|
Post by Nightshine on Oct 25, 2004 19:16:49 GMT -5
Well, this is a story that I just decided to write one day... *shrugs* It just popped into my head. I'm hoping to finish it, and will update it from time to time. Enjoy.Shadows of the Past
The modern age of man… A time when mankind is fervently trying to better itself, always reached for a greater goal. Humanity will never be satisfied until its capabilities are limitless… which is evident in one such case, at a research facility in the southern Californian desert…<br> Two men strode slowly through the facility halls, looking through labs, observing the various equipment, and the mechanics and staff all working tirelessly. One was dressed in military attire, seeming to be a general of sorts. The other was a scientist, wearing a white lab coat, and toting a clipboard. The general spoke. “So, explain to me again the nature of this project, Dr., uh…?”<br>“Whitman, sir, David Whitman.” replied the scientist. He was a tall, fit man, with short brown hair and confident green eyes. A small pair of glasses was perched on the brink of his nose. “Well, General, sir. Allow me, if you will, to portray a brief picture in your mind.” The general nodded. “Picture for a moment, the wondrous abilities of two very common animals: dogs and cats. Though they may be smaller and less intelligent than human beings, they can still accomplish many things that we cannot…. But that is where project MERGE comes in. We would like to try and imbue these animalistic qualities… into human beings. I mean, just think of the possibilities, sir! Mankind, able to perform the same proportionate abilities as that of a feline: being able to leap many times your own height, to see in the dark; to have supersonic hearing. Or of a canine: Proportionately, human beings could be capable of running up to 50 miles an hour, maybe more; or to have an extremely strong sense of smell…. or maybe combining both feline and canine. I mean, think of the military capabilities!”<br>Dr. Whitman’s eyes beamed as he spoke of this, and it was obvious that he enjoyed talking about his work. But the general seemed skeptical. “And exactly how where we planning on doing this, Dr.?”<br>“Well, sir, through our research, we have found a way to extract DNA from canines or felines, and merge it with human DNA, producing a “hybrid” of sorts.”<br>The general raised his eyebrow. “But, wouldn’t this cause a mutation?” Dr. Whitman shook his head. “No, sir. Our equipment can specially modify the DNA, and causes the mutations to become dormant. Theoretically, once this happens, the mutations lay dormant forever… unless they were to become de-stabilized. But it would take a tremendous amount of energy to do that, either that or a very large emotional shift in the subject, and we can easily keep that under control.”<br>The general stopped walking, and turned fully towards the scientist, frowning. “Now, there has to be some kind of catch. This is sounding too easy.” Dr. Whitman’s brow creased. “Well… the process is said to be painful, even with the medication we’ve produced for it. And….”<br>“And what?” asked the general, folding his arms. “Well, the only way the procedure would work, would be if the subject had a certain blood type.”<br>“…What blood type?” the general asked. “Well, General, um… we don’t know exactly. It’s an unknown blood type, one that hasn’t been charted in any human being.” The general frowned even more, but Dr. Whitman held up a finger. “But… we concluded that this blood type is only active in children, and after a certain age, the blood type is neutralized, and changes to normal. We’ve searched hospital records everywhere in the country, and there have only been ten such cases of an unknown blood type. We believe that this is the blood type we need.” The general kept frowning for a few moments, his brow creased in thought. Then he began walking off. “I’ll see to it that you get your subjects, Dr. Whitman.” The scientist stood for a few seconds, amazed. Then he called after him. “But what about the children’s families?”<br>The general stopped in his tracks for a moment, a grim look on his face. “They will be taken care of, Dr.” He replied, and walked around a corner, leaving the puzzled scientist to himself.
|
|
|
Post by Nightshine on Oct 25, 2004 19:17:56 GMT -5
A few weeks after…<br> It was nighttime, in a peaceful suburb in Dallas, Texas. In a quiet house on the corner, a couple were just settling down to rest, having laid their 7 year-old child down in his bed. They snuggled up together, and had just turned out the lights, when they heard the distant sound of a helicopter, steadily growing louder. As they sat up, the noise grew deafening, as if it were right above them. Suddenly, through their bedroom window, they saw several masked soldiers rappelling down past their room to the ground. They threw on some bathrobes, and bolted down the hall towards the stairs. As they reached the foot of the stairs, there was a loud crash, and they could see searchlights sweeping through the lower floor. “Hey, what in the world is going on here? Who are you people?” yelled the husband as he raced downstairs. He reached the bottom of the stairs, and as he turned towards the door, he suddenly froze and gasped in fright. There was a deafening boom, and he collapsed on the floor, blood pooling around him. The wife screamed, and ran down the hall to her son’s room. The soldiers rushed past the body and up the stairs with shotguns leveled. They went from room to room, kicking open the doors and searching quickly. They reached the son’s room, and kicked open the door without hesitation. Suddenly the lead soldier was forced to shield himself from a barrage of blows from a long broom handle, as the wife beat him back. “Don’t you come any closer!” she was screaming, and the soldier ran back into the hallway. Two more soldiers spun into the doorway, and let off one shot from their shotguns. There was a scream, and the wife fell, sprawled on the ground. They rushed in and shone their lights around, until one landed on the little boy, sitting up in bed and in tears, screaming for his mother. Immediately, a soldier ran up and grabbed him from the bed, putting a cloth over the boy’s face. He instantly fell silent and limp, and they carried him away. As they reached the front door, the last soldier carried a flamethrower, and he went about setting the house aflame, burning all evidence of the raid. They ran down the street to an open field, where the helicopter had landed temporarily. There were angry shouts from the neighbors, but by the time they had poked their heads out of their windows, the chopper was gone. The only thing that could be heard were sirens in the distance, as the little house slowly burned to the ground.
* * *
Three years later…<br> In a large, dark room, in the wide hallways of the MERGE facility, ten children slept in their bunks, each one dressed in gray fatigues, with dog tags around their necks. They all bore long scars in one of their arms, and there were tattoos on their arms and necks. For children of their age, they were quite fit and well muscled. They were hooked up to small bedside machines by many small wires, which monitored their vitals. A small camera observed them from a corner of the ceiling, and the scientists and researchers of the project watched the monitor intensely from a nearby observation room. Dr. Whitman was there, also. “Are we sure we want to do this?” asked one other scientist. Dr. Whitman nodded slowly. “There is nothing else we can do…” he sighed. “The project was a failure. The children are developing too slowly, and with very little signs.” His hand gripped a small lever on the control panel. “ How could we have failed? We even combined the panther DNA with the wolf’s DNA before we fused it with the children’s, to ensure our chance of success. Can’t we at least keep Subject #10?” asked the scientist. “Bane… I mean, Subject #10 has shown the most progress out of all of them, and he should come along quite well. We can’t just abandon the project like this…” “We have no choice,” said Dr. Whitman firmly. “They pulled our funding. We weren’t getting enough results, even with the combined DNA…. And there can be no evidence,” he said quietly. The other scientist threw up his hands in resignation. Dr. Whitman stood with his head bowed, watching the monitor for a few more moments. Then he sighed again, and slowly pulled the lever. Nothing appeared to happen for a moment, and then a thick green toxic gas slowly seeped from the vents. Monitors along another side of the wall showed the children’s vital signs, and there were attendants watching them. “Subject #8’s heart rate rapidly slowing,” stated one. “#2’s also,” said another. Soon reports were flying through the air, the children’s hearts slowly failing. Dr. Whitman still stood with head bowed, solemnly watching the monitor. But inside the room, one of the children stirred slightly, a ten year-old African-American boy. His head moved slowly from side to side, and his eyes twitched. Shadowy images flashed past in his slowly decaying mind. Blurred pictures of spotlights; a loud shot, and an echoing scream as a figure fell to the floor. More shadowy figures moved towards him in his mind’s eye, and the scream still lingered. Back in the control room, one of the attendant’s eyes widened, and she turned towards Dr. Whitman slowly. “Um, #10’s heart rate… climbing steadily, sir,” she said unbelievingly. Dr. Whitman’s head quickly rose, and he hurried over to the monitor. Sure enough, the heart monitor was beeping steadily, and ever rising in pace. “What the…” said the doctor, and moved back towards the camera monitor. But nothing could be seen through the thick gas. All of the children’s hearts had failed… all except #10. In the bunkroom, #10 still lay, more and more images flitting past in his fervent dreams. Some he could not make sense of, many shadowy figures, and bright lights. But suddenly, he saw a brief image of his mother, and then heard her scream as she fell to the ground. Then finally, there was an image of her laying there, her glazed eyes staring blankly forward. Suddenly, on the heart monitor, his vital signs skyrocketed, and his eyes snapped open suddenly. They were large, and the pupils were slitted, like a cat’s eye. They glowed brightly with a golden color. A loud, deafening roar could be heard throughout the entire facility. It sounded like a mix between a panther’s roar and a wolf’s howl. Dr. Whitman ran to the heart monitors, but his vital signs had disappeared. He ran back to the camera, but the gas still shrouded everything. Suddenly a dark shape flashed in front of the camera, and then the screen went blank, replaced by static. Dr. Whitman stood rooted to the spot in horror. “Quickly! Change it to the hallway camera!” he yelled. The screen then switched to a camera outside of the bunkroom door. Then he suddenly gasped. The monitor clearly showed the outer door, which had been torn down, and thrown off its hinges. Then there suddenly was a loud thud against the observation room door, and all eyes turned towards it. Dr. Whitman’s eyes were wide, his mind racing. There was another crash, and the metal door was visibly dented. Something was trying to get in… Something big. Suddenly Dr. Whitman’s eyes widened even more, and he froze as the cold realization dawned on him. “A mutation…” he said quietly. Another thud, and there was a loud growling behind the door. They were trapped. But all Dr. Whitman was thinking was that his experiment had at least partly succeeded. Then there was a final crash, and the door gave way, flying madly to the side. The last thing Dr. Whitman saw was a very large, dark shape hurtling towards him, with long fangs bared…
|
|
|
Post by Nightshine on Oct 25, 2004 19:18:51 GMT -5
Later that night, the county sheriff stood in front of the facility watching as firefighters attempted to enter the burning building. He looked around at the empty desert about him, but could see no signs of any other life, other than a few police teams. A deputy approached him from the cluster of police cars, ambulances, and other emergency vehicles. The sheriff spoke to him. “Any survivors or witnesses?” The deputy shook his head. “No, sir. We still have fire teams scouring the building, but all they’ve found are dead bodies. They appear to have been attacked by some kind of animal.” The sheriff shook his head, and turned away from the building. “What was this place supposed to be, anyway?” he asked. The deputy shrugged. “Darned if I know. Probably one ‘a them government things. You know they never tell us anything.” At that moment, there was a call on the deputy’s radio, and he answered it quietly. He spoke for a few moments, and then turned again to the sheriff. “Um, sir, they uh… They just found a kid, walking down the side of the road a few miles from here.” The sheriff stiffened, and approached the deputy. “A kid??” The deputy nodded abruptly. “Yes, sir. They said he looks to be, about, ten years old. His clothes are all shredded, and torn, looks like he was attacked, too. But there’s not a scratch on ‘im, they said. They’ve got him in an ambulance, trying to question him, but he won’t say anything.” The sheriff headed at once towards the ambulances, the deputy hurrying behind. If the sheriff had only walked a few more paces forward, he would have seen tracks on the ground: very large cat-like pawprints, leading away from the facility. And if he had followed the tracks, he would have seen that at one point the tracks changed… to human footprints. But now a chill wind blew across the desert, blowing sand across the ground, and erasing the tracks forever…<br> * * *
Five years later…<br> At a large high school in Phoenix, Arizona, a teenage girl walked through the doors just as a bell rang. She looked to be around 16 years old. She was fair-skinned with long brown hair, and light amber-colored eyes. As soon as she walked into the hallways, she was overwhelmed by a wave of students swarming to get to their classes. She was bumped and jostled down the hall, in the opposite direction of where she was trying to go. She looked desperately around for her locker number, but couldn’t see anything over the hundreds of kids crowding around. She tripped on someone’s foot, and fell to the floor. Her backpack was kicked down the hall by the stomping feet, and she was hard pressed to avoid being stepped on. Just then, a slender hand shot down, grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her upright. Before she could see who it was, she was yanked across the hall and into the girl’s bathroom. She turned to face her rescuer, and saw that it was another girl, around her age. She had dark black hair, and green eyes. She wore all black, and had a headband around her hair. “Hi,” she said quickly. “You must be the new girl. I’m Vicki. I’m a sophomore, too.”<br>The other girl shook Vicki’s hand. “I’m Casey.” She replied, and looked around the bathroom. Vicki laughed. “You seem lost. Here, I believe this is yours.” She held up Casey’s backpack. Casey took it, and shouldered it on her back again. “Well, I am kinda lost. We just moved here, and my old school was way smaller than this,” she said. Vicki smiled, and put an arm around Casey’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, kid. I’ll show ya around. Don’t worry, there’s still a half hour left before classes start.” Casey looked confused, and started to speak. “But what about all those…” “What, the students?” asked Vicki, cutting her off. “Oh, it’s always crowded this early.” Casey spoke again. “But the b…” Vicki cut her off again. “The bell? Oh, they were just testing it. They always do that the first day of school. C’mon.” She led Casey out of the bathroom, and into the wide hallways. “Okay, right over there? That’s the cafeteria. Contrary to popular belief, the food is actually quite good. And that’s the chem. lab. They just finished renovating it after it got blown up last year. And over there…” Casey barely had time to get a word in edgewise as the enthusiastic sophomore pulled her along. She managed to gasp out a few words, though. “But… my locker…” Vicki stopped in her tracks. “Oooh, that’s right. You haven’t found it yet, have you? Very well, then, what’s the number?” Casey handed her the locker slip, and Vicki took one look at it, and then sped off again. After much more weaving and bobbing through various students, they arrived at her locker. “Here you are! Locker 176.” Casey opened the locker, and began unloading the contents of her backpack into it. Suddenly, further down the hall, the outer doors burst open, as if someone had flung them wide. Casey couldn’t see what had happened over the heads of the crowd, but she noticed that everyone had started to part and draw back along the walls, like the parting of a great ocean. “Uh oh… here he comes,” muttered Vicki. Casey stuffed the rest of her books in her locker and slammed it. “Who?” she asked quietly. Then, the crowd right in front of them drew back, and Casey could see a tall boy about six feet tall walking ominously through the parting crowd. He was black, having dark skin and long shoulder-length dreads. He wore a long black trench coat over a white tank top and long baggy black pants. The trench coat trailed just above the heels of his black leather boots, almost military style, and he wore biker-style gloves, with no fingertips. His eyes could not be seen behind a pair of reflective black sunglasses that he wore. On one side of his neck, there was a small tattoo, that read “10”. As he drew level with Casey and Vicki, his head turned, and he glanced at Casey for a second. But then he passed quickly, and continued on down the hall. Vicki turned slowly and stared at Casey. “Whoa. He actually noticed you. He usually doesn’t take notice of anyone, unless they talk to him.” Casey still stared after him down the hall, wide-eyed. “Who was that?” she asked Vicki quietly. “That… was Mack.” Vicki said slowly. “He started coming here a few weeks before summer break last year. Everybody’s scared to death of him. He barely talks to anyone, and no one’s ever seen his eyes.” Casey turned back to her locker as the crowd started to flow down the hall again. “Why are they scared of him?” she asked. Vicki clutched her books to her. “Because… it’s almost like he’s not… human. I mean, he’s got strength like you wouldn’t believe. He once picked up a whole side of the gym bleachers, and the bleachers are huge. And he’s fast. I swear he can run, like, 40 miles an hour, if not more. We used to have a gang here. Mack beat ‘em up… all of them. They even ganged up on him, and he still half killed them, without even getting hit. Half of them are still in the hospital. Geez, even the teachers are scared of him. No one calls him Mack anymore, either. They all call him Bane, cause of his tattoos.” Vicki shivered slightly, and walked away. Casey followed, looking back over her shoulder in the direction that Mack had gone. “Tattoos…?” she asked quietly. Vicki shrugged. “You’ll see… in gym class later.”
|
|
|
Post by Nightshine on Oct 25, 2004 19:19:39 GMT -5
Later that day, after getting acquainted with her first few classes, Casey headed towards the chemistry lab with Vicki. After a brief introduction by the teacher, they all headed towards their lab stations. As Casey headed for her spot, she stopped suddenly as she saw that her station was right next to Mack’s. He stood there, leaning against the counter and looking down at the ground. Vicki leaned in and whispered “Good luck,” before heading to her spot on the other side of the lab. Casey took a deep breath, and walked over to her spot, setting her book down carefully on the counter. Mack again glanced over at her, but said nothing and quickly looked down again. The students were allowed to browse through their books, and pick an experiment that they wanted to perform from the first few pages, this being the first class of the year. There was some scattered talking as they settled down to work, but otherwise the room was quiet. Casey glanced one last time at Mack, who stood gazing intently down at his project. She strained to catch a glimpse of his eyes through the dark lenses of his sunglasses, but they were completely reflective, and she finally returned to her work. The class remained in this manner for some time, and Casey soon became slightly bored. She glanced over past Mack out of the window wishing class was over. Then she suddenly noticed that Mack seemed to be… sniffing. She wasn’t sure, but he sounded as if he were making soft sniffing noises, which were barely audible. She jumped a little in surprise when he actually spoke. “Jake, your tube’s gonna blow,” he said quietly, and everyone within hearing distance turned to stare at him. Jake, who was at the counter behind Mack, turned and stared at him in disbelief. He had a test tube held over top of a small Bunsen burner. “What? No it’s not!” He said defensively. Mack didn’t turn around, keeping his attention on his project. “The flame’s too hot,” he said. Jake turned and checked the temperature before replying to him. “No it’s not! It’s at the perfect temperature. How do you know, anyway? You can’t see it.” But Mack kept silent, still staring downwards. Jake shook his head, and turned back towards the test tube. Suddenly, the test tube violently exploded, sending shards of glass everywhere. There were screams as the students ducked for cover. Casey turned to look, and suddenly Mack’s fist shot out right in front of her face. She gasped, and jumped back. She stared at him, and then at his hand. He still hadn’t once moved his head from the project, but he had put out his fist for some reason. Then Casey noticed a thin line of blood seeping out from between his clenched fingers. He slowly opened his hand, and let a large shard of glass fall to the floor, dripping with blood. Casey gasped in shock; she hadn’t even seen the flying piece of glass, but he had protected her from it without even looking at her. She gasped again as she saw his hand, which had a large gash in the palm. “Your hand…” she started to say, but Mack lowered his arm, and went back to his project like nothing had happened. His expression still hadn’t changed since she had first seen him in the halls. The teacher ran over to Jake, and spoke softly with him. Jake gasped out an explanation. “I-I don’t know what happened! I-It just blew up! It was at the correct temperature and everything…” The teacher checked the burner, and then frowned at Jake. “The dial is set to Celsius. The fire was way too hot for this experiment, Jake. It was just a careless mistake, but you must make sure to check before turning it on. You’re lucky no one was hurt,” she said sternly. Jake blushed softly, and then whirled around towards Mack. “How did you…” he started to say. But just then, the bell rang, and Mack walked off, taking his equipment back to the large storage cupboard at the front of the room. Casey gathered up her project equipment, and hurried after him. As he walked towards the door, she reached the cupboard and stuffed her things inside, then ran after him. “Wait!” she yelled, but he had already left the class. As she reached the door, she looked down the hall in both directions, and then caught a glimpse of him as the crowded hallway again drew back, trying at all costs to avoid him. She chased after him, but was held up as the students resumed walking. When she finally got clear of the mob, he was gone. She stood gazing bewildered down the hallway, until Vicki came up behind her. “Hey girl, where’re you going? Come on, we have to get ready for gym class.” Casey reluctantly allowed herself to be pulled away yet again by Vicki.
* * *
As Casey entered the large gymnasium with the girls group, they were lead over to one side of the bleachers. She noticed that the boys’ gym class was also being held at the other end of the gym. Mack was there also, standing off to the side. Though he still wore his glasses, he had shed his trench coat for this class, and his muscular physique could clearly be seen. Since he was wearing a tank top, Casey could also see his bare arms. Down his right arm, there was a large tattoo on his bicep that said Bane in large black letters. There was a similar tattoo on the other side of his neck, indicating where he had gotten his nickname. As they began the class, they started with stretches. Getting those out of the way quickly, the boys’ coach led them over to a long rope hanging from the ceiling. “Alright, you wimps, we’re gonna be starting with the rope climb today.” There were a few scattered groans among the group. “Ah, toughen up, ya bunch ‘a sissies.” He muttered, and then blew his whistle. They formed a single-file line, and began going up the rope one at a time. The coach stood below, timing them. “Hustle it up! ” he yelled at the line, after they began moving sluggishly. After everyone had gone, it was finally Mack’s turn. He slowly walked up to the rope, and looked over at the coach. The coach nodded slowly, and held his stopwatch at the ready. Mack gripped the rope tightly, and looked up at the ceiling for a minute. Then he began climbing. There was an audible murmur of astonishment from the onlookers, as they watched him ascend rapidly. He pulled himself up lightning fast with his powerful arms, not even using his feet once. As he reached the very top, he stopped and hung from the rope with one arm, staring down at the coach. The coach stopped the clock, and stared open-mouthed at him for a moment, before glancing down at the clock. His eyes widened, and he tapped the clock several times to make sure it was working correctly. According to it, Mack had climbed the whole rope in exactly 10 seconds. The coach stared at the clock again before calling up to him. “Um… yes, uh… very good, um, Mack. Now, come back down here.”<br>At once, Mack unexpectedly let go of the rope, and plummeted towards the ground. There was another gasp, and the coach could be heard yelling: “No! Not that way!” As Mack landed, there was a deafening boom that echoed throughout the gym, and all eyes turned to him. He had landed in a crouch, and appeared to be unhurt, even though he had fallen from a tremendous height. Everyone stared openmouthed at him, until the coach finally found his voice. “A-Alright… everyone. Let’s head out to the, um… the track, for the 1-mile run.” But no one moved except Mack, who slowly stood up, and headed towards the gym doors. They all moved aside to let him through, and stood staring after him as he pushed the doors open and exited the building. Then the coach also seemingly found his nerve, for he put his whistle to his lips and blew a deafening blow. “Move it, people! Now!” They hurried out of the gym, the coach following behind, still shaking his head and looking at the stopwatch. Casey stared out the doors after Mack, as the girls set up to play volleyball indoors. Then she cleared her head, and helped to set up the net.
|
|
|
Post by Nightshine on Oct 25, 2004 19:20:52 GMT -5
Finally, the last bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Students poured out of the doors like a river. Some jumped on bikes or skateboards and headed home, while others walked. Then some others loitered around the building, talking and gossiping to each other. Suddenly, the talking stopped as Mack exited the building. Some turned to stare at him as he walked forward, not even giving them a glance. He turned down the street, and soon passed out of sight behind some houses. Instantly, the conversations started back up again, some talking in low whispers, and glancing back to way he had gone. He strode down the streets, weaving his way down alleys and avenues, always looking straight ahead. As he passed through a downtown area of the city, he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. He stood for a few minutes, not moving a muscle, as still as stone. Then he resumed walking again, quickly turning into an alley. There was a pause for a few moments, and then Casey emerged from her hiding place behind a nearby building, and began running after him. As she turned the corner into the alley, she slowed to a halt. The alley was a dead end. She glanced about the alley, confused as to where he had gone, then gave a sigh, and turned to go. As she turned around, she gave a loud gasp and jumped back, for Mack was standing right behind her. He stood there, staring at her, and she wilted under his gaze and backed up another step. “What do you want?” he asked her quietly. She stammered out something, and then worked up some nerve, and took a step forward. “I… I wanted… to thank you, for protecting me earlier,” she said meekly. Her eyes flicked down towards his hand. He seemed to notice this, for he slowly brought his hand up, palm showing. There was a large bandage wrapped around his hand, even though he looked like he didn’t need it. She slowly reached out and gently touched it for a few seconds, then realized what she was doing, and drew back again. Mack stood silent for a while, then nodded. “You’re welcome,” he finally said. He turned to go, but Casey held his arm. “Wait…” she begged, and he slowly turned back to her. She stood, staring at herself in his reflective glasses. Then she slowly leaned forward on tiptoe, and kissed him gently on the lips, then drew back. Then Mack actually smiled, and reached his hand forward and gingerly caressed her cheek. But suddenly he tensed up, and drew back. He glanced back towards the street, and then ran past her farther into the alley, towards the chain link fence that separated the alley. She turned and watched him leave, with a confused look on her face. Right before Mack reached the fence, he jumped and leaped directly over it, landing on the other side. Casey looked on in astonishment as he ran away, and then touched her cheek gently, smiling. Then she heard a voice calling her, and turned back towards the street. Vicki came running up, and as she looked down the alley she saw Casey. “There you are! Where’d you go? I’ve been looking all over for you. I just found out that you live in my neighborhood! Isn’t that awesome? C’mon, I’ll walk with you.” Casey glanced once more back over her shoulder, and then followed Vicki down the street, listening as the chatty teen talked.
* * *
“Oh, crap!” Casey muttered, as she ran down the road. It was the next morning, and she had overslept. She wanted to try out for the cheerleading team later that day, and needed to get to school as soon as possible, so she could sign up in time. As she rounded a corner, she bumped into another boy, who she recognized from school. The boy stumbled back, then looked at her and smiled. “Well, well, if it isn’t the new girl.” He said sneering. She rolled her eyes and brushed past him. “Hey, Tony,” she mumbled. But Tony followed her. “Why don’t you walk with me? We can chat,” he said, eyeing her greedily. “I’m in a hurry,” she called back to him, and began running again. He caught her arm, and pulled her back. “What’s the rush? Stay with me. We can have some fun,” He grinned, and then leaned forward and kissed her. Casey’s eyes widened, and she pushed him away and slapped him viciously across the face. “Get away from me!” she yelled, and tried to run again. But he grabbed her again, and hit her in the face. “I’ll teach you to hit me!” he yelled, and drew back to hit her again. Then he looked over her shoulder and gasped, his hand frozen in the air. At that moment Mack leaped over Casey’s head, and delivered a tremendous flying kick to Tony’s head and chest. Tony flew backwards, through a nearby fence, and into the neighbor’s pool. Mack landed crouched on the ground, and then stood, watching Casey. “You okay?” he asked her, and she nodded dumbly. He glanced up into the ever-brightening sky, then back at her. “You’re late,” he said. She stared at him queerly. “How could you tell?” she asked. “Trust me. I can tell,” he simply said. Then without warning, he walked forward and picked her up effortlessly in his arms. She gasped. “It’s okay,” he said quietly, and she calmed down. “Hold on,” he said, and then started running. He was amazingly fast, and she gasped again, gazing around at the swiftly passing houses. Once he had built up enough speed, he crouched down, and then quickly leaped up, flying high into the air. She screamed, and stared down at the ground, frightened. They were gliding a few stories above the roofs of the houses, still moving at an incredibly fast pace. “It’s okay,” Mack said again. Then she calmed down at once, feeling that she could trust him. As they came down above a house, Mack landed on the roof and then immediately jumped again, traveling further. He continued “roof-hopping” until he finally came down and landed in front of the school building. He put her down gently, and stood back. She smiled at him, exhilarated from the speedy journey. “Thanks…” she finally said. He nodded, and looked down at the ground. “Don’t tell anyone… please,” he said quietly. She nodded, and he walked away. She clutched her backpack to her chest, giggling to herself quietly, and then began running towards the gym.
|
|
|
Post by Nightshine on Oct 25, 2004 19:21:40 GMT -5
Casey had made it in time to signup. The tryouts were held after school that day. The girls lined up one by one to do their routines. As Casey finished her routine, she looked around at the bleachers absentmindedly. She suddenly spotted Mack, who was sitting on top of the announcer’s box at the top of the bleachers. He gazed at her for a moment, and then dropped down, disappearing behind the bleachers. She hurried over to the captain of the team. “Um…. I gotta go now. I’m kinda in a hurry.” The captain, who was actually fairly nice, smiled at her. “Okay, then. The results will be posted near the gym doors tomorrow. Thanks for trying out!” She said. Casey nodded, and then grabbed her bag and ran to the front of the school. She looked around wildly, and then spotted Mack, who had just walked out of sight, past the school. She ran down the sidewalk, brushing past students and receiving a few odd looks. As she reached the corner, she slowed to a halt. Mack was nowhere in sight. She threw her hands up, and turned around, but then gave a loud gasp, and jumped slightly. Mack was standing behind her again. She punched his shoulder softly. “Stop doing that! You’re freaking me out!” Mack smirked and rolled his eyes. He nodded his head in the other direction, and they walked together, towards Casey’s house. “What are your parents like, Mack?” Casey asked him. Mack didn’t look at her, and kept staring straight ahead. “Ah, they’re okay,” he said. “…Although they’re not my real parents.” He didn’t say anymore after this, so Casey had to pry somewhat. “What happened to your real parents?” she asked. He didn’t answer for a few moments. “I don’t know,” he finally answered. “Something… something happened, when I was younger. I don’t remember it, though. I can’t remember anything past the night that I came to stay with my foster parents.”<br>Casey stared down at the ground for a few minutes as they walked. “S… Same with me,” she said finally. This time, Mack looked over at her, the sunlight reflecting off of his sunglasses. Casey nodded. “Yeah, I have foster parents too. I don’t remember what happened before I came to live with them, though I was very young…” Mack seemed to think about this for a moment, and then turned forward again. Casey kept staring down at the ground, and then after an unbearable silence, she spoke again. “Do you trust me, Mack?” she asked, looking up at him. Mack looked over at her with the blank, opaque stare of his glasses. “Yes,” he said. Then Casey stopped walking, putting her hand on his shoulder to halt him, also. She gazed up into his glasses, as he looked back down at her. As she saw herself reflected in the lenses, she thought that she looked… scared, or nervous. But she shrugged it off, and then slowly reached her hands up to his face. Mack drew back a little, but then stopped. Her hands continued toward his face, her eyes still staring back at him. She slowly reached up and gently removed his glasses from his face. As they came off, and his eyes were revealed, she gasped in wonder. They were golden in color, and very bright. It was almost as if they glowed with an internal light. He stared back at her, shading his eyes from the bright sun with one hand. “Beautiful…” Casey murmured softly, and she moved towards him. Mack leaned down towards her, and they shared a long gentle kiss, together on the sidewalk. Both of their eyes were squeezed shut, relishing the moment. As they drew away, Mack squinted in the light, and then gently took his glasses and put them back on his face. They slowly resumed walking down the street. “Did…. Were you born with those eyes?” Casey asked. Mack shrugged. “I guess… They’ve been like that ever since I can remember,” he said. Casey tilted her head to the side as she gazed at him. “They’re so beautiful… Why do you wear those glasses all the time?” Mack glanced up at the sky for a moment as she said this, and then looked at her. “Well… I… I can see in the dark,” he said slowly. “But my eyes are real sensitive to light… so I wear these.” He adjusted the glasses higher on his face. “They also keep the kids at school from freaking out more than they already are… Not that it helps.” He sighed, and looked at the ground. “Why am I like this?” he muttered, half to himself. Casey took his arm, and laid her head on his shoulder. “Maybe it was a mutation of your DNA or something…. You know, those things they’ve been talking about in biology class…?” Mack didn’t answer. She sighed, and looked up at him again. “Well, it doesn’t really matter now… You’re who you are, and it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks. Those kids at school don’t know any better,” she said. “Why don’t you… you know, talk more and stuff?”<br>“Because… no one wants to talk to me.” Mack said. “Besides… it’s just not me. I don’t like talking…” Casey smiled. “So I noticed.” She let go of his arm, and clutched her bag to her chest. “Well… I don’t think you’re a freak…” she said quietly. “I think you’re really cool, and really sweet… and really handsome.” Mack looked over at her and raised an eyebrow. She just smiled back, and soon he started smiling too. “Oh, here’s my house,” Casey said sighing. “Thank you, for walking me home.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. “See ya tomorrow!” She said as she walked inside. “I’m home, Mom!” Mack’s superbly keen ears could hear inside, and he heard Casey’s mom. “Hey honey… Who was that?” But Mack didn’t wait around to hear the answer. He walked away silently, his trench coat flapping behind him. As he reached the corner, a large bus passed in front of him. After it went by, Mack had vanished.
* * *
It was a few weeks later, and everything had gone by smoothly. Casey had made the cheerleading team, and she had walked home with Mack almost everyday. Today was the day of the homecoming football game, and the bleachers were packed with people. Casey stood on the sidelines, glancing behind her now and then to look for Mack. She soon spotted him on his usual perch, on top of the announcer’s box. The announcers hadn’t seemed to notice, and the few observers that had noticed just ignored him, not wanting to tell him to get down. The game began with a bang, with the home team rushing onto the field, ripping through a banner. The teams seemed to be evenly matched, and the first quarter went by scoreless. Between plays and quarters, the cheerleaders did a few routines, cheering their teams on. Casey was the star of a few of them, being held on the top of a few pyramids. The school caretaker sat on a lawnmower, cutting the school’s grass, but paying more attention to the game than the lawn. As he came by near the field, he was watching as the home team’s runningback broke free of the pack. “Go, go! Yeah baby!” he yelled, urging him on. The runningback reached the endzone, and the caretaker threw up his hands in victory, yelling ecstatically. Not paying attention to the yard in front of him, the lawnmower was headed straight for a nearby scoreboard that stood beside the bleachers, its supports rusted over with age and wear. Too late he saw what was about to happen, and tried to steer out of the way. But the lawnmower crashed into one of the supports with a thud, causing the scoreboard to shudder violently. Over the roar of the crowd, no one had noticed, and he quickly drove away, paying more attention to the lawn. But after a few moments, the scoreboard began to creak loudly. Slowly, the scoreboard began to lean, its display sparking as it shorted out. Both of the supports gave way, and it fell towards the ground… right towards the cheerleaders. As the cheerleaders finished one of their routines, one of them gave a cry and pointed towards the scoreboard. There were screams from the crowd as they saw what was happening, and the cheerleaders scattered, trying to get out of the way. But they had no time, for they had noticed it too late. Casey was riveted to the spot with fear and she closed her eyes and clenched her teeth, waiting for the inevitable. There was a loud thud, but nothing happened. Casey slowly opened her eyes, and then gasped. Mack was standing in front of her, his back facing her. He had shed his trench coat, and his muscles were clearly visible through his tank top, as were his tattoos. His arms were raised, and he was supporting the whole entire scoreboard by himself. He had stopped it from crushing the cheerleaders just in time. All activity ceased as everyone turned to stare at him, even the players on the field. There was an astonished silence as everyone tried to comprehend what was happening. A nearby cameraman, who had been filming the game, snapped out of his stupor and raised his camera, getting the whole thing on tape. Only the slightest amount of strain showed on Mack’s face as he held up the scoreboard. He calmly turned his head to look at the cheerleaders behind him, who were all frozen in shock. “Go,” he said. The girls needed no second urging, all of them bolting clear of the area. Casey ran clear, and then turned back to look at Mack, concern showing on her face. Mack stood there for a moment longer, and then heaved up on the scoreboard, pushing it up a few more feet. As the cold surface left his fingers, he jumped out of the way. The scoreboard seemed to hang in the air for a moment, and then fell to the ground with a crash, having nothing to support it. Casey looked at the scoreboard for a moment, and then up at Mack again, but he was gone. The crowd surged from the bleachers, rushing over to gawk at the scoreboard. Some looked around for Mack, but didn’t see him. A few medics rushed over to the cheerleaders to check for any injuries. Casey simply stood there in shock as a few people tried to tend to her, staring at the spot where Mack had been.
|
|
|
Post by Nightshine on Oct 29, 2004 23:32:30 GMT -5
The game was eventually postponed, and many people headed home, whispering amongst themselves about Mack’s incredible feat. As soon as she assured the paramedics that she was fine, Casey rushed from the field, desperate to find Mack. She searched the whole school, but found no sign of him. She finally returned to the field to get her backpack and go home. By now, the athletic field was swarming with people, from news reporters and cameramen to paramedics and even a few members of the school board. Casey jostled past the swarm of people, who were desperate for some kind of explanation, and headed for the bleachers where she had left her bag. But it wasn’t there, and she looked all around, even under the bleachers. “Casey!” came a shout from below, and she looked up. Her English teacher, Ms. Wyatt, was climbing the bleachers towards her, waving to get her attention. Casey walked down to meet her with a curious look on her face. “Casey, you must be looking for your bag, right hun? Well, some kid was messing with it, so I moved it to the locker room.” Casey looked confused. “A kid? What did he look like?” Ms. Wyatt thought for a moment. “Well, it was a black kid. He was wearing lots of black and he had braids… Oh, and he wore sunglasses.” Casey smiled and hugged Ms. Wyatt firmly. “Oh, thank you!” she cried. Ms. Wyatt gave her an odd look, but hugged her back. “Um… No problem, dear.” Casey stepped back, raising an eyebrow at her. “Ms. Wyatt, you weren’t here for the game, were you?” she asked coyly. Ms. Wyatt shook her head. “No, dear, I was in my room grading papers. I heard the noise and came out here to see what it was. Something about some ‘Jack’ kid lifting the scoreboard, or some other nonsense. I only caught bits of conversation… Why?” Casey smiled, and ran past her. “Oh nothing! Thanks again, bye!” she said, and headed for the girls locker room. Bursting through the doors, she immediately spotted her bag by her locker. Walking over to it, she picked it up and looked it over, but nothing was amiss. Opening, she tore through its contents, looking for anything that hadn’t been there before. Her eyes brightened, and she pulled out a small slip of paper. She dropped her bag and read it quickly. It simply said “The Lake” in large black letters, and had an M below it. Quickly changing into her school clothes, she grabbed her bag and rushed from the school. She stopped in front of the school, looking around for one of her friends. The lake was a few miles away, and she didn’t want to have to go all the way to get her foster parents to drive her. She heard a low rumble ahead of her, and looked towards it. She smiled and ran towards it. “Jake!” she cried, and the boy she was addressing looked up. Jake was one of her classmates, and one of her closest friends. Seeing that she was new to the city, he offered to help her with schoolwork, and show her around the city. They soon became close friends, and would spend some time talking on the phone together. Jake was not too tall, being around 5’8”, and he had medium length brown hair. He owned a motorcycle, though he was not the biker type of person. Jake was more of a quiet type, yet friendly. He was very smart, getting good grades in school. He smiled as she approached, and waved to her. “Hey, Casey,” he said. He was sitting on his black Yamaha, and Casey ran up to him. “Hey, Jake. Could you do me a favor? I need a ride, to the lake,” she said. Jake smiled, and nodded. “Sure. I’ve got time; I finished most of my homework in class. Hop on.” He handed her a helmet, and then donned one himself. She got on, holding onto his waist, and they zoomed off through the streets.
|
|
|
Post by Nightshine on Oct 29, 2004 23:33:51 GMT -5
The surface of the water shimmered as it reflected the rays of the afternoon sun. Casey stared in awe as they drove along the road that encircled the lake, towards the boat landings. People were fishing along many spots of the lake, and a few speedboats zoomed past, carrying boatloads of vacationers or propelling water-skiers behind them. Woods surrounded the lake, separating it from the well-traveled road, though the trees were scarce enough not to block the lake from view. As they passed a more remote section of the lake, Casey spotted a lone figure between the trees. “Stop!” she yelled to Jake, and he slowed to a halt. “What is it?” he asked, and she began to get off. “I’m getting off here,” she said. Jake took off his helmet and looked at her queerly. “Here? There’s nothing here, why would you want to…” But Casey cut him off. “I’m meeting someone,” she simply said, handing him back her helmet. “Thanks for the ride, Jake. Don’t worry, I’ve got a ride back.” She smiled at him, and then ran off into the woods. Jake stared after her for a moment, and then put his helmet back on and turned the bike away around, driving away with a load roar of its engine. As she neared the lake, Casey slowed to a walk, her backpack strapped to her back. She approached a gnarled tree that stood beside the lake. The tree was bent to the side, and one of its large branches hung over the smooth waters of the lake. The still form of Mack could be seen sitting quietly on the branch, gazing out over the water. Casey tried to approach silently, but she knew that he knew she was there. She climbed up into the tree, and carefully scooted out onto the branch with him, sitting beside him. Neither of them said anything for a few minute, and just basked in the momentary silence, only broken now and then by the far off drone of a motorboat. Finally, Casey turned and looked at him, smiling slightly. “Thank you,” she said softly. Mack finally turned his head and gazed back at her, and she gave him a small hug. “I wouldn’t be here if not for you… and neither would any of the cheerleaders. You were very brave.” Mack smiled for a moment, and then looked back over at the lake, saying nothing. Casey tilted her head to the side, a strand of hair falling over her face. “What’s wrong?” she asked. Mack still didn’t answer for a moment. “They know,” he finally said, and turned to her again. “The whole city will know by tomorrow.” He sighed, and looked down at the water beneath them, which flashed every now and then as fish swam underneath the surface. “They caught it on tape… everything.” Casey laid her head on his shoulder, keeping silent. “It… It’ll all be alright,” she said finally. “Maybe… maybe you just need to… lay low, for a little bit… It’ll blow over.” The setting sun lay behind them, and Mack reached up and took off his sunglasses, gazing into Casey’s eyes with his own. Casey gave him a small smile, trying to be optimistic, and Mack smiled back. “…I’ve told my foster parents that I’ll be gone,” he said softly. “I’m gonna hide out here for a bit… You’re right, it’ll blow over… hopefully.” He raised his hand and slowly pushed Casey’s hair from her face. Casey smiled, and they both sat on the branch, enjoying the serenity of the spot. “I come here a lot,” Mack said. “To just… unwind, you might say… It’s just so calm. When I’m here… I don’t worry anymore. I don’t think about anything… I just sit.” Casey gave a contented sigh. “You’ll have to bring me with you,” she said. “This is beautiful.” The peaceful couple were so caught up in the splendor that they did not notice the fact that they were being watched…<br> * * *
…From another side of the lake, a camera lens poked through the bushes, and two figures jostled around behind it. The head of the cameraman at the game peeked up followed by the head of a well-known newscaster by name of Anne Haverson. She was shapely, beautiful, talented, and very ruthless. There was almost nothing she wouldn’t do to get a story, and had apparently come across an very intriguing case. “See? See ‘em? I toldja it was him!” said the cameraman proudly, his smile beaming. “Good thing I spotted ‘im and followed ‘im in the van.” Anne gave him an annoyed look. “Oh, do shut up!” she hissed, and turned back to Mack and Casey. “Are you getting this?” she asked, and the cameraman nodded, zooming in with his camera. “Yeah, I’m gettin’ it,” he said. “Though it’s not a very good angle… Maybe if I moved over here…” He scooted to the side, and Anne noticed that he was about to scoot into a large patch of sunlight. “No! Don’t go over there!” she said in a loud whisper, but it was too late. The cameraman promptly sat in the patch of light, and the light reflected off of the lens of his camera, glinting brightly. Out of the corner of his eye, Mack saw the glint. He turned his head to see what it was, but as he turned, the sun now shone directly in his face. He winced, giving a small cry of pain, and shielded his eyes, hurriedly putting on his sunglasses. He closed his eyes for a moment until they recovered, and then looked again. But by that time, Anne had already yanked the cameraman back into the bush, none too gently. “Something wrong?” asked Casey, lifting her head from his shoulder. Mack shook his head. “Uh… no, I’m fine. The sun, it just, like, killed my eyes.” He chuckled a bit. Casey smiled, glancing back at the sun. “Yeah, it is pretty bright, even with normal eyes,” she said. She chuckled with him, and then stopped. She quickly turned and glanced at the sun, noting its position, and then glanced at her watch. “Oh, no! I’ve got to get home!” She looked up at Mack concernedly. He smiled. “Alright. I’ll take you back, then.” Casey smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “Oh, thank you!” she cried, and scooted off of the branch. Mack followed, dropping down, and then picking her up in his arms. “Here we go,” he said, and began running. The trees whizzed past in a blur as he traveled, and they reached the road in a matter of minutes. Mack turned and kept running along the road, passing by a red van whose occupants gaped in shock at what they saw… Or thought they saw, for he had passed by so fast that by the time they collected themselves, he had gone. The cameraman abruptly stood, shouldering his camera and turning it off. “Should we follow ‘em?” he asked Anne, but she shook her head. “No, we’ve got enough. We’ve got to get this back to the studio. C’mon, let’s go.” The two got up and began to hurry back to their studio van, which was parked on the road not far from them.
|
|
|
Post by Nightshine on Oct 29, 2004 23:34:38 GMT -5
It was blazing hot in the deserts of southern Texas, and dust clouds blew across the horizon. Breaking the monotony of the area, shots rang out nearby, echoing across the plains. The shots came from the firing range of a newly built military fort, one that had been erected soon after the incident in California. In the middle of it sat a spacious and luxurious office filled with many fine accommodations. Within the office, at a large desk, sat a wizened general. But not just any general… The general. The general at the head of project MERGE. The general who had authorized the abductions of the children who became the subjects of project MERGE. The general who had denied all ties to the incident at the burnt down laboratory in California. That same general now sat in a cozy chair at his desk, smoking on the thick stub of a cigar and smiling contentedly. His name was General Eric Moniger, and he was a renowned war hero, having led many expeditions and battles in foreign countries. General Moniger leaned back in his chair, watching the big screen TV across from him. He sighed with boredom. He was watching the news, though it was the same old reports that he saw every single day. It was always some kind of crisis, in some form or another. He grabbed the remote and was about to change the channel when an urgent report flashed across the screen, and newscaster Anne Haverson appeared on the air. Unfortunately Moniger’s finger had already hit the remote button, and the channel changed to ESPN. But he growled and switched it right back, listening to the report. “- an incredible feat here in Phoenix, Arizona as a young student of the new local high school, Mack Jones, saved the lives of the school’s cheerleaders as he prevented a whole scoreboard from crushing them. Spectators couldn’t believe their eyes as he ran under it and supported the entire thing by himself. The whole event was recorded by one of our cameramen, Mr. Avery Figgs.” They began to roll the video of the event, and Moniger stared at the TV. He watched as the cameraman showed Mack holding up the scoreboard, and then zoomed in for a closer shot. Moniger then broke into a smile as he saw the tattoos on Mack’s arms and neck, now revealed with the shedding of his trench coat. “Bane…” he said quietly, realizing who Mack was. The video then changed to that of Mack and Casey at the lakeside. “Jones fled the scene soon after, but luckily myself and Figgs were able to locate him again at a nearby lake. It would seem, from this footage, that he is very close to this girl, who also attends the school. Ms. Casey Devington. We lost track of Jones again soon after, and he has yet to be found. School authorities are attempting to contact Ms. Devington in order to locate him, but have been having no luck thus far. We’ll be back after this short break, with some interviews with eyewitnesses who were at the scene of the incident. Stay tuned…” Moniger shut off the TV and keyed the intercom on his desk. “Get me the Elites,” he snapped into it. “Yes, sir. One moment,” came a response. There was a small shuffling sound, and then a beep, and silence on the other line. “Seven, is that you?” Moniger asked, but still silence on the other line. “Marks!” yelled Moniger. There was another silence, and then a heavy breathing noise. “Yes… sir?” came the response. The voice was deep and very cold sounding. It sounded as if the person were angry, as if they were speaking through clenched teeth. “Seven, turn on the news. Channel 12.” Moniger said, and then a silence. He waited a few moments. “You see it?” he asked. Another silence. “Yes…” was the response this time. “Seven… go now… Find Bane, and bring him to the Summit,” Moniger ordered. “I’ll be waiting there… Is that understood?”<br>There was a low growling noise on the other end, but still the response came. “Yes…” “Good,” said Moniger. “Oh, and Seven…? Get the girl too.” There was a click from the other line, and Moniger settled back into his chair. It seemed as if fate was dealing him a second hand. He smiled, and then keyed the intercom again. “Get me Commander Buffes,” he ordered. There was another pause, and then “Commander Buffes speaking.”<br>“Yes, Commander Buffes,” said Moniger. “This is the General. I am going to be leaving the fort soon, on some classified business…”
|
|
|
Post by Wren on Nov 1, 2004 0:57:24 GMT -5
Hey, Nightshine That was wonderful. I wasn't sure if you wanted comments or not, so I delete it if you want. I finally got the chance to read through all of it. I can't wait to read the rest! Are you going to send it in somewhere? It really is good. (sort of Dean Koontzish )
|
|
|
Post by Nightshine on Nov 1, 2004 8:53:59 GMT -5
You don't have to delete it. Thank you! ;D I don't know if I'm going to send it in. I'm just planning on finishing it and then I'll see what happens from there, I guess.
|
|
|
Post by Nightshine on Dec 9, 2004 23:23:39 GMT -5
“For the last time, I don’t know where he is!” Casey slammed the door in the reporter’s face, running upstairs to her room. She had been pestered for the last few hours by almost everyone imaginable. The police, news reporters, teachers, even some of the school board had either called the house or shown up at the door. Her foster parents weren’t much better, constantly asking her about her relationship with Mack and if he was “safe” to be around. She just couldn’t handle it anymore. She threw herself on her bed, burying her head in her arms. She knew that tomorrow wouldn’t be much better. The kids at school would probably pester her to no end about the whole issue. She hoped that Mack would be all right. Who knows what they would do to him if they found him… or would at least try to do to him, though doubtfully he’d stay hidden. She wanted to go see him, to just sit and talk with him as they had just that afternoon. But she knew that reporters and the like’d probably follow her. Besides, she didn’t know where he was now. Since they had been seen at the lake, he couldn’t stay there. She would just have to wait, and hopefully it would blow over. Casey turned onto her side and picked up a small picture frame by her bedside. It was a photo that she had taken of Mack. He didn’t really like pictures, but had allowed her to take one of him. He had taken her to the rooftop of a tall building, granting them a large and beautiful view of the city. He stood at the edge of the roof, smiling for the picture. She smiled as she remembered how hard it had been to get him to actually smile. She stared at the picture for a while, thankful that she was left undisturbed for the night. Then she finally just rolled over and went to sleep, though it took her some time with all the things on her mind.
* * *
Anne Haverson and her cameraman walked from the Channel 12 building after reviewing her report. “That was brilliant, Anne! That’s gotta be the story of the year, by far. D’ya think we’ll get a raise?” Anne rolled her eyes and ignored him as he blabbered on. They reached the parking lot and as she headed for her car she heard the cameraman cry out. “My van!” he yelled, running over to it. Anne turned and gasped, following him slowly to the news van.
It was completely wrecked, its tires flat and its hood crushed in. The windshield along with all of its windows had been broken. Both of its sides had large dents in it and the roof had caved in, as if something large had stomped on it. Adding to that impression were two large clawed footprints imbedded in the roof. The van’s doors were torn from their hinges, the equipment inside was crushed and strewn around. But perhaps the most disturbing things were the number of long scratches along the sides and hood, some of them tearing all the way inside the van. The cameraman ran around the van, cursing under his breath as he took in the extent of the damage. “Wh… What the hell happened?” he wondered in puzzlement. Anne silently looked on, wondering the same thing in her mind. “Looks like some kinda... animal did this… or something,” muttered the cameraman. There was a crash from behind them, and as Anne turned to look, the cameraman tackled into her. “Outta the way!!” he yelled. They hit the ground, just as Anne’s yellow Corvette sailed over their heads. It smashed into the van, tipping it onto its side and then falling over upside down. Wide-eyed, they both stood up and looked back towards where Anne’s car was parked. It was almost 150 feet from there to the van, and there was no sign of anything over there. They looked at each other, and then the cameraman ran towards his car. “I’m gettin’ outta here!” he yelled. Anne followed him, her high heels clacking on the pavement. “Wait for me! I need a ride!” she yelled. They practically dove into the car, and as it started, the cameraman stomped on the gas pedal and it screeched out of the parking lot. In the shadows of the news building, two glowing eyes watched them speed away, and a low growl emanated from the darkness.
|
|
|
Post by Nightshine on Dec 9, 2004 23:24:48 GMT -5
* * *
Casey had been right: the next day was no better than the last. Perhaps worse, even. All day she was ridiculed and questioned by almost everyone she saw at school. No one wanted to be near her anymore, except to ask about Mack. Other than that, they stayed as far away from her as possible. She noticed them whispering to each other as she walked past in the hallways. Her teachers constantly asked to talk to her after class, only to ask more questions. Casey looked around for Ms. Wyatt, perhaps the only teacher who might understand her, but she was not in and had a substitute for her class. As the bell rang for lunch, she bolted out of her class, trying to reach her locker without any more hassles. But it seemed that they were inevitable, as she collided with someone and dropped her books onto the floor. As she bent to pick them up, a large shoe came down and stomped on them. “Well, well, if it isn’t the new girl.”<br>Casey sighed; she knew that voice. She looked up and saw Tony sneering down at her. She sighed and tried to push him off of her books. “I told you before, Tony. I’m not gonna go out with you,” she grumbled. Tony kicked her books across the hallway. “Why not? You went out with the freak,” he said. “What do you see in him anyway?” Casey stood up, glaring at him. “He’s not a freak. He’s a person, just like everyone else. And he just so happens to be more good looking than you.” Tony frowned at this, and he pushed Casey back until her back ran up against a row of lockers. “Your little freak friend protected you last time, but he ain’t here anymore, is he? No, this time, you’re gonna do what I say. Don’t make me get rough with you.” He leaned in close, trying to kiss her again, but Casey pushed him away. “Leave me alone!” she yelled. She grabbed her hardcover history book from the floor and smacked Tony in the head with it. He reeled back, stumbling to the ground. He touched his head gingerly and then glared up at Casey. Jumping to his feet, he approached Casey again. “Why you little…” Casey’s eyes had a fierce fire in them, and she didn’t back down one bit. As he came up to her she drew back her leg and kicked him hard right between the legs. Tony gave a gasp and his eyes widened. He squeezed his legs together and slowly sank to the floor. Casey looked down at him, and then around the hallway. Everyone in the hall was staring at her, and she heard more whispers of her name; whispers of more rumors that had already begun to spread. At that moment, Casey simply broke down and ran from the building. Running out of the school doors, she burst into tears. She just wasn’t able to deal with all this. Everything was falling apart around her. She slowed down and began to walk quickly down the sidewalk, just to walk somewhere. She had to get away from everyone, she just had to get away and think. She could see now how Mack felt everyday. Looking down at the ground as she crossed the street, she suddenly bumped into something and stumbled back. She looked up and was about to apologize, but stopped when she saw whom she had bumped into.
|
|
|
Post by Nightshine on Dec 9, 2004 23:26:14 GMT -5
Three tall boys now stood in front of her, a little taller than Mack. They looked like they could have been around her age, but it was hard to tell for their faces were grim and hardened, giving them an adult-like appearance. All three wore dark green tank tops and green fatigue pants with tall boots. Their well-sculpted muscles were visible from beneath their shirts. They all also had crew cuts or shaved heads, and Casey would’ve thought that they were in the army… but they were too young for that, weren’t they? She looked down at their necks and her eyes widened. They bore the same numbered tattoos that were on Mack’s neck. One boy had a “7”, the other a “5”, and the last a “1”. #7 was the tallest of the three, standing two inches above the others. His eyes were a dull green color. #5 was an African-American, with a bald head and fierce brown eyes that glared down at Casey. #1 seemed to be of Native American descent, with tanned skin and a somewhat prominent brow. “Umm… hello…” she said nervously, backing away a few steps. The three boys said nothing, but they spread out and encircled her, forming a triangle around her. Their brown eyes had a blank look to them, and they simply stared down at Casey. The boy with the 7 tattoo spoke. “You will come with us,” he said in a low voice. His voice sounded grated and angry, almost as if he were struggling to speak. “Fat chance!” yelled Casey, and tried to run through them. The boy with the “1” stood in front of her, blocking her off. His hand darted out and grabbed her by the neck. Not tight enough that she couldn’t breathe, but tight enough that she wasn’t going anywhere. His grip was like iron, and try as she might Casey couldn’t break free. Her eyes wide with fear, she looked around desperately, hoping that someone would come along to help. Suddenly a loud horn broke the silence, and all three boys turned their heads to look. A brightly colored sports car sat behind them, its driver sticking his head out of the window and looking very ticked off. Casey remembered that they were still standing in the middle of the road. “Get outta the freakin’ road, you retards!” he yelled, beeping the horn once more. “I don’t got all day!”<br>#1 released his hold on Casey as all three of them began to walk slowly towards the car. The driver didn’t seem to pleased with this. “What’re you doing?” he yelled, but the boys still said nothing. The driver stuck his head back in the window and rolled it up. He turned and looked over his shoulder, trying to see if he was able to back up, when there was a loud crash and his car shook violently. He turned to look and almost fainted. “Hey, what the hell are you doing?!” he yelled. #7 had punched all the way through the front of his car and his arm was now stuck in the hood of his car, all the way up to his elbow. As the man sat in the car, trying to comprehend all of this, #7’s arm tensed up, and he yanked it out viciously. He pulled something with it that tore an even larger hole in the hood. The man screamed as he saw what #7 was holding: It was the engine to his car. #5 tore off the car door, throwing it behind him, and grabbed the man by the neck. Gasping for air, the man desperately tried to break the hold, but to no avail. He kicked his legs as he was dragged out of the car and held a few inches in the air. #7 and #1 simply watched, almost as if they were frozen to the spot. Casey watched too, her eyes wide and fearful. She backed up a few steps and stumbled, falling to the ground. But she didn’t stay there for long, for she jumped up and ran down the street, hoping to get away while they were distracted. The sound of her shoes slapping against the pavement caused the three boys to turn their heads in her direction. #7 looked over at #5 and nodded. #5 instantly dropped the man, who collapsed on the ground, gratefully sucking in huge gulps of air. The three boys looked off at Casey and then bolted towards her. Their speed was incredible, almost rivaling that of Mack’s. Casey glanced back and saw them gaining at an amazing rate. Peering behind her as she crossed the street, she didn’t see the bus barreling towards her until she heard its brakes screeching on the flat blacktop. She dove forward, the bus coming to a halt behind her. Casey stood to her feet, none the worse for the wear, though her knees had been scraped a little. She kept running, looking back once more at the bus that now blocked part of the road. To her dismay it didn’t slow her pursuers in the slightest, for they leaped clear over the whole vehicle, running after her almost before they landed. Within mere moments, they were almost close enough to touch her, and #1 reached out to grab her when a booming thunder rang out. All of them, including Casey, stopped and whirled around. The bus driver had stepped through the bus door, holding… a shotgun? “Alright now, y’all leave that poor girl alone, y’hear?” he snarled in a low Southern drawl. The three boys looked to each other and nodded once more, and slowly began to move towards the bus driver, who leveled his shotgun at them. “Y-… y’all stay back now… Y’hear me?” he yelled, jabbing the muzzle of his shotgun in their direction. Casey stared on for a moment, but then realized that she once again had an opportunity, and she ran around the corner as fast as she could. More thunderous shots echoed through the air, but she didn’t turn to look or stop. Then the shots suddenly stopped and there was an eerie silence.
|
|
|
Post by Nightshine on Dec 9, 2004 23:27:12 GMT -5
Suddenly another ominous rumbling that grew louder behind her broke the silence. This time she turned to look and almost fell down, giving a huge smile. “Oh my gosh, Jake!” she yelled, running towards him. Jake slowed down and stopped in front of her, taking off his helmet. “Casey, what are you doing here?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Casey shook her head as she came up beside him. “It’s a long story… What are you doing here?” Sam shrugged. “Skipping.” Casey would have smiled, but then she remembered her situation, and hopped on the back of his motorcycle, grabbing his extra helmet from the back. “What are you doing?” asked Sam. “There’s no time, I’ll explain later! Just go!” Casey said urgently. Sam put on his helmet, but didn’t move. “But what…” he began, but was cut off by a thunderous crunching sound from behind. Startled, they turned their heads and looked back. #7 was crouching on the hood of a nearby car, and the hood was completely crushed beneath his feet as if he had just landed on it with great force. As if to confirm this, #5 and #1 came flying through the air over the house behind him, taking enormous leaps just as Casey had seen Mack do. “GO!” yelled Casey, and Sam needed no second urging. He gunned the motor, his tires squealing as the motorcycle practically jumped and headed down the street. Casey looked back and saw to her dismay that the boys were in hot pursuit. They were keeping up, and almost gaining, on Sam’s Yamaha. “Let me guess, they wouldn’t take no for an answer?” Sam yelled over the wind rushing past them, but Casey ignored the jest. They were in a suburban neighborhood, and Sam knew that they couldn’t keep up this speed for long, or risk having an accident. “Hang on!” he yelled and made a sharp turn down the next street. He breathed a sigh of relief as they miraculously stayed upright and practically flew down the street. Casey had grabbed onto his waist and Sam glanced back, making sure that she was okay and checking on the progress of their pursuers. “Sam, watch the freakin’ road!!” Casey shouted in his ear. Wincing, Sam turned forward just in time to see an ice cream truck lumbering along the road in front of them, barely hearing its cheerful music above the roar of the engine. It was all Sam could do to swerve in the nick of time and just miss the truck, whizzing past it in the blur. The driver of the ice cream truck shouted out loud in surprise, and poked his head out of the window to yell at the “reckless sonuva…” But suddenly there was a tremendous crash from the roof of his truck, and the music became distorted and died away. He looked up to spot #1 on the roof of his truck, having crushed the speakers as he landed on it. Numbers 5 and 7 sped past the truck, going almost as fast as Sam’s bike, while there came a screeching, wrenching noise from the truck. #1 ripped off the giant ice cream cone that sat on top of the truck and held it over his head with ease, jumping from the truck and running after the others, leaving the driver cursing and swearing at those “crazy psycho kids these days.” #1 tossed the ice cream cone up to #7, who was at the fore of the three boys. He caught it in his arms and looked ahead at Sam and Casey. Suddenly Seven shifted the giant cone to one hand and drew his arm back, as if flowering it. He slowed and took a few hop skips, and then hurled the cone forward as one would throw a javelin, immediately resuming his chase. Sam twisted the throttle all the way down, not caring about the danger. He just wanted to get away from these psycho freaks. “Are they gone??” he yelled back to Casey, who was hugging his abdomen with her eyes clenched shut. “I don’t know!!” she yelled back, keeping her eyes closed. Sam growled in frustration. “Well check!” Casey didn’t move, only tightening her grip. “You freakin’ check!!” She yelled, growing more scared by the second. Sam growled even louder. “I’ve gotta keep my eyes on the freakin’ ROAD!” he practically roared. Casey opened her eyes, glaring at him, and tightened her grip, squeezing the air from him purposefully. In front of them, a small hatchback began to turn the corner onto their street. “Fine, whatever!” she yelled, and raised her head to look back. Her eyes widened and she immediately turned forward again. At the same time, Sam’s eyes widened, having seen the hatchback in front of them. “Sam…!” she yelled. “Casey…!” he yelled back. “DUCK!” They both yelled at the same time, and crouched down. The driver of the car in front of them had enough sense to jump out of the car as he saw the motorcycle barreling towards him down the street and a giant flying ice cream cone behind it. At the last moment, Sam reared the bike’s front wheel up into a wheelie, and luckily the bike managed to clear the hood without them falling off, zooming up the car’s windshield and down the back. As soon as they bumped down to the ground, Sam gunned the throttle and they were off. Just in time as well, as the ice cream cone from hell came down and smashed into the roof of the hatchback just as they cleared it. Glass flew everywhere and the driver dove for cover behind a garbage can. As he poked his head up and surveyed his crushed car, the three boys shot past, still relentlessly chasing the riders of the black motorcycle.
|
|