One night in Kings Row
They came from the sewers
early in the evening, moving silently up the system, to come to an
alt under the Kings Row district of the city. Thousands upon thousands
of them were waiting for the order, that would come soon, to take
the city from within. The Circles of Thorns had built a portal stone
deep underneath the city, into the darkest reach of the sewers, a
few years ago, upon Alankis’s wish for an escape portal, and to feed
his own paranoia about being hunted all the time. Turns out, the crazy
mage had been right, he was hunted and killed soon after the portal
had been delivered. And there it had remained for the last two years,
waiting for its first use. And through that forgotten door, Ghost
Starr had lead its army, destroying everything in their path while
making their way to the surface. Ritkis, Vazhiloks, Losts and Hellions
were taken down while the Ghost Army moved closer and closer to ground
level. None were spared, none were allowed to flee.
The long shadows
of dusk were present in the streets, people were hurrying home for
diner, evening was about to start, in a few minutes. A few hundred
seconds, to one of the most horrifying night the city had seen in
a long time. The sun hung low on the horizon, as if trying to hold
on the world one more minute, to keep away shadows as long as possible.
But, as relentless as time itself, the sun gave up its fight, and
disappeared in the distance, leaving a dark orange and purple sky,
welcoming the evening’s star.
A hush had settled in Kings Row, like
always after sunset, and people sat down to eat diner and listen to
the news. The noisy teens in the basketball yard were arguing over
a fault, and were about to come to blows. Kids were running to their
homes, answering with motion, the call of their screaming mothers
echoing in the back alley. Dogs barked, cats started to prowl, heroes
began to appear again, as if summoned by the night. The city lights
came on, basking the streets in a yellow glow, cars went to and fro,
the police had just switch shift. The city was a haven of safety,
and with more heroes per square mile, than say New York or Chicago,
people felt very secure in the knowledge that the good guys always
prevailed, due to their numbers. But not this time, not tonight.
Five
minutes after sunset, when the wind hushed down a bit, to welcome
the dark sky, they came. The Ghost Army rushed out of the sewer system,
one hundred thousand ghosts and acolytes, demon lords and behemoths,
mages of all fields of magic accompanied them, and in their midst,
the Ghost Starr, leader of the Ghost army. The enemy spread out quickly,
lead by the ghosts who could fly, followed by the acolytes with their
deadly crescent moon swords. They moved swiftly and silently, overcoming
the few they met by sheer number.
They all ran down the streets, flew
up to windows, some were heading for key facilities, like the hospital
and police building. Screams of agony and explosions had begun to
make their entrance, panic was soon to hit everyone. The army moved
swiftly, and killed all resistance present, be it gangs, police or
people, none were spared. The ghosts were feeding themselves on the
fear, the acolytes were hacking and slashing their way into buildings,
breaking down doors and murdering people. Ghost Starr wanted a night
of consecration, for his coming to earth, that would be washed in
blood. Some of the young ones could've been captured and taken back,
to begin training as acolytes, but not this night, there were plenty
of young ones in the other districts.
Some heroes tried to put up
a resistance, most of them were taken down swiftly by a mob tactic
movement. The fights were heroic, some were a bloody mess, but out
of two hundred and twenty one heroes present in Kings Row when the
fighting began, only six would see sunrise. All the power in the district
had gone down, fires were providing the lighting, accompanied by a
heavy dark smoke that lingered on in the air. The hero all-call went
out ten minutes after it began, ten minutes during which hundreds
of people, men women and children, died horribly. Almost three hundred
heroes answered it, and began making their way towards Kings Row.
Leading members of the FRONT, the Riders of Apocalypse and other famous
super groups rallied their troops in all haste, cancelled all permissions
or suspended ongoing operations, and answered the calling as well.
The first hour of the Battle for Kings Row had begun.
Shadow-Step
awoke to what sounded like a wailing wind in the distance. Not quite
sure where he was, he looked around the room for that sense of recognition
when we wake up in a familiar place. Sitting on the bed, feet dangling
on the side, he looked around for people while still listening to
the strange sound coming from outside his room. Standing up, his eyes
fell down to the ground, staring at the tip of his toes.
“Ok, why
am I naked again?” He asked softly to himself, searching the room
for his clothes. He suddenly recalled the last two days, as if standing
underneath a cold shower.
“O-Lan….” His eyes grew wide open, she had
maimed in, diminished him in the one true place a man shouldn’t be.
“Well, guess I won’t need to wonder why girls won’t do it with me
twice anymore…” That last was spoken more out of derision than despair,
but still, Shadow-Step sure wished he could lay hands on O-Lan, and
twist her scrawny, yet very smooth, neck off. He was searching the
room for clothing, only now noticing that he was plugged into an IV
unit, which needle had suddenly ripped away from his arm.
“Son of
a…!” He spun around on himself, while pressing a hand on his arm,
feeling the warm wet blood under his finger tips. He then kicked a
naked toe on the leg of a white medical drawer that didn’t even moved
when he hit it. He sat back down on the bed, massaging the screaming
toe, while biting down on a bitter yell of outrage and pain.
“When
does it stop??!!” He screamed at the ceiling, trying to reach god
almighty, let him know that he was… Annoyed.
Rocking himself, he noticed
that the wailing had stopped, all was quiet, too quiet. He stood up
again, what the hell was going on, again? He walked to the door, pressing
his ear to the door, he listened intently, no sounds whatsoever. Opening
it, he stretched his neck into the hallway, looking left and right,
nobody around. Smiling, he stepped into the corridor naked, walking
tall and proud.
He headed towards the right, where he remembered was
the main hall, with all its crates and supplies stacked along a wall.
Maybe there he could locate some clothes, some food and maybe some
way out of here. He got to the abandoned storage room, never breaking
a step, he was truly alone in a base filled with all sorts of good
things. Walking towards the lockers room, he forced opened a few of
them with great strength, tearing off the doors and throwing them
away in one motion. After the sixth locker, he finally located a pair
of medical pants, which he put on and tied. Looking at himself in
a mirror, he approved of the look: grey-green pants washed too often,
athletic and muscular body that looked like a tiger ready to pounce,
bare feet and one damned handsome looking face.
He turned around,
ready to walk away from the lockers room, when the wailing started
again, only this time with more force. He stopped, eyes searching
where the sound came from, directing him back the way he came. Into
the corridor, he moved like a cat, hugging the left wall along, feeling
the sound as much as he heard it. Passing in front of a door, two
doors down from the medical ward, the wailing became very strong.
He stopped to put his hand on the door, and felt the sound vibration
reverberating on it. Grabbing the handle, he tried to turn it, and
it did so smoothly. Gently opening the door, he looked inside to find
a small series of step and another door, locked by a metal bar, from
the inside. The wailing became so intense once he opened the door,
that he half closed his eyes so much the vibration in his ears got
strong. This was definitely where the sound found an echo into the
facility, where the barred door went, he didn’t know. The wailing
vanished, one second it was all you could hear, the next it was quiet.
Quiet except for the high pitched scream that came from the room itself.
Shadow-Step looked in to his right, and saw a curled up woman holding
her ears and screaming like a banshee in a metal cage.
“O-Lan.” He
said to the room, while walking down the three steps. She kept on
screaming and rocking, not noticing the wailing had stopped, not noticing
him entering the room. Shadow-Step came to stand in front of the cell,
leaning his back against the wall, crossing his arms with a satisfied
look on his face, and waited. Her screaming went on for a few more
seconds, until she had to take in a huge breath, which sent her coughing
and on her knees. She then noticed the quietness around her, and looked
up then around the room, to finally rest her eyes on what she could
only refer to as a
fine piece of man. Then she saw who it was, and
her face took on feral features.
“I thought I told you to cease and
desist recently, will I have to arrest you again?” She asked with
irony in her voice. She flashed him her best smile, the very same
one that she had dished out, before the most painful kick a man should
ever get, was given.
“I hate you.” He replied with a bitter hiss in
the voice, but he remained against the wall, and well away from her
reach, even if she was caged. That woman was dangerous and lunatic.
“Hate me all you want, you are still under arrest, Shadow-Step, now,
open this cage so I can escort you back to prison. Be snappy about
it, convict, I’m not in the mood for waiting.” She replied to him,
while standing up in front of the cell door, as if Shadow would actually
obey her command. He was about to reply something much uncivilized
to her, when the muffled sound of an explosion was heard, and felt
from above the facility. Some dust fell to the ground, slipping through
a crack in the ceiling. Then another was heard, more distant, and
yet another that brought down a sliver of dust from the walls.
They
both looked at each other, sharing a frowning look filled with questions.
Shadow moved to the door that was locked by a metal bar, and removed
it. He then cracked it open a notch, looking carefully outside, and
into the sewers system.
“Get me out of here, Shadow, don’t you dare
leave me to rot in this cage.” Hissed O-Lan through clenched teeth.
“Why, so you can arrest the hell out of me again?” Replied Shadow-Step
looking at her defiantly. “I think not. Here’s what’s going to happen:
I’m walking out of here right now, and I’m leaving the city, you want
me, you come after me. And you, “ He said to her, while bending over
to pick up the metal bar “can have fun breaking out of jail without
me. Adios O-Lan.”
“Shadow!” She screamed at his back as he stepped
inside the sewer pipe. The door closed on him a few seconds after,
leaving an outrage, kicking and screaming O-Lan behind. More explosions
took place, the electricity went down in the cell room, leaving the
former Tsoo parlour girl in the dark.
Shadow-Step carefully made his
way to the closest ladder. Looking up, the hatch was open, and he
could see that it was night outside. He looked on the cement wall
for the city writing that would indicate where he was.
“Good, Kings
Row…” He said to himself as he discarded the metal bar he had carried
with him, not sure why anymore. This city is the safest he knew of…