Jump to content

Search the Community

Showing results for tags 'night shift'.

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


Forums

  • Official Match Boards
    • CBUB Rated Matches
    • CBUB Unrated Rumbles
    • CBUB Season Draft Matches
  • The Comic Book Universe Battles
    • CBUB General Discussion
    • CBUB Character Chat
    • CBUB Tournaments
    • CBUB Archive
  • The Plebiscite
    • Fan Discussion
    • Images and Pics
  • RP Community and Fan Fiction
    • The RP Board
    • RP Planning Board
    • CBUB RP
  • The Fantasy Powers League
    • FPL General Discussion
    • FPL FanFiction and RP

Blogs

  • Shallow Guild of Bleak Sunrise
  • The Higher Realm
  • Marvel's Corner
  • RakaiThwei's CBUB Blog
  • MarvelFan15's Blog
  • Nd5's Blog
  • Respect for tradition.
  • The Merc Files:
  • Tarvius' REVIEWS!
  • Joecorp's Blog
  • Artemis Entreri's Blog
  • Human, All Too Human
  • HulkSmash9's Blog
  • ND7's Blog
  • videogameman's Blog
  • The Master Speaks.
  • Jailer411's Blog
  • 天
  • Skirmisher's Characters
  • Ryonchi's Blog of the month
  • The birth of a two worlds (and a video game)
  • There is no Justice. There is Just Us.
  • Skaar's retreat
  • fanman22's Blog
  • chucky's Blog
  • Ego.... Killed!
  • Rock Rap n Fights
  • Death hammer clan
  • Philosophy of Nerdism
  • Who here loves comics
  • blogs_blog_33
  • blade's Blog
  • Blue Beetle (Jamie Reyes)'s Blog
  • Shockwave's Blog
  • Hayesmeister5651's Blog
  • Tom's writing corner
  • DamagingRob's Blog
  • Eewww blogging!
  • Sober Second Opinion
  • A Dragons Blog
  • g4hardcore's tainted blood logo
  • Kurumi Mitsutana
  • FaKhRuL45's Blog
  • cape's land
  • kim123's Blog
  • High School Journal.
  • Zreth's Super Unicorn Fun Land
  • R'lyeh reviews
  • rat's Blog
  • Top 5 Favorite Fictional Characters
  • tournament contenders
  • Captain's Log
  • Sid's Stuff
  • dvdsetshop's Blog
  • God-Speed_88's Blog
  • TheMarineV2's Blog
  • DSkillz's Domain
  • The Dark Side of Things
  • DJ's Perogative
  • Camp Crystal Lake
  • Kane Investigations
  • Catharsis
  • ZedTheMagician Room of Tales
  • AVP vs The Terminator's Awesome Blog of Awesomeness
  • Twogunkid's Blog
  • Trapa's Blog
  • megarock58's Blog
  • Monya's Blog
  • Prinny Kasai Ranger
  • Mindless Ramblings from The Core
  • M Bison's Blog
  • The Miles of Trials, the Trials of Miles.
  • Shockwave's Blog
  • electra's Blog
  • Fashion designer information
  • Jesus' Holy Place
  • Top quality fashion blog
  • mycshop.com.blog
  • comas' Blog
  • Mika's Blog
  • megarock58's Blog
  • The Word
  • KibaxHinata's Blog Adventures
  • The Dark Prince's Blog
  • Blah Blah Blog
  • The Loser's Club
  • Nine-Tailed Fox Anime Reviews
  • Space Ghost Coast to Coast, Season 12
  • broadwaybeyonder

Find results in...

Find results that contain...


Date Created

  • Start

    End


Last Updated

  • Start

    End


Filter by number of...

Joined

  • Start

    End


Group


AIM


MSN


Website URL


ICQ


Yahoo


Jabber


Skype


Location


Interests


Favorite Fiction Character


Favorite Non-fiction character?

Found 5 results

  1. Chapter 4: Clang! Clang! Hannibal King stood on the rooftop of the abandoned building, looking out at the LA skyline. The three days had come and gone, and he had found what Shroud had asked him for. It had taken a fair amount of convincing to get Terri to look over this Russell guy’s phone. “You are out of your mind!” she had said in the parking lot of LAPD HQ. “You want me to do a phone dump on a phone and not let the cap know?” “I know it’s a big ask, Terri, but trust me. There may be something on this phone that can help us get Lincoln. We can finally get him off the streets for good!” Terri raised an eyebrow. “Just what have you gotten yourself into, Hannibal?” Even now, Hannibal still wasn’t entirely sure. But before he could get serious consideration to going down the fire escape and back to his one room apartment, the shadows rolled in around him. He turned to see Shroud behind him. “Good thing you showed up,” King snarked. “If I kept hanging around up here people would think I was going to jump.” Shroud didn’t look impressed. “Do you have the information I requested of you, detective?” King held up Russell’s phone. “Gave this thing the works. Russell was in contact with someone who called herself Alex Bell. Fake name, of course. My contact tells me it is alias used by a Lester Verde. College kid, lives in the suburbs. I’m going to check it out.” “No.” King looked confused. “What do you mean, ‘no’? You said you want to know who this guy is to lead you to whoever is after your people.” “I simply meant, detective, that you won’t be checking this lead out on your own.” The darkness faded back to reveal Moth and Tatterdemalion in civilian outfits flanking him. “My associates, Moth and Tatterdemalion, will accompany you. In order that this Mr. Verde may be more… cooperative in revealing what he knows.” “Now, wait a minute!” King interrupted. “I don’t need anyone’s help to interrogate somebody!” “Shroud did not ask your permission,” snapped Tatterdemalion. “Relax, Tatter,” said Moth. “This’ll be just like an episode of ‘Law & Order’.” King looked resigned at Shroud. “I guess I don’t have any choice here, do I?” Shroud shook his head, then let his darkness envelope him, leaving King, Moth and Tatterdemalion on the roof. Following the climb down the fire escape, the three piled into King’s 2008 Buick. There was an awkward silence as King drove through the congested streets. King finally broke the silence by turned to Tatterdemalion sitting next to him. “So. Tatterdemalion. I seem to remember hearing some of the vets in LAPD talking about you. Assaults. Arsons. How did you wind up with Shroud?” Tatterdemalion held his gaze straight ahead. “None of your business, detective.” Moth leaned in from the back seat. “Don’t mind him, King. He’s feeling extra old today. I can tell you my life story if you’re interested. You remember the Gala a few months back in New York?” “I.. don’t know. Wait. Wasn’t there some kind of wardrobe malfunction? People’s outfits falling apart?” Moth smiled proudly, using her powers to allow a thread from her shirt to come loose and levitate in front of King’s eyes. “Everyone’s outfits. Leaving me free to snatch a cool 15 mil.” King batted the thread away. “I thought the money from the Gala went to charity.” The thread returned to Moth’s shirt as she replied. “Sure. That’s what they say. Charities that those rich morons support, putting money into their own pockets. I was just making sure it got where it needed to go.” “While keeping 4 million for yourself,” smirked Tatterdemalion. Moth huffed and leaned back in her seat. “Let’s just be clear here,” King said. “When we get to this Verde kid’s house, I call the shots. We find out what the kid knows, nobody does anything crazy. Okay? Or this deal is off.” Tatterdemalion looked at King with a cold stare. “We are professionals, detective. Just remember that should you do something ‘crazy’, Shroud has given us permission to prevent you from compromising our organization.” The conversation in the car fell silent once more. The car came to a stop outside of a two story suburban house. The three exited the car and King knocked on the door. A short women in her 50s with fading brown hair answered the door. “Afternoon, ma’am,” King said. “I’m Detective Huey. This is Officer Lewis, and News. We’re with the LAPD and we have some questions. Is this Lester Verde’s residence?” The woman looked annoyed at the three, then looked over her shoulder and yelled. “Lester! Honey! Get your butt downstairs right now!” “Coming, Mom!” She turned back to King. “Come on in, detective. I’m Leslie Verde, Miss Verde, Lester’s mother. Is this about that computer junk? I had a feeling Lester was making a mistake buying all that stuff off eBay. Come in, come in.” Miss Verde led the trio into the house, not before Moth shot a dirty look at King. “Huey, Lewis and News? Seriously?” King shrugged as they walked into the cramped living room. “This isn’t about him messing around with web cams again?” Miss Verde went on. “I’ve always said he was to smart for his own good. You’re not here to arrest him, are you?” “No, Miss Verde. We just want to ask him some questions.” King was interrupted by the sound of feet running down the stairs. It was Lester Verde, in his mid 20s with red hair and beard. “Hey, Mom! What’s going on in here…” Lester stopped when he noticed King. He slipped on a pair of glasses. “Um, who are these people?” “They’re with the police!” Miss Verde said in a loud whisper. “They want to talk to you about that computer junk in your room! I told you it was probably stolen.” “Mom!” Lester said through gritted teeth. King stepped in between them. “We’re not here to talk about computer junk, Lester. We’re investigating a case of a man name Jack Russell.” Lester started to sweat. “Russell? Um, er, I don’t know any Russell.” “Really?” said Moth. “Well, to be fair he didn’t really know you, seeing how you called yourself Alex Bell.” “You pretended to be a girl online?” Miss Verde said in shock. “Oh where did I go wrong!” “Mom, it’s not what you think!” “And it isn’t what you think either, Lester,” Tatterdemalion said. “We have Russell’s phone. We know you used an alias to gain his trust and set him up for a meeting with people who tried to murder him.” Lester took a step back and fell into a chair. “Murder?! No, you don’t understand! I didn’t think they were gonna hurt him! They told me they just wanted to find him!” King leaned in toward Lester’s face. “Who? Who told you to catfish Russell?” “You better tell them the truth, Lester,” prattled Miss Verde. “For once in your life do something right for a change.” “SHUT UP, MOM!” Lester snapped. Miss Verde was dumbstruck as Lester put his head in his hands, then looked up at King. “They in got in contact with me months ago. I had submitted my research on sound waves and sonics. They said they would be give me more equipment and funding if I worked for them.” King grabbed Lester roughly by the shoulders. “I need a name, Lester. Or I can’t guarantee that the D.A. won’t prosecute you for conspiracy, kidnapping, and attempted murder. Give me the name!” “The Headmen!” Lester choked. “They call themselves the Headmen!” King let Lester go, then turned to face Miss Verde, Moth, and Tatterdemalion. “I think we need to take a look at Lester’s room.” “I don’t know what’s going on around here,” said Miss Verde. “But I have a feeling you people better get a warrant if you’re going to nose around my house.” Tatterdemalion turned to Moth. “Or we may need to take Lester to the… station. For further questions. Wouldn’t you agree, Officer Lewis?” Moth gave a defiant grin toward King. “Took the words right out of my mouth, Officer News.” “No one’s taking anybody anywhere,” King barked, not noticing behind him as Lester pulled out a small circular device from his pocket. Moth’s eyes widened. “Detective, look out!” Lester swiftly slammed the circular device onto a wooden coffee table and dropped to the floor. The device started beeping out the familiar melody of the Carol of Bells. King’s heart sank. “Oh what the…” At that instant the device blasted out a wall of sound that sent everyone flying. Windows and mirrors shattered, and everyone covered their ears in pain. As the noise died down, Lester leapt to his feet and ran up the stairs. “Moth!” shouted King, his ears still ringing. “Are you alright?” “Yeah, wonderful,” Moth yelled back. “Except I can’t hear a damn thing at the moment!” King drew his pistol and ran up the stairs. “Officer News! Get outside the house and guard the perimeter! Officer Lewis, stay Miss Verde!” “But I want to get the guy!” Moth shouted as Tatterdemalion staggered for the door. Miss Verde was behind the couch holding her head. “Look it at my house! That stupid, stupid boy! Look what he’s done to my house!” “Oh shut up,” Moth said. Part of Miss Verde’s sweater inexplicably came undone and wrapped around her mouth to silence her. King reached the top the stairs and slowly walked to the door that Lester had disappeared through. He gently grasped the doorhandle, then flung the door open, gun at the ready. Before him, with his back to the door, stood Lester, adjusting a red cape that covered the purple onesie he wore. He placed a bell-shaped helmet on his head, and a gauntlet with a golden sphere on the end of it on his left hand. Lester turned to face the dumbfounded detective. “You think you can stop the Headmen? You will never defeat the guardians of science! Or the genius of Doctor Bong!” With a swift gesture, Lester slammed the golden sphere against his helmet. Booooooong!!! The vibration sent Hannibal flying out of the room and onto the stairs. “So much for nobody doing anything crazy,” he muttered under his breath, fighting to stand up Doctor Bong approached him. OK: Hannibal King (Peak human, police training, gun) (For those of you who know him from Blade, he hasn’t reached that point yet), Moth, and Tatterdemalion vs Doctor Bong (Younger version of the original character with the same powers and traits) If Doctor Bong escapes, he wins. If King, Moth, and Tatterdemalion catch him, they win. Game On!
  2. Chapter 3: He’s the Hairy Handed Gent Jack Russell groaned as his eyes attempted to focus in the darkened room. He tried to move his arms only to find that both of his wrists were manacled and metal chains extended to the stone wall behind him. A leather collar was around his neck and handcuffs were strapped to his ankles, all with chains clinking against each other. Squinting, Jack could make out a female figure in front of him, fixing him with a cold stare. “You’re finally awake. Good. Now we can proceed.” Jack tried to pull away but the chains wouldn’t give. “Who are you?!” he yelled. “Where am I?!” The woman stepped closer to Jack. He could make out the two ponytails in her hair. “This is the Tower of Shadows,” she intoned in her best attempt at a Dracula accent. “This is where you shall remain, until you die. And, perhaps, even beyond Death itself!” Jack looked back in terror, then the woman burst out laughing. “I’m sorry,” she chuckled. “I’ve always wanted to say that!” She gave a sultry smile as she walked further into the stone room. “But come to think of it, this does remind me of a video I saw once. A sexy woman? A semi-attractive man tied to a wall? Then the guy says…” “Just keep the hell away from me!” Jack shouted. The woman snapped her fingers. “Yes! Just like that. But unfortunately for you, furball, I’m not here to play.” She walked back to the oak door entrance to the room and picked up a plastic tray. “Meatloaf? Potatoes? Digger wanted to give you hot dogs, but we all agreed that would be too on the nose.” She set the tray on the ground, then moved to unlock the bonds on Jack’s wrists and ankles. She gave the tray a shove with her foot . “Go ahead, eat. Though just to give a heads up, Tick Tock isn’t exactly a master chef. You’d think a guy who can see the future would be able to see how his food turns out.” Jack stared at the tray in disbelief. “Just who are the hell are you people? You shoot at me! You hit me with a shovel! Then you…” He looked at the tatters of what was his shirt and jeans. “Oh God. What did you make me do?!” “Calm down, wolf boy. We have nothing to do with those guys who were chasing you. The only reason we know about little Miss Madball is because Tick Tock snuck a peek into your future to see where the meeting would take place.” Jack pulled as far as the collar would let him, stopping a few feet short of the woman. “So what do you want from me? A thank you for chaining me in a dungeon instead of being strapped to an autopsy table somewhere?” The woman rolled her eyes. “Right now, I’d settle for you eating this stupid food. Go ahead. I made sure they didn’t slip any silver in there.” Jack slowly crouched next to the tray, and picked up some meatloaf with his hands. He slowly put it in his mouth and ate it. “See?” the woman smirked. “Now be a good boy, and mommy will give you ice cream for dessert. Oh. I’m Moth, by the way. Welcome to the team.” Hannibal King stared at the figure in the black cloak. He reached for his holster but his gun was gone. “Forgive the intrusion, detective,” the man’s voice boomed. “You’re property will be returned to you after we have finished.” King scrambled to his feet and charged toward the man, only for a woman to seemingly appear out of nowhere and flip him on to his back. The woman held King’s gun and phone in her hands, and put her foot across his throat. “Where did you come from?” King gasped. “Oh, she was always here, detective,” the man said. “Her dance simply blurred your mind to prevent you from seeing her. Let him up, Dansen.” Dansen removed her foot and King massaged his neck as he turned to face the man. “Alright, alright. We’ll talk. First let’s talk about who you are!” “I am Shroud,” the shadowy figure said. “I wish to engage your services.” King finally made it to his feet, not breaking eye contact with Shroud. “My services, huh? Funny, cuz I never thought my services would interest a mob boss. That is you, right? The guy who’s been taking out some of the major players in the LA underworld? Were those freaks I saw at Tombstone’s with you?” “You are partially correct, detective. I am merely a man who believes the same things you do: that this city is on the brink of falling into chaos at the hands of cruel, violent men. These are men who do not fear the law, or those who enforce it. But they do fear me. And I shall bring them to heel.” King turned to look at Dansen, who continued to glare at him. “Sure. And running all of their rackets shouldn’t hurt your bank account either. Look, if you know anything about me, you should know I’m not some dirty cop. I lost my job with LAPD because I wouldn’t look the other way. Why should I work for you?” The darkness billowed from Shroud’s cape, surrounding King and making Dansen and Shroud seem to vanish. “Because I can give you what you want, detective,” said Shroud from the blackness. “Assist me, and I give you my solemn vow that Tombstone will be brought down. I will require your connections with LAPD to acquire some information for me.” The darkness gave way to reveal a square spot on the roof, where King’s gun and phone sat. But another cellphone sat between them. “This cellphone belongs to a young man named Jack Russell. He is another individual I desire to join my organization. However, he is being pursued by another player in the game. A group that his well-organized, and well-equipped.” “So what do you want from me?” King shouted into the darkness. “Why don’t you just send your playmates after these guys?” “I will not send my team into an unknown situation, detective. If this group is looking to acquire their own super powered forces, they pose a risk to everyone in this city.” “The way I see it,” interrupted King. “Your whole crew is a risk to this city. Why don’t we just give a call to the Avengers and let them handle it?” King could of sworn he heard a faint chuckle coming from the shadows. “The Avengers. They are far too busy fighting cosmic threats and world conquerors to deal with this. They are the shining heroes. Figures who gladly stand before the public in the light of day, giving them something to look up to.” King felt the hairs on his neck stand up, as if someone was moving behind him. “Then… who are you people?” Shroud’s voice whispered in his ear. “Consider us… the Night Shift.” King spun around and threw a punch but hit nothing, only to feel a kick take out his left knee and punch to his face send him to the ground. “Your initiative is admirable, detective,” Shroud said. “But at the moment you just need to make a choice. You can either choose to fight me and lose. Or you can work with me, and together we can make certain that Tombstone never harms another person again. Do we have an agreement?” King rose to his knees then looked around the darkened rooftop. “Yes. But when you take down Tombstone, I want to be there to see it. Now. What do you want me to do with this Russell guy’s phone?” The darkness started to disappear as Shroud’s voice echoed. “Jack Russell was in contact with a woman named Alex Bell. It is most likely an alias. Check the LAPD’s database for who it belongs to. You will make a report of your findings on this roof to me. You have three days.” The darkness had completely cleared, leaving King alone on the rooftop with his gun and two cellphones in front of him. He picked up his and searched the files. As he had guessed, the pictures of Shroud’s people that he had taken had been erased. Grumbling, King holstered his gun, and picked up Russell’s phone. Terri wasn’t going to like this. He made his way to the fire escape as the full moon shown down on the roof. Jack was almost finished with the meatloaf as Moth sat on the ground in front of him with her legs crossed. Jack took another bite and looked up at her. “Do you have anything else you could be doing?” “No, not really,” she replied. Jack grabbed a handful of mashed potatoes and scarfed it down. “So. Could you at least tell me where I am?” “Well, I was honest about one thing. This place is called the Tower of Shadows. You probably never heard of the show, haven’t you?” Jack shook his head, and Moth shrugged. “Not surprising. Some old monster movie show from the 70s. Digger used to work on it as a stagehand.” Jack wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Digger. That wouldn’t happen to be the guy with the shovel?” Moth smiled. “Well, well. Abs and brains. Yeah, that’s Digger. Shroud found him here in the Tower. He made it his home, after he killed the cast and crew.” Jack spit out some meatloaf in shock. “Ugh. I’m sorry, what?” Moth leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “That’s right. He killed them all. According to Digger, they all treated him like crap. He was just some horror movie geek that worked for them. Then, one night, the host of the show, Mr. Gravely, invited him to come here to audition for a part in the show. When Digger got here, Gravely seemed to have lost his mind, killing two of the actresses. But it turned to be a trick by Gravely and the rest to humiliate him. Digger says everything went black, and when he came to, he was surrounded by all of their dead bodies and holding a bloody shovel.” Jack gulped nervously, as Moth’s expression grew more excited. “He buried the bodies in the backyard, then hung himself by the chandelier in the living room. That’s where he died. And after the rope finally broke, the shock of the fall woke him up.” Jack started to twitch slightly. “You mean, he really is a zombie?” Moth picked up the tray. “As sure as you’re a real werewolf.” Jack shuddered and shook his head, wrapping his arms around himself. Moth’s face suddenly turned pale. “Jack? Are you alright?” Jack pounded the ground with his fists, which were already starting to be covered with fur. “Moth!” he groaned. “The chains! Quickly!” Moth dropped the tray and grabbed Jack’s right wrist. She quickly locked the manacle in place, but before she could move to the left, Jack grabbed her by the throat. “I can feel it!” Jack snarled. “It’s coming! It’s coming for you!” “Misfit! Digger!” Moth screamed. “Get in here!” The two giants swung open the door and grabbed ahold of Jack’s arms, causing Moth to fall to the floor. “Take it easy, Russell!” Digger grunted. “Or not!” growled Misfit. With a roar Jack yanked the chain out of the wall. Misfit tumbled on top of Digger and Jack leapt through the door and into the creaking hallway, becoming more wolf-like as he went. “Get off of me, freakshow!” Digger shouted, shoving Misfit to one side. Misfit pushed back with a dangerous gleam in his eye. “Why don’t try pushing me again, pus brain!” “Oh will both of you shut up and stop him!” Moth yelled, reforming her wings and flying through the door. By the time they made it down the ornate staircase the werewolf had already sent Tatterdemalion and Needle crashing into some suits of armor. Hangman sent his rope around his waist but the werewolf slashed him with his claws and sent him flying into the study. Tick Tock was hiding behind the sofa, staring wide eyed at the scene. Then the door of the Tower of Shadows swung open and darkness entered the room. Shroud and Dansen had returned. Dansen raised her hands in preparation only for the werewolf to leap on her and bring her to the ground. Shroud sent a current of darkness around the head of the werewolf, and began to rain down blow after blow. The werewolf howled as it finally grabbed hold of Shroud’s robes. Giving a tug, the werewolf raised it’s other paw to come crashing down on his face. But Shroud blocked the blow, gritting his teeth as he gazed at the werewolf with sightless eyes. “You are a guest in our home, Mr. Russell. And it is time you learn some manners.” OK: Shroud (Generation of darkness, Daredevil level extrasensory perception, expert martial artist and acrobat) (Full strength) vs Werewolf by Night (Full strength) If Shroud can immobilize Werewolf and get him back in his cell, he wins. Game On!
  3. Chapter 2: Such a Lovely Place Private detective Hannibal King sat at the wheel of his darkened car, his focus locked on the building across the street and a block over. It was an ornate building with pillars on either side of the door. In the well kept yard was a sign with the building’s name: The Lincoln Funeral Home. King took a bite out of his In-N-Out burger, wiping off some mustard that dripped on his trench coat. He knew the illustrious Mr. Lincoln probably was responsible for a fair share of the bodies that were tended to in his establishment. He was the cold, calculating gang leader whose ruthlessness had earned a name whispered by every criminal in Los Angeles: Tombstone. King picked up a pair of binoculars and looked through them at the funeral home. It didn’t matter what the LAPD thought. Everyone knew that Lincoln was dirty. Someone just needed to do the work and catch him in the act. And if the LAPD was too busy covering their backsides, then King would just have to do it himself. King’s thoughts were interrupted by a van driving past him and turning to park in front of the funeral home. He focused the binoculars on the van to see two men and a woman get out, leaving the shadowy figure of the driver behind. Two of Mr. Lincoln’s men walked out of the funeral home to meet them, and checked them for weapons. “Alright then,” King breathed. “Now things are getting interesting.” Moth stood with her hands above her head and gave a cheeky grin to the man who was frisking her. “Has anyone told you you have very strong hands?” The man just glared at her and turned to his partner. “She’s clean. What about the other two, Juan?” Juan gave another look at the tall, black haired man in a suit, and the stocky, brown haired man in a black wifebeater. “No guns, Robbie. But the guy did have this.” Juan held the bundle of rope he had taken from the stocky man’s shoulder. “That’s mine,” the stocky man growled. Juan smirked at him, and held the rope out to him. “Not if you want to get in there, it isn’t.” “Please, gentlemen,” the tall man said nervously. “I’m sure we can find a compromise here.” Moth put her coat back on as she interrupted. “There’s no need to compromise anything, Percy. If you want the rope, you hold on to it.” She gave a look to the stocky man, who’s look was becoming more agitated. “You can have it when we’re done. Alright, Jason?” Jason looked away and grumbled his consent. Moth turned back to Juan and Robbie. “See? Settled. Now let’s get going. We wouldn’t want to keep your boss waiting.” As the three guests were escorted into the funeral home, behind the building a man in black snuck over a fence. He quickly moved through the shadows until he got to a window leading to the basement of the building. He opened the window and slid into the funeral home. On the main floor, Moth, Percy and Jason walked past viewing areas until they reached a door marked ‘private’. Juan opened the door for them and they entered the lavishly furnished office. “Take a seat,” Juan said. “The boss will be here in a sec.” Moth and Percy sat down, but Jason stayed standing. Moth looked up intently at Robbie. “What are you looking at, lady?” he said. “Oh, nothing. Just admiring your threads. The jacket, the shirt. It looks very nice. Don’t you think, Percy?” Percy looked away from a clock on the wall. “Hmm? Oh. Oh, yes! Very…um… functional.” The door to the office opened again, and the man known as Tombstone entered. He was dressed professionally in a black suit and tie. His skin was white with albinism, and his teeth looked liked they belonged in the mouth of a shark. Behind him was a muscular man with blond hair in a denim jacket and jeans. He gave an imposing stare toward Jason, who didn’t blink as he returned it. “Sorry about my lateness,” Tombstone said. “We had just finished a service that ran long.” “Not anyone I know, I hope,” Moth smiled. Tombstone sat down at his desk, and took in the sight of his visitors. “I was wanting to see exactly what it is you people were offering. Your initial message was rather… vague.” Moth leaned back in her chair and extended her arms. “We wouldn’t want that, Mr. Lincoln. We understand that you are busy man with a lot on your mind, not all of it legal. And we represent someone who wants to assist you in your daily operations. For a price, of course.” Tombstone stared at Moth, then started laughing. Juan and Robbie joined in as Moth tightened her fist beneath the desk while she maintained her pleasant expression. “Did I say something funny?” “Oh, not at all, miss,” Tombstone chuckled. “I’ve just never had anybody try to shake me down before.” “I assure you, Mr. Lincoln, we are not wanting to take advantage of you. We are prepared to make it worth your while, giving you the protection you need from the authorities and other organizations.” “He already has protection,” the man in denim hissed. “Oh really?” said Jason mockingly. “Does he have you call someone for help?” Tombstone held up a hand. “Easy, Bush. Just how do you people plan on protecting me?” Moth glanced at the clock and then at Percy before answering. “It is a guarantee from our leader: the Shroud.” A hush fell over the office. Moth looked at each of the men in front of her. “Surely you have seen the news? Certain gang members going missing, some turning up dead. Others talking about a living shadow laying waste to 10 men at once? Consider that power at your disposal. Or, maybe, that power turned against you.” Tombstone glanced at his men’s disturbed faces then back to Moth. “Let me get this straight. You work for the guy that’s been taking out my competitors. Now he wants me to sign up with him, and he doesn’t even have the guts to show his face?” Moth smiled and shrugged. “I’ve seen his face. Trust me, you’re not missing much.” Tombstone chuckled and nodded in approval. “Heh. You’re cute. You just bought yourselves 2 more minutes. Talk fast.” Moth gave another look to the clock then went on. “The Shroud will allow you to continue to operate in the city, however there will be some changes made to make certain things run smoothly. Percy?” Percy pulled out a pair of glasses from his pocket and a note pad. He put the glasses on turned to first page. “Er, now, then. If you were to accept our offer, the Shroud or one of his associates…, um that’s us by the way, would be in charge of responding to any threats to your operations, criminal or law enforcement related. The Shroud or his associate will either broker a peace, or will… um…neutralize the problem by the most efficient means possible.” Percy looked up from his notes at the dumbstruck crime boss and his men. “The gist of this is that there will be no more drive bys or retaliation killings of any kind that endanger civilians not in the game. Any action taken without the Shroud’s authority will be punished. Severely. ” In the basement, the man in black fumbled with a flashlight. He shone the light around the room, letting it rest on a large safe. “Lazy,” he muttered beneath his ski mask. “Didn’t even bother to put it behind a picture.” He knelt down next to the safe, and put his ear to the door to listen to the tumblers as he turned the dial. “As for guns,” Percy went on in the office upstairs. “The Shroud is unfortunately kind of particular about that subject. You would be out of the weapons and gun smuggling business, not to kids, and especially not to people planning attacks on civilians. The Shroud is a little more lenient regarding drugs. As long as it’s not to kids, and it’s not enough for them to distribute on their own, it’s fair game for you.” Tombstone stared unblinking as Bushwacker grit his teeth. The man in black finally opened the safe, revealing the stacks of money inside. With a wave of his hand, a white bag with dollar signs on it appeared in his grip seemingly out of nowhere. He started emptying the safe of it’s contents and putting them into the bag. “Hey!” The man in black’s heart stopped, then he turned to see a man wearing a gold chain standing at the stairs leading to the basement. “What the hell are you doing here?!” “And finally, there’s prostitution,” Percy said. Robbie and Juan sat up slightly, having let their eyes close as Percy had rambled. “Now, we aren’t going to get in the way of people’s entrepreneurial spirit. If that’s how a woman, or man for that matter, wants to make their living, so be it. But it will be their choice. No sex slaves, no grooming kids, and no drugging people up to make them perform. And no freebies for your people. They pay the same as everyone else.” “Let’s just cut to the chase,” interrupted Tombstone. Percy gulped as Tombstone’s eyes stared at him. “How much is the Shroud expecting me to pay for all of this?” Percy fumbled with his notepad before finding the answer. “For his protection and assistance, the Shroud will require 33% of your gross earnings at the end of the year. That will still leave you with 67% to use for upkeep and payroll.” “Are you done?” Bushwacker said. Percy gave a last look at his notes. “Umm, yep. Yes, that’s all.” Bushwacker clenched his fist. “Good.” With a swift gesture he pumped his fist, and Bushwacker’s arm started to melt and reform itself. Where his hand was, there was now the barrel of a shotgun. Juan and Robbie pulled out their pistols as well, and aimed that Percy, Moth and Jason. Meanwhile, in the basement, the man in the gold chain approached the man in black with his gun drawn. “Put down that bag, genius. Are you some kind of nut to break in here? Do you even know who you’re stealing from, man?” The man in black swung the bag so it collided with his assailant’s face. He tried to run but the man in the gold chain tackled him by his ankles to the floor. “Oh, you’re going to get it now!” he said as he scrambled to get on top of the thief. The thief didn’t reply or fight back. He just waved his hand in front of his face and whispered under his breath, “Once Upon a Time.” The man in the gold chain didn’t even notice that the thief’s clothes had changed from black to a red and blue harlequin outfit. He grabbed the thief by the shoulder and turned him to see his face, only to see the face of a skeleton. “What the Hell?!” he screamed. “Close enough,” the Brother Grimm said, as sparkling light flew from his finger tips and blinded his attacker. “Please let me waste them, Mr. Tombstone,” Bushwacker said. “Let me start with this geek and finish with this snarky little…” Tombstone stood up from the desk. “Enough, Bush. Lady, and gentlemen. I’ve listened to your proposal. And I believe we have nothing left to discuss.” Moth looked up coyly. “But what do you want me to tell the Shroud?” Tombstone gave a humorless smile. “The Shroud sent you to deliver a message, so it’s only fair I do the same. Bush? You and the boys take these jokers downstairs. I’m sure they’d appreciate a first hand look at how the cremation process works.” Suddenly the door to the office burst open as the Brother Grimm sent his opponent slamming into the desk. “Barton!” Percy shouted. “Now?” said Jason. “Yes, now!” Moth shouted as she ducked beneath the desk. Jason held out his hand and his rope, still hanging around Juan, came undone and started dragging Juan toward him. A fierce right hand knocked down Juan and the rope left off of him into Jason’s hands. “Once Upon a Time,” Percy said and waved his hand in front of his face. He was instantly transformed into the same outfit and Barton. Robbie opened fire, and Percy pulled out a handkerchief from his sleeve. Miraculously the handkerchief wrapped around the bullet, stopping it in midair. Before Robbie could get off a another shot, he cried out in alarm. His jacket and shirt were starting to come undone, long fibers unfurling outward from him. Moth grinned dangerously at him. “Told you I liked that outfit. Let’s see if it looks better if we take it in a little.” The fibers constricted around Robbie’s neck and chest as he fell to floor. Bushwacker opened fire with the gun in his arm and sent Percy sprawling to Barton. “You weren’t supposed to draw attention to yourself, brother,” Percy said. “You’re welcome, Percy,” Barton hissed. “Now let’s get the hell out of here!” Moth stood up and caused the fibers in her coat to reform themselves into a pair of wings. She swung them towards Tombstone only to have them be shot at by Bushwacker. “Reloading that must be a bitch,” Moth said as her fibers flipped the desk over. Tombstone shattered the desk with a single blow of his fist. “Kill these freaks! All of them!” The sound of gunfire carried through the air to Hannibal King’s car. He grabbed the police radio and tuned in to the scanner. “Dispatch! Emergency! Emergency! Shot’s fired! Shot’s fired! Lincoln’s Funeral Home! Send back up immediately!” A confused voice answered back. “Is that you, King? What are you doing on this frequency? You aren’t supposed to have a set up! You were fired, remember?” “Hey, charge me later!” King said, watching as three men ran out of the funeral home to the car parked on the curb. “There was some kind of meet going on at Lincoln’s! They might be in trou…ble.” King stopped short as he watched the door of the car break off, and a large, misshapen man climbed out. The three gang members pulled out their guns, but the thing just roared and knocked out all three with a swinging forearm. King looked in disbelief, then turned back to the radio. “Dispatch! Send all the men you’ve got! We’re going to need it!” OK: The Night Shift: Moth (Mentally can control fibers, either in clothes or hair. Can form fibers into wings that she can use to fly.) The Brothers Grimm (Can magically produce small, novelty objects with magical powers.) Hangman (Strength and mental control of indestructible rope.) Misfit (Strength and durability.) Tombstone (Strength and durability), Bushwacker (Strength, durability, and can transform his arm into a gun), plus 10 gang members. If the Night Shift can defeat Tombstone and his men, and escape with their loot before the cops arrive, they win. Game On!
  4. Episode 1: She Looked So Good, She Couldn’t Be Real The door creaked as the young man peeked into the decrepit warehouse. The lights flickered off and on, making it hard for his eyes to adjust. He was a man in his late 20s in a brown jacket and jeans. He had a gym bag slung over his right shoulder. A sudden noise startled him, and he peered back into the darkness. “Hello? Are you there? Alex sent me. Is anybody there?” “Hello, Mr. Smith,” a woman’s voice answered. “Please remain where you are.” Mr. Smith could start to see the figure of a tall, slender woman some 15 feet away from him. She was dressed in what looked to be a purple sports bra with matching tights. He couldn’t make out her face, just out of reach of the light. “Are you Ruby? Alex, she told me that you could help me get out of the city. Maybe even the country.” “Did Alex also inform you that what you request is not an inexpensive proposition?” Mr. Smith held up the gym bag. “I’ve got the money right here.” He stepped forward to hand over the bag when the woman’s voice rang out. “No. Toss the bag to me, please.” Mr. Smith was puzzled by this, but gave a few swings with the bag before tossing it toward the woman. It landed at her feet with a thud. Ruby bent down and zipped open the bag, being careful to not let the light show her face. “I know it’s not all of it, but it’s all I could get! I had to sell my car, the rest of my clothes!” Ruby looked up from the gym bag. “There is certainly less than half the funds required to get you the new identity you requested, Mr. Smith.” “I don’t care about the new identity!” interrupted Mr. Smith urgently. “I just need you to get me to Mexico as soon as possible.” “Don’t worry, Jack,” Ruby’s voice soothed. “You are in safe hands now.” ‘Mr. Smiths’ heart stopped. He took another look at the woman in front of him. “What did you say?” Ruby fell silent for a moment. “I said, that you are in safe hands now, Mr. Smith.” “No no no. You didn’t say Mr. Smith, you said Jack. I didn’t say anything to Alex about being called Jack so why did you say that?” Ruby’s voice grew hard. “Mr. Smith, I think you need to calm down.” ‘Mr. Smith’ stepped into the light toward Ruby, growing more agitated. “How did you know my name?! Who have you been talking to?! Who are you working for?!” Ruby did not respond. “Answer me, damn it!” ‘Mr. Smith’ grabbed Ruby by the arm and pulled her into the light. And then his jaw dropped. Where the woman’s head should be was instead a red sphere. The sound of mechanical inner workings that had been drowned by the traffic outside were now easily heard. ‘Mr. Smith’ took a step back from the bizarre sight. “What…what are you?” The red sphere tilted, like a normal head trying to get a better look at something. “I’m Dr. Ruby Thursday, Mr. Russell. And I’m here to help you.” Jack Russell stumbled backward and tried to run for the door. A long, red tendril emerged from the red sphere and lashed itself around his ankles, dragging to the ground. Jack screamed and kicked but the tendril slowly started dragging him back toward Ruby Thursday. “Now, now, Mr. Russell,” Ruby’s voice intoned. “You are being very difficult. Please try breathing normally, in through the nose, out through the mouth. And I promise this process will be decidedly less painful.” Jack reached into his pocket, pulled out a stun gun and charged it. Then he jabbed it into the tendril. Instantly Ruby’s voice was replaced by screams of pain and screeching static. The tendril withdrew as Ruby fell to her knees holding her sphere. Jack then took off at run, and started going faster when he heard the sound of footsteps running down from the second floor of the warehouse. Two men in black suits and a third man in yellow hazmat gear hurried down the stairs with guns drawn. One open fired, and narrowly missed Jack as he bolted out the door. “You kssh Gah! Kssh Idiots!” Ruby screamed and spluttered as the man in the hazmat suit checked on her. “We kssh kssh damn it! Kssh kkkkk Need him ksssh kssssh skhkk! Damn! Kssshk Alive!” Jack hurried down the sidewalk, allowing himself to slow down slightly as he attempted to get lost in the bustle of activity in East Los Angeles. Car horns honked and music blared from open windows as he sidestepped chatting couples and tourists. He took another look behind him, and that’s when he saw the two men in suits running down the sidewalk towards him. Jack started running again, darting past a short, balding man in glasses and an overcoat pushing a shopping cart filled with trash. The man suddenly made a sharp turn with the cart right in front of Jack’s pursuers. They collided with the cart, sending it’s contents flying to the air and all over the sidewalk. “Watch where you’re going, old man!” one of the men snapped as he helped his compatriot to his feet. “So sorry, sirs. I’ll be sure to, sirs,” the short man said, but they had already gone off after Jack. The short man knelt down to pick up the mess, then closed his eyes. For a moment his face showed a flicker of pain. Then he opened his eyes and pulled back the sleeve on his coat to reveal a rather expensive looking watch. Pressing a button on the side of it, the short man spoke into it. “He’s on the move. He’s being pursued but he’ll lose them. He’ll be exiting the alley off of Verona in 40 seconds. Be ready.” A hoarse but cheerful voice answered back. “Don’t worry, Instagram. We’ll get him.” The short man sighed in annoyance. “Tick Tock, Digger. My name is Tick… oh, never mind. Just you and Needle see that you do get him.” Jack could hear the shouts of confusion as the two men in suits pushed people out of their way. He ran across the street, causing one car to slam on it’s brakes. He continued with breakneck speed past a large semi. When the two men followed suit, the semi started driving forward, blocking their path. The two men screamed at the driver, but their cries were drowned out by the honking of angry motorists. With the men now far behind him, Jack continued to run into an alley. He didn’t even bother looking behind him. All he was focusing on was the sunlight shining through the other end of the alley. Then his field of vision was completely obstructed by the blade of a shovel being slammed into his face. He fell on his back trying in vain to clear his vision. Standing above him, he could see the silhouettes of two figures, the larger of the two letting the shaft of the shovel rest on the back of his neck. “And…who are you supposed to be?” Jack asked deliriously. “Can’t you tell, my frightened friend?” the big man said. “We’re the Avengers. He’s Thor and I’m Iron Man.” Jack squinted at the silent figure, who appeared to be holding a long, needle-like blade. “Yeah…. Thor has a hammer.” “Meh, he only hammers in the morning,” the big man said. He chuckled at his own joke as Jake fought to stay conscious. “And… Tony Stark’s dead.” The big man stepped closer and leaned down to allow Jake a better look at his face. It was the face of a dead man. Green, rotting skin, his eyes milky white. Stitching could be seen in his skin underneath the tattered garment he wore. He grinned with a mouthful of crooked, rotten teeth. “What a coincidence. So am I!” The shorter figure stepped forward and knelt on top of Jack’s chest. Jack could see that this man was dressed head to toe in white; wearing a hood that concealed his entire face except for his right eye. Jack tried to squirm away as the man held his blade to Jack’s throat. “Please. I just gotta get out of…” Jack’s voice trailed off. In that moment, he could only look into the eye of the man above him. Nothing else existed or matter. There was only that long, unblinking, fearsome gaze. After a minute, Needle put his hand to Jack’s neck to check his pulse. Jack lay motionless on the ground, staring into space. “So? Is he still alive?” Digger asked. Needle looked up and nodded. “Terrific. You managed not to kill him this time. Good for you.” Needle rolled his visible eye and set about laying Jack’s arms across his chest when Tick Tock’s voice rang out from the watch on Digger’s wrist. “Digger! Digger! Did you get him?” Digger lifted the watch to lips and pressed a button. “Hold your horses, Myspace. Needle got him.” There was a pregnant pause. “Oh God. Is he dead?” Needle glared up at Digger as he smirked back at him. “Nah. The kid’s still breathing. Bring the van around. And let Dansen know that we got her captive audience ready for her.” When Jack Russell woke up, he found himself standing on a beach. He could still feel his head aching from being hit, but he couldn’t remember anything afterwards. But somehow that didn’t seem important anymore. He took a deep breath of fresh air, listened the sounds of waves breaking against the shore, and saw the sun just starting to set below the horizon. But that wasn’t all he saw. In the distance, making her way along the beach, was the most beautiful woman Jack had ever seen. Her long black hair cascaded down her shoulders, only obscured by the white sun hat she wore. The white sun dress she had on seemed to glow in the dying light of the sun, as she walked barefoot through the sand and surf. Jack stood dumbfounded at the sight of her, watching her take off her hat and throw it into the waves. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Jack didn’t know where the voice came from and didn’t care. “Yes,” he answered slowly. “Yes, she is.” “You would do anything for her, wouldn’t you?” the voice went on. “Just to have her know your name?” The woman knelt at the water’s edge, letting the water roll over her. “Yes, anything,” Jack murmured. “Well, she wants to know you, too. But she doesn’t want there to be any secrets between you. She wants you to be honest with her. Can you do that?” “Yes, yes, I can.” The woman turned to look at him, her hair falling in such a way that it covered her entire face except her right eye. “She wants to know the truth about you, Jack. She wants to see the side of you that you have hidden from everyone else. Can you show her, Jack?” Jack’s breath quickened. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. “I…I…don’t know. I…I….” In reality, Jack was not standing on a beach. He was in a hotel room zip tied by his wrists and ankles to the chair he was sitting in. A woman in white was in front of him, but she was in a white unitard with a black ribbon wrapped around her torso, mingling with her flowing silver hair. She swayed and contorted her body with lithe movements in front of Jack. Crouched on his right was a man dressed in raggedy clothes, while behind them Digger, Needle, and Tick Tock sat at a table. “Come on, Jack” Tatterdemalion whispered. “She wants to see your true self.” Jack started straining against the ties as his head rocked back and forth against his chest. “No. No, it’ll scare her away. It’ll hurt her.” Tatterdemalion put his hands on the arm of the chair and leaned in closer. “No, she won’t get hurt. Look at her. She isn’t afraid, Jack. Just let it out and then you and her can do whatever you like.” “No!” Jack shouted, causing Tatterdemalion to jump back. “No! It’ll kill her! It’ll kill her! Don’t let me kill her!” Tick Tock nervously looked up from the table. “Is there any chance we could speed this up?” Tatterdemalion knelt back down beside Jack as continued to pull at his restraints. “We have to be sure. We need to know that his powers are real. And we need to know that we can summon them without waiting for a full moon. It will take time.” He turned to look at Tick Tock with a sneer. “Or would you like to be the one who explains to the Shroud why his newest recruit is in a coma?” “He continues to fight me, Tatter,” said Dansen, the frustration in her voice belying the grace of her movements. “If he keeps resisting me he’s going to send himself into shock anyway. Either that or I will need to use a stronger dance.” “Oh! Oh! Why don’t you try flossing next?” chimed in Digger. Tatterdemalion glared back at him as Dansen continued dancing. “Not helping in the slightest, Digger.” Suddenly, Tick Tock rose from his seat with a start. He groaned and held his head in his hands. Tatterdemalion rushed over to him. “Tick Tock! What is it? What do you see?” Tick Tock looked up from his hands gasping for breath. “Men. Lots of angry men. With guns. They want the wolf. Only the wolf. No witnesses.” Dansen lifted her arms above her with a flourish then crossed them in front of her chest. “Very well. We are ending this now.” She raised her crossed arms as Tatterdemalion ran back to the chair. “No! Dansen, we don’t have to kill him!” “Shroud put me in charge this mission, Tatter,” Dansen snapped. “We cannot afford to have Mr. Russell tell these people anything about our activities. If we can’t make use of him, it’s better that no one does.” She raised her arms up again as Tatterdemalion leaned in to Jack and whispered urgently as he continued to groan incoherently. “Jack! Listen to me! The men who are after you, they are coming. They are coming for you and the girl. They are going to take you away and kill the girl. Save yourself! Save the girl, Jack! It’s your only chance! Let! It! Out!” “NOOOO! NOAAAHHROARRRRR!!” Jack’s screams began to morph into the sound of animalistic growling. The zip ties broke off him as his muscles expanded. Fur began to sprout in patches all over his body. His nose stretched into a snout and his teeth became fangs. The men that Tick Tock had foreseen finally reached the door of the hotel room. There were 20 of them, all in riot gear with automatic rifles at the ready. “Remember,” the leader said. “Orders are to eliminate hostiles, capture the subject. Only use lethal force if necessary. They want him alive. Breach on 3. 1. 2.” Before the man could reach 3, the door to the hotel room flew off it’s hinges and collided with the front line of men. Standing in the doorway in a torn pair of jeans, was the creature that was Jack Russell. The side of him he kept hidden was that of a werewolf. And it was now free. It howled at the ceiling as the mercenaries tried to regroup. “Open fire! Open fire!” But it was too late. The werewolf was upon them, slashing at one man unfortunate enough to get in striking distance of it’s claws. Tatterdemalion grabbed his hat and wrapped his scarf around his face. “Digger! Get Tick Tock out of here!” “I am the leader of this mission, Tatter!” Tatterdemalion glared at Dansen. “Alright, leader. What are your instructions?” Dansen fumed at Tatter before finally turning to Digger. “Digger, get Tick Tock out of danger. Needle? Tatter? With me.” Digger grabbed his shovel in one hand and Tick Tock by the other and charged out the door. “Sorry about the mess, fear fans,” he called to the armed men. “The housekeeping in this place is murder!” One gunmen tried to get a bead on the undead giant, only to have Tatterdemalion grab a hold of the gun. The man tried to fight back, until he cried out in pain and alarm. The place where Tatterdemalion had gripped the gun had started to glow red with heat. The mercenary dropped the gun to the floor, just in time to catch a flying kick from Dansen. Needle leapt into the fray with his long blade, slicing through armor and dispatching any who got in his way. Then the werewolf tackled him to the carpeted floor. “Dansen!” Tatterdemalion shouted. “Get Russell under control!” “I can’t!” Dansen yelled back. “He isn’t responding to me! The wolf has taken over completely!” Tatterdemalion charged ahead as Needle struggled to hold back the snapping jaws of the werewolf. Unwrapping one of his scarves, Tatterdemalion pulled it taught around the werewolf’s neck. The creature thrashed it’s head back and forth until it made Tatterdemalion lose his grip and collide into the hallway wall. Dansen tried to run to help, only to have her way blocked by more mercenaries. “Very well,” she said defiantly. “Who will be the first to feel the vengeance of Shiva? Have at you!” OK: The Night Shift: Tatterdemalion (Athletic, gloves secrete a substance that burns clothing and burns more solid objects) Dansen Macabre (Martial artist, creates hypnotic spells through dance that can cloud people’s minds, control them, or kill them) Digger (Undead, strength, durability, unbreakable shovel) Needle (Paralyzing stare, skilled fighter with ‘needle’ blade) Tick Tock (Can foresee events that take place a minute into the future) Werewolf by Night: Enhanced strength and durability. Mercenaries: 30 armed men with SWAT/riot gear. Whichever sides defeats the others and captures Werewolf by Night, wins. If Werewolf can elude capture, he wins. Game On!
  5. When the gods walked alongside Man, Shiva and his celestial brethren ruled over a time of enlightenment and tranquility. But as is the case of all times of peace, it was not to last. It came to pass that a race of demons known as the Raktabija broke free from their subterranean crypts and spread like a plague on the land, slaughtering all who stood before them. Humanity cried out to the gods for salvation, but the prophecies of the Raktabija proclaimed that only a woman could destroy them. And so the task fell to Parvati, wife of Shiva. Calling on the celestial power of her shakti, Parvati transcended into the form of the warrior goddess Durga. She came down from the heavens and attacked the horde of Raktabija head on. Countless demons fell to her blade. But from every drop of blood that was spilled, a new Raktabija grew to take it’s place. Durga was on the verge of being overwhelmed. And beneath the shroud of Durga, Parvati began to feel fear. She felt despair at the thought of failing to save her precious humanity. But then Parvati felt an emotion she hadn’t experienced in her existence: rage. Parvati became filled with anger. How dare these demons, little more than vermin, stand to oppose her, the bride of Shiva? Rising to her feet, Parvati summoned her power again, determined to ascend to a form mightier than Durga, more powerful than Shiva himself. The roar of the demons was overshadowed by her screams of pain as darkness enveloped her. And so it came to pass that on that day, demons, Men, and gods bore witness to the birth of Kali. Kali. A goddess born of darkness, bloodlust, and fury. A being that possessed Durga’s strength and cunning in battle, but none of Parvati's all too human weakness. The Raktabija charged to attack this new threat, but within an instant Kali was upon them. She slaughtered them all and drank their blood, ensuring that they would never be seen again on this Earth. Humanity thought the battle was over, but they were wrong. The day was not done, and Kali still hungered. With no more demons, she simply turned her aggression toward the humans. They begged for mercy but Kali continued her onslaught, determined to return to the heavens and bring down the gods themselves. Shiva saw that Kali had the power to accomplish her goal, but could not bring himself to do battle with the being that once was his beloved. He descended to Earth and fell prostrate before Kali, offering himself as a sacrifice so that humanity and the heavens would be spared. Kali raised her blade to strike the killing blow. But Kali was betrayed. For within Kali still were the spirits of Durga and Parvati, who forced the goddess back within Parvati’s soul, restoring her body and mind. While humanity rejoiced the victory of their gods, Parvati knew that none were safe as long as Kali lived within her. Calling on her fellow goddesses, Parvati used their combined shakti to remove the shadow of Kali from her spirit, convinced that without a life force to sustain her, Kali would eventually wither, fade, and die. But Kali did not die. She lived on off of her hatred and rage, swearing vengeance on the gods and the humans who worshiped them. But she was now a mere shadow, unable to fully establish herself on the mortal or celestial plane. But she still could give her blessing to humans so that they would create further bloodshed and chaos in her name. And that is why we worship Kali. For hers is the power that will bring down the world. Hers is the power that can make the gods fall down in reverence. The day of the ultimate transcendence draws near, when Kali shall return to us. And on that day, all gods and all Men, shall bow. “Tatter? Tatter! Where the hell are you?!” The woman’s voice broke Arnold Paffenroth’s concentration as he looked up from the scroll sitting on the podium in front of him. At that moment he was in the library of the Tower of Shadows. It was a circular room lined with shelves filled with dusty books and manuscripts. Arnold was a man with unkempt gray hair and dressed in a blue tunic and pants. He was in his early 50s, but he took great pride in the knowledge that he was in better physical condition than most men half his age. Still there was part of him that did enjoy the idea of being by himself and exploring the treasure trove of knowledge in the Tower of Shadow’s collection. “TATTER!” Arnold sighed. There was also a part of him that would have preferred to have his associates use his proper alias. He had long ago chosen the name Tatterdemalion as his nom de guerre, but after realizing his allies either couldn’t pronounce, remember, or care what his name was, he resigned himself to being referred to with the abbreviated term. The oak door to the library creak as it opened and woman’s head peeked in. She was an a attractive woman in her mid 20s with brown hair in two pony tails. She wore a black shirt, jeans, a brown trench coat, and an annoyed expression on her face. “Seriously, Tatter? I’ve been looking all over the Tower for you!” Arnold quickly started to roll up the scroll and reach for the cylinder he pulled it from. “My apologies, Moth. I was just catching up on some reading.” Sybil Dvorak, or Moth as she was known, raised an eyebrow as she noticed the scroll in Arnold’s hands. “You know Dansen doesn’t like people messing with her stuff.” “How odd, since we are supposedly a team now,” said Arnold as he re-sealed the cylinder and moved to the rack on the wall where other scrolls were stored. Five strings of thread sprang from Sybil’s shirt and stretched out to snatch the cylinder from Arnold. He glared at Sybil as the threads placed the cylinder in her waiting hand and re-knitted themselves back into her outfit. “Isn’t there some cliché about curiosity killing cats or something?” Arnold quickly crossed the room and yanked the cylinder from Sybil’s grip. “Yes. There certainly is,” he said trying to maintain his composure. “I’m surprised you are aware of it. Did you read about it on Twitter?” Sybil rolled her eyes as Arnold walked back to the rack. “No. I just figured you’d appreciate it. It’s like you. Creepy, annoying, and old.” Arnold bristled slightly, but before he could come up with a reply, Sybil was already heading for the door. “The point is, Dansen will probably kill both of us if you don’t get your wrinkled butt downstairs. Better move it. This will probably be our only chance to get this Russell guy.” Arnold watched Sybil as she disappeared through the doorway. He looked back at the rack, noting the location of the scroll he had been reading, then followed after her. Sybil had a habit of being rather brusque, but she did have a point. This was an important mission for their organization. “And besides,” Arnold said to himself as he grabbed his wide brimmed hat and wrapped his raggedy scarf over his face. “It’s not everyday you get to hunt a werewolf.” Marvel Studios, in association with Netflix and Broadway Beyonder Presents Night Shift Coming Soon November 2021
×
×
  • Create New...