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Resident Evil: The Naiveté Killings; ...something...slightly different...
Topic Started: Apr 1 2006, 03:53 PM (375 Views)
chantheman...
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The Dead Machinist
[Note: Long story...A once RP is now a...story...so...yeah.]

Sub-note: Feel free to say what a horrible job I'm doing...



~Ch.1~

Hmmm…How should I start this? I suppose all the popular fiction writers usually have “It was a sunny day” or “Once upon a time” as their first line, probably even start their stories with some dialogue to catch the reader off guard. Don’t get me wrong, though. I’m sure it’s a good tactic, and it IS a nice, sunny day out and all. I have no objections with adding that, but it doesn’t really tell us anything. What WILL tell anything about this story is the past of Raccoon City. I’m sure you’ve heard of the “accident” befalling the town just a few years ago. Yeah…I don’t believe that crap either, but either way you believe, it was destroyed just the same. See, I don’t know a whole lot about this. I just moved here, what…three months ago last…Tuesday, maybe? Anyway, after said accident, the few remaining survivors of Raccoon (yeah…RIGHT…) moved somewhere else and, along with some other people from other towns, banded together to build a site for a new city. Then they worked together, built the town, made new friends, threw a big ice cream party yadda yadda yadda…you get my drift. Anyway, this is the town I live in now. New Raccoon City. Nothin’ fancy, really. I think this version is bigger than the first one, though. A few new additions were made for New Raccoon, courtesy of the 21st century. But I wouldn’t know; I didn’t live in the first one. It’s what I hear from the rest of these holly-jolly people. Regardless, it still retains its small town charm. Though, looking at the super mall, you wouldn’t think so…


“Geeze…not even one freakin’ cup of coffee in this place? Some mall…” Spike Bennett took a seat by one of the few available tables in the crowded food court. He looked over at the espresso cart with scorn over the fact that they didn’t have his specialty cup, a cup of black coffee. It was even worse when they couldn’t even tell him where he could get one. “It’s a mall, for cryin’ out loud. There should at least be a directory to find a coffee vendor here. Then I could make my own and not have to waste my time here. Eh…” He looked around, studying the people in the food court. A old couple ordering Chinese, the typical father/son/mother/daughter/baby combo family arguing with each other at the McDonalds, some teenage punks arguing to a smoothie dealer…there was nothing different about this court than all the rest that he had seen in his time. At 35 years of age, Spike had come to see quite a bit of malls in his life, and this one was not impressive, certainly not one that deserved be called a super mall. He doubted it could be called a “regular” mall, at that. Oh well, I guess great minds DON’T think alike, then.

Just as the thought passed, his ears caught the sound of a kid calling out. He looked to the direction of the sound, and re-confirmed his thoughts. Yup, a kid, though I doubt he’d let me call him that. Studying him, Spike could list down several key factors about him: He was 5’9”, around the age of fourteen, had blond hair, had preppy clothes…just the type of child Spike would rather eat glass than be stuck in a room with him. The child kept calling out to someone. Upon further investigation of the teen, he was carrying some piece of paper with him. Eh…he’s probably bothering his teacher to get a decent C…Little brat.

Throwing the connotation away, Spike’s cell phone vibrated. He looked down to see who was calling. Amanda - Mobile. Crap…I’m not here. If I just leave it… Within seconds, the phone stopped its movement, but then jolted one final time with the urgency of a message contained inside the phone. With a sigh, Spike got up. Since they didn’t have what he wanted, he would have to go somewhere else. Probably the Starbucks downtown. It would be a hassle with traffic and all, but it’d be worth it to get the coffee he so desired. Spike left the food court, exiting into the outside.

~~~


It was sunny outside. Not the type of weather one would expect in late December. Still, it’s nice. Spike passed by one of the many bell-ringers for the Salvation Army. That was one army Spike would support all his days. Fishing into his pocket, he scrounged up a few crumpled up dollars and put it in the ringer’s hand, and came the polite “Merry Christmas”. Spike looked for his car, also fishing for his keys. His mind was swimming with various details, there was no way he would pay attention to the same kid running into him, calling out for someone. Spike fell to the ground, the teen almost doing the same thing but managing to regain his balance. “Hey, watch it, you freak!”

The words didn’t surprise Spike; it was whose mouth they came out of. The typical response of himself, Spike was stunned that it came from the teenager. Stupid little… He got up and looked down at the kid who would face his wrath, and being 6’4”, it would be easy to impose it upon him. “Gee, I’m terribly sorry! I’m SO sorry that I wasn’t causing a ruckus and running around like a lost kid…much like YOU were doing just now.”

“I am NOT lost! A man dropped an envelope and I was trying to find him so I could give it back”

Spike remembered the paper he was holding and quickly thrust his hand to snatch the letter. He pulled it up just as the kid was pulling at him. “Give it back! HELP! HELP!! He’s stealing something from me!”

“What the…Get off me, you punk!”

Spike was looking at the envelope. It was strange because it had the words “Open me” written on it. What the hell…These were the only thoughts Spike had about the issue, then. Seconds later, a man came up to separate the two of them. Spike looked and saw the man to see who it was.

This was a man who had determination about him, and though he looked young, he certainly had experience behind his eyes. Spike could tell those kinds of things. By looking at his eyes, he could tell that the man might have a few tricks up his sleeves. Too bad the man didn’t have any sleeves; otherwise it would have made a good thought to share. Besides the eyes, he was just a couple inches shorter than Spike, had a short, blond haircut and seemed to be in his early to mid-twenties. His voice also added to the illusion of his youth, but it was his words that brought the experience back to mind. “Young man, is he troubling you?”

“Yeah! He’s trying to steal my envelope!”

Spike couldn’t believe his ears. That brat! He’s trying to make him look like the bad guy! “Whoa, whoa whoa! I don’t know who’s envelope it is, but it’s certainly not his!”

“Liar! He was trying to run off, but I grabbed him! There’s no WAY he’s going to take my stuff!”

“Who are you calling a…!”

The man came in between the both of them. “Settle down! Now, let’s see what’s inside that envelope. Sir, would you please hand me that?”

Well, he DID ask nicely. Spike gave the man the envelope. I’m probably being scammed for something. I just KNOW it…

The man opened the envelope and produced…fifty dollars, two pennies and a no…Holy! Fifty dollars! The man looked at the money, then back at Spike, not a good face on him. “Sir, how could you do this?!”

Spike looked back at the kid, his face just as surprised as the man’s and Spike’s. “What?! I didn’t know there was any money in there!”

“Right. Likely story. Sir, you’ll have to come with me.”

“OH NO! I am NOT going to be blamed for something I didn’t know about! In fact, I think you and that brat of yours are causing me trouble!”

“I beg your pardon?! You think I have something to do with this?!”

Spike and the man continued to argue over who would take the blame. Meanwhile, the kid had picked up the remaining contents of the envelope, a note. He looked at it strangely, trying to make sense out of it. “Tharsa…Bah…Mimba Skewer.”

Those words tore Spike from the argument at hand and he clutched at the note. “Look at that! He’s trying to make off with the…” At this point, he looked at those words, trying to make sense out of them.

The man took control of the situation, and he subdued Spike, like he was a criminal. The man then took out a pair of handcuffs and struggled to put them on Spike. The kid looked at the note again, and said it aloud again. “Tharsa Bah Mimba Skewer…Thars a…Bah…Bahmimba…Skewer…There’s a bahmimba…”

These words also tore Spike’s attention, and not only his but the cop as well. The man had been too busy trying to do his job that he didn’t hear everything the kid had said. But he heard the words that every cop dreads to hear. The man stopped the struggle and grabbed the note from the kid. “Tharsa…tharsa bah mimba…THERE’S A BOMB IN A SEWER!”

Spike was amazed. Not only of what had just been happening but that the man drew words from that gibberish. “What!”

This was it. The punk had it coming to him. Now he was going to get it. He was trying to get back an envelope…an envelope that said there was a bomb in a sewer. “…Th-That’s not mine!”

“Now who’s the liar! You just blamed me for stealing YOUR envelope!”

“But it’s, it’s not mine!”

The man grabbed the little brat by the shoulders. “Which sewer is it in?! Which one!”

“I don’t know anything about it!”

Spike looked around, and spotted a manhole cover, nearby where they were. “Hey! There’s a sewer right there!” He pointed to the manhole.

The man looked towards the manhole as well, then dragged the kid and Spike over there. With some assistance from Spike, he got the manhole open, exposing the darkness of the sewer to the sun. The man then looked at the younger man. “Tell me where it is.”

The kid was as stubborn as ever. “I TOLD you! I don’t know anything about this!”

“Right. You claim to own an envelope which also tells of a bomb. You’re coming with us.”

Spike snapped towards the man. “Whoa! Why am I going with you two?!”

The man was as calm as ever. “I need all the help I can get.”

Spike looked down at the sewer, then sighed. “…Fine. All right.”

With that, the three of them descended into the sewer. As Spike climbed down the sewer last, taking in all of the sun before darkness took him, he remembered where he had been just a few minutes ago.




…Man…I wish I had just stayed in the mall…
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"We have stepped off the cliff and are falling into madness..."
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The Dead Machinist
~Ch.2~

Great, here we go again. Good job, Spike. You’ve managed to screw up your life once again. Why couldn’t you have just stayed in the army like a good momma’s boy?! You wouldn’t even BE HERE, getting mixed up with whoever these goofs are. You’d be doing something worthwhile, like savin’ the country from God knows what, not wanderin’ down this stupid sewer searching for a bomb that doesn’t exist! Spike looked at the cop and teen, a small grin on his face to conceal his thoughts. “…Y’know…it doesn’t smell as bad as people make it in the movies.”

The cop chuckled to that statement. “Well, Hollywood tends to exaggerate things to a certain level.”

After the comment, the three continued into the sewer, going forward. Leon shone his pocket flashlight forward. Seeing as there was only one way to go, there was no need to ask the punk where the bomb would be. It was silent…until:

“Say, what’s your name “Officer?”

The cop looked back at Spike. “I’m not a cop…anymore. But yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier. I’m Leon. Leon Kennedy.”

“...Spike Bennett. What about the kid?”

Like an insult, the kid turns around to confront the two men. “I’m not a kid! I have a name, you know!”

Leon didn’t look too impressed with the defense. “Well, would you like to give it for the record?”

After a bit of hesitation, he gives his information. “…Jason! My name’s Jason!”

“Jason WHAT?”

“…Jason Powell…”

Spike read off Jason’s library card, still contained in the kid’s wallet, which Spike quietly lifted from him while he was busy being worked up. Jason first looked surprisingly towards Spike for correctly knowing his last name, but that look of surprise quickly turned to anger. He began beating on Spike’s arm. “Stop stealing my stuff! Give that back!”

“Huh. Last I recall, the only other thing I took from you was that envelope, which didn’t even belong to you in the first place!”

“I don’t care! Give it back!

With that statement, Jason kicked at Spike’s groin. He probably didn’t anticipate, though, that Spike would not only see it coming, but be so limber that he would just lift his right leg up, then tilt it so his heel was close to his left leg, blocking Jason’s leg from its target. Even the force of kick wasn’t impressive enough to push back Spike.

~~~

Now, this was a bad idea, for Spike’s thoughts had validity in them. He used to be in the army, during a time when the Persian Gulf was causing problems. He had left his hometown, carrying the dream of stopping the war single-handedly. Instead, he learned just how terrible war was. He learned of sleepless nights, being pinned by flying bullets, barely any food and water, dangerous wildlife…it was a culture shock when he came back. After serving for as long as he did, Spike didn’t want to return to the normal world. He wanted to go back to where he was trained to live in. His hometown…it would never look the same to him again. He yearned to go back on the field and never return to civilization.

…And yet I did…why the hell did I go back?

But he didn’t have to ask himself. He already knew why he wasn’t across seas, fighting terrorists in Iraq. It was because, at the end of the war, he returned to satisfy his family by showing them he was alive and considerate towards them. It was because he decided to let his friends know that he was still around so they could joke with him about whatever they screwed around with nowadays.

It was because of a woman named…Amanda Carlson.

If he hadn’t decided to go to Starbucks after his family visit, then he probably wouldn’t have met her, opening the door as she was coming out, spilling her coffee all over him. Then she probably wouldn’t have felt bad about it and tried to clean it for him and he probably wouldn’t have offered to pay for a replacement. It all…probably would not have started there.
But chances are…it probably would have happened eventually…

Yeah…it was bound to happen…that I’d have my mind served back to me in shreds…

Things heated up pretty soon after that. Conversations sparked, lives were compared, they even exchanged phone numbers that day, which surprised Spike because he thought he would never have gotten to know someone that well. Even as time passed, they found out something new about each other more or less each day. But that’s an exaggeration, for it could not have been humanly possible. Spike had grown attached to Amanda. He then began to imagine life without her, only to find emptiness accompanied by that thought.

And his desires to serve his country…were abandoned within due time.

~~~

Spike retracted his leg, staring down at Jason. “Listen PUNK, I can take that you’re a brat and you always get what you want, but get this: I only take SO MUCH. So if you don’t watch yourself, you might find this place to be your prison instead of...”

“Spike!”

By this time, Leon had put himself between man and teen. Then he turned to Jason, meeting him eye to eye. “Now…tell me where the bomb is.”

“I don’t know about any bomb!” Stubborn as ever.

Leon then stood up straight. “Jason, you had best tell me the truth, cause if there isn’t a bomb, your parents are going to hear not only from me, but also from the mall owners, city hall…the government...”

“Puh-LEASE! You don’t know the government!”

“Kid, you have no idea…” Leon continued on into the sewer, fighting back the darkness. Spike followed, making sure to stay behind Jason so that the kid was between him and Leon. That way, if he was to think about escape, he’d have at least one person hot on his trail. Who that person would be…well, he would be lucky if it was only Leon.

Within minutes, Jason made his presence evident. “I’m tired.”

Spike agreed with his statement. “And I’m tired of your complainin’.”

“Shut up!”

Leon looked back at both of them. “Will both of you shut up?”

Jason turned white. Leon looked at him with annoyed approval. “Thank you.”

Then Jason pointed his finger behind Leon. “LOOK OUT!”

“Right, like I’m going to fall for…”

Before he could finish the statement, Spike had grabbed Leon by the collar and pulled him towards the rest of the group…before Leon was clawed by the zombie that had appeared behind him.
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oh living dead, I am going to enjoy this.
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The Dead Machinist
~Ch.3~


“Holy…!” Leon barely had time to look at the zombie before he drew his Desert Eagle and injected two bullets into the zombie, one in the chest, the other in the neck. The force of the second bullet caused the zombie’s head to tear off the body, the rotted head flying a few feet away from the rest of the even more rotted body and landing in the water. Seconds later, the zombie joined its missing anatomy.

Spike and Jason looked down at the mass with shock in their eyes. They were about to scream the same question, if Leon hadn’t interrupted them with a “What! THEY’RE down here, too?!”

This time, Spike beat Jason with the response. “They?!”

Leon didn’t bother to look back towards Spike. He began scanning the darkness, trying to see anything move in the shadows. “…Zombies…They’re zombies. As to why they’re here, I can’t say.”

“Zombies! You’re kidding me, right?!”

Finally, Jason was able to regain control of his mouth. “Zombies?!”

Leon barked at Jason. “Yes! ZOMBIES!!”

Of course, this was too much for Spike. “OK, I get it. I get it. Ha ha, very funny. You’ve all had your laugh. Now where’s the camera?”

“Spike! This is not a game! Those are actual zombies!”

“Yeah RIGHT!” He began splashing around, waving in the darkness. “I’ll bet I’m on that stupid show ‘Scare Tactics’, aren’t I?!” His response was another two shots in his general direction, going past him as it hit the corpse hidden right next to Spike. The corpse then fell to the ground, ceasing movement. Spike shot a look at Leon. “HEY!! What the hell…!”

Leon screamed back at him. “You wanted to die then and there?!”

“How can I die on a frickin’ TV show!”

“How many times do I have to tell you…!”

“LEON!”

Jason pointed behind Leon, towards the pair of zombies staggering towards them. Leon whipped around, arm extending the pistol. “Geeze!” He then opened fire on the monstrocities. Spike grabbed Jason and pulled him back, keeping him as far away from Leon as he could, to protect him. A few seconds and bullets later, two splashes reverberated in the watery chamber. Leon looked back to Spike, then walked up to him. He stared at him, a look of forced control on his face. “Spike…This is not a show. This is not a game. This…” He holds the gun in front of him. “…THIS is real!” He pointed at the two pieces of rotted meat with the gun. “THOSE…are real! This whole thing…is REAL LIFE!”

Spike looked at him, then down at the dirty water, the zombies floating in the murk. “…Then…” He studied the things for a few seconds more, then began rubbing the bridge of his nose, one of his nervous tendencies. “…Dammit…”

Leon kept his eyes on Spike. “…My sentiments exactly.” With that, he turned around and continued to walk in the darkness.

Jason caught up to Leon. “Whoa, wait! We’re not going to actually stay in here, are we?! You said those things were real!”

“I know. Those things are in here, and they shouldn’t be. They shouldn’t even exist anymore, and I want to know why they still do.”

“Are you insane?! I’m not sticking around to get eaten!”

Jason turned around and stormed off in the direction of the entrance. As he passed Spike, still contemplating things, he suddenly feels something grab his shoulder. He looks back and sees that it is Spike’s hand. “…Kid…if those…THINGS…are in here, and they’re wandering around, the LAST thing to do is to go off by ourselves. We need to do the smart thing and STICK TO THE MAN WITH THE GUN.”

Jason opened his mouth to say something, but then actually thought about Spike’s words. He turns around. “…Yeah. You’re right.”

“Hey guys!”

Both of them look towards the darkness, realizing Leon has kept on going without them, if only for a few feet. They both run towards him.

When they caught up to him, they found Leon kneeling down, shining his flashlight at a section of the wall. He was studying a crudely made machine, which was making a beeping sound. Spike approached him, his eyes reflecting a nervous interest. “Is that…” Leon did not let his sight leave the machine. “Yes, and it looks unstable. These wires are not attached to the battery real well. This thing could blow if…” Spike interrupted him. “Ah, how about trying to disarm it instead of telling us how bad it is…?” Leon gave the flashlight to Jason. “Hold this here and don’t shine it away.” Then he began to disarm the bomb.

Jason held the flashlight with trembling hands, the light shaking from the bomb. A set of hands reached out and steadied his own hands, Spike stopping the distraction. “Let’s not complicate things further, Jas.”

“It’s Jason!”

“Whatever.” Spike looked to Leon. “Any updates?”

“Almost…almost…got it.” With that, Leon grabbed the bomb, and proceeded to strip the machine of the explosives attached. He pocketed the explosives and then tossed the useless piece of junk aside. He took a look at Jason, who was still shining the flashlight towards his direction. “Well, even though this was put together sloppily, I highly doubt you could have done this. So, you’re cleared of that suspicion.” He took the flashlight back.

Jason gave Leon a mean look. “Hey!”

Spike entered the fray. “Kid, I wouldn’t want to argue with that. He’s being merciful.” He looked behind him, then around him. “So, what’s the escape plan, Mr. Diffuser?”

While he said that, a beam of light shone down in the sewer. Leon had pushed open the manhole cover, making an exit from the sewer. “This would be it.” With that, he climbed up into the daylight. Jason ran as fast as he could towards the ladder Leon had used to ascend to the manhole. Spike looked up at the ray of sunshine. “…Yeah, I guess that would work…” With that, he also climbed up.

~~~

The sun was not a happy greeter. After wandering in darkness, the light stung Spike’s eyes. But it didn’t matter. They were finally out of that damn sewer. Ugh. Thank God…I’ve been spared. But this can’t be the end. No, not after what we saw down there. And that Leon guy seems to know what the hell is going on. Spike approached Leon, running the confrontational speech in his head. “Leon…what WERE those things down there, anyway? How did they become like that?”

Leon took a look back towards Spike, and then looked down. With a sigh, he focused his attention to Spike again. “They were…”

Suddenly, the payphone rang, three feet from where they were. The shrill ring caused Jason to jump up. Both Spike and Leon looked at the phone, then to each other. Leon was the first to speak. “Hmmm…I wonder…” Spike looked back to the phone. “…Well, then, let’s put an end to that wonder.”

Then Spike started walking towards the phone.
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hmmm... more undead.
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The Dead Machinist
~Ch.4~

Spike approached the payphone slowly. As he reached his hand out to pick it up, he could see the uneasiness causing his hand to shake. Come on, pull yourself together! You were…you’re STILL a soldier. There’s no reason for you to be scared over a phone call. A wrong number even! He finally planted his hand on the phone then slowly brought it up to his ear.

“…Hello?”

"Hello SPIKE…"

“What the…you know me?!”

"No, I doubt that…probably just a lucky guess."

“Huh…well, I guess you have the wrong number then…” Spike had almost hung up when the man’s voice came back on:

"I wouldn’t do that…it would be such a lonely game without you…"

The words coming from the payphone brought the uneasiness back in Spike’s hands and he put the receiver back to his ear. “Game?”

"I take it you got my present in the sewer?"

“That was you?!”

"Of course!"

“Why the hell did you do that?!”

"I needed players for this game, so I needed to have a test run in order to attract attention. That would be YOU."

“That was no game! People could have been killed!”

"Well, yes, that’s theoretically true…but they wouldn’t have been for long…"

“…What do you mean?”

"I have discovered a gas that can revive dead people! It revives them…and they live again! If you wanted proof, then you saw it in the sewer. I spread the gas in there and watched the people dead from long ago come back to life!"

“Those things in the sewer? They hardly looked alive. Their skin was falling off!”

"Nevertheless, they walk the earth, breathing the fresh air again! Sure, they might have a few nicks here and there, but it’s nothing a dab of wrinkle cream won’t cure. The world will soon know what I have done. They will soon know what I have discovered…and they will be tripping all over themselves to get the secret from me! But in order for ME to be discovered by the world, IT must be discovered first! That is why I must set off all the other…"

“There are more of these?!”

"Oh yes, there’s more…I don’t remember how many more. I lost count after the fifth one…"

“You filthy piece of…!” Spike’s breathing increased, his anger nearly smashing the receiver into the payphone, but he regained control over himself, took a second to regain his composure and then returned to the call. Then a thought struck his mind, crossing over to his eyes

“…Why are you even telling us this? If you want to get all the attention on yourself for this…thing you’ve discovered, then why do you insist on playing a game with us?”

"In all my years, I have learned of the struggle between good and evil. For every good intention, there must be an antagonist, waiting to destroy it…For every evil plot, there must be a protagonist, standing to oppose it…

…As I looked at the situation I have created, something came to mind:

I needed a villain!"


“…

…You’re pretty crazy, you know that?”

-CLICK-

The phone went dead. Spike looked down in horror at the killed receiver. What the hell did I just do?! I just doomed this entire city!

Suddenly, his ears caught a noise…a RINGING noise. He looked down the sidewalk and saw a phone booth…and the phone is ringing. Spike ran as fast as he could to the booth, then went in and answered it.

"I apologize for that…I forgot of the game…"

“…How do we find the bombs?”

"You mean how do we play the game? It’s very simple…I’ll say something, and you try to make sense out of it. If you’re wit goes out, then so does the bomb. However, if you prevail, then you shall receive your next clue."

“How do we contact you?”

"My dear Spike…that is the least of your concerns. The question is not if YOU can reach me…the question is if I can reach YOU. After all, if I can’t reach you…then your clue can’t reach you…"

“…Fine.”

"Very well then! The players are here, the rules have been given and now the playing field is before us. Therefore…

…LET THE GAME BEGIN!"


“Just out of curiosity, why do you want to do this? Why do you want to share this with the world? Why share a gas that has the power to bring back the dead?”

"…Ah yes! Despite all its shortcomings, why should I want to save the world?"

“…K, I guess you can call it that…”

"The world needs order…and I intend to give it that order…"

-CLICK-

Spike looked down at the receiver, and then put it back on its respective cradle. Leon looked at the phone with smugness on his face. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. That gas doesn’t bring people back to life…it KILLS people.”

Charlie looked up with excitement. “COOL!”

Leon looked down. “NOT cool…I’ve seen what it does. It’s far from anything you’d call “cool. It destroyed this city once.”

Spike took control of the group again. “It doesn’t matter what it’s done in the past…it doesn’t matter what that man doesn’t know…and it most certainly doesn’t matter if it’s cool. Those zombies wanted to kill us down there, in that sewer. And what would stop them from killing people who haven’t been affected?”

Leon looked back to Spike. “So I take it the only way to stop him is if we play his game.”

“That would seem the case.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

Spike looked back at the payphone, the herald of sorrow, the chariot of doom that had placed this burden on their shoulders. ”…The clue...”
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"We have stepped off the cliff and are falling into madness..."
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chantheman...
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The Dead Machinist
~Ch.5~


“Dammit…” Spike rubbed the bridge of his nose. “What the HELL is he doing?!”

Leon looked at the phone. “He’s playing the role of quizmaster, probably preparing the questions. And since he’s also playing the role of referee, that means no one’s going to object, otherwise.”

Spike slammed his fist on the payphone. Leon pulled Spike away from the phone. “Easy! We need that phone”

Spike gave Leon an angry look. “No, we don’t. He moved from one phone to the next, remember? He called us on two different phones. For all I care, we can torch this one!

“Spike! Calm down! Your shouting’s not going to make things easier!”

Spike kept his eyes on Leon. Oh, how he’d love to take him down, teach him who was more reasonable. Sure, Leon’s a cop, but their teaching doesn’t even come close to measuring up with the U.S. Army.

“…Fine.”

Spike pulled away, sitting down on a nearby bench. Ugh…why did I even have to leave that mall? Was it really for something so stupid and ordinary such as coffee? I swear, if we get out of this, I’m switching back to orange juice…Spike tried to breathe, doing some exercises that he’d heard about from Amanda’s stress therapy class.

Leon watched Spike as he tried to keep his cool. He then turned his attention to Jason, who was watching the entire ordeal. He looked down at Jason, trying to understand what was going through his head. Spike interrupted the silence with his thought on the situation. “At least the kid should go home…this is nothing he should be involved in.” Leon looked back to Spike. “Somehow, I don’t think that guy’s going to let him go. He’s identified him as a player. If Jason left the group, he’d think Jason was going to go warn the police or someone else, and I doubt he’d want that. He would most likely have a plan to...eh…incapacitate someone should they have that idea.” After hearing those words, Spike hung his head down and concentrated on breathing again, to take away the stress.

The payphone rang again. Spike rushed to answer it, expecting to hear the sinister voice that he heard only five minutes ago.

“…Uh…is Mandy there?”

Spike smashed the receiver on the payphone angrily and repeatedly. “DAMN YOU!!”

Leon immediately reached out and subdued Spike, trying to stop him from moving. Spike struggled against Leon, wanting to vent his rage more, but Leon would not let go. “Spike! Cool it!”

“The hell I will! That ass…”

“Spike, breathe!!”

The words didn’t register at first, but after struggling for a few more seconds, Spike began to breathe deeply again. Minutes later, Leon let Spike go. Spike resumed his seat on the bench.

Leon kept his eyes on Spike. “What the hell is your problem?”

Spike didn’t bother to look at Leon. He was trying to calm himself down. “…I just have a short temper…”

~~~

But it was more than just “a short temper”. It was pure, suppressed rage. Over the course of his 35 years on earth, Spike learned to be a patient man. He started out like all people do when they’re born: just learning. It’s hard to say how he obtained it, but he was always the quiet one of the family. While his five year old brother Louis would be screaming his head off, little Spike, only one year of age, would just watch his brother throw a tantrum and try to figure him out the best his young mind could at the time. Little changed as Spike entered the rest of his childhood. He retained his quiet nature, just watching people as they lived their lives. Even in high school, Spike was just as reserved as he had been in kindergarten. It wasn’t that everyone else didn’t talk to him. There were a few people who reached out to him, liked his quiet, listening nature. He was a little popular in high school and some of the girls would basically throw themselves at him. He just wanted to watch everything, as long as he wasn’t involved or doing something that would block his view. He had seen the loud, talkative girls and the burly, even louder guys, and he viewed them as people he would never want to be. Through their useless strengths, their weaknesses could be seen as plain as day. These weaknesses would agitate Spike. How could these people be so stupid? If they saw things from his eyes, they’d realize that what they have isn’t worth the pain that they ask for with their shallow minds. So he would just watch their weakness and save it as a way to check and balance himself.

Man…was I really like that? I don’t even remember being so quiet. What happened?

Though he knew full well what happened.

Amanda.

When he first met her, he saw her as one of those loud, talkative girls. Instantly, a red light went off in his head. But, because he had more or less caused the accident, he sought to fix the situation as quick as he could, and get out of her life just as quickly. But something stuck. When he thought back to her words, something tried to make itself known to him, a feeling that she was far different than all the other women he had met. Amanda talked about politics and the entertainment business, delving into the evils that lie within these factors. She talked about war. In fact, that’s where it started. When she put her view of war on the table, Spike finally came out of his quiet bubble and told her of his experiences, and he noticed something different about her. She listened. She listened very well, much like he could. Not only that, but she could take his words to a whole new level. He began to try and see from her point of view, and his opinion of Amanda changed. He saw her as someone different, and so did she. At the end of that day, she gave him her cell phone number, asking to give her a call after work, and that’s exactly what he did. Soon after, he began talking more. He even tried to give her a run for her money by who could talk the most. It was a major shift in personal beliefs. Here was a man who could go for hours without saying one word, now a seemingly regular man. Though, she never believed in normal. She never believed in defining normal. That was another thing Spike liked about her: how intuitive she could be.

And things seemed to be going so well…

…But like all relations, there has to be some level of miscommunication…somewhere…

~~~

A nearby ring shrilled in the air. A payphone across the street was ringing. This time, Leon was the one to sprint towards the phone. However, he never made it in time. A woman picked up the receiver and answered it. “Hello? Hel-LO?”

Leon quickly made it to her. “Sorry. That call’s for me. Thanks for answering, though.”

As he took the phone out of her hands, he could hear the mumbled ‘Get a cell phone’ escape from the woman’s lips as she walked away. Throwing the thought away, he answered the phone as she had done. “Hello?”

“Ah…who is this?”

“Leon. Leon Kennedy”

“Ah yes, the second player…My apologies, I still can’t put the voice with the man.”

This sent shivers down Leon’s back. Could he REALLY know what they looked like? Were they stalked for the past few days, like some sort of controlled experiment? “Do I get to know your name?”

“Ah-ah…not yet. First, we begin the game.”

“…Fine.”

“Ready?

‘A place to wake up and a place to bore yourself to sleep, A place to live and a place to die away…’

Where am I?”


-CLICK-

Leon puts the receiver back. “A place to wake up and a place to bore yourself to sleep…”

Jason also spoke. “…a place to live and a place to die…”

Spike finished the last part of the riddle. “…Where am…I?”



~~~

((Note: this was written today...as in 'all of this chapter'...so that's why it's crappy...))
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"We have stepped off the cliff and are falling into madness..."
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samus_007
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White Pikmin
Hmmm, it sounds like a hospital or a home.
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