In the Shadow of Lies
Posted 03 August 2011 - 10:04 PM
May 1, 1776, the Bavarian Illuminati was formed by an Adam Weishaupt. They were a self proclaimed “enlightened” secret society modeled after the free masons. Starting off with only five members the group was nothing, but it rapidly strengthened itself, pulling support from politicians and influential bankers. All took a vow of secrecy and pledged loyalty to unknown superiors. The group became stronger and spread across Europe, causing revolutions and wars to further their plans. But in the 1780s the Bavarian Government became aware of the secret societies subversive activities and disbanded the group, forcing them to go underground. Most believed that was the end of the groups, but there the group transformed and operated under various names, unyielding in their ultimate goal. The group now hides in plain sight, in front of the same people who banned them; initiating wars and then creating treaties, but then people began to connect the dots. See through the ruse. They banned together in a fight to ensure these men do not succeed in their plans and to spoil their preparations. We now hide in the shadows away from the lies theses enlightened cast.
A man entered the lodge doors. His disheveled appearance stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the crafted and carved entrance of the lodge. His messy hair and unkempt clothing combined with a face that seemed to be aged with stress, kept the door man on his toes.
“May I help you, sir?” He asked cutting off the man.
“No.” The man retorted as he pushed past the gentleman. Several members raised eyebrows at his entrance, but soon recognized their fellow member, Toney Reynolds. He nodded to a group of men that sat and puffed on their cigars. He knew them, but had no time for conversation. They surely wouldn’t want to talk to him in a couple hours anyway. He walked up the stairs and the lodge took on a business setting. The royal red decorating and furnishing turned to off-white walls and stainless steel appliances. He continued down the hallway until he arrived at a locked door. He placed in his key and pushed the door open, closing and locking it behind him.
The room’s theme was akin to the lodge downstairs, warm and dimly lit. A typical bear rug sat at the floor in front of a cherry wood desk, and the walls were lined with intellectual books and expensive paintings. Toney stepped cautiously into the room and began to lift paintings and pull books from the bookcase. Nothing. He then walked up to the desk and pulled out all its draws. He pushed through the papers to the bottom, but still found nothing. He began to angst. He frantically felt under the desk until he breathed a sigh of relief as he felt a small button. He pushed it. The opposing wall revealed a false part of the wall that slide over revealing a large safe. He approached the safe and took out a small piece of paper with numbers sloppily scribbled on it. He entered the code and opened the safe door. Pushing past the stacks of money to the back of the safe, he saw a small USB drive in hard plastic container. He picked up the device carefully and placed it in his jacket pocket. Returning to the desk, he pressed the button again and the wall slid back over, covering the safe. He opened the door and lightly closed it behind him. He knew he hadn’t had much time now, so he hastened his pace as he walked down the stairs. He walked through the lounge area once again where the men still puffed on their cigars, but he stopped suddenly at the sight of someone at the door. At first he was almost frozen in fear. Panic nearly took over, because there in the entrance stood Simon Rockefeller’s favorite hound, The Monarch, one of the first successful candidates of the Monarch initiative. A program that created soldiers to ensure any hole that may leak in their organization was swiftly filled and smoothed over. He did his job well.
Toney backed away slowly now having to improvise. He walked towards the back exit.
Toney took a sharp turn and sprinted down the alley, gun in hand. He looked over his shoulder constantly to try and spot the predator. He stopped suddenly and spun on his heel as he aimed his sights at the alley entrance waiting for his stalker to turn the corner. The sweat built up on his temples and began to fall to his cheeks as his gun shook in his hand and he breathed heavily. Growing impatient, he slowly backed up further slowly turning back to run out the alley and escape while he made some distance. But when he turned, he saw his pursuer farther down the alley, watching him.
“I’ve had enough of this.” Toney yelled as his fingers tightened on the trigger, “This ends here and now.” He fired. The dark figure moved in a blur and took flight avoiding the bullets. He shot up into the air at blurring speeds and turned on a dime as he rocketed back towards his grounded prey. Toney continued to fire on the moving target as he ran for the alley exit. The in-flight Monarch then collided with him, causing Toney to fumble his gun to the alley floor as he flew backwards out of the alleyway. He flew through the streets, narrowly avoiding the traffic, and through the jewelry store front crashing into the back wall. The Monarch witnessed the crash from the sky with a smirk. He flew down and scooped Toney’s gun off the alleyway floor and then hovered to the jewelry store.
“Toney Toney Toney,” He said as he flew in through the broken window, “Look at the mess you’ve made.” He paused as he scanned the destroyed store front. “This is what happens when you disappoint a man like Simon Rockefeller.”
Toney began to squirm in an attempt to rise from the broken glass that covered him. His assailant hovered closer with Toney’s gun in hand as he watched him struggle to get up.
“You may stop me, but you won’t stop the movement.”
“Oh please, neither you nor your friends have any way of stopping what’s to come.” He said as he raised his gun and fired into Toney’s gut twice. He dropped the gun to the floor, and rifled through his pockets. He found nothing but lint. Angered, he turned and flew out the destroyed entrance of the jewelry shop.
Elsewhere, New York
A ping could be heard outside the window. The guard heard it as he walked by and looked out the window into the night sky. He could hear a zipping sound, but couldn’t make out the figure. He squinted harder as the figure closed in the distance.
“What the hell?” He said as he raised his rifle, but it was kicked out of his hand as The Conspiracist kicked him to the floor as he slipped thru the window. The Conspiracist then rolled and came to his feet; pulling his gun he fired two silenced shots at the guard. He stayed down. The Conspiracist then dragged the body behind a box of crates. Going back to the window he reached his hand out and felt for the zip line device. He felt around until he found it and pressed a button retracting the zip line. He pocketed the device and took out another device. It was a watch face attached to a wad of explosive by several wires. He pressed one of the side buttons rapidly, and the time went up on the face of the watch. It came to seven minutes and then he carefully placed it upon the body. He pressed one more button on the other side of the device and it began to count down. He then patted it softly, as for safe keeping. He exited the room and stealthily moved down the hallway to a door cracked open slightly. The door read “Control Room”, and he could hear yelling coming from the other side. He peaked through the slit.
Two men sat at a control panel looking out the window into the large warehouse. The Conspiracist opened the door without a sound, and looked over the two men as they pressed buttons and directed those below. Below, on the floor level, a new shipment of some type of drug had just come in. The Conspiracist suspected a new drug was being introduced, but he wasn’t sure what it was yet. The tip he got confirmed his suspicion however. Luckily, this operation was small, only three thugs and a director not counting the two control men. He could take them. He leaned in closer between the two men at the controls.
“Excuse me.” He said as he grabbed both of their heads and cracked them together. They both slumped into their seats unconscious. The Conspiracist pushed one of the bodies to the floor and sat down in its place. He looked over the control panel and then at his watch. Two minutes left. He looked to the ceiling of the warehouse. The light fixtures hung mostly from beams and columns which formed, what looked like to Conspiracist, a theatrical entrance.
“You lazy sons of bitches better hurry up! We’re runnin’ outta time.” He went to look at his watch when the building shook from the small explosion. The lights flickered lightly and the henchmen paused as they eyed the director.
“What the hell ya staring at me for? Go find out what happened!”
They put down the crates and ran up the stairs. Just as they left the director heard the click of a safety being turned off behind him. He turned to find the barrel The Conspiracist’s of M9 pointed between his eyes. The Conspiracist then raised a finger to where his mouth would be behind the mask.
The henchmen made their way to the site of the explosion. There was nothing of real importance in the room, but they found the body. They left that room and made their way to the Control room. There they found the two control men out cold on the floor. One of the henchmen knelt down for a pulse.
“They ain’t dead, but they’re sure as hell knocked out.” He said as he looked to another.
“Oh shit. This is lookin’ like some real superhero shit! We need to get out of here.”
The three henchmen cleared out the room and ran back down to the floor level. There they found the director oddly standing by the already stacked crates.
“Jimmy and Thompson was knocked out cold, boss. I think that explosion was a distraction!”
The Conspiracist stepped from behind the crates and fired three times, the gun bucked lightly in his hands. The three henchmen dropped. The director cringed at the sound of the gun firing so close to his ears, and didn’t see the attack coming.
The Conspiracist pulled him from the floor keeping him semi-conscious so he could get some answers.”Naps over. Now what’s in the crates?” The man responded, but was stilled dazed from the strike, “Chemoprophylaxis, Chemoprophylxime. I don’t know! All I do is move it for Rockefeller!”
The Conspiracist paused before he brought the man closer to his masked face. “Did you just say Rockefeller? Simon Rockefeller?” The director nodded.
He threw the man to the floor, and turned his back as he reached into his pocket. “I’ll tell you what; I’ll give you twenty seconds.”
“Twenty second for what?”
He got up and ran for the door. The Conspiracist placed the last bomb on the crates when his phone rang.
“What is it? I’m kinda busy.” He said as he carefully placed the bomb and set the timer.
“It runs deeper than we thought. We have a job for you.”
“What a surprise.” He shut the phone closed and began to set the bomb. He placed it on the crates and walked through the exit. He crossed the street, and stepped into a dark ally. There a metallic black 69 mustang sat. The Conspiracist opened the door and got into the driver’s seat. As he turned the key in the ignition the fireworks began. The bombs blew one after another. The explosion got bigger and bigger each time until the warehouse suddenly collapsed on itself. The whole building turned into a pit of flames, as various flaming boards and other items rained onto the street.
“Note to self: park farther away.” He said as he pulled out of the alley and away from the warehouse. At the same time, on the other side of the road the police raced towards where the warehouse once stood.
Posted 05 August 2011 - 12:31 PM
The music industry has been infiltrated, and turned into a tool to help steer the masses in the direction the Illuminati chooses. The use of subliminal messaging is strong in the today’s music and is looked at as a key to controlling the next generation. In hopes of wealth and stardom some have “sold their soul” to these elitists, but in the end they are simply a tool to be used until worn out, a puppet in the scheme of things. Puppets to the industry, some musicians and entertainers are not even aware of the strings that they are dangled by. While there are those who are smart enough to figure it out unfortunately, they are not always able to break away, not with their life. Not without help that is.
The sun was almost completely beneath the horizon and the street lights were just buzzing to life. A white haired man sat in a bench across from the lake with a briefcase at his side. The old man sighed heavily as The Conspiracist approached.
“Have you added watches to your ‘Do not trust list’ also now?”
The Conspiracist sat down beside him and began to speak behind his mask.
“I was here on time. I just had to make sure you weren’t followed.”
“Jesus Christ, you were spying me out for two hours. God you’re paranoid.” He said as he reached for the briefcase. “Anyway, here’s the file and everything you’ll need.”
He opened up the briefcase and pulled out a manila folder that sat on top of a ready-to-assemble grappling gun. He silently scanned it over.
Ezekiel, the white haired man, broke the silence. “Yeah, they’re really going after these young talents now. We thought it was bad before. They’re going after these young kids as soon as they start getting big and blind them with money. So we need to stop them before they get to them. This kid is the first one, Kenneth Moss.”
“Looks simple enough.” The Conspiracist closed the briefcase and rose from the bench, walking away from Ezekiel.
“Your money will be placed in your account!” Ezekiel yelled after him. “Not that you care.”
The Conspiracist army crawled through the ventilation. He could hear the elevators going up and down. He crawled towards the noise. He pushed out the ventalation cover and watched it drop down the elevator shaft.
“Shit.” He said getting down from the ventilation. He now hung on by his fingers. Readying himself he took a couple breathes before pushing off the wall onto the elevator cables. He began his ascend. He had to get to Kenneth Moss before he signed with 11K Records.
The elevator was coming back. The Conspiracist swung himself to the other set of cables and swung back in time to land on top of the descending elevator. He jumped down into the elevator and pressed his floor. Taking out his gun he screwed on the silencer. The doors opened to a drugged Kenneth.
“Get in!” He said pulling him in.
“Wake up. Wake up!” The Conspiracist yelled as he shook Kenneth awake.
“Oh shit. Where are we?”
Kenneth continued to rub his eyes for a couple moments before he answered. The Conspiracist was impatience and it was beginning to bleed through his mask.
“Yo. What the hell happened?”
“You were drugged.”
“F*ck, I remember now. One minute he was cool and the next he was talking about sellin’ my soul. THEN he stabbed me in the neck with a needle. Who knows what he put in me!”
“Did he mention anything where you were going next?”
“No no... He did say something about MK-ULTRA.”
The Conspiracist mouthed “The Monarch” under his mask and tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
“By now Kenneth, the police will be looking for you… You’re going to have to die.”
“Wait, what the hell? I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t do anything, and why the hell did you save me if you’re just gonna kill me!”
“A staged death. The public is going to have to think your dead. As far as they know, you’re already guilty. They control the media and that means most of the public will blindly follow what they see on the news. You’re going to have to die.”
“Christ, I can’t believe this is happening.”
The Mustang turned into an alley. They stepped out of the car and walked towards a metal door. The Conspiracist approached the door and felt the lining as he got to the top he felt a strip of tape broken. He pulled his weapon, and slowly opened the door. Gun first, he entered the room.
“Conspiracist.” The weak voice came from the shadowed corner of the room. His gun was already leveled at the
“Who the hell?... Toney?”
“Yeah, it’s been a while, huh?”
He lowered his gun as he gestured Kenneth to come in.
“You’re bleeding on my couch.”
“That’s the welcome an old friend gets?” He said talking through the pain.
“Hmm, so why are you bleeding on my couch again?”
“The Monarch, Simon’s let the damn dogs loose again. You must be really starting to be a thorn in his side.” He laughed through his bloodied teeth. “I found some information on a USB drive, but I had to ditch it in the lodge when I saw him. You have no idea what they know and are going to let happen.”
The Conspiracist didn’t respond. This wasn’t the first time Toney popped up with a goose chase case. Walking into the kitchen, he opened a cabinet. It didn’t have any food, but there were three duffle bags. He took one and threw it over his back.
“You hear me?!” Toney yelled.
“There’s a kit in the bathroom, Toney. Clean yourself up.”
The Conspiracist moved towards the door allowing Kenneth to step out before him before he began to speak.
“You’re getting sloppy Toney. Clean yourself up and head to Khazan. We’ll discuss it there.” He shut the door behind him. Toney sat in the dark as he removed his bloody hand from his stomach. The bleeding was getting bad. He pulled himself to stand and leaned on the wall to get to the bathroom.
Toney stood in the bathroom mirror as he attempted to sew up his wounds. Luckily the bullets didn’t hit anything major and he was able to pull them out. His amateur stitching job left the bathroom floor and sink spotted with blood. He pulled the final string when he heard footsteps in the dark house. He instinctively grabbed his glock off the sink and hit the light as he slowly walked through the house. The dark apartment was only lit by the stray moonlight that shone through the windows.
“Who’s there?” He questioned. “You picked the wrong house to break into, you son of a -“
He was stopped short as a hand clasped his throat and pushed him against the wall. The figure then pointed Toney’s gun to the floor and squeezed on the trigger, emptying the clip into the floor.
“No way.” Toney was able to mutter.
“It actually wasn’t that hard to find you Toney… I could’ve just followed your blood trail.” He chuckled to himself, “There’s nowhere to hide now though. You might have been able to miraculously survive our last encounter, but now there will be no more mistakes. There’ll only be your blood spilling, and this time, all of your blood. Though, I must thank you for leading me to the infamous Conspiracist hideout. Even with all of the power and sight they have over this world. The Conspiracist has somehow managed to stay in the shadows. He is quite careful. It surprises me really, but I digress. Where did you hide the device?”
Toney responded by spitting in his face. Monarch wiped the spit from his face with a smile.
“Now that was just rude.”
He lifted Toney off the ground until a quiet crack could be heard. He continued to squeeze to assure his death before dropping the limp body to the floor. It keeled over as The Monarch stepped away. He searched the house first for the device, but came upon something else. He entered the bare bedroom. There was nothing, but white walls. Then he hit the light switch and the walls lit up. Incomprehensible drawings and writings covered the walls. They lapped over each and even crept onto the ceiling and floor. Monarch stepped back at the discovery and tried to soak it all in.
“This guy really is a nut job.”
He sat and attempted to put the thoughts of a crazy man together. He followed the pictures and lines until he saw a sentence that stood out. “Khazan, the epicenter.”
“The island of Khazan? Of course… This should be interesting.”
Posted 05 August 2011 - 11:32 PM
Posted 06 August 2011 - 10:41 AM
Posted 07 August 2011 - 03:41 PM
Khazan is a socialist island nation in the southern Atlantic, infamous for being the epicenter of the Meta-Human population. The capital alone is said to hold over 18% of the world’s meta population, so it’s not a surprise that the country is riddled with catastrophic events on the norm.
These events, then in turn, open holes in the nation’s stability, allowing people, and I use the word lightly, such as Doc Velocity to rise to power. After a lengthy investigation my team has come to the conclusion that Doc Velocity is simple a diversion, a clown to keep the people of Khazan busy. I’m not convinced that Khazan’s government has been contaminated by the likes of the Illuminati, but I still don’t trust them. I suspect another evil may be present. Khazan is not to be trusted.
The Mustang charged forward as it ripped through the Kingsport ports. An odd mixed stench of fish and pollution filled the air. This added to the gray overcast blanketed an ominous feel upon Kingsport.
“Welcome to Kingsport, Khazan.” The Conspiracist said as he whipped out of the ports and pushed into the city limits only to merge onto to Crowe Road. They headed north into the country side.
Monarch flew over New York City after gathering all he needed from The Conspiracist’s safe house, and torching what was left. He slowed as he came to a penthouse. He descended to the balcony and landed lightly. Pulling the glass sliding door aside he stepped in to see the Rockefeller family enjoying breakfast. The Rockefellers noticed Monarch, but continued to eat, not gratifying him with a greeting. He stepped further into the penthouse.
“How is the search going?”
The old man asked without turning to Monarch. He continued to spoon the food into his mouth as he waited for his answer. Monarch stepped a bit further into the room and considered his words carefully before answering.
“I’ve extinguished Toney Reynolds as a problem...” The Monarch said, “But not before he led me to The Conspiracist’s New York city safe house.”
“The Conspiracist?” He paused for a moment and then continued eating. “…A mere thorn in our side. What of the device?”
“Brother Reynolds didn’t have it on his person when I caught up to him outside the lodge, and it wasn’t in the safe house. I would assume he’s given it to The Conspiracist…”
Simon interjected with authority. “No, if the Conspiracist had the device, we would know. The device is still in New York. He’s hid it somewhere. I’ll send a team to search the lodge and its vicinity.”
“And what should I do?”
“Find the Conspiracist… and bring Kenneth Moss to me.”
“I have reason to believe they left the states, Mr. Rockefeller… To Khazan.”
“Well, then bring them back. We can’t have him handover Kenneth Moss to the Angels. This crusade that they’ve started against us is beginning to gain too much momentum. Go to Khazan and handle the situation. We don’t need any more hiccups.”
Monarch bowed out as he stepped to the balcony and then took to the air.
The Conspiracist pulled off the main road to a considerably more rural area of Khazan City. The one-way dirt road was narrow and long. They drove a mile or two in before they arrived at a small lake house. The Conspiracist slowed the car and placed the gear in park at the beginning of the driveway.
“Something’s wrong.” He said as he eyes quickly searched the area behind his mask.
The Conspiracist pulled a pistol from his shoulder holster, and got out the car.
“Wait, where are you going?”
“Stay here.” He said jogging off into the woods.
Kenneth looked at the lake house over once again and realized the shattered windows and bullet holes in the siding.
“Are those bullet holes?” He said as he looked harder. “F*ck,” He began to frantically search the car, “There’s gotta be another gun in here somewhere.” He opened up the glove compartment and pulled out the silenced pistol that was concealed on the roof of the compartment. He looked over the gun and cocked it back. “This’ll do.”
The Conspiracist by this time had circled around the back. He watched the house, but saw no movement. He moved in.
He holstered his weapon and nimbly ran up a stack of chopped wood that was placed against the house and up the
wall before jumping into an opened window on the second floor. He landed silently in an upstairs bedroom and pulled his weapon once again. He opened the bedroom door, and the odor lunged at him. The smell of rotten flesh had filled the house. He rushed down the stairs to the living room where he saw it, bodies were everywhere. The bodily warts and decayed flesh was sickening. He kneeled down to the bodies to inspect them closer.
“Shit.” Was all he could say to describe his feelings.
The door then swung open. The Conspiracist leveled his weapon on the door, and Kenneth stood in the doorway with his hands up.
“Chill, it’s me!”
“I told you to stay in the car.” He said as he stood up.
“What the hell happened here?” Kenneth said, the strong odor finally hitting him too. He tried to hold back his vomit.
“By the looks of it, an outbreak of some kind… An epidemic.” He sat down at one of the computers and began to access the most recent files as Kenneth covered his mouth and inspected the bodies at a distance.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m looking for the last file that was accessed. If I had to guess, whoever did this was being tracked… and didn’t want to be found.” He opened up the folder for recent files and realized they were all removed. Whoever did this tried not to leave any trace of themselves. He went in deeper, searching the backup files until finally he came upon a name… Scourge.
“He’s some corrupted healer.” He said as he ran over to a filing cabinet pulling out a manila folder, “We started keeping tabs on him after he was connected to this Children of Sayang group. I was on this case a while ago before I got transferred. I figured it was a dead end. I guess I was wrong.”
“So what do we do now.”
The Conspiracist put the folder down and inspected the bodies closer. “It looks like some of these wounds are fresh. He couldn’t have gotten far.”
“Are you saying that we’re going after this guy?”
The Conspiracist didn’t answer. He stepped over a couple bodies on the way to the door.
“Can’t you see what he did to your whole team?”
“You can either come with me and finish the job, or stay here.”
As soon as the Conspiracist grabbed the doorknob and began to turn it, a thud came from behind him. He turned to see Scourge standing over Kenneth’s groaning body.
“So, are you ready to ‘finish the job’?”
The Conspiracist raised his gun and fired, but Scourge dashed back through the doors. He leaped over Kenneth’s body as he darted through the doors after him. Upon him entering the room he was tackled from the side to the floor by Scourge, knocking his gun away. They struggled on the kitchen floor. Conspiracist punched him off, and scurried back to gain some distance. They both stood to their feet, staring each other down. Then Conspiracist went for a right hook, but Scourge caught his gloved fist in his hand. Slowly the leather glove began to disintegrate off his hand and Conspiracist could feel the decay begin to start on his flesh. Quickly he raised his knee and connected with Scourge’s gut knocking the wind out of him. He keeled over. The Conspiracist picked up the gun that was knocked from his hand earlier and turned back to Scourge. Scourge began to laugh as he raised his head and outstretched his hand at him. The Conspiracist could suddenly taste his blood in his throat and he suddenly caught a heated fever. He dropped the gun to the floor as he clutched his throat and fell to his knees. He coughed heavily through his mask. Scourge began to stand to his feet as he concentrated harder. He wanted to end this, but his concentration was suddenly broken as he was struck from behind. The groggy Kenneth attacked him with the butt of his handgun breaking the poisonous hold he had on The Conspiracist. Scourge fell to his hands and Kenneth stepped forward placing the gun to the back of his head.
“No. Not yet.”
Just as he pulled the trigger Scourge knocked the gun away causing the bullet to barely graze his arm. Kenneth stumbled back from the blow, surprised when Scourge stood and lunged at him with both his hands. Kenneth, already groggy, collapsed under the sleeping hold. Scourge fell to one knee under the realization of his wound and held his arm. The Conspiracist, still coughing heavily went for his gun. His hazy vision wouldn’t allow him to perfect his aim. He fired. The bullets whizzed by Scourge. Scourge, however didn’t wait for the Conspiracist to better his aim and lunged out the one story window of the kitchen. He rolled on impact and continued running into the woods. The Conspiracist ran to the window and continued to fire blindly into the woods, emptying the clip. He dropped the gun and fell to the floor as he coughed heavily. His lungs seemed to open up a bit more the farther Scourge got away.
He crawled over to Kenneth and shook him awake.
“Get up.” He said through a sore throat.
Kenneth, half sleep sat up and rubbed his temples. “He got away?”
“Yeah, shit. Get up.”
Conspiracist helped him to his feet, and he placed an arm around him as he led him to the car.
“Hurry, someone probably heard those gun shots, and already called 911.” He said as they rushed to the car.
Posted 12 August 2011 - 09:09 PM
The Khazan Port
The Monarch crashed into the ground leaving a large crater in the concrete beneath him. He grumbled and cursed under his breath as he looked up to see the colorfully mechanized hero flying at him once again.
“This is a complete waste of my time.” He stated as the hero swayed suspended in the sky. Monarch stood and pushed off the ground as he deepened his feet into the crater and rocketed at the hero. The hero stopped on a dime as he placed his mechanized hand forward and unleashed a red blast toward the Monarch. The Monarch twisted and turned in the air avoiding the laser assault the hero was barraging him with.
“I am Bionic-Beam and you villain, will burn under my lasers.” He yelled in his computerized voice as he outstretched his other to fire another beam. The Monarch chuckled at his theatrics as he neared the hero and grabbed the mechanized arm, swiftly tearing the limb from the rest of the suit. The hero shrieked and wires sparked and crackled as his arm fell to the sea. The Monarch then used his inhuman speed to tear the other arm from the suits body before he had time to react to the loss of his other. The Monarch then held the armless suit midair as he peered into the dark helmet. The rocket boots that held the “Bionic-man” in the air slowly puttered out as Monarch tore off the helmet. The little man inside cringed as his head was revealed to the villain. He then attempted to reason for his life.
“Listen dude… My bad. I didn’t mean no harm. I just got into the SLJ and I kinda thought this was a chance to prove myself. So can we forget about this and I’ll act like I never seen you and you can go rob banks or whatever?” The hero pleaded. The Monarch smirked and pulled the heroes revealed face closer to his own. “Sure.” He said simply.
He let go of the suited man but as it neared his feet he firmly pushed off his suit propelling both of their bodies in opposite directions. The Bionic-Beam plummeted to the ocean floor with a large Ka-Plunk.
The Conspiracist pulled the car over as soon as he got far enough away from the safe house. He could still hear the sirens, but he had to care for his wound. He cringed under his mask as he slowly peeled the leather glove from his hand, revealing his blackened flesh.
“Go to the trunk and get the metal briefcase.”
Ken quickly returned with the briefcase, opened it and then passed it to the Conspiracist. He pulled a bottle of water and poured the water on the burn and then took out a brown unlabelled bottle. He began to apply the liquid. He wrapped it immediately after and pulled another glove from the suitcase. He put on the glove and flexed his hand.
“You sure you don’t want to go to a hospital?”
He pushed the door open and went back to the trunk. Taking out a phone he began to make another phone call. No one picked up. He continued to dig through the mess in the trunk until he found a red folder.
“The Actors Guild.”
“Actors Guild? Never heard of it.”
“Of course you haven’t. Their group is supposed to be a secret, but I’ve had my run-ins with them.”He continued as he put the papers in order, “The Actors Guild is a group of six, not including their evasive leader, who is bent on this crazy satanistic agenda to bring back some demon girl from the abyss. Toney originally was supposed to-”
He stopped midsentence as he palmed his face and gathered more papers. He then began to put them together.
“He was supposed to what?” Kenneth exclaimed as The Conspiracist put the papers together and then held them up.
“How didn’t I see it before?”
“Okay, what’s going on?”
“This is what he was blabbering on about…” He said as he closed the trunk. “Toney was an ex-mason who had ‘found a conscience’ and turned against the elitists that are commonly known as The Illuminati. He then used his connections to leak us their future plans… but as time went on he began to get sloppy. We then believed that they were getting suspicious of him, so in an attempt to preserve his life, put simply, we decided not to answer his calls anymore.
After that we heard he went freelance and eventually just flat out became desperate. He began to hire these heroes for hire in attempt to combat them but in the end he just got a lot of heroes killed. He disappeared after that until that day at the safe house and I think whatever he had for me… This time it was the real deal.”
He looked at Kenneth as it was obvious he was still trying to soak in all the information that was just spoon fed to him.
“So what do we do now? Go back to States?”
“No not yet, that would take too long. I have to find a way to contact Toney… And I think I know somebody who might know how.”
The Mustang pulled into the pitch black alley that even managed to hide from moonlight. The only thing that was visible was whatever the headlights shone on; the rest was overshadowed by the large apartment buildings. The Conspiracist stopped the car with its headlights focused on a fire escape ladder and stepped out of the car.
“I would say stay here, but you’ll just follow me in five minutes.”
Kenneth closed the door behind him as he responded, “Got that right. You see how dark it is down here?”
“Fine, then keep up.”
The Conspiracist ran up the wall and leaped for the fire escape ladder. He pulled himself up and continued up the stairs. Kenneth watched the display from the alley floor in awe. He knew he wasn’t doing any that. He looked around for a stepping tool.
The Conspiracist got to the third story and saw the cracked window. He pushed it up and stepped into the apartment. Gadgets and other little devices hung from the ceiling and covered the kitchen counters. He took another step and suddenly the lights switched on along with a blaring alarm. The gadgets began to whiz and whirl as a young light skinned boy ran out the room wearing a du rag and a robe wielding a large high tech axe.
“Get the f*ck down now!... Conspiracist?” He said realizing who it was. “What the hell are you doing breaking into my house? I thought you were in the states?” He said pressing a remote that shut off the alarm and gadgets.
“I was… something else came up.”
Just then Kenneth fell in through the window. The young man walked into the room and sat on the couch as he continued the conversation.
“That’s the guy?”
“Yeah,” The two gestured to each other. Conspiracist continued, “But when I got to the safe house to drop him off… There was an incident.”
“Oh my God, are you serious? I just dropped off some equipment the other day. Shit… Do you know what happened?”
“Scourge happened. By the time I got there everybody was already dead, but he was still there. I couldn’t stop him though.” He said as he felt his hand.
The young man listened intently as he cleaned and then put on his glasses.
“So what are you doing now?”
“Before I left, Toney Reynolds showed up at one of my safe houses in New York. He told me he had a USB of some sort that he hid in the lodge. I think he may have stumbled onto something big.”
“What has he stumbled upon this time?”
“Remember the rumor of The Sayang group unleashing a demon?”
“Yeah, but I was told it led nowhere.”
“Well, Toney said the USB showed that the Illuminati had a mole in the group and knew of Sayang’s plans, and for some reason, are doing nothing to stop them. Maybe they think this will somehow help them further their own agenda… Either way, we have to get a hold of Toney and find that USB.”
“I’m guessing you tried the phone already?”
The Conspiracist simply gave a cold stare under his mask.
Though he didn't see his face Max could feel his piercing eyes, “Okay okay!”
Max got up and walked over to his computer. He unplugged a couple things and then plugged another couple things in before typing away onto the keyboard. Security clearance warnings flashed in and out on the screen but were bypassed. Then the screen went black, the colored pixels then slowly returned revealing a satellite picture of The Conspiracist’s NY safe house. It was dark, but it was still clear what happened. The police tap and squad outside was already a red flag, but the scorched walls were what really concerned the Conspiracist.
“He led him right to it.”
“Monarch, and that means he’s on his way here.”
Max sat for a second in ponder before he began to speak.
“In that case, you’re gonna need a bigger gun.”
The Conspiracist smirked under his mask.
Posted 12 August 2011 - 11:07 PM
Aren't you that guy that didn't know who Tarvius was?
Posted 12 August 2011 - 11:09 PM
Aren't you that guy that didn't know who Tarvius was?
Posted 12 August 2011 - 11:41 PM
Posted 12 August 2011 - 11:45 PM
You're also the guy that quotes gigantic pictures directly above the posts he's responding to.
Posted 13 August 2011 - 12:00 PM
Aw shucks, you're gonna make me blush.
Thanks for reading.
Edit: *Sees Treach's Sig*
I'm not ashamed of my bieber fever!
Posted 16 August 2011 - 06:33 PM
In New York, the lodge was crawling with agents from a vague agency, claiming to be working with the federal government. They had been searching for the device for a couple days now, and the public were beginning to wonder what the hubbub was about. They fed them the load of bull that usually quiets them down…
An agent approached the barricade with his hands raised attempting to quiet the crowd.
“We’re asking you to step back from the barricade. We have received a bomb threat on this area from a local extremist group. It would be in all of our best interest for you to make as much distance from this area as you possibly can.”
His words didn’t scare the crowd away, but it did stop them from asking questions. They now rooted for these agents, thinking they were on their side.
Khazan City, Max Weber’s Apartment
Kenneth has been silent up until this moment. Max had left to retrieve a new toy he’d been working on.
“So what’s the plan?”
“The plan is that you stay put. Max’s apartment may be one of the safest places in Khazan City, and there’s no need for you to run into this.”
“What are you talking about? You brought me into this fight, and you’re not gonna put me on the bench now. I’m going.”
The Conspiracist said nothing and Kenneth wasn’t sure if he had won, or if the Conspiracist decided not to acknowledge his refusal. Max returned with the large handgun on his shoulder, carrying it in his arms as if it was a small child.
“This is the newborn.” He said handing it to the Conspiracist.
“This’ll do.” He said as Max continued to go over the specifics on the gun. The Conspiracist wasn’t too interested, but who could tell under that mask. He weighted the gun in his hand, getting a feel for it.
“Now, how are we going to get to New York before sunrise?”
Max Weber rubbed his chin. “How about I give you guys a ride?”
The Monarch hovered over the bullet riddled lake house as a group of KPD squad cars pulled into the front yard. The Police received a call about gun shots and sent officers to investigate. They stepped out of the squad cars and converged in front of the house, quickly discussing how they were going to go about the house.
They pulled their standard issues from their holsters and dispersed along the property in twos. The first group of two approached the still hanging open door and already could smell the decayed flesh and death. One of the officers took out their radio and immediately called it in while the other pinched his nose shut and tried to refrain from vomiting. The Monarch silently landed behind one of the officers.
“What the h-” Was the only thing the officer could get out before Monarch grabbed him by his throat and tossed him to the side. He slid across the graveled driveway before crashing into a squad car. The other officer went to fire, but the Monarch moved in a blur. He pushed the officer’s hand holding the gun into the air and pushed him through the door. The shots fired worked as an alarm to the other officers and then they poured into the house. Monarch walked over the bodies and sat at one of the computers lined up on the desks. He noticed the recent searches and had to assume someone was trying to put the pieces together.
He then pulled out a disc and inserted it into the drive. One by one, the computers’ screens began to flicker before smoke rose from the computer towers. He stood up from the now useless computers and began to walk out, but an
officer entered the room through the kitchen with his sights rested on Monarch.
The Monarch slowly turned to face the officer with his hands raised. The officer glanced down at the fallen bodies at their feet and recognized one of his brethren among them. Monarch smirked at the officer. The officer trembled.
“You think this is funny you son of a bitch? Get on your knees and put your hands behind your back!” The officer commanded as a second officer approached from behind him.
The Monarch began to get down, but instead grabbed the chair in front of the computer and threw it. The motion was a blur to the officers. The computer chair cracked against the officers’ bodies as they flew back into each other. Monarch took this chance and bolted out the door.
“I call it… The Max Jet!” Max said as he hit the lights in the warehouse. The lights clicked on in sets revealing the aircraft that sat in the middle of the large room along with partly built sport cars surrounding it.
“You have your own jet? But you’re living in that small ass apartment?” Kenneth exclaimed as they walked closer to it. He felt the sleek siding of the plane.
“I used my parents’ inheritance wisely, I’d say.”
The Conspiracist stood silent behind the other two as they both stared at the aircraft.
“My only question is: Will my mustang fit?”
The ceiling began to open up as the Max Jet’s engine fired up. The Conspiracist sat in the co-pilots seat and played with the controls. Kenneth sat in the back sitting along the wall with no leg space due to the ‘69 metallic black Mustang taking up most of the space. Then suddenly a loud and continuous metal clanking could be heard over the jet’s engines. The noise was getting closer and was coming up the ramp. Kenneth and the Conspiracist looked to each other before looking to the ramp. Max appeared walking up the ramp in a mechanized, armor clad suit. The black and silver armor was sleek and fitting. He breathed heavy in the mechanized armor as the faceplate lifted up to reveal his face. He eyed the duo staring at him.
“What? I’ve been waiting to test this out!”
The Conspiracist shook his head and turned back to the controls, but Kenneth was still caught in awe.
“You’re like Megaton, but with cooler armor!”
“Not quite, but you have to start somewhere.” He said as he walked by and sat in the pilot’s seat. He pushed on the throttle and the engines roared. The aircraft slowly rose through the opened ceiling doors and momentarily hovered over the warehouse before launching off into the sky.
Posted 24 August 2011 - 03:05 PM
The Max Jet soared through the night sky. Cloaked from the eyes of man and the Khazanian military it wasn’t long before they were safely cruising above the Pacific. Max initiated the auto pilot and released the controls. It wobbled a bit before seeming to take a life of its own. He then turned to the Conspiracist, his armor’s faceplate lifting, as he began to talk.
“So what’s the plan?”
“We get to the lodge. We find the device.”
“You realize that the lodge will be crawling with age-“ Max was cut off as a proximity alarm sounded through the Jet.
“Collision imminent.” The computerized voice warned.
Max took back control of the Jet and pulled with all his strength, attempting to avoid the object. It was too late. The Jet rattled on impact, and veered to left.
“What the hell was that?” Kenneth yelled from the back.
The Conspiracist looked up from the controls into the darkening sky. The Monarch could be seen flying by the Jet. He was turning around for another go at the jet.
“There,” He said as he pointed him out. “Where’s the guns?”
“What? Why would it have guns?”
The Monarch prepared himself again and rocketed towards the jet at blurring speeds. He slanted left and then swung around tackling the jets side. It heaved to the left again as the sensors and alarms went off.
“Engine 3 offline.” The jet warned as it dipped through the air.
“We’re not gonna make it like this!” Max said as he pulled up and rolled, attempting to shake the Monarch. “Take the controls!” Max said as he let go and stormed out the cockpit.
“Where are you going?” The Conspiracist grunted as he struggled to keep the plane up and on course.
“To buy you some time.”
He stepped to the back of the jet and pressed a button releasing the ramp. The vacuum of air pulled on everything in the Jet and Kenneth held on tight to his seat. Max walked to the edge of the ramp and spotted The Monarch as he now caught up with the jet once again. Max looked over the edge and after a deep breath his faceplate closed. He fell forward allowing himself to free fall through the air. He fell through the air until his jet boots finally puttered to life. The boots propelled him higher into the sky. He twisted through the air as he raced back after the Jet.
He could see Monarch preparing himself for his next attack. Monarch soared at the Jet, but Max kicked his boots into high gear as he tackled Monarch through the sky out of away from the jet. The two plummeted to the ocean as they wrestled through the sky. Monarch gained the upper hand in the struggled, throwing his elbow at the Max’s metallic face. Max fell back and then reached for his back. The back of the power suit shifted revealing two holsters holding two machine pistols. Max reached for his back and pulled the two weapons out. He fired. The bullets barraged Monarch. Monarch bolted through the sky in response trying to avoid the attack, grunting at the grazing of some of the bullets.
“Damn this guy is fast.” Max said as he tried to get a clear shot on him.
With Monarch busy the Max Jet turned back onto it original path as it headed back for New York, now only minutes from its destination. Monarch watched as the jet flew away, but was quite busy at the moment. He cursed under his breath.
“You’re going to be sorry you did that!” Monarch stated hotly.
“Yea, we’ll see.”
His jet boots flared as he tried to close the distance between him and Monarch. His pistols clicked in response to the empty clips and Max reset them in their holsters. Monarch saw this as his chance. He doubled back and then dashed at his opponent. Max reached for his reloaded machine pistols but he wasn’t fast enough. The Monarch used his inhuman speed to deal quick blows to his abdomen, damaging the armor. Warnings flashed in Max’s cybernetic helmet with each blow he took. The final blow was across Max’s helmet which sent him falling to ocean. He caught himself before he would inches above the oceans face. He shook his head, regaining his composure and realized he wasn’t winning this fight. Damaged, Max’s boots flared as he raced after the jet.
The Monarch watched his opponent flee, and looked down at his bloody knuckles. Clenching his fists, he bolted towards New York. He knew failure was not an option.
The cloaking device hid the sight of the jet from the world, but the blaring sounds of the jet could still be heard. They neared their destination. Conspiracist called for Kenneth as he sat in the cockpit. Kenneth appeared in the door way moments later.
“Take the controls.” He commanded after placing it on autopilot. “It’ll land in the park, after you land it. Get to the lodge.”
“Where are you going?”
The Conspiracist threw on a parachute as he pulled the jet door open and without a second thought, he leaped. The air whipped by his mask as he fell through the cool night sky. The lights of the city became the lights for his landing strip. He spotted the lodge rooftop. It was crawling with agents. He pulled his chute and began angling his descent. He hit the roof under gunfire and rolled on impact. He continued his roll until he found himself behind cover. Three guards stood at the rooftop entrance and fired on The Conspiracist’s cover. Conspiracist eyed his surroundings as the guard’s bullets ricocheted off the metal ventilation that protected him. He noticed the scaffolding that hung from the side of the building and darted out towards it. He pulled his weapon and fired on one of the cables. The three round burst snapped the cable. He leaped and grabbed hold of the cable as it swung.
The swinging cable brought him around the guards and The Conspiracist found himself at their side. He leveled his weapon and slightly whipped it as he fired. The gun shot its burst and bucked in The Conspiracist’s grip. The three guards simultaneously dropped.
The Conspiracist kicked down the rooftop door down and slide down the staircase railing to the carpeted floor below. The lodge was eerily quiet as the Conspiracist crept through its halls. He got to the second set of stairs when a sudden presence sent chills up his back. He didn’t have time to react before he was struck. The gun fired as it was knocked from his hands and over the staircase balcony. The Conspiracist fell down the stairs but caught himself as he pushed off a stair with his hands and landed on his feet. He then looked back up the stairs to find the Monarch looking down on him.
“Ah the Conspiracist… We finally meet in person. I’ve heard so much.” Monarch said, slowly descending the stairs.
“Then you must know that I’m getting that device.” The Conspiracist slowly began to back up from the bottom of the stairs.
“Really?” He said contorting his face in disbelief, “Well, you have been quite an annoyance to Mr. Rockefeller. So much so… You know how much his granny panties got caught in a bunch when your name was simple mentioned in the same sentence as this device.” He revealed the USB.
The Conspiracist’s eyes narrowed under his mask at the sight of the device, and then slowly turned to his gun that lay on the floor a couple yards away.
“If that’s the device, then why are you still here? Why haven’t you run back to Rockefeller like the good fetching dog you are?”
The Monarch smirked.
“The same reason why this lodge isn’t falling into a pit of flames right now; I want to know what’s on this little device just as bad as you do… I wonder…” He said as he eyed the device.
The Conspiracist, during Monarch’s rant, had been inching his way towards his weapon and now was only feet from his handgun. He realized Monarch’s pause and took his chance. He sprung for his weapon and rolled into a crouch, whipping out his weapon and firing where Monarch once stood. The bullets only met air and the wood wall panel.
He was gone.
He then heard the quick footsteps approaching, but he couldn’t react fast enough. Monarch pushed The Conspiracist’s forearm away, knocking away his gun and continued the assault by pushing his palm into his chest. The Conspiracist flew back through the lodge doors.
The wooden lodge doors were splintered open by The Conspiracist’s body, and he continued to skid across the now wet asphalt. The rain came down hard as he struggled to get up. He could barely breathe and his vision was blurred, but he could see Monarch’s silhouette as he walked through the door way.
“Now,” He said as he stalked. “This ends.”
The Conspiracist writhed in pain as the Monarch neared. The Monarch clenched his fist, readying himself for the final blow. The Conspiracist then suddenly reached for his ankle holster and unloaded his clip. Monarch’s body convulsed as the bullets tore through his chest. He fell to a knee, breathing heavily and spitting blood. He then laughed sadistically as he wiped his mouth and he began to rise from his knee.
“You see,” The Monarch gloated as he finished wiping the blood from his mouth. “You can’t wi-“
The metallic ‘69 Mustang charged into Monarch’s torso, cutting him off mid-sentence, and continuing to roll him over before screeching to a stop. Kenneth kicked open the door and walked to the backend of the mustang to find Monarch’s motionless body. He slowly jogged by as he ran to the Conspiracist.
“I’m saving your ass too much, man.” He said as he lifted the Conspiracist to his feet.
The Conspiracist pushed Kenneth off of him once he was standing. “Where’s the Monarch!?” He pulled a new clip from his coat pocket and reloaded his pistol, dazed he walked over to where Monarch’s motionless body. He rifled through his pockets, and pulled out the USB device. It sat in his hand soaked and damaged. The plastic case that encased it was chipped and crushed partly. He breathed a sigh of relief as he clenched the device in his hand. He then placed Monarch in his iron sights once again.
“Now, this ends.”
Bang, Bang, Bang… Bang.
The Conspiracist knocked on the apartment door until an half armored and bruised Max answered the door.
“Well, you look great.” The Conspiracist said as he pushed himself into the apartment and Kenneth followed.
“Well yea, come on in. You already broke into my house once today…” Max said sarcastically as he placed a Ziploc bag full of ice to his forehead. The Conspiracist opened his hand and revealed the damaged the device. Max placed the device in his own hand, inspecting it.
“Let’s hope this all wasn’t for nothing.” He plugged the device into his computer. The computer downloaded the device and slowly the documents began to put up, and then suddenly stopped. The word “Corrupted” popped up.
“That’s all we got.” Max said as he opened up the documents he could scavenge.
The Conspiracist skimmed over some of the pages and smiled under his bloodied and soaked mask.
“That’s all I need.”
2 Weeks Later…
Most of the information on the device would have been useless to anybody that found it, but the Conspiracist didn’t think like most. He figured out the numerology, broke down the decryptions and followed the patterns. He finally found something, something that spiked his interest.
The night fell and the Conspiracist nimbly ran across the roof tops of Khazan city. He followed his hunch and they led him to the Monument Theater. The sudden blare of the distant sirens of the KPD signaled that he was too late. He finally leaped to the neighboring rooftop of the Monument and glared down at the pack of cops below…
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