only ones he knew for sure were trustworthy were Sam and Antenora. And Cybermystery, but he didn’t seem to be in any condition to help much. Skeleton Key, too, he could probably still trust. 3 people, was all he had. But 3 wasn’t enough.
No, the best thing to do would be to find Sam and Antenora. So where would Sam go if he was in hiding? Where? The answer came to Akbar at once, and he cursed himself for not thinking of it before. He was so busy, doing so many things, he realized, that he didn’t have enough time to go into detail in any of them. Something he would have to amend, in the future. But first, he had to save 667. Kate had snuck in, and had all but wiped out any resistance. Except for him. He had remained hidden, like her, and it had saved him. Time to use this advantage to strike back.
Sure enough, there they were. Sam and Annelise and Antenora, all asleep in the living room. Antenora looked to be hurt; but everyone else seemed all right. Still, something prevented him from stepping out and waking them all up. He hadn’t revealed himself properly to anyone; his power and his position were secret, and his life had probably been saved because of it. No-one but Skeleton Key and Dismay knew that he was gathering information, that he was acting, that he was planning, and even they didn’t know that he had a power. No, he thought, I will remain in the shadows for a bit longer. Should my plan fail, then I will act as the failsafe. Besides. Akbar was a pacifist, and didn’t want to fight unless he had to.
Antenora awoke. Everything was dark. But there was someone here, she felt. She felt dizzy, and had an enormous headache. And, curiously, she couldn’t move her body. In fact, she wasn’t even breathing, she saw. And she had a sneaking suspicion that her heart wasn’t beating. But she seemed to be fine. Or was she dead? “Hello?” she asked, surprised that her lips were moving, and a voice answered. “Why hello there, Antenora,” it said. “Who are you?” she asked, frightened. Where was she? Why was it so dark? What had happened? Was this death?
“That’s not important. I’m here to help. But I need to know everything you know, Antenora. I need to know it all so I can put everything right. 667 is on the brink of disaster, and only you can help pull it back.”
Something about the voice was deeply soothing. Everything was so confusing and strange, but Antenora decided to tell him. She felt like telling someone, anyhow. The more people who knew, the more chance that someone would stop Ann and her murderous ways. So she told the dark figure everything. She told them about the bomb, and how she was talking to the dead, about how she had talked to Gigi, and Tragedy, and how they had revealed that Ann had killed them, that Ann had some sort of strange power that stopped other people’s powers from working. She told him about the extents of her power, and she told him about Klaus19, and how she had almost died.
But she did not tell the figure that Dante was the really cool member murderer. This she kept to herself, although she did mention that Dante had telekinesis, when the figure asked her if she knew of anyone who might help them in their struggle against Ann. She hope the figure would get Dante. Or at least warn him. Dante, who put everything right, Dante…Dante…Dante…
She fainted. It was lucky she was so concussed, Akbar thought, striding out of the room, past the frozen figures of BSam and Annelise. And it was even luckier, for her, that Annelise had been around to heal her from Klaus19’s brutal attack. Kate and James, and Ann and Klaus19, he thought. He now had both sides of the stories. And Dante, that was interesting. A whole new story in his own right. He’d have to do something about that. Libitina stuck in the rockslide. That couldn’t have been PJ. Linda’s prophecy was right, after all, he thought. Libitina was instrumental in uncovering the Rogue. But Dante had power, and Akbar was sure that he’d help fight Kate and Ann. But justice had to be served.
He now had all the information. The whole story. Knowledge is power, he thought. I have, it and they don’t. They didn’t know about him, they didn’t know about Dante, and they didn’t know about Sam and Antenora. He had all the cards, now. So he had to strike. Before 667 crumbled.
Dante had just received a message from Tragedy. Meeting at town hall at noon, tomorrow, it read. Perhaps it was about Gigi’s death, he thought. But then he saw the other message. From someone unknown. “Dante. Do not go to the meeting. It is a trap.”
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Post by Dismay on Aug 29, 2007 8:07:30 GMT -5
Cool! I loved it. I can't wait to see what happens after this.
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Post by Linda Rhaldeen on Aug 29, 2007 17:10:35 GMT -5
Wonderful.
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Post by PJ on Sept 5, 2007 11:33:34 GMT -5
The end is here! Sorry it took so damn long, but I'm too busy having fun over here. It's a huge chunk of text, but I didn't want to split it up (irony! I tried to post, but it's too much, so I have to split it up). So meh. Re-reading it, I don't know whether to laugh or be awed by it's epic-ness. You'll see. Also, tell all your friends to read this.
Ragnarok
The time had come. The master plan was about to be revealed. All the pieces were in place, all the remaining players were on the field. The battle for 667 was about to begin.
They were ascending the steps. Kate and Ann, side by side, step by step, walked up the enormous stairs leading to the Hall of Moderators. James and Klaus19, a few steps lower, followed them silently.
The meeting had been called. “Tragedy” himself had made the call. All G-Mods, Moderators and Detriment Deleters to report to the Hall of Moderators at noon. All, that is, except for those who were dead or already being mind-controlled.
With the staff of 667 dead, there would be no one to look up to anymore, no one to take control, no one to oppose the chaos that Kate and Ann planned. But why? Why all the chaos and destruction? Why not? They felt like it. And when the dust settled, they’d be able to take control, and do with 667 whatever they wanted.
With the moderators gone, there was no one left for BSam or Antenora to warn. Kate and Ann could reveal themselves at last, and start messing with people in earnest. Sam and Antenora would be caught, sooner or later. And…the media. They’d have to take over the media. Kate made a mental note to pay Akbar a visit soon.
They had reached the top. Dramatic, Ann thought. This would have to be dramatic. “You,” she said to Klaus19. “Open these doors for us.” Klaus19 stepped forward, obediently, and, using her enormous strength, she hurled both of the enormous door open with a resounding crash. The quartet marched in. All was silent.
They stood still for a moment. “Where,” demanded Ann finally, “is everyone?” The Hall was empty.
The silence was broken by a loud, animalistic roar that seemed to echo through the Hall and reverberate eerily all around them. It was a primal roar of repression and sorrow, but most of all, of unfettered rage. It was coming from behind them. As one, the group spun, and caught the first glimpse of their adversaries, all the way across a great concrete square that marked the centre of 667.
They had sought to divide, to separate, to control. But together they now stood, the remnants of 667, the last resistance. Brought together, at last, by someone no-one had counted on.
Four of them. Divided, they were weak, but together, they were strong. The Heroes and Villains of 667. Here they all were, evenly matched, one for each.
The silence was broken abruptly by Kate laughing maniacally. Ann wore a bemused expression on her face, but was grasping the gun in her pocket tightly. Klaus19 and James wore stony expressions. They were minions. They would be the first to fall, they figured, if it came to a fight. Things hadn’t gone quite as either of them had planned. But it was far too late to get out, now.
“I’m…I’m actually quite glad there’s going to be a fight before the end,” said Kate after a moment, a wide grin on her face. “I almost thought this was going to be easy,” added Ann, with a shrug, also grinning, as though she was in on a some sort of joke.
Antenora stepped forwards, a determined look on her face. “You will pay for you crimes,” she spoke, softly, but in a way that somehow carried all the way across the big square. “All of you.” “You and what army?” Kate laughed, suddenly splitting into two. Then three. Then 12. Then more. More, more, more.
“I have an army,” declared the crowd of Kate Clones as one, and they began to march forward, toward the four resisting 667ers, like a human tidal wave.
Antenora closed her eyes, and held her arms up, as though she was beckoning to the horde of bloodthirsty clones coming towards her. And then something quite unexpected began to happen. She began to glow. White energy rippled through her, around her, in her, and soon she was shining brightly, lit up like a lightbulb. A strange keening, howling noise arose, as though a great wind was sweeping through 667, but nothing stirred; there was no wind today. The army of Kates advanced, nonetheless. Atop the stairs of the Mod Hall, Kate, Ann, James and Klaus19 watched, expectantly. The 667ers were up to something, no doubt. But Kate was still squeezing out a few clones. It weakened her, however. The effort of holding all the clones was tiring her. There was a limit to her power. But she smiled nonetheless.
The horde advanced, Antenora continued to pulse with an unearthly light. Things seemed to arrive at a crescendo of sorts, and then, all of a sudden, the unearthly howling sound stopped. Antenora opened her eyes, and the light white that was blazing from them shone like fire across the great square. Everyone waited, expectantly, and then in the large concrete area between the two groups of 667ers, something moved. A ghostly white figure rose out of the ground in a blaze of white light. Everyone looked at it expectantly. It looked around, noiselessly, and then caught sight of the advancing army. It opened its mouth and screamed silently in rage. Even from this far away, Ann could see that it was Pandora. Pandora, who had died by her hands not long ago.
Ann couldn’t help it. She gasped and stepped back. Another blaze of light, and out of the ground rose Tragedy, beside Pandora. He began to march resolutely towards Kate and Ann, and the look on his face was terrible to behold. In life, Tragedy sure had been imposing, but in death, his wrath was terrifying.
More of the Dead arrived. Gigi, and PJ (he shot a knowing look up to Dante, who remained impassive, fighting to keep his face blank) and the scores and scores of n00bs Dante had murdered over the last few weeks. Others, who had died by natural causes, soon joined them. And, as one, the ghostly army of deceased 667ers marched silently towards Kate’s army of clones.
Kate’s face looked pale. Her confidence had taken a blow. But she soon regained her composure. So they had an army? She had other weapons. “Ann,” she called over to her ally, who was standing a short distance away, so as not to interfere with her power, “You need to get over to Antenora. Kill her, or just get close enough so that you cancel out her powers, and the ghosts will disappear.” Ann nodded, and started off, drawing her pistol. “You two,” Kate continued, gesturing weakly towards Klaus19 and James. “Protect her.”
The three villains descended the steps, steering clear of the advancing armies. BSam, Dante and Skeleton Key, on the other side, left Antenora behind, to meet their opponents.
And then, the armies clashed. Clone met ghost, and the greatest fight 667 would ever witness began in earnest. The clones had the vast majority, but they were only human, after all. Devoid of emotion, unaffected by pain or fatigue, they would fight until the bitter end. But they could die. Antenora’s warriors, on the other hand, numbered far less, but they had already perished; they were immortal and carried within them the burning desire to protect 667, to right their wrongs and avenge their murders
Ann charged forward, her pistol drawn. From this range, it was impossible to hit Antenora, but Skeleton Key, BSam and Dante were close enough. She raised her pistol, and fired a shot at BSam.
Dante raised his hand, stopping the bullet dead in the air. “You will commit no more murders today,” he announced grimly, letting the bullet fall. “We’ll see about that!” shrieked Ann, running towards Dante. Telekinesis, eh? A surprise, but nothing she couldn’t deal with. As soon as she got close, his power would be useless.
James and Klaus19 ran behind her, wishing Ann wouldn’t charge ahead so recklessly. She may be able to deal with everyone’s powers, but she wasn’t bullet proof. If any of their enemies carried a gun, things could go nasty. So intent were the pair on their mistress, they didn’t notice that two of their three opponents had disappeared.
A moment later, Chameleon!Sam crash tackled Klaus19 from the side, charging into her like a rhino. Simultaneously, a small shadow sprang from the other side, towards James, expanding rapidly in mid-air so that Skeleton Key engulfed the unwary henchmen in an instant.
But James was not to be underestimated. With the force of a small explosion, he burst into flame, throwing the amorphous mass of shadow that was Gretchen aside. Fire coursing across his body, the human flame stood ready as the human shadow picked herself up. Both opponents glared at each other for a moment, the shadow burning darkly across Skeleton Key’s body in a mad imitation of James. The moment seemed to stretch on, for an eternity, and then both leapt at each other, fire and shadow mixing, both opponents doing their best to consume the other.
A few meters away, meanwhile, Sam and Klaus19 were circling each other, ignoring the burning mass of shadow that writhed on the floor to their right. “Why are you doing this?” slurred Sam, the vodka in his veins burning like fire. He was an angry drunk. And he was not to be messed with. Still, ought to try for peace, first. Deirdre, however, refused to be drawn in conversation, and continued circling her opponent, standing like a wrestler, ready to throw a punch.
Sam nodded grimly, and quickly downed another shot of vodka from his hip-flask. Deirdre was strong, he knew. She had super-strength, or something like it. But Sam had all the cunning of the animal kingdom at his disposal, and would not be dealt with easily.
He was flicking through forms now, quickly, as though unsure of what to settle on. Feathers turned to scales which turned to rough leathery hide; his mandibles were replaced one moment by the muzzle of a wolf, the next by a large pair of horns. He hoped it would confuse her, keep her off guard.
Then Deirdre sprang forward, swiping viciously at Sam’s head. The drunk wheeled back and fell over, dodging the blow, and kicked wildly at Deirdre’s knee with the heavy hooves of a buffalo. Klaus19 backed away with a howl, then struck again, but this time, Sam was ready, and dodged aside, whipping his opponent across the face with a stinging tentacle. Deirdre ignored the blow and kicked wildly at Sam; he fended to the right, but she then lunged forward and drove her fist into his stomach. Sam had been prepared for this, however, and quickly thought of jellyfishes; the blow sunk ineffectively into the jelly that was now Sam’s stomach. And before his opponent could recover, Sam viciously swiped at her with the claws of a cheetah, slashing deep gashes in Klaus19’s arm. Gasping, she backed away, cradling her wounded arm.
Meanwhile, Ann was charging towards Dante, who stood perfectly still, eying her down. As she drew closer, he suddenly flicked his hand, as though swatting away a fly, and a nearby garbage bin hurled towards the unsuspecting Ann. She shrieked and ducked, and the projectile whizzed just over her head. She responded by firing her gun, but the bullet, once again, was caught by Dante. She recognized the flaw in her plan: she could stop Dante couldn’t kill her with his power, and she could stop him using his power on objects if she was either close enough to him or the objects, but she had no way of slowing down whatever he threw at her once they entered her power-negating field.
With a scream of rage, Ann dashed towards Dante as fast as she could. Dante fended backwards, violently ripping out chunks of the pavement before him and hurling it savagely at his opponent, who barely dived aside. He couldn’t attack her directly with his telekinesis, but he could still throw stuff at her. The only problem was, once his projectiles entered the nullifying field around her, his powers weren’t able to steer them any more, so she would always have a split second in which she could dodge. The trick, he thought, was to hurl a whole bunch of stuff at her at once.
A playful grin played across his face as he began plucking singular bricks out of the pavement and holding them in the air before him. He was about to hurl the whole lot of them at Ann when he saw her raise her gun again. Too late, he tried to block the bullet, but he had been too careless, too preoccupied, too confident, and the bullet whizzed into his side, just under the arm. With a roar of pain, he hurled the mass of bricks at Ann, and stumbled backwards, clutching his wounded side. The bullet had entered him right on the edge of his ribcage, so he didn’t think it had hit any organs or anything, but he was still in a lot of pain and was bleeding quite badly. He quickly centered his power on the bullet, drawing it out with a sharp gasp of pain, and then staunched the blood and forced his wound closed. It would do for now.
Dante hadn’t seen whether or not he had hit her with the bricks, but Ann was clutching her arm and was walking towards him, gun raised. She was getting quite close… rage flooded through him, giving him new strength. He reached far below her, below her nullifying field, and hurled everything upwards sharply. With a muffled thump, the ground below her buckled explosively, violently hurling her to the ground. Then he tore the ground up in front of him and sent a wave of debris hurtling towards her. The wave entered her nullifying field, and then broke, showering her with bricks and dirt and concrete. But the initial force of the wave was gone, so all she received were bruises.
Had Dante been the type to curse vehemently, he would have done so now. Instead, his eyes narrowed, and he forced himself to calm down. As his last attack proved, blind force was not always helpful. And he had to be careful of that damn gun. Another stray bullet might well kill him.
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Post by PJ on Sept 5, 2007 11:33:52 GMT -5
Meanwhile, the battle of the two armies was well underway. Vastly outnumbered, the deathless ghost warriors barely held back the oncoming force of Kate Clones by forming a straggly line between the Clones and Antenora. The ghosts were immortal, and could not be harmed, but Kate was consistently pumping out new clones to replace the ones defeated by Antenora’s ghosts. Only one clone had to get by in order to take out Antenora, and then the whole battle would be lost.
Antenora sat, crosslegged, and watched her army battling the enemy as calmly as she’d watch some sort of sport match. In truth, the effort of bringing all these ghosts into her world was colossal, but Antenora was driven by two all-consuming purposes: the desire for justice, and the protection of 667. She sat, resolute as a mountain, and directed her troops. But she had recently been seriously injured, and she was only human, after all. This couldn’t last forever, and she was pushing her limits as it were.
Kate, on the other hand, had her own problems. Creating clones was simple, easy. Directing an army of them was slightly more complicated, but that’s what her power was; it wasn’t that difficult. Still, her energy was slowly being drained away; she couldn’t keep this up forever. Furthermore, every single hit, every punch and every kick directed at one of her clones she felt. Admittedly, the feeling was greatly muted, as it was divided up between all of her clones, but it wasn’t just one clone out there being abused; there was an entire army. None of them had died yet, thank god, but she was dreading what would happen when it did. And just as she thought this, her first clone finally died, after being knocked unconscious by a wrathful Tragedy and trampled by its own companions. The death surged through Kate, like a blast of electricity, making her cry out in pain. But still she held on, and still her army advanced. She would win, damnit, she thought, with gritted teeth. She threw a glance over to her companions to see how they were doing.
Sam ducked another vicious blow by leaping away on frog’s legs. This was getting harder and harder to do, and all of his own hits seemed to have almost no effect on Klaus19. He himself was covered in particularly nasty bruises (and she had only brushed him) and suspected that at least one rib was broken (she had hit him at full force in the stomach again, but this time he had opted for an insect exoskeleton. While it had caused her to howl in pain as she slammed her fist against the hard surface, Klaus19 still managed to break at least one of his bones). He leapt aside and suddenly spat poison at his opponent, but as it did not hit Deirdre in the face, it did little but anger her more.
Meanwhile, fire and shadow were still dueling. It was strange sight, this mass of burning darkness, but the battle had gotten to the frantic stage; both opponents were tiring, and desperate to finish each other off. With surprising strength, Skeleton Key expanding viciously, looking like some kind of cloud of billowing darkness, and then wrapped herself entirely around the unnatural fire that was James. There was a brief struggle, in which James tried to frantically blast his way out from within the smothering darkness, but Skeleton Key hung on with iron fierceness. She was burning, his very touch caused her intense pain, like holding burning coals, but she held on, smothering him, crushing him. And all of a sudden, it was over. The fire winked out, as James died, consumed and suffocated by the living shadows of Gretchen.
The mass of darkness shrank and coalesced into a humanoid form. She staggered towards Sam, smoking, her usually pale face covered in her own ash. She tried to speak, perhaps to reveal her epitaph, or perhaps simply to ask for help, but the words would not come. With a look of extreme sorrow on her face, Skeleton Key fell to the floor and did not get up. Sam’s eyes widened as she turned into shadow and then dissolved away, leaving nothing. There was a brief moment of hope, but then he saw, out of the corner of his eye, two more flashes of white on the battlefield, as two new ghosts joined the battle: James and Skeleton Key. Gretchen was dead. She had died to protect Antenora, she had died for 667.
And this thought filled Sam with fury. She was only a child! This was all wrong! He danced backwards, avoiding another deadly swipe of Klaus19’s super-powered fists and downed his entire hip flask. The vodka seared his throat, his belly, but he didn’t care anymore. Icy rage flowed through him, as he prepared to end his opponent.
He leant backwards, his cheetah legs poised, and he built up the tension within them. Then all of a sudden he pounced. He powered straight towards the surprised Deirdre, his hands already changing into razor sharp mandibles, dripping with deadly poison. He was going to do this right, he thought, as the jagged blades entered Klaus19’s body. She shuddered horribly, and then was still.
Sam kicked her body off his mandibles, feeling sorrow for what he had done, and sorrow for the reasons that had prompted Deirdre to commit her crimes. Then he shook his head, and stalked forwards, towards the clashing armies. He would fight, and continue to fight, until the bitter end. Like Klaus19. Like James. And like Skeleton Key.
Their duel was coming to an end, Dante felt. His wound still burned in his side, but he was resolutely ignoring the pain. Ann, on the other hand, was looking a great deal worse for wear. She was bleeding from a dozen small wounds and was limping badly. The end had almost come, for Ann.
The two opponents circled each other, warily. Dante kept his eyes trained on that blasted pistol, ready to block any bullets that might come his way. The two kept moving, kept staring, warily, waiting for the other to attack. Suddenly, a demented smile spread across Ann’s face. “You might be able to stop bullets,” she began, raising her gun, “but what about her?” She swung the gun suddenly around, aiming for Antenora, who, Dante now realized, Ann had slowly been moving closer to. She was now within firing range.
There was no time to, once again, curse his own ineptitude, no time to cry out, to do anything at all except try and stop the bullet. The gun fired, and time seemed to slow for Dante. The bullet sped towards his beloved, and he raised his hand and sped after it, trying desperately to outrun it with his telekinesis, while, with his other hand, he ripped a nearby stair rail out of its foundations and broke it into smaller, sharper pieces.
He caught the bullet, just before it hit her. But already the gun was moving, was swinging back, and he braced himself as it fired, and, almost lazily, caught that bullet, too. Then, with his other hand, he hurled the sharpened remains of the stair rail towards Ann in one fluid motion. They whistled as they flew through the air, and with a thud, one of the makeshift spears pierced Ann’s heart.
A barely audible groan escaped her mouth as she fell backwards, dead. And then, as she fell, something curious happened. Her gun was finally empty of bullets. Ann was dead. But, inexplicably, as though someone had reloaded the gun, aimed it at Dante, and pulled the trigger all within a single, frozen moment, the gun fired, and the impossible bullet met its target. Dante snapped backwards, landing roughly on the pavement, blood already spilling forth from the wound, the light in his eyes darkening. And there they lay, the two murderers of 667, their empty eyes glancing upwards, as justice had been dealt out by an unseen hand. Out on the battlefield, their ghosts rose out from the floor, and they joined the fight.
Antenora’s eyes widened as she saw her beloved Dante rise up from the floor. No! She turned to her side, to where she had seen him battling Ann but a few moments ago, and saw the two bodies lying spread-eagled on the pavement, having seemingly finished each other off. Everything seemed to go blurry, and she realized she was screaming. She stood, and the blazing white light intensified as she descended the steps, heading towards the battle itself, her purpose clear.
As the energy coursing through Antenora intensified, a ripple seemed to pass through the battlefield. More ghosts were arriving in burst of white energy, ghosts from the past, ghosts from long ago. The horde of ghosts grew thicker, and each of the ghosts seemed to shine more brightly, seemed more solid, more strong, more angry. The bitter, sorrowful wrath of Antenora spread throughout the ghosts and empowered them, filled them with energy, with purpose, with anger. The army of ghosts marched forwards, driving the clones back, crushing them, killing them. And Sam, who was at the front of it all, hurling clones aside and tearing through their ranks, instantly recognized that something was wrong. As the ghosts swarmed past him, he caught sight of Antenora, who was slowly walking forwards, a blazing beacon of ghostly energy, driving her army forwards. And he knew then that something had gone wrong. Antenora was pushing too hard. No single person was supposed to have this much power. There would be consequences.
“Antenora!” he shouted, but she couldn’t hear him. He was pushing through the advancing ghosts, trying to get at her, but more and more of them were arriving every moment, and the ghosts were ignoring him entirely. “Antenora!” he shouted again, as he burst through a group of ghosts. Enough people had died today, this had to stop.
He rushed towards her, but she ignored him, marching resolutely forward, towards Kate, towards the enemy. “You have to stop this!” urged Sam. “You can’t keep this up!” he shouted, grabbing her arm. But his hand passed right through her, as though she was wasn’t there. He stumbled backwards as the blazing Antenora forged onwards, summoning more ghosts, directing her army, her mind focused entirely on revenge. And then he glanced back, and caught sight of the small figure, lying back at the top of the stairs. Even from here, it was unmistakable. “Oh no…” he whispered, eyes wide with horror.
The ghost army was unstoppable, and swept through the army of Kates as though they weren’t there. They drove the clones back, back up the stairs, back up to the entrance of the Hall of Moderators, where the infuriated Kate stood, summoning up handfuls of clones and unsuccessfully sending them to fend off the horde of approaching ghosts.
But the ghosts would not be deterred, and Kate was forced to retreat into the Hall before the army of dead 667ers, her own allies now amongst them. The ghosts poured into the Hall after her, quickly dealing with the few clones she left behind as she fled.
Kate sprinted to the end of the Hall, breathing hard. She was exhausted, and utterly defeated. She searched vainly for a backdoor, a way out, but was disappointed. There was only one entrance, and it was now blocked. She stood on the platform at the end of the Hall, the ghosts still advancing upon her. But the army of ghosts stopped at the foot of the steps leading to the platform. Kate was surrounded. And then Antenora entered the Hall, looking like a wrathful god, white energy blazing all around as her so that it was hard to look at her.
Kate saw all the dead 667ers before her, ones she had killed, ones she had once known, ones that had been her allies. The sea of ghosts parted, and Antenora began to slowly walk towards her. Kate stood frozen as her adversary approached, her eyes drawn to Antenora in all of her blazing glory.
Antenora arrived at the bottom of the steps and looked up at Kate, her eyes burning woth hatred. Kate shivered and took a step back, and then tried to mind-control her foe, but Antenora began to climb the stairs; the mind-control wasn’t working. With a scream of rage, Kate leapt at her, but Antenora grabbed her hand and forced Kate back. Kate began to scream as the burning white energy began to course from Antenora’s hand into Kate’s arm, and then into her entire body, until she too was covered in the blazing white energy, screaming as loud as she could, and then –
A silent explosion of white light blasted through the Hall, and Sam, who was outside, cradling a body in his hands, glanced up in time to see the entire Hall of Moderators light up from the inside. And then the light disappeared, leaving the entire area blank and clear, as though the battle had never happened. The clones, the ghosts, Kate, all had disappeared without a trace, leaving only the bodies of the other 667ers: Dante and Ann, James and Skeleton Key, and Klaus19.
Sam glanced down at Antenora’s pale face, hopefully, but the light did not return to her eyes. She had been dead the moment she had stood up and advanced upon Kate, leaving her weak, failing body behind.
The battle was won, and Sam was its only survivor. Akbar watched from afar, his face grim. Justice had been served. 667 was saved. Now, he hoped, those under mind-control would be free once more. Many had died, including half of the staff, and most of the n00bs.
667 would endure, but it had been irreversibly changed forever.
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Post by Dismay on Sept 5, 2007 12:44:17 GMT -5
Woah. I think I'm speechless. That was amazing. Except I somehow disappeared.
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Post by Linda Rhaldeen on Sept 5, 2007 14:43:57 GMT -5
Wow. Like you said, PJ, I think I've just been awed by its epic-ness.
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Post by BSam on Sept 10, 2007 1:44:40 GMT -5
wow, i'm awesome, i mean well written
nice one
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