Hidden camera changing room videos

Butter a 12 X 4 1/2 X 2 1/2-inch loaf tin and pour in the batter. Bake in a preheated 350 degree F oven 1 hour, or until knife inserted in the center comes out clean." --- Beard on Bread , James Beard [Alfred A. Knopf:New York] 1975 (p. 170) Praise for Someone We Know: “Poised and chilling.” —Wall Street Journal “Clever.” —USA Today “No-one does suburban paranoia like Shari Lapena—this slowly unfurling nightmare will have you biting your nails until the end.” —Ruth Ware, #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Woman in Cabin 10 “Slyly plotted . . . Aṅgulimāla (Pāli language; lit. 'finger necklace') is an important figure in Buddhism, particularly within the Theravāda tradition. Depicted as a ruthless brigand who completely transforms after a conversion to Buddhism, he is seen as the example par excellence of the redemptive power of the Buddha's teaching and the Buddha's skill as a teacher. . Aṅgulimāla is seen by Buddhists as the ... My mother pulled the cock from her mouth and kissed Catherine hard, then Catherine sucked her son's cock into her mouth for a while, before offering it back to my Mother again. All this time I was rubbing my fat cock on the bitch's pussy. then, when she again had her son's cock in her mouth I pushed my cock into her soaking hot snatch. One for my son's 3/4 size guitar, and one for my full size. ... I just started playing the guitar & my fingers are killing me, I haven’t hardened my guitar playing fingers yet so thought this aparatus was going to be the answer to my prayers, it feels good when I have it in & holding my guitar but the notes totally don’t sound like my ... Richard turned me around and pinned my arms behind me. He pulled me close to him so that my palms rested on his bulging crotch. Instinctively I grabbed it and it felt like a hammer. His hands immediately reached out to grab my breasts. I gave a little whimper as his fingers fondled me through the weak fabric of my blouse.

2020.10.28 12:44 granthinton Room videos hidden changing camera

Part one.
I gave up after another search of the scene. There was no letter. Not like the first time. I watched them carry Laura away thinking about her poor children. The murderer had broken another family.
But why?
Was I missing something? Did the person responsible only want to kidnap my son? Was Waters’s death a distraction to achieving that? But why take a heart from a heart op female?
I couldn’t get my head around those facts as the car sped down the road. The roads were a blur until we pulled into my cul-de-sac. 2am and the bedroom light was still on. Not a good sign. That meant Julie was at the bottle again. Sure enough as I step through the door a triad of abuse sailed from the staircase.
“IT'S YOUR FAULT, YOU BASTARD!
Fending off her blows, which wasn’t easy, I made my way to the kitchen. Julie followed close behind still shouting obscenities. I tried fighting off the feeling of hatred to the women that once held my heart, but it was so damn hard. It’s like she been taken over by this banshee. Julie’s transformation from grieving mother to broken drunk was almost complete. Almost, because I didn’t want to truly believe it.
She rattles around me in half her bedclothes. It’s like she attempted to get changed but got too drunk by the time she needed to put on her bottoms.
“It’s yyyyour fault. Youuu and that bloodyyy job. If youuu weren't a cop, Xander would still be here!”
“Go put some clothes on,” I shout back, working around her hanging my coat and stalking to the kitchen. I’m dying for a cup of tea and some peace and quiet. But Julie’s screams stop that.
“You fucking prick!” She beat at my chest. I lose control. The back of my hand stops her short. I’ve never slapped her before. I feel my rage turn to shame. Looking into her teary eyes and it reminds me of the women beneath the alcohol.
I fucked up, again.
She runs from the room.
I listen to the stomping of stairs, the slam of a door and the squeak of the bed springs. My head falls to my chest, and shame follows me to my office.
For some reason, after Xander was kidnapped from school, Julie wanted CCTV installed into the house. I don’t know why? All that was left in the house was worthless with Xander. The obsession over the cameras took up a week of her life until the bottle replaced it. Now it was just another thing that was forgotten about. A bit like me.
At my work chair I shuffle around tidying things that didn’t need tidying. I’ve felt this way since my golden handshake. I’m not needed anymore but so full of rage that I can’t sit still. This house, this office reminds me of my past and I don’t like it.
Certificates hang on the walls, a medal in a glass frame that I got from rescuing some kid from his suicidal father sits in a glass case at the back of a shelf. My life had meaning once. Once I did good and helped others. Now, I couldn’t even help my own family. The depression sinks back in. The tea, hot and sweet, just how I like it, is a small comfort in times like this.
I don’t know why I checked the cameras but when I do I notice a blip on the day line. The cameras recorded something around 10pm tonight. The video fires up when I click it and I nearly drop my tea cup when it plays. I press my face closer to the monitor, my throat frozen. I fight back the tears. There is no mistaking the boy on the recording. Xander was at our front door not too long ago.
For some stupid reason I ran to the door and fling it open. But he isn’t there. Just as quickly I run back and watch it again. Xander, his hand covered in a bandage, slips a letter under the door and then stops. His eyes are red from crying, and he has a tightness in his shoulder only fear can give.
My boy is scared, and I think I know why. Xander looks behind him. He fights some invisible fight, torn between the comfort of his home and the person controlling him. When his hand raises to knock on the door, his head flicks around as if someone calls him. The next second he’s gone.
I fold up like an old seaside deckchair. My mind shut down and emotions take over. My tears are hot, wet and never ending.
Why didn’t he knock? Julie would have saved him and we could have all been back together again.
Minutes turn by as I sit on the floor of my office in a crumbled mess. The computer hums, sounds of the night invade the room and I sit like an old, washed up fool. Suddenly two things dawn on me at once. One, my baby boy is alive, and two, he slipped something under the door.
For the second time, I ran to the door. I hadn’t seen it when I came in because of Julie’s assault. I pull the yellow letter out from under the front door mat with a shaking hand.
It’s the same paper as before. Crinkled, yellow and smelling of mould. I opened it and read:

Dear detective,
It's strange that I haven’t seen you, so I sent your beloved. If you’re wondering, there is another of his fingers waiting on your step. Never underestimate that I will continue to chop him up.
If you want to avenge him you have to find me. But how can you do that, when yourselves can’t find the bodies? The two you’ve missed add to my collection nicely. But, I will help you find them. I’m not careless, I can’t have you leave them in their artistic poses.
That is your first clue, Detective. Do with it what you may. Xander is such a good boy. He is helping me to ready my artistic work. But it won’t be complete until you are here.
The body the detective found wasn’t really for him. He may have earned my wrath. We will see if he gets in the way again. He can’t help of course, that’s against the rules.
Now, a clue to the other bodies.
With God you can unload, where no souls tread. My letter can break codes, but for now, dread.
*He shines in darkness, she in the light.
Find one at it’s centre and one at your height.*
I hope that helps. I’ve always found written words hold more power for me. These letters will also help drive your vengeance. Oh, how I want you angry, John. All I want you to feel is lt. I want it to drive you to know the pain like it’s mine. To feel it in every breath like I do, Detective. It dominates me.
I do hope you find the bodies before anyone else. It’s only fitting. I will be immensely cross if that doesn’t happen. If it does happen, well, I’ll repay whoever is so stupid. Even that detective.
My collection is getting big. Xander says it’s scary, but I think it’s perfection. Only one more part left, John. The last one is a big one. I’ll just have to pray to the Lord.
N.
The letter crumbles in my hand. I know where one of the bodies is. The abandoned church near Xander’s school. It seems fitting, it’s near enough to be insulting to both me and Xander, and depraved enough for the sick bastard as well.
The religious words in both letters make me believe he’s somehow warped by his faith, but in my experience most of these types of cases are with the aid of religious influences.
A religious nut, that’s all I need.
I reach for my phone and dial Rowland.
The letter told me where I could also find the body within the church. At the centre of all Churches is the cross. My hunch is, all I need to find is the biggest one and I’ll find the body. What I don’t get is the part of the letter about my height.
Rowland answers on the third ring.
“What’s up?” His voice cracks with the drone of the road, that means he isn't home yet.
Jackpot.
“I’ve got something. Meet me at the old church on Taymount rise,” I don’t wait to hear his reply. I’m already getting my car keys off the hook and opening the door.
I may have moved out of the Forest Hill area when I was twelve, but it will always be a part of my childhood. My mother worked two of the pubs in the town and a restaurant in the mornings. I knew the pace like the back of my hand. And I knew the Church too.
The thing was old, like two hundred years or something. Tall, imposing. Made of mortared stones in the old fashion. Strong and unbreakable. Like their faith some will say. I don’t know about that. I don’t have any faith left.
In the darkness it looked as foreboding as a monster’s castle. Thankfully, I didn’t give a shit about monsters and the moon gives off another light to see by. But the torches help where it won’t. The street lights were never good even when I lived here.
Rowland opens the heavy oak door with barely a sound. The interior is shrouded in darkness and smells as hollow as it looks. With the aid of a torch, rubbish and the scattering of once used furniture comes into view. At one point in time squatters had ransacked the place.
We don’t have to look hard to find him. My hunch was right, the cross is the centre of the Church and he’s strapped to it. The man is around twenty years old, his hair was probably blond once but it’s so encrusted with dirt and mud it’s almost black. I can also see he taken two body parts this time. The man’s right leg and left arm. Whatever this fucking weirdo is doing with the parts is anyone’s guess. But I’m guessing it’s not good.
“He must have fought him pretty badly,” Rowland flashes the torch on the scratches up his neck and face. I pick off the woven crown of twigs and cast it at the wall angrily.
“We better call this one in,” I let the torch fall on Rowlands chest so I don’t blind him.
“We?” I hear the irony in his voice. “I better ring this one in, you better leave. If Monroe turns up and you’re here, he’s gonna have a fucking field day.”
He isn’t wrong.
While Rowland works the perimeter I do a quick search of the body and find another finger. It’s a pinky, and it doesn’t belong to the man.
“That three,” I say, holding it up for Rowland to see. Then I place it in the metal box that holds the others fingers. It fits snugly in my inside pocket much to Rowland’s horror. His disgusted face pisses me off.
“They’re my sons.” I say, barely hiding the strained tension in my voice. Rowland says nothing in return, but instead turns away.
He dials his phone and moves off. It’s the chance I’ve been waiting for. Throughout the whole investigation I’ve hidden the fact that there are letters. I know full well if I tell Monroe or Rowland about them, I won’t see them again. It’s sick to say it, but the letters are like life lines to my son. In some weird way I can’t be apart from them. It’s like they still connect me to Xander.
The letter I find slips into my pocket next to the fingers. I glance up quickly. Rowland’s back is turned. I turn and make my way out the door with the feeling like a ghost is about to jump out on me. A few seconds later and Rowland joins me.
“Ok, Monroe will probably be here first light, but forensics are on the way, that gives you a chance to get out of here,” he pats me on the shoulder.
I forget how long we’ve worked together. I was already a veteran when he got partnered with me. A Middle aged fool. Like him, my old partner’s partner was pensioned off when I joined the force. The lucky bastard had a full eleven years of my sorry old ass riding next to his.
“Thanks, Leon. I appreciate it.”
He nods and waves me away. “You just get some rest. If anything else comes up I’ll let you know.”
As I pop the car door and go to get in, Rowland calls out.
“I forgot to ask, how did you know where to find this body?”
I didn’t think this far ahead.
“Good old police work,” I hope he can’t see through my lie. “And a lucky hunch,” I smile trying to calm my nerves. Lucky, Rowland’s cheeks rise and a non-committed chuckle falls out of his mouth as he turns back to his phone.
I swallow the growing dread inside. I really want to open the latter and see if this one gives any clue to where my son is being held, but I can’t risk it.
Not here.
Not now.
submitted by granthinton to nosleep [link] [comments]


2020.10.28 08:23 ChurchBrimmer Hidden camera changing room videos

All New All Different All Betterer Deadpool and Wolverine #4
The Beginning of The End Part I
By: ChurchBrimmer
    /     /     /
    “The Horsemen are here!” a man yelled as he fired a plasma rifle out of a window. “You gotta go, Grey. We’ll hold them off.”
“If I go the team doesn’t stand a chance!” Grey, a burly, barrel chested man in a blue uniform with pouches everywhere replied.
“If you succeed it doesn’t matter, none of this’ll ever happen.”
    Grey did not reply. He knew his squadmate was right, this was the last piece needed to finish the time machine and they had to raid an enemy stronghold to get it. Casualties were high but it was considered worth it for this Hail Mary.
    Grey made his way outside where he had a clear view of the battle raging. It was the largest the Resistance had fought since 2030, and it was going about as well. Four mutants landed in the fray, causing shockwaves and throwing soldiers on both sides back. The Four Horsemen, the most dangerous leaders. An armored vehicle drove past firing a plasma cannon. Grey grabbed onto the vehicle with his mechanical arm and swung on top. He yanked the soldier on the cannon off and tossed him away, then dropped into the vehicle. Two more genetically engineered soldiers were dispatched and Grey had control of the vehicle.
    Grey’s comms crackled as he cut through the battle in his liberated vehicle, “Medicine Man to Cable. Medicine Man to Cable. What is your status?”
“Cable here, I’m on the way to the rendezvous.” Grey replied and put up a telekinetic barrier around the armored vehicle to give an extra layer of protection. He drove for some time after escaping the battle before abandoning the vehicle, he could not risk it being tracked. Cable made his way across the desert of what used to be the American South West, eventually making it to the hidden entrance to the bunker where the time machine was being built. As he approached the entrance a screen near the door came to life with the visage of an elderly Cheyenne man.
    “Password?” Asked the voice of Medicine Man, the man once known as Forge. He was much older than he looked, and had kept himself alive for centuries with a combination of magic and technology.
“Westchester.” Cable replied and the door opened.
    Just inside was a man older and Forge who had been kept alive for centuries by a healing factor, a man known to Cable and most of the Resistance as Wolverine. His face had lines from multiple centuries’ worth of war, and his hair was largely white and grey. Though on the sides where it came to two points there were flecks of the black it once was. He sniffed cable a few times then retracted his adamantium claws, a few of which had somehow been broken. A story he had never been willing to tell. He wiped the blood from his knuckles on his once yellow bloodstained shirt with black stripes.
    “Were you followed?” Wolverine asked.
“If I was, they would have some serious psi-blockers.” Cable answered as he pushed past Wolverine into the bunker.
    Inside he found their machine, and its creator. Seeing Forge was always a bit of a shock for Cable, like looking at what he could become: a man who was by this point little more than a head and organs inside a bulky mechanical body. He flexed the fingers on his own robotic arm subconsciously, pulled the part out of one of his many pouches, and handed it to Forge.
    Forge took the piece and installed it. He moved to a console and pressed several buttons. The machine powered up and the two metal pillars on either side of the metal pad began to glow. Lightning arcked between the two pillars and Forge began programming the machine. As he did Wolverine approached with a plasma gun, that was similar to the one Cable already carried but in the form of a pistol rather than a large rifle.
    “Forge whipped this up while you were gone,” Wolverine said and handed the weapon over.
“What’s wrong with the one I have?” Cable asked.
“This one is designed to nullify a healing factor, it could put me down in my prime.” Wolverine answered.
“But,” Forge began, not looking up from his console. His voice promised a dire warning. “It only has one shot. You wouldn’t believe how much energy and magic it takes to nullify a healing factor like Logan’s. It also only stops the healing in the place it hits, so it has to be a kill shot.”
“Aim for the head, got it.” Cable said and removed a different plasma pistol from its holster and replaced it with the new weapon.
    After a few more keystrokes the lightning between the pillars turned into what looked like a glowing flickering window into the past. Currently it was showing a desolate highway in the forest. Cable checked over his supplies one more time.
    “It’s ready, are you sure you want to be the one to do this?” Forge asked, “You know it’s a one way trip.”
“I don’t have much choice. If half the stories you old men have told me since you found me are true then both of you together couldn’t fight Wolverine back then.” Cable replied somberly.
“Kid’s right Forge, he has to do it. He has to kill my daughter and stop Apocalypse’s rise.”
    /     /     /
    Laura made her way through the forest towards some bright lights. She had been running for days, before that she had spent a year preparing to escape the lab and training facility she had grown up in. The scientist who was the closest thing she had to a mother had helped, she told Laura of a school for children like her and said they had to leave now. She died clutching the documents Laura now held. Files on her, and her creation labeled ‘X-23.’ They also held the identity of who the scientist said was her ‘father,’ a man named James Howlett, the Wolverine, and he was at this school.
    The forest opened up into the blinding lights of a truck stop. Near the edge of the forest a driver stood smoking a cigarette. Laura approached cautiously, using her training to act like a scared thirteen year old girl rather than the killer she had been trained as.
    “Please sir, can I get a ride? I’m lost and scared.” Laura asked with a sniffle, wiping away a tear with her free hand.
“That depends little girl, where are you headed?” The man asked after taking a long drag on his cigarette. Laura could feel him leering at her. She was still in the tight dark grey shorts and sports bra that was the normal uniform for subjects at the facility. She knew what the man was going to ask for, the disgusting acts he wanted. She had seen the look from several guards at the facility, heard the elevated heart rate, and smelled the pheromones.
“I need to get to New York.” Laura replied, not dropping the innocent act.
“That’s quite a ways to go,” the trucker said with a lascivious grin and flicked away the cigarette. He moved uncomfortably close and placed a hand on the trailer, towering over Laura. “What can you do for me?”
    The driver reached out with a greasy hand to place it on her cheek. Laura openly cringed and pulled away from his touch. He lifted his hand to slap her as he shouted something about her being a tease. Laura’s instincts honed by training took hold and she ducked away from the slap, shifting the folder to her left hand as she moved behind the driver as fluidly as a dancer changing places with their partner. Two adamantium coated claws popped from her right hand with a ‘snikt.’
    “You’re one of them filthy muties!” The driver shouted as he pointed an accusatory finger at Laura. He rushed her, fist raised to strike, clearly planning to use his much larger size against her. Again she slipped behind him and followed up with a kick to the back of his knee. The man screamed in shock, pain, and horror as a claw matching the ones on her hands burst through his kneecap. He fell to his knees and his agony was cut short as her claws pierced the back of his head. Like turning off a light the man was gone, Laura retracted her claws and the body flopped to the ground. She dug in his pockets and grabbed his cash and keys. She had never done well on the big trucks in the driving simulator being too short to reach the pedals and see over the wheel, but a vehicle was a vehicle.
    /     /     /
    “Known mutants; Samuel Guthrie; Alias: Cannonball, Clairice Ferguson; Alias: Blink, Ellie Phiminster; Alias: Negasonic Teenage Warhead, Jubilation Lee; Alias: Jubilee, and Quentin Quire; Alias: Kid Omega, you will stand down immediately or face lethal force.” The robotic voices of three Sentinels thundered simultaneously as they landed among the debris of their destroyed compatriots.
“I don’t see that happening tin-cans!” Jubilee shouted in reply as she unleashed a blast of multi-colored pyrotechnics into the face of a Sentinel.
“Optical sensor overload.” The monotone voice of the Sentinel boomed. It did not have an opportunity to recover before Cannonball followed up rocketing at the head of the robot, flames engulfing the lower half of his body. At near sonic speeds Sam collided with the metal monstrosity with a loud ‘clang.’ The Sentinel toppled backwards into a pile of debris.
    The second Sentinel raised its palm to fire an energy blast at Jubilee as she attacked the first. Before the blast could singe Jubilee’s yellow trench coat a purple portal opened up and the blast passed into it and exited a second portal into the head of the fallen Sentinel. Negasonic stepped up to finish off the second Sentinel. The air around her seemed to ignite into flame. A few blasts in quick succession drew its attention onto her. A sustained blast of flame focused on the center of the machine’s chest. The flame went from orange, to blue, to white. The purple paint on the Sentinel cracked and bubbled before sloughing off, exposing the titanium beneath. As the titanium started to warp and glow the missiles inside the chest detonated. What was left of the automaton collapsed to the ground.
    “Your boyfriend is about to be an asshole again.” Ellie said to Jubilee as the flames around her dissipated.
“What? Quentin isn’t my boyfriend. We just like, hang out and stuff.” Jubilation answered, cheeks growing red.
“Yeah, that’s called dating Jubilee.” Negasonic said with an attitude and eyeroll.
    As the two girls debated Jubilee’s relationship status the final Sentinel unleashed metal coils from its fingers in an attempt to grab the team. Before anyone was in danger the Sentinel stopped moving, the sound of straining robotic joints filled the air.
    “Not even breaking a sweat. Why do I even have teammates if I can handle these supposed ‘mutant killing machines’ solo?” Quentin Quire asked with an arrogant laugh. The triangular piece in the center of the robot’s chest peeled away revealing a battery of missiles.
“Error, missiles deploying without proper authorization.” The Sentinel stated as the missiles fired in all directions. Most were redirected by Kid Omega back into the machine, destroying it. Several, however, escaped his telekinetic grasp. Many fired off harmlessly, except one. Had Cannonball not been actively using his powers the missile that hit him mid-air would have killed him. As it was he merely found himself knocked to ground, bruised but no worse for the wear.
    “Damn it Quire!” Cannonball exclaimed in his thick southern accent as he pushed himself to his feet. “That coulda killed me, Danger Room: pause simulation. Authorization: Generation X field leader.”
“Override accepted. Pausing simulation.” A computerized voice boomed throughout the Danger Room and several incoming Sentinels froze in mid-air, as did the ash and dust in the air. Sam Marched over to Quentin, arms crossed. Kid Omega gave a dismissive wave and rolled his eyes.
    “You look fine to me, maybe you should keep a better eye on your surroundings.” Quire retorted . “An’ maybe you shouldn’t be such a show off!”
“Careful Guthrie, your jealousy is showing. No need to be, we can’t all be the most powerful mutant in any room.” Quentin said with an antagonistic grin.
    /     /     /
    Meanwhile in the Danger Room’s control room Wolverine and Deadpool watched Cannon Ball and Kid Omega argue.
    “Should we stop this before they start trading punches?” Deadpool asked.
“Nope.” Logan replied with a low growl as he reached out and pressed a series of buttons on the console.
“What was that?” Deadpool asked, motioning to the console.
“Power dampener. Kurt managed to grab one of Trask’s mutant control collars off a cop and I had Forge stick it in the Danger Room.” Logan answered with a sly smile.
“But… why?” Deadpool followed, now more confused than ever.
“Overall it’s good to train without our powers. In the here and now? Quire could stand to be taken down a notch and without their powers Guthrie can kick his ass.”
“I take it the young Mr. Quire is causing trouble again?” Beast asked as he entered the control room.
“When is he not?” Logan replied with a growl.
“Well it looks like I’ll be in for a challenge today. The Professor needs you and Deadpool in his office, he asked me to take over the remainder of your session.” Beast said. Logan nodded and then spoke over the loudspeakers into the Danger Room.
“Break it up you two, you can measure dicks later. For now Professor McCoy is going to take over and teach you physics or something.” Logan said and then wished Beast luck before leaving the room with Deadpool in tow.
    It did not take the two long to reach Professor Xavier’s office. As always Charles was seated behind his desk, his hover chair sliding under it like a glove. He looked up from his work and motioned to the chairs across from him. He pressed a button on the arm of his chair and a panel on the wall slid aside to reveal a screen.
    “Logan, Wade, welcome. I wish this were a usual checkup on Generation X’s progress. Unfortunately it’s a situation far more dire. This footage is from a security camera at a truck stop in West Virginia last night. I’ve had Forge enhance the video, otherwise it is unaltered.” The Professor said in a somber tone. He pressed a button and the video started. It showed a young girl with black hair in a set of grey shorts and a sports bra. She spoke to a truck driver for a few moments before he attempted to attack her. Within a few seconds she had killed him with unusual weapons: A set of adamantium claws.
    Xavier was unfazed, he had already seen the video. Instead he sat with his fingers steepled in front of his face, observing Logan’s reaction. Wolverine sat motionless and silent for the runtime of the video and for a moment after. Of course Deadpool was the first to break the silence. “Oh Logan has a baby ma-” He said before being cut off by two claws on either side of his head, the third was still hidden but the threat was clear..
“Finish that sentence and I pop the last one.” Wolverine growled.
“It won’t do anything but rip my mask.” Deadpool replied in a know-it-all tone.
“It’ll shut you up for a minute and that’s good enough.” Logan replied, his voice still a low growl.
“Logan please, that is not necessary. Wade is only using humor to deflect from the severity of the situation.” Xavier said, maybe a bit condescendingly. Logan sheathed his claws and stood. He pulled on his yellow and black mask as he headed for the door.
“Take Generation X with you, this should be a good learning experience.” Xavier said right before Logan could storm out.
“Fine. Wade, get them ready to roll. Blackbird is going to be wheels up in an hour.”
submitted by ChurchBrimmer to MarvelsNCU [link] [comments]


2020.10.27 12:31 _Dr3wS_ Semi-Theory / Discussion

THIS IS FNAF, BTW!
Okay. So, first of all, what happened to fnaf? "Princess Quest"? Really? Alright, onto the real topic. (Also go check out the lore reveals of the princess quest minigame!) So, if you have watched MatPat's latest theories, you will know that these new fazbear frights' books have confirmed a lot for us. I was pretty happy with most of them, but there were two that were a little harder for me to believe: The Step Closer Theory that revealed who Mike is, and the Multiple Golden Freddy Spirits. Now, they are both really good theories, but there are some things that intertwine with those theories.
First off, the Mike/Foxybro connection is pretty solid, and the only piece of evidence I have for that still works with the fact that he is Foxybro, so that theory is just more of one that I was sad to hear about because I just loved the Mike/CC Theory. But this is mostly gonna be about The Golden Freddy Theory.
Let me first call your attention, to Scott's post talking about the release of Fnaf 4's Halloween update. In the post, he mentions this: "You know, when I released the first game over a year ago, I was amazed at how quickly everyone found every bit of lore and story. Then the same happened with part 2, fans and YouTubers dug in and found everything. Game Theory did an incredible video on part 2; getting almost everything right. Then part 3 came out, and once again the story was uncovered by the community. It seemed that there was nothing I could hide!"
But then he goes on to say this: "But then I released part 4, and somehow.... no one, not a single person, found the pieces. The story remains completely hidden. I guess most people assumed that I filled the game with random easter eggs this time. I didn't. What's in the box? It's the pieces put together. But the bigger question is- would the community accept it that way? The fact that the pieces have remained elusive this time strikes me as incredible, and special, a fitting conclusion in some ways, and because of that, I've decided that maybe some things are best left forgotten, forever."
What? Keep in mind this is after we theorized who the Crying Child was. Was he the puppet? Golden Freddy? Mike? And now that we've come to a conclusion: half of golden Freddy (question mark) it just seems to not fit into the puzzle. FNAF 4 was fnaf at its prime. This post he made was before SL, multiple purple people, FNAF 6, VR, UCN, Fazbear Frights, and everything that's been released up to this point. Now, what I mean by all of this is: is this really the story Scott was trying to tell? I'm not sure why, but it seems to me that Scott has changed up some parts of the story. Rewritten them so the fazbear frights could clear them up for us because we couldn't figure them out before.
The reason I believe this is because, up until that post made by Scott, was there really much evidence to confirm two spirits in Golden Freddy? Think about it, Scott said that the story has remained completely hidden and that he didn't just fill the game with random easter eggs (obviously), and those easter eggs don't really give the conclusion of Golden Freddy having two spirits. I could be wrong, and all of these easter eggs could somehow come to the conclusion of GF having two spirits.
But now, onto another thing. Remember, in the security logbook, we see Mike drawing Nightmare Fredbear in the corner. Now that we know Mike isn't the crying child, this made some people think that Mike was the protagonist of FNAF 4's GAMEPLAY NIGHTS, not the minigames. This always bothered me, because we play in The Crying child's bedroom, cuz we see the same style dressers as in the mini-games, and the same style lamps.
That room would be much too childish for someone like the older brother. And when I told people about that, they just said, " well it could just be Mike playing in his younger brother's room." yes, but look at the player height. We are the size of a very small child, about the size of the crying child at the time. This also made people say, "Well this is the Crying Child giving Mike nightmares, and he's making him the size of when he killed the Crying Child." They back this up by using the reversed FNAF 1 phone call you hear in the background. "How would you be able to hear the FNAF 1 phone call if you weren't Mike? He is the only one that would have been able to hear that phone call." and they also use the evidence of Mike drawing Nightmare Fredbear in the logbook. Only the protagonist of FNAF 4 would be able to know the appearance of Nightmare Fredbear.
These are all really good claims, that made me finally start to believe them, and that the mini-games take place in 1983, but the gameplay and nights take place in the 90s after Mike goes to FNAF 1, and he has nightmares about killing the crying child. It would have to be after FNAF 1 so he could hear the night 1 phone call.
But, as you know, Scott likes to clear things up in his next game. And what do we see in Sister location? In the private room, we see William have cameras up of the FNAF 4 house. And it's not just of all the rooms in the house, there are only cameras of where all of the nightmares spawn. The bed, plushtrap's hallway, and of the crying child's room. Now, Remember the way you get this Easter egg? You type in the code 1983. Why would Scott make an Easter egg where he links the year 1983 to the FNAF 4 gameplay nights? And remember as I said, this can't just be William having cameras all over his house like a normal person, there are only cameras pointed at where FNAF 4's protagonist fights the nightmares.
This is hard evidence that FNAF 4's gameplay nights take place in 1983. Which doesn't make much sense because it's around 10 years before FNAF 1. How would the night one phone call make any sense? Now, this phone call could have been recorded way earlier than when we see in the games, but, we know that FNAF 2 happens before FNAF 1, and the FNAF 2 phone call sounds a lot worst quality than the FNAF 1 phone call. So that makes it seem like the FNAF 1 phone call would have been recorded after FNAF 2. (EDIT: The fnaf 1 phone calls had to have been recorded after fnaf 2, because phone guy died at the end of the fnaf 1 calls)
Also, this Easter egg is more evidence that the nightmares weren't actually nightmares, but they were created by William using the sound illusion discs. One example of this is Foxy in the closet. The more we check on him, the more he goes back, and eventually, he turns into a plushie. This represents how the illusion discs work. These nightmares are just plushies glorified by the sound illusion discs to make them look way scarier.
And we know that the plushie isn't the protagonist putting it there to know where everyone is, because the plushie isn't there before. It's only there once foxy is in the closet. also, another thing that bothered me was how we see the Fredbear plushie on the bed in the first mini-game. For some reason, it's always made me think that that's what the Freddy plushie represented on the bed in the gameplay nights. But that's just normal Freddy, why is that Freddy plush just sitting there on the bed? Well, it's just like nightmare foxy. That's exactly where nightmare Freddy spawns if you don't check on the freddles. I don't know how I didn't notice this before, but the freddles surround the Freddy plushie on the bed, and then nightmare Freddy appears if you don't check on them. Now we have two instances we're plushies represent the nightmare animatronics.
To me, this is all very interesting and opens up a lot more questions, and I'd love to see people theorizing in the comment section about going back and resolving all of these old mysteries. Also some random theories too. Why is there a sound of someone hitting a triangle instrument when we're under the desk in night 2 in SL? Who are the Bidybabs? What do they mean by "don't hold it against us" and, "You don't know what we've been through"? Are they William's remnant experiments? There are a lot of random plotholes that would be fun to go back and figure out. And I'd also love to hear some corrections/suggestions on this theory. What did you think about it?
submitted by _Dr3wS_ to GameTheorists [link] [comments]


2020.10.26 08:25 PointMan97 The Jackal Guards (Beta Reader Test) Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Salvaged Fortune 6 miles southeast of Jilib, Somalia
June 4th, 02:25 AM
They had to move fast, disregarding day and night, stressed or stretched, they marched ahead of the main armored spearhead of Horus. These mobile airborne wolves of the Legion set up a series of FOBs and FARBS along the highway connecting Mogadishu to Jilib. Each FOBs was manned by a company, who got there thanks to the fast-moving Roc Eagle VTOLs and helicopters dropping them into the battlezone ahead of time. AMISOM troops assisted in the construction and clearing of landmines ahead of time, while the troops waited for the following forces. First came the gunships and utility helicopters, they brought in mortar tubes for fire missions, as well as ammo for MRSI (Multiple Rounds Simultaneous Impact) fire missions.
Horus and Temujin accompanied each other in an IFV’s passenger cabin with a full squad ready for combat. Their convoy consisted of an M5A1 Sekhmet MBT tank platoon, three platoons of mechanized infantry, and their M3 Sobek IFVs and a cavalry recon squadron of lighter vehicles like Humvees and M2 Sobek, the reconnaissance and battlefield surveillance variants of the aforementioned IFVs. As they rode towards their objective at the town of Jilib, Horus took the time to call his wife, Princess Roxanna.
The video call on his HUD showed his beautiful wife sitting by a table with Thoth working on various matters with papers, books, and maps all brought to her attention. Roxanna was a beautiful anthro gold eagle, like Horus, she had her wings separate from her arms. Since married into the royal family, Roxanna wore a linen cloth dress with a gold beaded necklace on her neck and golden ring bearing a turquoise gem. Even when her dress left her hips and legs rather exposed, they could still see the hilt of her dagger in its sheath on the right leg. Besides her ample C-cups, she had a pair of brown and amber eyes with a golden sun-kissed feather.
"Hey, darling, how are things in Alexandria? I hope I'm not making you feel anxious while I'm away from home." Horus chuckled light-heartedly to Roxanna, she smiled wryly to him and shook her head gently. "Besides the fact that I'm having dinner with neither my husband nor brother. I'd say it's fine considering that we have a crisis we need to avert." Roxanna sarcastically replied to him while working on several maps and books with Thoth, one of the books appeared to have a page on the world serpent Jormungandr. "Look, I'm sorry that I messed up, and you're probably going to chew me up for it. But I am doing the best I can to fix things. Anyway, how are things in the palace?" Horus asked mildly to Roxanna to let her reply to him at leisure.
"Trying to figure out how Jormungandr's bad breath entered the human world, nothing much so far. Thoth tried explaining it to me. Maybe you can help?" She turned to Thoth, who happily nodded to her and looked at the screen of Horus's video call. "I've been researching the matter by order of Pharaoh Ra to assist you. Now you know that there are times when what happens in our world may manifest in the mortal one, no?" Thoth asked rhetorically towards Horus, prompting the falcon prince to nod as an answer. "Uh, yeah. I know that since I was five. So how exactly did Jormungandr's breath pop up in this world? I mean it needed someone to distribute it there, right?" Horus replied, asking his question, he was rather curious as to what Thoth might have in mind. "I suspect that someone in our realm of the gods brought it in there. Someone intimate with two things, the ocean and wyrms."
Thoth's ominous hypothesis sent chills down Horus's spine as he felt the air around him grow cold even for his armor plates. "Okay, that's a start. But who could that be? Are they alone or act in groups? We know that our enemy, He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, has a lot of rotten deity apples working for him." Horus replied skeptically, Thoth seeing this and chuckled to Horus.
"Oh, dear Horus, it's a simple game of deduction. We know that for one, our pantheon has no deity of the sea with wyrms. Besides the extremely distant Primordials, but even they are not responsible for that serpent born from Ra's umbilical cord." Thoth hinted to Horus with a tinge of annoyance at the end, making him think about what he meant a bit more. None in the Egyptian pantheon would do that, so it must be the Norse who knew Jormungandr, but they needed the help of another deity who was the deity of sea and oceans.
"Da Ji was in the North Sea helping them steal the samples from the Calypso. Do you think she was the one?" Horus hypothesized, promptin Thoth to nod at the falcon's progress in deduction and thinking. "Yes, a highly plausible suspect. But that alone simply won’t suffice. There might be other forces we know little about. And they might be benefitting from the situation."
Before Horus could reply, however, he heard the vehicle commander informing him of their distance to the target destination. “Lock and load back there! We’re in the hot zone now." He sighed out and looked at Roxanna intensely before bidding her goodbye. "I'll call you later, love. Gotta go now." He said solemnly to her, with Roxanna nodding to him sympathetically before bidding him goodbye for now. "You stay safe darling. And take care of my brother for me." Roxanna reminded him strictly, to which he nodded to him before he ended the call.
Once the IFV dropped down its ramp, Horus and his troops began to fan out and spread evenly around the area to cover the grasslands. As the IFV's turrets swiveled and rotated with their thermal imaging systems scanned for targets. They caught sight of enemy RPG gunners on patrol with assistant grenadiers hauling a backpack of extra RPG warheads. The ARGOS highlighted these threats with red geometry symbols with additional NATO symbols to indicate the types like infantry or vehicles. Horus moved with Temujin's rifle squad into the grasslands while others covered their flanks, the rest of the convoy fanned out for an all-out assault.
“Launching UAV.” The squad UAV operator, Gunter, said before launching a small falcon drone soaring into the sky, its optics served as the airborne camera for the Task Force, feeding the Unit of Action Command Vehicle with thermal imaging updates of enemy movements around the town. “Falcon-6, we have eyes on an enemy tank company set up on the other side of the Jubba River. How copy, over?” The commander's message came through to Horus, who was aiming his weapon at the outlying patrols. "I hear you Bulldog-6. Tell Hermes to expedite to Objective Kadesh."
"Roger that. All Hermes Units, expedite to Objective Kadesh and set up blocking positions." The robot wolf inside the Command Vehicle with his finger danced across the touch screen of his command table. A blue arrow drew from the position of the tank platoon and their cavalry recon squadron towards the direction of Objective Kadesh. It was nothing but a patch of dirt next to Jilib. The maneuver would, however, put the Sekhmet tank platoon and their scouts in front of enemy armor. Exactly as Horus would like it, a blocker on his right-wing to smash the numerically superior enemy tank force. Sure, there might be more Type-59s compared to a single Sekhmet MBT platoon, but the odds were in his favor. With howitzers to his rear, and their top attack ATGMs, Chinese tanks would be nothing but target practice.
"Keep formation and move at cruising speed. We're expecting hostile contact anytime now, so heads on a swivel!" The platoon commander sternly instructed his troops as they zoomed across the landscape, cruising at roughly 60km/h towards their objective. Their cavalry recon squadron moved at a faster pace, being ahead of them by one kilometer as the trailblazers. The tank platoon was from the 501st they brought with them the Jackal Guards' cream of the proverbial armor crops, the M5E1 Sekhmet Main Battle Tank.
Their recon squadron used cavalry recon vehicle variants of the IFVs. The M5E1, in particular, was something to be feared and respected on the battlefield. Some would rightfully laugh at its seemingly smaller and compact size when compared to other main battle tanks like Leopard 2s, T-90s, or M1 Abrams. Appearance-wise, it looked like a cross between the small M8 Thunderbolt's chassis design, slightly enlarged but still could be airborne deployable. The hull and chassis had blocks of ERA lined them to protect the steel beast from incoming projectiles.
The turrets had a sleek and angular wedge-shaped design, much like the Challenger series or the Abrams. On either side of the turret, there were sensor pads for its APS (Active Protection System), it didn't use a projectile base system like the Trophy system. The APS instead utilizes a laser system to melt incoming enemy projectiles, jam enemy radio-controlled explosives, and interference with enemy missile systems.
Even then, the tank's main gun made enemies fear for their very lives. A 120mm smoothbore main gun capable of engaging targets beyond the line of sight with GPS guided rounds, or fire barrel launched ATGMs of their own. A 7.62mm coaxial machine gun to ward off enemy infantry, and a triple barrel GAU-19 .50 cal BMG machine gun mounted on a CROW station.
"Sir, permission to fire?" Temujin asked anxiously, having his IR laser lined up on target with his M4A1 ready to fire. "Weapons free." Horus permitted nonchalantly. The crown prince and his iron wolves opened fire on the outlying patrols, dropping them instantly. But as expected, this alerted the enemy defenders inside the town as they hastily moved out to their fighting positions.
What followed was a cascade of tracer rounds and the crackling of machine gun fires, the thumping of grenade launchers and the whizzing, snapping of bullets as they hit the ground and clanking of shell casing falling to the ground. "All Rhinos, move up along the road and provide cover fire. All Hitman elements follow the IFVs and take out any RPGs you see." Horus ordered his troops and hastened their assault under his watch. “Here I go killing again.” Gunter grunted as he opened fire his M4A1 at the insurgents hiding inside the pillboxes.
The battlefield to the robots was like a rave party with their IR lasers dancing up and down. Trenches and bunkers had Dshk machine gun nests and SPGs to keep the Jackal Guards IFVs on their toes. As whenever the Dushka fired, the robots dived to the ground, and their automatic riflemen quickly lay down suppressive fire on the bunkers. The riflemen like Temujin sprinted across the field towards the trenches, with their grenadiers like Gunter, forming an assault team. Enemy technicals sped down to intercept the assault forces, only to be shot up by the IFVs. The turrets blew apart the vehicle's engine blocks before destroying the chassis of the fragile 4x4s.
Temujin led the assault into the trenches as he fired at the enemies that were preoccupied with the other robots. Being a combat pragmatist, Temujin quickly terminated any threats he saw with a double tap. When he approached the entrance of a bunker, he switched to his frag grenade, pulled the pin, and tossed in the grenade. It detonated and killed the occupants with a loud and violent blast. Temujin came in and found the place littered with burned and torn fabric, splattered blood, and the gruesomely twisted remains of the defenders.
He paid no notice to them and waved his hands to Horus and the other elements of his mechanized infantry company. "Alright, they took the trenches, move up! Hitman-1, you sweep the southern part of town, Hitman-2 cover them, Temujin, you're with me and 1-1 to flank their right." Horus shouted orders to them, quickly coordinating the robots to take swarm in and secure the town.
As Horus and the robots began to sweep into the town of Jilib hunting for their HVT, the defenders fell back and regrouped in the inner parts of town. Horus took point with Temujin, Gunter and a squad of robot wolves following the falcon as they cleared through the streets. Occasionally, they bumped into civilians hiding in their homes or shuttering their windows, trying to hide from the sudden outbreak of fighting in their town. When Temujin took the lead, he bumped into a panicking mother and her crying infant. The black wolf held her still and took a glance over his shoulders to see if his teammates were covering him. He shushed at her and gestured for her to keep her head down before helping her seek shelter. “You sure got ways with kids.” Gunter commented with a smirk.
Once Temujin and his squad arrived at the main road running through Jilib, he saw the enemies hiding inside a two story building adorned with the Al-Shabaab black flag. There was a radio antenna on the rooftop with enemy machine gunners defending the place with RPDs. The machine guns opened fire on Temujin, making him flinch in reaction, falling back as debris and concrete fell on his muzzle and optical lenses. He wiped them off and took a deep breath before pressing himself against the wall. "Cover us! I want suppressive fire on that bastard, Temujin, you and Karkaros with me. We're kicking the door." Horus ordered them fiercely, prompting the machine gunner of their squad to lay down sustained suppression on the enemy machine gunners.
As their teammates tossed down smoke grenades to cover Horus and Temujin sprinting across the streets with some volunteers, the occupants inside the building were scrambling to call for reinforcements on the radio. The operator screamed frantically, his cries for help sounded static laced through the radio filter. "Rhino, Rhino! This is Den, we are under attack, need immediate assistance, so get over here and drive back the enemy assault." On the other end of the line, the tank company commander picked up the radio and replied with a thick Chinese accent. "Affirmative Den, we're moving to assist you now. Hold on tight." Once he put down the radio, the Chinese captain ran out of his bunker wearing his tanker helmet cap and uniform. The Chinese crew ran to their ZTZ-59s and crewed up with the tank headlights switched on. They began to roll out first, heading towards the bridge, followed by the BMP-1 IFVs carrying their infantry.
As for Hermes, they came to their objective on time with the tank platoon fanned out and took positions inside the treeline. The scouts dismounted from their vehicles with Javelin ATGMs set up inside hastily dug out fighting positions. Some of them had binoculars and long-range surveillance tools set up to survey both the town and the bridge. "I have visual contact on enemy tank battalion. Bearing 285, distance 4 Klicks and closing in, recommend that we get Arty on standby just in case." The scoutmaster instructed his JTAC operator, Archer. The robot owl then nodded and tapped into the communication network to relay the information to the tank platoon commander.
"Looks like a pretty flimsy force coming at us. All Hermes elements, this is Hermes-6 open fire. Engage targets at your discretion." The platoon leader eagerly ordered his tank platoon, prompting them to open fire on the incoming Type-59s. Their night visions showed them a green-tinted world with a darkened horizon that occasionally lit up by the flashes of their gun muzzles and 120mm smoothbore rounds going downrange. "Hermes-6, great gun! Great gun! We got hostile tanks lit up down there, and must have hurt them plenty." Said Archer as the robot owl used his binocular with a wrist-mounted computer pad to analyze enemy vehicles to determine their variant and models.
Archer's screen showed him a 3D hologram of the enemy tank that his binocular laser range finding system scanned. It identified several modular mounts on the tank, these were laser range finder modules, and slat armor around the dome-shaped turret with smoke dischargers. "Positive ID on enemy Type-88 tank. Expect more of them coming. How copy?" Archer's message came to the Unit of Action Command Vehicle, where the commander took it with some concerns. "Good copy Archer, setting up for arty strike now over."
The Battalion commander then danced his finger across the screen, tapped on symbols of howitzer detachment to the rear, and began tapping on enemy symbols to relay strike orders. "Coordinates confirmed, firing. Shells out!" The artillery began to fire off their payload of 155mm rounds on the target coordinates. To the rear of the Commander, armored tracked howitzers fired off a barrage of conventional 155mm HE shells. The shells came down on the enemy tank company, stunning them instantly. The Chinese tanks slowed down and scrambled to take up positions along the riverbanks, forming a defensive line to defilade for their IFVs.
"Hostile IFVs are crossing the river, all elements, fire at will! Take out those BMPs before they disembark." The platoon commander ordered, prompting his tanks to turn their attention to the fragile BMP clones and fired, the lead vehicle took a direct hit through the hull, the second following it got hit in the turret. The dismounted robot jackals of the cavalry recon squadron had their Javelin ATGMs ready; they aimed at the enemy tanks and fired. Top attack missiles soared into the air, before correcting their flight pattern to strike at the top of the Chinese tank turrets.
As the enemy tank company and their IFVs and their IFVs took heavy losses, Horus and Temujin breached through the walls of the enemy command post with a sledgehammer smashing a large gaping hole through the wall. Temujin tossed in a flashbang, stunning the enemies inside. Horus then came in firing his weapons with Temujin following him closely with the grenadier and auto rifleman filling in behind him.
The defenders inside the building were Al-Shabaab militants. Caught off guard and terrified, they fired wildly through the dark. They foolishly hoped that their muzzle flashes would give them a hint of where their enemies were. Only for Horus to slam his fist through the doors and walls, knocking the militants dead, or Temujin landing accurate shots into their barely protected torso.
As they cleared through the command post's ground floor, Horus kicked down a door to a room with a single lightbulb on the ceiling with Temujin storming inside. "Got somebody here! He looks banged up real bad." Said Temujin as he then untied the subject, and Horus quickly examined the wounded man. Cuts and bruises were visible on the man’s body, a fresh bleeding scar ran down his cheek.
The robot falcon began to use his healing power as he did to Colonel Chima. Unfortunately, his power didn’t seem to do much as the man himself remained in critical conditions. Some wounds were stabilized but he was not out of the woods. "Hey, look at me! Can you hear me? How many claws am I holding up?" Horus asked urgently, the prisoner made a labored breath and replied. "Two. Who or what are you?"
"Your guardian angels for today, let's get you to the medic," Horus replied with an elated tone, he took a second look at the man's face for his facial recognition software to run a check if this was the target he was looking for. A positive ID result came in, further elating his mood as he lifted the man over his shoulder. "Sir, couldn’t you heal him like Colonel Chima?" Temujin asked cautiously, with Horus huffing in annoyance.
“Look at me, do you see serious damages or bullets on me? Depending on the damages I take, I can heal myself and nearby friendlies to a certain degree.” Horus grumbled before switching to a medic of the squad as they moved into the building. "Medic! Link to remote triage and see what you can do. We need him alive five by five, understand? Temujin, get up to the roof and set up an overwatch with the AT section.” Horus ordered the robot wolf, who nodded to him and picked up his weapon then ran up to the roof.
"Contact, across the river, company size hostile moving towards us!" The squad leader called out. His robots fired on the incoming Chinese troops with their tracer rounds light up the night. Their night visions showed them a horde of Chinese infantry crawling on the ground with SKS rounds' green tracers zipping past them, over their heads or falling on the wall. Temujin aimed with his M4A1 carbine and fired on the enemies below. His bullets tend to land directly onto their unprotected heads, blowing out bits of brains and flesh, terrifying other militias. Some of them retaliated with RPDs, firing sustained hail of lead against the robots. "Falcon-6, sir, what's the status on the HVT? Shit's getting real hardcore for us, sir." Temujin asked Horus over the radio.
Horus and a Combat Lifesaver robot were working on the agent. The CLS was hard-pressed to stabilize the wounded agent completely, while then Horus was taking potshots at the incoming Chinese hordes. "Almost there, the doc is applying the disinfectant and bandages. I'm giving you fire support priority, rain fire on those assholes!" Horus screeched out as some bullets struck his chest, sending slight jolts of pain through his body before harmlessly bouncing off to the ground. "Just bombard them back to the stone age!" Horus ordered aggressively with an annoyed tone as he dusted his chest plates.
Temujin soon heard a ping sound on his wrist-mounted hologram interface. He pressed his back against the wall and began to work on the interface. His finger trailed from the artillery icon and tapped it on the map, where the mass of Chinese militias was. "Roger that Hitman shot out, splash, over." The artillery crew called over the radio with the thundering howitzer roaring on the distant horizon. The whistling and howling of artillery shells flew overhead, landing down on the ground with a violent detonation and rumbling. Chinese militia saw their ranks decimated in seconds, flesh and blood splattered all over.
"Thrasher, this is Hitman, good effect on targets. We're counting 20 hostile KIA the rest are disengaging, expect more to come." Temujin reported the artillery crew with a sigh of relief as he watched the terrified Chinese turn away from the battle and ran as fast as they could. Some even tossed down their rifles and equipment to run as fast as they could. "Roger that Hitman, glad to have assisted. Standing by if you need further fire support, over." Temujin then went downstairs to check on Horus and the agent. Once he came down the stairs, he saw Horus and the CLS had the agent stabilized, "Good work with the artillery. Maybe you should sign up for arty school once we've finished here." Horus congratulated with a pat on the robot's shoulder, a thank you exited Temujin's mouth as he then helped the doctor with the stretcher and the agent.
As they came out to the streets of Jilib, their MRAPs pulled up in front of the building. The CLS to load the agent into the back of the MRAP with Horus climbing in as well. The Crown Prince was mindful with his wings folded into his back to save room and sat down next to the agent. "Are you alright? Before I send you off to the nearest medical tent, I need to ask something. What did you know about the airfield?" Horus asked the agent, who then smiled at the deity even if he did not fully comprehend who Horus was. "I thank you for saving my life, Sadik. I was keeping my eyes on the airfield. They pack it up just before dawn all the time. Then hide the equipment in the town of Jilib. Then deploy at night to guide incoming aircraft. May I ask your name, Sadik?"
As they came out to the streets of Jilib, their MRAPs pulled up in front of the building. The CLS to load the agent into the back of the MRAP with Horus climbing in as well. The Crown Prince was mindful with his wings folded into his back to save room and sat down next to the agent. "Are you alright? Before I send you off to the nearest medical tent, I need to ask something. What did you know about the airfield?" Horus asked the agent, who then smiled at the deity even if he did not fully comprehend who Horus was. "I thank you for saving my life, Sadik. I was keeping my eyes on the airfield. They pack it up just before dawn all the time. Then hide the equipment in the town of Jilib. Then deploy at night to guide incoming aircraft. May I ask your name, Sadik?" The agent asked with a friendly chuckle, with Horus smiling gently to the gratefulness and friendly attitude. Prompting him to return his own, "Horus, son of Isis." He tersely remarked before standing up and exiting the MRAP.
Once the MRAP drove away, Horus and Temujin went with a platoon out to check the airfield on the other side of the river. Once they crossed over, the platoon saw the remains of Chinese Type-59 tanks and various IFVs burning from their encounter with Hermes. Archer joined Horus, accompanying him on foot as they casually marched towards the now abandoned airfield. "Sir, you think they might leave behind some surprises for us? Maybe booby traps and burning the documents?" Archer suggested cautiously. Horus shook his head to Archer, "Nah, negative. They hastily took off. So I doubt they would have the time to either shred or burn documents. Let alone wiping the black boxes." Horus remarked confidently.
After arriving at the airfield, they began to fan out and search the surrounding areas for clues. Horus found a wind flag on a mobile generator trailer. The generator had its cable coupling connected to a mobile radar trailer. The place appeared to have been nothing more than a stretch of land, flat and open enough for them to use some steamrollers to pave a makeshift runway. Archer went under some tree shades and found a camouflage net with wooden crates with simplified Chinese writing. "Sir, it looks like we hit the motherlode. Still, I'm surprised that they didn't try to take off with these cargoes. Maybe they're incompetents? Fresh meat and want to desert?" Archer mused, trying to make sense of their finding.
"Maybe they can easily replace the loss. Let's open it up." Temujin obeying the order, he then helped Archer crack open one of the boxes and lifted the lid. They found the content of the box to be nothing more than cheap AK knockoffs. The other box was a more modern HJ-12 box with a launcher and optical system. "What's your assessment, Archer? An opinion or two would be nice." Horus asked before going over inspecting the other weapon crates.
"Probably a new shipment, maybe a day or two old. From the looks of it, nothing much, but would still be enough to keep the insurgents annoying us for a week." The robot owl assessed with his hand stroking his chin while Horus and Temujin inspected the crates. "A bad week is more than enough materials for the media to latch on. Grab the crates and stuff them on the HEMTTs, we’ll be heading back to the Mog." Horus ordered calmly, the other wolves nodded to their monarch and went to work beginning to bring in their cargo trucks to load the shipments on.
10:35 Hours that same day
Mogadishu, Somalia
By the time the Jackal Guards had returned to the city's airport, they had a display of trophies in the form of captured enemy weapons. On the ground were a dozen large sheets with different colors for weapon categories. The robot wolves and their AMISOM allies placed their trophies on the sheets, starting with pistols. Then came SMGs and Assault Rifles. Before long, they reached RPGs, mortars, sniper rifles, machine guns of all manners. The cacophony of metal clanking and clinging against the ground made an even louder roll call than the armory master. Eventually, Horus was standing before a dazzling array of weapons enough to feed a battalion of guerrillas.
As he paced around the displays, journalists and AMISOM war photographers took photos and recordings of the captured weapons. Some of the journalists were busy interviewing a robot wolf with a Pioneer's crossed shovel and pickaxe symbol painted on his shoulder patch. "Sir, what can you tell us about the captured weapons? How did the insurgents smuggle these firearms into Somalia? Is there any evidence that these are Chinese made weapons?" An Austrian journalist asked, holding his microphone to the 7 feet robot lycan. "Simple, they used a five miles stretch of open land, paved by steamrollers as their runway. Then their aircraft will either land or airdrop the cargo." The Pioneer bot replied with his hand pointing to a sample crate with parachute harnesses on it.
The Pioneer bot then begins to demonstrate one of the weapons, a Norinco Type-56 assault rifle, the Chinese clone of the Izhmash AKM. He then squeezed the trigger, laying down several bursts of automatic fire on the target boards downrange. The journalists and reporters cringed and reacted with hands holding their ears at the crackling muzzles. The Pioneer bot then held the weapon to the camera, giving them a clear look at the Chinese production stamp and the serial numbers, writings imprinted on the rifle.
"A bit of an excessive demonstration there, Corporal, allow me to handle this," Horus muttered to the Pioneer 's ears before the robot falcon stepped in to continue the interview before the cameras. Publicity has always been Horus's forte, much more so than Anubis. In many ways, Horus was the marketing face of the Jackal Guards in their previously almost exclusively African and the Middle East market.
The moment Horus stepped into the camera's view, the journalists were overwhelmed by sheer ecstasy and the chance to interview an entity from beyond their world. "Can you please disclose details in your operations? How long have you been operating in Somalia?" An Indian reporter asked, holding his microphone to Horus's beak. "Any comments on the enemies you've fought so far?" An American New York Times journalist asked with her recorder ready. "What's your motivation for being here? Money? Fame? Glory?" A Japanese journalist chimed in, trying to get a scoop as well.
Horus seeing the journalists ganged up on him, felt a bit off-putting by their apparent insistence with getting information. He had grown accustomed to curated interviews with journalists with Anubis's approval and inside a secured location. "Easy people, one question at a time." Horus held up his hands and gestured to them to take it slow one at a time. Behind him, Rameses nervously rubbed his temple. He knew Horus's ego and his craving for publicities and playboy attitude could get out of hand. "First of all, we're not here for the glory. Money is arguably one motive for us, but not the overriding one. We're here to fight for those who can't defend themselves."
"Can you specify your involvement here? Your operation objectives and the forces present here? Were you in the North Sea and Paris a couple of days ago?" A German DW journalist asked Horus, prompting the robot falcon to nod his head. "Long story short, yes, I was in the North Sea and Paris. I represent the Jackal Guards, the world's finest Foreign Legion besides the Gallic one." Horus suddenly stumped as he felt like he had shot himself yet again, with the journalists having a double-take when he called the French Foreign Legion "Gallic." Rameses gritted his teeth behind Horus's back, "Damn you, idiot!" the Inquisitor cursed at Horus as he grew much more stressed out.
"We're here to provide long term security and development for the Somalian people. The SPLF threatens them and our AMISOM clients. Naturally, we are obliged to engage without a second thought." Horus continued, the journalists lean in a bit closer to continue their interview and get anything they can from Horus.
"Our method is that we employ long term counter-insurgency strategies against the SPLF. Firstly, we sever communications and coordination between cells. Then we starve them of supplies from both abroad and within Somalia. Finally, we decapitate their leadership." Horus concluded his presentation. Along the way, He also used his claw to draw golden lines in mid-air to illustrate the Jackal Guards strategies.
The journalists gasped, and some had their mouths hanging at the sight of Horus' claws being a stylus pen drawing holograms in mid-air. Some of them had to switch on the video recorder mode on their phones to make sure that they have more than enough scoops for their editors. "So how long have you been operating in the region? Who created and programmed you?" The Indian journalist asked again with a highly inquisitive expression. Horus felt even more nervous, divided even. He could ill-afford the poor publicity, but this was an opportunity to rally the world's opinions to the Guards favors.
"To be frank with you, we've been operating in the Middle East and Africa for roughly eight years. We kept our operations localized and secret, for the most part. Many brave warriors are charging into battles as we speak, and I cannot disclose them for their operational security. As for your other question, no one made me. I was born like anyone else." This bombshell by Horus made the Journalists baffled and confused.
Their minds and thought processes found it nonsensical for a robot to claim itself born instead of made. "What do you mean born? You are a robot, a machine in front of our very eyes! Who made you? Do you even have memories of your creator?" The same DW journalist asked again, making Horus rolled his eyes in annoyance at their insistence.
Horus sighed out and maintained his composure for a moment. Even then, it was growing difficult with how the journalists kept coming at him to try and make sense of the oxymoron idea of a robot somehow being born. "To elaborate, I am crown prince Heru Sa Aset. But you may better know me as Horus, son of Isis." Horus spoke with a steely voice, prompting the journalists to cave in and asking him more.
"Was it literally or figuratively? Our readers and viewers are very bewildered by your statement." The Austrian journalist questioned, with Horus looking over at the Austrian man to answer his question while the other microphones and recorders were mere inches from his face. Suddenly, he felt oddly at home with this. It was familiar with what he had done in the days of town criers and orators to build his cult's following.
"Literally." He replied tersely, "I am THE one, and only Horus the divine god of Egypt." Horus spoke, his attitude and flair sounded more upbeat and confident than before. Rameses took notice and raised his head to see if his senses were playing tricks on him. And indeed, he was seeing Horus holding the media's attention fixed firmly on him.
"Yes, I'm a literal god before your very eyes. Why am I a robot? Just for the conveniences of leading my troops, whom you all have seen to be robots." Horus stated with a dramatic flair and a casual, relaxed, cocky expression on his robot face. "Also, before you ask, this is my body that I enhanced and robotized through advancements in Nanotechnology."
For a moment, Rameses felt a little less stressed out by Horus' method of handling the press. Usually, they kept to themselves and shunned press coverage of their works. The law of the Hidden One, the gods work in mysterious ways, for it is proof of their omnipotent and omnipresent. To do so otherwise would risk mortals grow complacent, and the gods can ill-afford humanity being over-reliant on them. Horus knew this well, but times had changed, so too must the gods.
"How do you think the viewers would react to know that you're running a mercenary army and perhaps black operations for hire? Would that affect your divinity or legitimacy in any way?" The American NYT journalist inquired cautiously. Horus took notice of it and made a little confident smirk. "A god earns his followers through actions. They know that what I do helps them sleep well. Therefore, I don't think I would lose any followers." Horus replied confidently to the journalist, for NYT journalist, the idea of a mercenary army, a black op one at that, would fight for ideals and noble causes sounded like a relic of a different time.
"Just one last question, sir. Will there be press releases of media from your forces? Such as photos and videos as proof of your work?" With the question of the Indian journalist, Horus nodded and further elaborated on how much disclosure there will be. "Of course, there will be. Our in-house media and outreach team has an archive of declassified footage of our combat operations as well as some more recent recordings of our operation in Somalia." With that, Horus had the Pioneer bot lead the journalists to a different area of the airport to see the outreach team. Horus sighed out a breath of relief that he had gotten the pressure of media coverage off his back, presumably for the better.
Horus turned around and went over to Rameses, patting his shoulder for reassurances only for the Inquisitor to catch Horus’s wrist with a glare. “You know there’s a reason why Anubis shun away journalists, right?” Rameses asked threateningly to Horus, making him nervous for his dear life when the Inquisitor sounded eerily close to Anubis. "I do. But we can't just keep on pretending that the world has no ways of finding us. We let them know who we are. It's our chance to prove ourselves and earn some new supporters." Horus calmly replied to Rameses before walking away with him.
"It's risky but worth the shot. And if it's successful, perhaps Ra will give you a reason to be on the throne." Rameses reluctantly conceded with a sigh, prompting Horus to hug him with a bear hug. "I won't let any of you down, I promise!" He eagerly remarked while Rameses grunted and cringed when he felt the pressure of Horus's much more muscular athletic build bearing down on the Inquisitor's robot chassis.
submitted by PointMan97 to HFY [link] [comments]


2020.10.24 02:08 granthinton Camera videos hidden room changing

Part one.
I gave up after another search of the scene. There was no letter. Not like the first time. I watched them carry Laura away thinking about her poor children. The murderer had broken another family.
But why?
Was I missing something? Did the person responsible only want to kidnap my son? Was Waters’s death a distraction to achieving that? But why take a heart from a heart op female?
I couldn’t get my head around those facts as the car sped down the road. The roads were a blur until we pulled into my cul-de-sac. 2am and the bedroom light was still on. Not a good sign. That meant Julie was at the bottle again. Sure enough as I step through the door a triad of abuse sailed from the staircase.
“IT'S YOUR FAULT, YOU BASTARD!
Fending off her blows, which wasn’t easy, I made my way to the kitchen. Julie followed close behind still shouting obscenities. I tried fighting off the feeling of hatred to the women that once held my heart, but it was so damn hard. It’s like she been taken over by this banshee. Julie’s transformation from grieving mother to broken drunk was almost complete. Almost, because I didn’t want to truly believe it.
She rattles around me in half her bedclothes. It’s like she attempted to get changed but got too drunk by the time she needed to put on her bottoms.
“It’s yyyyour fault. Youuu and that bloodyyy job. If youuu weren't a cop, Xander would still be here!”
“Go put some clothes on,” I shout back, working around her hanging my coat and stalking to the kitchen. I’m dying for a cup of tea and some peace and quiet. But Julie’s screams stop that.
“You fucking prick!” She beat at my chest. I lose control. The back of my hand stops her short. I’ve never slapped her before. I feel my rage turn to shame. Looking into her teary eyes reminds me of the women beneath the alcohol.
I fucked up, again.
She runs from the room.
I listen to the stomping of stairs, the slam of a door and the squeak of the bed springs. My head falls to my chest, and shame follows me to my office.
For some reason, after Xander was kidnapped from school, Julie wanted CCTV installed into the house. I don’t know why? All that was left in the house was worthless without Xander. The obsession over the cameras took up a week of her life until the bottle replaced it. Now it was just another thing that was forgotten about. A bit like me.
At my work chair I shuffle around tidying things that didn’t need tidying. I’ve felt this way since my golden handshake. I’m not needed anymore but so full of rage that I can’t sit still. This house, this office reminds me of my past and I don’t like it.
Certificates hang on the walls, a medal in a glass frame that I got from rescuing some kid from his suicidal father sits in a glass case at the back of a shelf. My life had meaning once. Once I did good and helped others. Now, I couldn’t even help my own family. The depression sinks back in. The tea, hot and sweet, just how I like it, is a small comfort in times like this.
I don’t know why I checked the cameras but when I do I notice a blip on the day line. The cameras recorded something around 10pm tonight. The video fires up when I click it and I nearly drop my tea cup when it plays. I press my face closer to the monitor, my throat frozen. I fight back the tears. There is no mistaking the boy on the recording. Xander was at our front door not too long ago.
For some stupid reason I run to the door and fling it open. But he isn’t there. Just as quickly I run back and watch it again. Xander, his hand covered in a bandage, slips a letter under the door and then stops. His eyes are red from crying, and he has a tightness in his shoulder only fear can give.
My boy is scared, and I think I know why. Xander looks behind him. He fights some invisible fight, torn between the comfort of his home and the person controlling him. When his hand raises to knock on the door, his head flicks around as if someone calls him. The next second he’s gone.
I fold up like an old seaside deckchair. My mind shut down and emotions take over. My tears are hot, wet and never ending.
Why didn’t he knock? Julie would have saved him and we could have all been back together again.
Minutes turn by as I sit on the floor of my office in a crumbled mess. The computer hums, sounds of the night invade the room and I sit like an old, washed up fool. Suddenly two things dawn on me at once. One, my baby boy is alive, and two, he slipped something under the door.
For the second time, I run to the door. I hadn’t seen it when I came in because of Julie’s assault. I pull the yellow letter out from under the front door mat with a shaking hand.
It’s the same paper as before. Crinkled, yellow and smelling of mould. I opened it and read:

Dear detective,
It's strange that I haven’t seen you, so I sent your beloved. If you’re wondering, there is another of his fingers waiting on your step. Never underestimate that I will continue to chop him up.
If you want to avenge him you have to find me. But how can you do that, when yourselves can’t find the bodies? The two you’ve missed add to my collection nicely. But, I will help you find them. I’m not careless, I can’t have you leave them in their artistic poses.
That is your first clue, Detective. Do with it what you may. Xander is such a good boy. He is helping me to ready my artistic work. But it won’t be complete until you are here.
The body the detective found wasn’t really for him. He may have earned my wrath. We will see if he gets in the way again. He can’t help of course, that’s against the rules.
Now, a clue to the other bodies.
With God you can unload, where no souls tread. My letter can break codes, but for now, dread.
He shines in darkness, she in the light. Find one at it’s centre and one at your height.
I hope that helps. I’ve always found written words hold more power for me. These letters will also help drive your vengeance. Oh, how I want you angry, John. All I want you to feel is lt. I want it to drive you to know the pain like it’s mine. To feel it in every breath like I do, Detective. It dominates me.
I do hope you find the bodies before anyone else. It’s only fitting. I will be immensely cross if that doesn’t happen. If it does happen, well, I’ll repay whoever is so stupid. Even that detective.
My collection is getting big. Xander says it’s scary, but I think it’s perfection. Only one more part left, John. The last one is a big one. I’ll just have to pray to the Lord.
N.
The letter crumbles in my hand. I know where one of the bodies is. The abandoned church near Xander’s school. It seems fitting, it’s near enough to be insulting to both me and Xander, and depraved enough for the sick bastard as well.
The religious words in both letters make me believe he’s somehow warped by his faith, but in my experience most of these types of cases are with the aid of religious influences.
A religious nut, that’s all I need.
I reach for my phone and dial Rowland.
The letter told me where I could also find the body within the church. At the centre of all Churches is the cross. My hunch is, all I need to find is the biggest one and I’ll find the body. What I don’t get is the part of the letter about my height.
Rowland answers on the third ring.
“What’s up?” His voice cracks with the drone of the road, that means he isn't home yet.
Jackpot.
“I’ve got something. Meet me at the old church on Taymount Rise,” I don’t wait to hear his reply. I’m already getting my car keys off the hook and opening the door.
I may have moved out of the Forest Hill area when I was twelve, but it will always be a part of my childhood. My mother worked two of the pubs in the town and a restaurant in the mornings. I knew the place like the back of my hand. And I knew the Church too.
The thing was old, like two hundred years or something. Tall, imposing. Made of mortared stone in the old fashion. Strong and unbreakable. Like their faith some will say. I don’t know about that. I don’t have any faith left.
In the darkness it looked as foreboding as a monster’s castle. Thankfully, I didn’t give a shit about monsters and the moon gives off another light to see by. But the torches help where it won’t. The street lights were never good even when I lived here.
Rowland opens the heavy oak door with barely a sound. The interior is shrouded in darkness and smells as hollow as it looks. With the aid of a torch, rubbish and the scattering of once used furniture comes into view. At one point in time squatters had ransacked the place.
We don’t have to look hard to find him. My hunch was right, the cross is the centre of the Church and he’s strapped to it. The man is around twenty years old, his hair was probably blond once but it’s so encrusted with dirt and mud it’s almost black. I can also see he taken two body parts this time. The man’s right leg and left arm. Whatever this fucking weirdo is doing with the parts is anyone’s guess. But I’m guessing it’s not good.
“He must have fought him pretty badly,” Rowland flashes the torch on the scratches up his neck and face. I pick off the woven crown of twigs and cast it at the wall angrily.
“We better call this one in,” I let the torch fall on Rowland’s chest so I don’t blind him.
“We?” I hear the irony in his voice. “I better ring this one in, you better leave. If Monroe turns up and you’re here, he’s gonna have a fucking field day.”
He isn’t wrong.
While Rowland works the perimeter I do a quick search of the body and find another finger. It’s a pinky, and it doesn’t belong to the man.
“That three,” I say, holding it up for Rowland to see. Then I place it in the metal box that holds the others fingers. It fits snugly in my inside pocket much to Rowland’s horror. His disgusted face pisses me off.
“They’re my sons.” I say, barely hiding the strained tension in my voice. Rowland says nothing in return, but instead turns away.
He dials his phone and moves off. It’s the chance I’ve been waiting for. Throughout the whole investigation I’ve hidden the fact that there are letters. I know full well if I tell Monroe or Rowland about them, I won’t see them again. It’s sick to say it, but the letters are like life lines to my son. In some weird way I can’t be apart from them. It’s like they still connect me to Xander.
The letter I find slips into my pocket next to the fingers. I glance up quickly. Rowland’s back is turned. I turn and make my way out the door with the feeling like a ghost is about to jump out on me. A few seconds later and Rowland joins me.
“Ok, Monroe will probably be here first light, but forensics are on the way, that gives you a chance to get out of here,” he pats me on the shoulder.
I forget how long we’ve worked together. I was already a veteran when he got partnered with me. A middle aged fool. Like him, my old partner’s partner was pensioned off when I joined the force. The lucky bastard had a full eleven years of my sorry old ass riding next to his.
“Thanks, Leon. I appreciate it.”
He nods and waves me away. “You just get some rest. If anything else comes up I’ll let you know.”
As I pop the car door to get in, Rowland calls out.
“I forgot to ask, how did you know where to find this body?”
I didn’t think this far ahead.
“Good old police work,” I call, and hope he can’t see through my lie. “And a lucky hunch,” I smile trying to calm my nerves. Luckily, Rowland’s cheeks rise and a non-committed chuckle falls out of his mouth as he turns back to his phone.
I swallow the growing dread inside. I really want to open the letter and see if this one gives any clue to where my son is being held, but I can’t risk it.
Not here.
Not now.
Part 3
submitted by granthinton to libraryofshadows [link] [comments]


2020.10.21 22:51 granthinton Incomplete Part 2

Part one.
I gave up after another search of the scene. There was no letter. Not like the first time. I watched them carry Laura away thinking about her poor children. The murderer had broken another family.
But why?
Was I missing something? Did the person responsible only want to kidnap my son? Was Waters’s death a distraction to achieving that? But why take a heart from a heart op female?
I couldn’t get my head around those facts as the car sped down the road. The roads were a blur until we pulled into my cul-de-sac. 2am and the bedroom light was still on. Not a good sign. That meant Julie was at the bottle again. Sure enough as I step through the door a triad of abuse sailed from the staircase.
“IT'S YOUR FAULT, YOU BASTARD!
Fending off her blows, which wasn’t easy, I made my way to the kitchen. Julie followed close behind still shouting obscenities. I tried fighting off the feeling of hatred to the women that once held my heart, but it was so damn hard. It’s like she been taken over by this banshee. Julie’s transformation from grieving mother to broken drunk was almost complete. Almost, because I didn’t want to truly believe it.
She rattles around me in half her bedclothes. It’s like she attempted to get changed but got too drunk by the time she needed to put on her bottoms.
“It’s yyyyour fault. Youuu and that bloodyyy job. If youuu weren't a cop, Xander would still be here!”
“Go put some clothes on,” I shout back, working around her hanging my coat and stalking to the kitchen. I’m dying for a cup of tea and some peace and quiet. But Julie’s screams stop that.
“You fucking prick!” She beat at my chest. I lose control. The back of my hand stops her short. I’ve never slapped her before. I feel my rage turn to shame. Looking into her teary eyes reminds me of the women beneath the alcohol.
I fucked up, again.
She runs from the room.
I listen to the stomping of stairs, the slam of a door and the squeak of the bed springs. My head falls to my chest, and shame follows me to my office.
For some reason, after Xander was kidnapped from school, Julie wanted CCTV installed into the house. I don’t know why? All that was left in the house was worthless without Xander. The obsession over the cameras took up a week of her life until the bottle replaced it. Now it was just another thing that was forgotten about. A bit like me.
At my work chair I shuffle around tidying things that didn’t need tidying. I’ve felt this way since my golden handshake. I’m not needed anymore but so full of rage that I can’t sit still. This house, this office reminds me of my past and I don’t like it.
Certificates hang on the walls, a medal in a glass frame that I got from rescuing some kid from his suicidal father sits in a glass case at the back of a shelf. My life had meaning once. Once I did good and helped others. Now, I couldn’t even help my own family. The depression sinks back in. The tea, hot and sweet, just how I like it, is a small comfort in times like this.
I don’t know why I checked the cameras but when I do I notice a blip on the day line. The cameras recorded something around 10pm tonight. The video fires up when I click it and I nearly drop my tea cup when it plays. I press my face closer to the monitor, my throat frozen. I fight back the tears. There is no mistaking the boy on the recording. Xander was at our front door not too long ago.
For some stupid reason I run to the door and fling it open. But he isn’t there. Just as quickly I run back and watch it again. Xander, his hand covered in a bandage, slips a letter under the door and then stops. His eyes are red from crying, and he has a tightness in his shoulder only fear can give.
My boy is scared, and I think I know why. Xander looks behind him. He fights some invisible fight, torn between the comfort of his home and the person controlling him. When his hand raises to knock on the door, his head flicks around as if someone calls him. The next second he’s gone.
I fold up like an old seaside deckchair. My mind shut down and emotions take over. My tears are hot, wet and never ending.
Why didn’t he knock? Julie would have saved him and we could have all been back together again.
Minutes turn by as I sit on the floor of my office in a crumbled mess. The computer hums, sounds of the night invade the room and I sit like an old, washed up fool. Suddenly two things dawn on me at once. One, my baby boy is alive, and two, he slipped something under the door.
For the second time, I run to the door. I hadn’t seen it when I came in because of Julie’s assault. I pull the yellow letter out from under the front door mat with a shaking hand.
It’s the same paper as before. Crinkled, yellow and smelling of mould. I opened it and read:

Dear detective,
It's strange that I haven’t seen you, so I sent your beloved. If you’re wondering, there is another of his fingers waiting on your step. Never underestimate that I will continue to chop him up.
If you want to avenge him you have to find me. But how can you do that, when yourselves can’t find the bodies? The two you’ve missed add to my collection nicely. But, I will help you find them. I’m not careless, I can’t have you leave them in their artistic poses.
That is your first clue, Detective. Do with it what you may. Xander is such a good boy. He is helping me to ready my artistic work. But it won’t be complete until you are here.
The body the detective found wasn’t really for him. He may have earned my wrath. We will see if he gets in the way again. He can’t help of course, that’s against the rules.
Now, a clue to the other bodies.
With God you can unload, where no souls tread. My letter can break codes, but for now, dread.
He shines in darkness, she in the light. Find one at it’s centre and one at your height.
I hope that helps. I’ve always found written words hold more power for me. These letters will also help drive your vengeance. Oh, how I want you angry, John. All I want you to feel is lt. I want it to drive you to know the pain like it’s mine. To feel it in every breath like I do, Detective. It dominates me.
I do hope you find the bodies before anyone else. It’s only fitting. I will be immensely cross if that doesn’t happen. If it does happen, well, I’ll repay whoever is so stupid. Even that detective.
My collection is getting big. Xander says it’s scary, but I think it’s perfection. Only one more part left, John. The last one is a big one. I’ll just have to pray to the Lord.
N.
The letter crumbles in my hand. I know where one of the bodies is. The abandoned church near Xander’s school. It seems fitting, it’s near enough to be insulting to both me and Xander, and depraved enough for the sick bastard as well.
The religious words in both letters make me believe he’s somehow warped by his faith, but in my experience most of these types of cases are with the aid of religious influences.
A religious nut, that’s all I need.
I reach for my phone and dial Rowland.
The letter told me where I could also find the body within the church. At the centre of all Churches is the cross. My hunch is, all I need to find is the biggest one and I’ll find the body. What I don’t get is the part of the letter about my height.
Rowland answers on the third ring.
“What’s up?” His voice cracks with the drone of the road, that means he isn't home yet.
Jackpot.
“I’ve got something. Meet me at the old church on Taymount Rise,” I don’t wait to hear his reply. I’m already getting my car keys off the hook and opening the door.
I may have moved out of the Forest Hill area when I was twelve, but it will always be a part of my childhood. My mother worked two of the pubs in the town and a restaurant in the mornings. I knew the place like the back of my hand. And I knew the Church too.
The thing was old, like two hundred years or something. Tall, imposing. Made of mortared stone in the old fashion. Strong and unbreakable. Like their faith some will say. I don’t know about that. I don’t have any faith left.
In the darkness it looked as foreboding as a monster’s castle. Thankfully, I didn’t give a shit about monsters and the moon gives off another light to see by. But the torches help where it won’t. The street lights were never good even when I lived here.
Rowland opens the heavy oak door with barely a sound. The interior is shrouded in darkness and smells as hollow as it looks. With the aid of a torch, rubbish and the scattering of once used furniture comes into view. At one point in time squatters had ransacked the place.
We don’t have to look hard to find him. My hunch was right, the cross is the centre of the Church and he’s strapped to it. The man is around twenty years old, his hair was probably blond once but it’s so encrusted with dirt and mud it’s almost black. I can also see he taken two body parts this time. The man’s right leg and left arm. Whatever this fucking weirdo is doing with the parts is anyone’s guess. But I’m guessing it’s not good.
“He must have fought him pretty badly,” Rowland flashes the torch on the scratches up his neck and face. I pick off the woven crown of twigs and cast it at the wall angrily.
“We better call this one in,” I let the torch fall on Rowland’s chest so I don’t blind him.
“We?” I hear the irony in his voice. “I better ring this one in, you better leave. If Monroe turns up and you’re here, he’s gonna have a fucking field day.”
He isn’t wrong.
While Rowland works the perimeter I do a quick search of the body and find another finger. It’s a pinky, and it doesn’t belong to the man.
“That three,” I say, holding it up for Rowland to see. Then I place it in the metal box that holds the others fingers. It fits snugly in my inside pocket much to Rowland’s horror. His disgusted face pisses me off.
“They’re my sons.” I say, barely hiding the strained tension in my voice. Rowland says nothing in return, but instead turns away.
He dials his phone and moves off. It’s the chance I’ve been waiting for. Throughout the whole investigation I’ve hidden the fact that there are letters. I know full well if I tell Monroe or Rowland about them, I won’t see them again. It’s sick to say it, but the letters are like life lines to my son. In some weird way I can’t be apart from them. It’s like they still connect me to Xander.
The letter I find slips into my pocket next to the fingers. I glance up quickly. Rowland’s back is turned. I turn and make my way out the door with the feeling like a ghost is about to jump out on me. A few seconds later and Rowland joins me.
“Ok, Monroe will probably be here first light, but forensics are on the way, that gives you a chance to get out of here,” he pats me on the shoulder.
I forget how long we’ve worked together. I was already a veteran when he got partnered with me. A middle aged fool. Like him, my old partner’s partner was pensioned off when I joined the force. The lucky bastard had a full eleven years of my sorry old ass riding next to his.
“Thanks, Leon. I appreciate it.”
He nods and waves me away. “You just get some rest. If anything else comes up I’ll let you know.”
As I pop the car door to get in, Rowland calls out.
“I forgot to ask, how did you know where to find this body?”
I didn’t think this far ahead.
“Good old police work,” I call, and hope he can’t see through my lie. “And a lucky hunch,” I smile trying to calm my nerves. Luckily, Rowland’s cheeks rise and a non-committed chuckle falls out of his mouth as he turns back to his phone.
I swallow the growing dread inside. I really want to open the letter and see if this one gives any clue to where my son is being held, but I can’t risk it.
Not here.
Not now.
Part 3
submitted by granthinton to TheCrypticCompendium [link] [comments]


2020.10.21 17:13 deadislandman1 Cyborg #8 - Enhanced

DC Next presents:
CYBORG Issue eight: Enhanced
Written by Deadislandman1
Edited by AdamantAce and dwright5252
 
Next Issue > Coming November 18th
 
Arc: Terrible Machinations
 
 
“Ladies and Gentlemen! This crisis has gone on long enough!”
The sun sat smack dab in the middle of the sky as a man in a grey suit gave his speech upon a stage set up next to Detroit’s central square. A large crowd of people piled around the stage, listening to the man speak as security kept him safe, guarding every way onto the stage and keeping watch over the crowd. The man gestured with his hands, waving them about as he preached his impassioned word.
“For the better part of this year, the citizens of Detroit have been the victim of gangsters and petty thieves,” shouted the man. “While this city’s crime problem has always been a consistent issue, it has more recently been exasperated by the introduction of new weapons that outclass anything the police or even the military has at their disposal!”
Gazing over the rest of the crowd, who remained as attentive as could be, the speaker waved his hands over the people, “As the leader of this city, I promise to attend to the needs of the people. The common man is suffering underneath this overbearing problem and the so called heroes have failed to bring us those responsible! If I am elected, I will tackle this problem at its source! If we cut off specific resources from being imported into the city, we can prevent our culprit from receiving the materials to create his instruments of death.”
Staring into the crowd and taking in all the faces, the speaker continued, “Furthermore, seeing as the perpetrators are often in lower income neighborhoods, I plan to increase police presence in those areas as my first orde-”
SHOOM
In the blink of an eye, a purple blur tore across the sky, so fast that the guards couldn’t possibly react to it. As it flew high above the speaker, a massive beam of blue energy exploded from the blur, blowing the speaker’s chest open and sending hot blood everywhere. As the guards rushed to the body to see what they could salvage, more fanned out to search for the assassin as the crowd cried out in terror.
 
 
“Are you sure I can be out here without a disguise? The guards are all looking at me funny.”
“If I’m here, they won’t bother you. Just watch my back while I check the victim.”
Mister Terrific stood over the dead man’s body, attempting to analyze the wound as Victor Stone stood off to the side. The two had heard about the attack on the news, investigating since the weapon used bore similarities to that of Forger’s inventions. When they arrived, security seemed apprehensive about letting them check the body out, but being the smartest man alive meant that Terrific had special certifications when it came to this kind of thing. As Victor tapped his foot in anticipation, Terrific poked around the gaping hole in the man’s body, gauging how severe the damage was.
“Who was this guy even?” asked Victor, watching the streets as he waited for Terrific to finish, “From what the guards are saying, he was running for mayor.”
“Yeah, and unfortunately for him his policies were based entirely around attacking Forger’s supply lines,” said Terrific. “The fact that he was so open about it may have drummed up support, but it also painted a target on his back.”
“So the Forger took him out to keep his suppliers open?” asked Victor. “Wouldn’t something this public attract more attention?”
“Considering the fact that Forger bombed Holt Industries with people still inside, I don’t think he’s super interested in keeping a low profile,” said Terrific. “Everyone knows who he is, his tracks are just incredibly well hidden.”
“So all we’ve got to go on is the tech used by his enforcer,” said Victor, glancing at the body. “He did kill this guy, right?”
“Burn marks match the ones at the previous warehouse,” said Terrific, raising his hands and drawing an imaginary line between the corpse and the skyline, “And just like the enforcer, the attack was delivered from the sky by someone going at a high speed.”
Standing up, Terrific cracked his knuckles, turning to Victor as the guards continued to mill about the area, “The attack came from the west side of the city, with the killer exiting the scene moving eastward.”
“So they came from the west?” asked Victor.
“Maybe, but there’s also a possibility that they could have come in that way intentionally to mislead us,” said Terrific. “There are an infinite number of directions and ways that he could have gone.”
Victor stared at Terrific for a moment before raising his eyebrow, “Then how does analyzing this corpse help us?”
“Well,” said Terrific, “Having given the assailant’s combat style some thought, they seem to employ hit and run tactics. They come in hard and fast, take on and eliminate their target, then they get out fast. As far as I can tell, they like to rapidly ascend, make the hit, then descend into their little hiding space to limit any chances of a camera spotting them.”
Victor, still confused, scratched the back of his head as he gingerly asked, “So… again, how does that help?”
Terrific let out an audible groan, rubbing his eyes in frustration, “Listen, whoever Forger’s enforcer is, they have to have a place nearby that can be used to house their equipment. If they wanted to get into the air, kill this guy, then get back down without anyone seeing them, then they would have to start and end from somewhere in this city, specifically, a place that doesn’t see that many people.”
Terrific pulled a map of the city out of his jacket, unraveling it so that Victor could have a look at it. Peering over the map, Victor noticed two spots on the map that have had a circle drawn over them with a marker, located on opposite ends of the city.
“These are the broad areas I’ve narrowed down for the killer’s place of operations,” said Terrific, “And If we’re lucky, the Forger will be there too.”
Victor observed the map, taking mental notes as to where the circles were, but a question still plagued his mind, “That’s great but...Why didn’t you do this earlier?”
“Because the enforcer, and by extension Forger, weren’t this sloppy,” said Terrific, a glint in his eyes. “I’m not entirely sure whether or it’s your arrival or my continued efforts that caused it, but clearly cracks are starting to show. We just need to keep pushing and we’ll get the bastard.”
Terrific pointed at one circle, “You take this spot, I’ll take the other.”
“Wait! I still look like...this!” said Victor, gesturing at himself, “I need you with me so people won’t freak out!”
“It’ll be fine, you’re a tough guy. You’ll make it through OK,” said Terrific, seemingly unconcerned as he left the map in Victor’s hands before turning around. “Keep the map, I’ve already memorized everything on it, including the circle.”
Before Victor could protest further, Terrific marched off, leaving Cyborg alone as he dejectedly glanced back at the map, attempting to figure out where he was at that moment.
[I detect increased stress levels. Is there anything I can do to help?]
‘Nope,’ thought Victor, ‘like it or not, I’m just gonna have to tough this out, for dad.’
 
 
As much as he loathed the idea of taking a tour of the city without a disguise, Victor couldn’t help but appreciate the little details that Detroit had to offer. The less polished streets may have been a little grungier than the facelifted downtown, but it still had an unusual yet well intentioned heart. Early afternoon runners jogged their way down the city sidewalks, running laps around the block as the sweat ran off their skin. Off in the parking lot of a bar, a man in a brightly colored food truck sliced up a potato into curls before tossing them into a deep fryer, shaking the handle of the fryer basket to prevent the food from sticking to the bottom. A young girl skipped out of a barber shop, her hair arranged to her exact liking as the barber waved her goodbye. The place, despite lacking the elegance of the main city, was far from unwelcoming.
Victor nervously walked down the road, keeping one eye on the map as he crossed an intersection on his way to the search area. As bad as it was that he had to go without a disguise, he wasn’t getting as much of a visceral reaction as he did in New Mexico. Other than a few offhanded stares of confusion, nobody seemed blatantly disgusted or horrified by his appearance. As he rounded a corner, a sort of static noise began to blare in his ears, prompting a groan from Victor.
Looks like Exxy was checking in.
“Hey man…>Munch<...how’s the search goin?” said Exxy, shoveling something into his mouth and chewing obnoxiously between words, “It’s pretty boring on my end. None of the drones are picking anything up.”
“The search is going...ok. Not gonna lie, I feel a little naked out here without my hoodie,” said Victor.
“How do you feel naked? You don’t even have enough skin to land an indecent exposure charge,” said Exxy, chewing on another glob of food, “Trust me, I’ve got experience. >Munch<
“Can you quit it with the potato chips?” Victor asked, cringing, “At least move away from the mic when you...wait, you’ve got experience?”
“Uuuuuuh! Nevermind!” stuttered Exxy, who now desperately wanted to change the subject, “In other news, how are things with Terrific?”
Victor let out an annoyed growl, “Honestly, he’s still been a massive ass.”
“It’s like I’ve been sayin’, he’s probably been through some rough shit,” said Exxy. “I know I’m not in the field with him like you are, but it might be a good idea to just...give him a chance?”
“It’s tough when he’s being such a hardass,” said Victor, glancing at an alley across the street, “It’d help if he was less….”
Victor trailed off and shook his head abruptly, doing a double take at what he was seeing across the street. Exxy, noticing the pause, immediately became confused, “Uh...less what? Smart? Condescending?”
“I’m...gonna have to call you back Exxy,” said Victor. “Something’s come up.”
“Something’s come up? This isn’t some business call, it’s a covert mission!” piped Exxy, “Besides, the comms are in your brain, how do you even hang u-”
As if on queue, Exxy’s voice cut out, prompting a smirk from Victor, ‘Thanks V.’
[You are welcome...Victor.]
Turning his attention back towards the situation on the other side of the street, Victor nervously shuffled across, getting closer to the scene at hand.
They were kids, kids with limbs made not of flesh, but of metal and wire. Some were fairly easy to see, like the boy with strange misshapen legs, who’s bottom half ended not with feet, but with a simple arced spring. He bounced about like a kangaroo, getting about fifteen feet into the air on his highest jump before the mechanical legs absorbed the landing. Other kids had smaller but still somewhat noticeable features, like a girl hanging out in the background, her blue iris’ glinting against green pupils, a deviation from the standard white.
But the kid who had Victor’s real attention was a boy with a highly noticeable metal arm and eye. The eye seemed to dart about, independent of the boy’s other eye as it scanned the area with a purple glow, while the arm, while somewhat spindly with exposed wires, looked as if it could bend steel.
Or crush skulls.
As the boy strolled over to the rest of the group, he slipped a backpack off his person, zipping it open and pulling out what looked to be a brick. As the rest of the kids gathered around him, the boy gained a devilish smile as he applied pressure to the brick, watching it crack and fracture before violently breaking apart. As the remaining shards peppered the ground, the rest of the group cheered with glee, high and giddy on the power trip of it all.
As Victor moved within the kid’s earshot, he addressed them, hoping to probe into how they came to be this way, “Hey!”
The children whirled around, taking in Victor in all his glory as they gasped in shock, mouths agape in surprise. The boy who crushed the brick, now shaking with excitement, rushed up to Victor, tapping his metal carapace, “Hol-ee shit! The Machinist must have given you the full treatment!”
“The...Machinist?” said Victor, confused. He’d never heard this name before.
“You know, the Machinist!” said the boy, “Everyone here got a tune up from him.” Lifting his arm, the boy compared it to Victor’s, “Though...yours are another level!”
“Woah, woah, woah!” said Victor, “So there’s some guy named the Machinist...Giving out operations that replace parts of your body with mechanical ones...for free?”
“Yeah! He called it a taste test,” said the boy, enthusiastically gesturing with his hands, “Said that better parts and designs were available for a price. Guess you had the dough to pay for the best!”
Somebody in this city was cutting off and replacing bodily limbs with robotic appendages, all for free? Not only was the act itself incredibly disturbing to Victor, as even the young were not turned away from this horrible sort of cybernetic mutilation, but what made it even worse were the implications concerning him.
Here he was, a product of cybernetics, and now there was a man who dealt specifically in that area, in the city where STAR Labs disappeared alongside any trace of his father. Victor began to draw lines between the two in his head, searching for any kind of connection between them. While it would be foolish to jump to conclusions, the question that propped itself up in his mind now needed a definitive answer.
Did this Machinist build him? Was he the man who created GRID, who kidnapped his father?
[Victor...Someone is attempting to contact you.]
‘Not now.’ thought Victor.
[It is the one known as Mister Terrific.]
‘Shit,’ thought Victor, ‘Fine, patch him through.’
Finding himself interrupted, Victor groaned as Terrific’s voice began to echo within his mind.
“V….Vic…..Victor!” piped Terrific, “I found the enforcer’s hiding spot. Come to West 3rd Street in the industrial area of the city.”
Acknowledging Terrific, Victor turned to the kids, “Sorry guys, I’ve gotta go. Just...stay out of trouble!”
Turning around, Victor began to job towards Terrific’s location, leaving the kids to their own devices. As he disappeared out of sight, a notification suddenly popped up on the kids’ phones. Checking them, they all smiled devilishly, realizing that the moment of truth was upon them.
The hunt had begun.
 
 
The sun had begun to set on Motown as Victor shuffled down the back alley, making his way towards Terrific’s location. The possibility that the answers to his lingering questions continued to dance along the surface of his brain, seducing him with their easy allure. Stalking one of the corners of the ratty alleyway, Victor spotted Terrific hiding underneath an apartment window, ushering Victor over as the two crept around beneath the building.
“That’s it,” said Terrific, pointing at a window around four stories up, “That’s our guy’s base of operations.”
Victor looked at the apartament with skepticism, “Really? It seems a little...out in the open.”
“That’s the idea.”
The two heroes whirled around, glancing upward into the sky only to find a woman in a black and purple getup floating above them on a hoverboard. The gauntlets on her wrists emanated violent, volatile yellow energy, lashing out at the air as she stared down at the two through red tinted glasses, “Don’t bother trying to catch me, in a minute I’ll be miles away.”
Terrific’s eyes widened, “You?! You’re Forger’s enforcer?”
The woman raised her eyebrow, “Huh, didn’t expect the great Mister Terrific to recognize me.” She cracks her neck, stretching her arms as she continues to float above the two, “Black Narcissus must be becoming a household name.”
“No, I just...” Terrific pauses, unassuredness written all over his face. Victor had never seen the hero so conflicted, and considering the fact that he’s always radiated an aura of confidence and smartassery, that meant that he had some kind of significant connection to this Black Narcissus. Shrugging off his hesitation, Terrific returns to a determined state of mind, boldly staring back up at Narcissus, “Nevermind, it doesn’t matter. We know you serve the Forger, tell us where he is and we won’t have to fight you.”
“If you want to meet the Forger, then just head upstairs into the apartament,” said Black Narcissus, floating over to the window and opening it so she could slip inside. “He’s been trying to reach you for a while.”
As she disappeared from their view, Victor and Terrific glanced at one another in uncertainty. This was certainly a very different approach when compared to what they faced last month, which made the whole ordeal even more suspicious than it already was. Regardless, the two begrudgingly walked into the apartament complex through a backdoor, trudging up the stairs towards the apartament.
Even if this was a trap, it was two on one in an enclosed space. She stood no chance.
 
 
Piling into the apartament, Victor and Terrific were met with a surprisingly barren room, save for a large monitor fashioned against the wall. Narcissus leaned against one of the walls next to the window, watching the two with caution, “Remember, try anything and It’ll go as well for you as it did last time.”
“Last time you caught us off guard,” said Victor, “That won’t happen again.”
“Where is he?” questioned Terrific, directing his statement at Narcissus, “Where is the Forger?”
“He’s right here,” said Narcissus, glancing at the monitor. As Terrific gazed at the empty screen, it suddenly lit up, displaying a live video of a man in an expertly crafted mask. The mask, made from some sort of black material, was peppered with lights on specific parts, forming constantly shifting digital images that layered on top of the mask.
Terrific clenched his fists, anger boiling within him as he glared at the Forger, “Really? Through a fucking monitor?”
“Hello Mister Terrific...” said the Forger, his voice distorted to the point that it was impossible to gauge who it was, “You must understand, I am only meeting this way because I fear you’ll break some of my bones if we were to see each other in person.”
“You’re damn right about that,” growled Terrific, “You’ve been trying to kill me for months. Why the cordiality? Why now?”
“Despite what you may think, my attempts to remove you from the field are not personal,” said the Forger. “Truth be told, I actually admire you a great deal. You’ve achieved so much despite likely starting so disadvantaged, and you’ve risen to the top of the heroic food chain in many respects. In many ways, you were my inspiration.”
Terrific continued to glare at the screen, “Skip the hollow pleasantries and get to the point. What do you want?”
Forger sighed, “I want us to enter a truce for the time being, to have a break in the action.”
“And why would I do that?” asked Terrific, bitter rage in his voice.
“Because we have a common enemy.” The screen flashed, revealing a man in a strange metallic mask, “This is the Machinist. He has recently made himself at home in this city, selling cybernetic enhancements to criminals who would do harm to the people. I propose that we deal with this threat together, for the well being of-”
“Shut it.”
Terrific stared at the monitor with an even more intimidating glare, “Don’t bother trying to convince me that we should join sides because this man is the greater of two evils. I’ve seen some of his work around, stopped it when necessary, but his presence does not excuse you for what you did. Your weapons have destroyed corner stores, bombed industry towers, and made this city more dangerous than it’s ever been. As far as I’m concerned, you’re both scum, and you’re both going to prison for the rest of your lives.”
After his passionate and angry speech, Terrific could only watch as Forger let out another disappointed sigh, “It seems you’re smart enough to predict what I’m to say, yet you’re too stupid to make the right choice. We could end this brewing conflict before it begins, but you’re far too self righteous to put away your pride and do the right thing. Remember this conversion Terrific, it will be a sore reminder when you realize you’ve fucked everything up.”
The video shuts off abruptly, leaving Terrific and Victor alone to their own thoughts. Whirling around, Victor realized that Narcissus had slipped out while they were talking with Terrific. Shaking in anger, Terrific let out a roar before punching a hole through the monitor, watching it fall to the ground in pieces as Victor put a hand on his shoulder, “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” said Terrific.
As the two prepared to leave, a small group of kids, the same that Victor had met earlier, crept towards the apartment door, cybernetic limbs at the ready. As they got closer and closer, the leader, the boy with a mechanical arm, took hold of the doorknob, preparing to break it off so that he and his friends could charge inside.
Tonight was the night it happened. Tonight was the night they killed Mister Terrific.
 
Next Issue: Cyber showdown - Coming November 18th
 
submitted by deadislandman1 to DCNext [link] [comments]


2020.10.20 20:56 NotFamous307 How Among Us proves the Bystander effect theory

The bystander effect,is a social psychological) theory that states that individuals are less likely to offer help to a victim when there are other people present. First proposed in 1968, much research, has focused on increasingly varied factors, such as the number of bystander, group cohesiveness, and diffusion of responsibility that reinforces mutual denial. The theory was prompted by the murder of Kitty Genovese about which it was wrongly reported that 38 bystanders watched passively.
Recent events captured on security cameras, and the coherency and robustness of the effect has come under question. Until a video game would prove the theory correct. Enter the surprise indie game sensation of 2020 - Among Us.
Among Us is an online sci-fi murder-mystery game created by a small development team called Innersloth, It was originally released back in 2018, but didn’t really have many players for the first 2 years of it’s existence. That’s changed a lot in the last few months. The game has blown up, and is perhaps the most talked about and played game of 2020. The game is set on a spaceship base (and other a few other maps) which contains a group of crew members where there is, among them, an imposter who has to sabotage the base and kill everyone. Everyone else (the crewmates) has to complete their chosen tasks, report bodies of dead Crewmates, and initiate emergency meetings if they witness an impostor doing something incriminating. You would think that the Crew would almost always win since they by far out number the imposter, but in reality that’s not how it works.
I’ve witnessed firsthand. In a recent game I was working with the crew to complete tasks when the Imposter sabotoged the ship’s 02 supply. When this happens, the crew has a small amount of time to fix the issue - or else they all die. It’s a very simple thing to fix and there is more then enough time to do… In this game, nobody did and we lost.
What happened there?
I didn’t rush to fix the 02 because I was close to a task on my list. I assumed that somebody else on my team would fix it and we would be fine. After completing my own task I realized that nobody had fixed the sabotaged 02, we were in trouble with time running out. I begin to sprint down the halls to reach the room where the fix would take place. During this time I saw others still working on their own selfish tasks. We had all assumed that somebody would fix the issue and so we didn’t need to worry about taking action. And none of us did…
We all died, the imposter had won.
Among Us is a video game, sure… but it is also a large science experiment and one that proves the theory of the Bystander Effect to a tee. The psychological dynamic of working as a team to solve problems can really be explored here and for that I think the game has a lot of hidden potential.
I look closer at my theory here but would love to see it further explored on Game Theory someday! https://youtu.be/rykIeDfF91w
submitted by NotFamous307 to GameTheorists [link] [comments]


2020.10.20 20:48 NotFamous307 Hidden camera changing room videos

How Among Us proves the Bystander effect theory
The bystander effect,is a social psychological) theory that states that individuals are less likely to offer help to a victim when there are other people present. First proposed in 1968, much research, has focused on increasingly varied factors, such as the number of bystander, group cohesiveness, and diffusion of responsibility that reinforces mutual denial. The theory was prompted by the murder of Kitty Genovese about which it was wrongly reported that 38 bystanders watched passively.
Recent events captured on security cameras, and the coherency and robustness of the effect has come under question. Until a video game would prove the theory correct. Enter the surprise indie game sensation of 2020 - Among Us.
Among Us is an online sci-fi murder-mystery game created by a small development team called Innersloth, It was originally released back in 2018, but didn’t really have many players for the first 2 years of it’s existence. That’s changed a lot in the last few months. The game has blown up, and is perhaps the most talked about and played game of 2020. The game is set on a spaceship base (and other a few other maps) which contains a group of crew members where there is, among them, an imposter who has to sabotage the base and kill everyone. Everyone else (the crewmates) has to complete their chosen tasks, report bodies of dead Crewmates, and initiate emergency meetings if they witness an impostor doing something incriminating. You would think that the Crew would almost always win since they by far out number the imposter, but in reality that’s not how it works.
I’ve witnessed firsthand. In a recent game I was working with the crew to complete tasks when the Imposter sabotoged the ship’s 02 supply. When this happens, the crew has a small amount of time to fix the issue - or else they all die. It’s a very simple thing to fix and there is more then enough time to do… In this game, nobody did and we lost.
What happened there?
I didn’t rush to fix the 02 because I was close to a task on my list. I assumed that somebody else on my team would fix it and we would be fine. After completing my own task I realized that nobody had fixed the sabotaged 02, we were in trouble with time running out. I begin to sprint down the halls to reach the room where the fix would take place. During this time I saw others still working on their own selfish tasks. We had all assumed that somebody would fix the issue and so we didn’t need to worry about taking action. And none of us did…
We all died, the imposter had won.
Among Us is a video game, sure… but it is also a large science experiment and one that proves the theory of the Bystander Effect to a tee. The psychological dynamic of working as a team to solve problems can really be explored here and for that I think the game has a lot of hidden potential.
I look closer at my theory here but would love to see it further explored on Game Theory someday! https://youtu.be/rykIeDfF91w
submitted by NotFamous307 to GAMETHEORY [link] [comments]


2020.10.20 14:10 MarkDMill Hidden camera changing room videos

Today I searched over 500 deals and curated the best 22 for you. I saved you from seeing 470+ junk deals--if you appreciate that, would you support this site on Patreon (and get some bonuses for you too!)?
Amazon Tech Deals for 10/20 ⠀ - Today's Amazon tech deals include:

  • New Apple Watch Series 6: ($24 off)
  • Belkin Thunderbolt 3 Dock Pro: ($50 off)
  • Unitek 12 in 1 USB C hub: (48% off, save $46)
  • Anker Powerhouse Portable Rechargeable Generator: (15% off, save $34)
  • Apple 1TB SSD Kit: ($185 off)
  • Apple 2TB SSD Kit: ($213 off)
    *
    Prices subject to change, so check MDM Deals to see pics, full info, current prices, & links.
  • Platinum Leather Case for Apple AirPods - Cushion your AirPods from damage with this Platinum brown leather case. The rich brown top-grain leather wrap protects from impacts, increasing durability, and the precise cutouts provide access to the setup button, charge port and LED indicator for simplified operation. This Platinum brown leather case closes securely for maximum protection, and the thin profile allows for seamless wireless charging.; recommended. 66% off, was $29, now $9.99!
  • iWriter 📱 - Simple and elegant text editor if you want to write an article or take a note. Key features: - No subscription required. - Minimalistic distraction-free interface. - iCloud sync for iPad and iPhone. - Search and Replace within text. - Customizable fonts and themes. - Automatic numbebullet list continuations; recommended; avg 4.3/5 stars (4 ratings); 67% off, was $2.99, now $0.99!
  • Video Baby Monitor 📱 - With Video Baby Monitor app you can monitor your baby if you are in another room or anywhere in your house. Simple connect two devices to the same Wi-Fi network. Use one of them as streaming device and another as watching device. And it is all. Now you can watch the baby all the time and be sure that everything is fine with child; avg 4.9/5 stars (75 ratings); was $4.99, now free!
  • Hipstamatic Classic 📱 - Hipstamatic is a world-class photography app and Apple’s original App of the Year! Shoot beautiful authentic photography and become part of the world’s most creative community, exclusively on iPhone; recommended; avg 4.8/5 stars (3,600+ ratings); 80% off, was $4.99, now $0.99!
  • Pholorize: Colorize Old Photo 📱 - Pholorize is a perfect photo editing app which colorizes old black and white photos automatically with the help of AI.; avg 4.2/5 stars (370+ ratings); was $5.99, now free!
  • Logo, Card & Design Creator 📱 - Whether you are a startup or have an established business, you’ll need a great logo design to attract sales, get your business off the ground and market your product and services. With Logo and Designs Creator you can instantly browse 1000's of innovative and stylish logo designs, customize text, fonts and colors to create a logo that fits your brand perfectly. You can make an effective design to get your message heard in just a few simple clicks.; avg 4.3/5 stars (91 ratings); 50% off, was $1.99, now $0.99!
  • CurrencyCam 📱 - Robust currency converter. Just point the camera scanner or use the Snapshot, CurrencyCam does the rest. Our special algorithms automatically detect all global currency formats so it can be used in any country with ease; avg 4.4/5 stars (180+ ratings); was $7.99, now free!
  • Shadowmatic 📱 - Apple Design Award WinnerApp Store Best of 2015 Shadowmatic is an imagination-stirring puzzle where you rotate abstract objects in a spotlight to find recognizable silhouettes in projected shadows, relevant to the surrounding environment; highly recommended; avg 4.8/5 stars (1,500+ ratings); 50% off, was $3.99, now $1.99!
  • Tweak and Tuneup 💻 - Cleanup and Optimizer AppDownload it and save gigabytes of Disk Space by removing unwanted files Tweak and Tuneup is a collection of massive powerful tools to enhance the performance of your Mac; avg 4/5 stars (250+ ratings); was $3.99, now free!
  • Disk Clean Pro 💻 - Disk Clean Pro Remove hidden clutter from your Mac Disk Clean Pro helps you remove junk from your Mac. It cleans your Mac safely and securely without risking your important data; avg 5/5 stars (990+ ratings); was $4.99, now free!
  • Captivate Deluxe (📔) - A business & personal finance ebook by Vanessa Van Edwards. Highly recommended. 88% off, was $16.99, now $1.99!. The deluxe eBook edition of CAPTIVATE includes twelve exclusive videos from author Vanessa Van Edwards, where she gives tips on storytelling, using hand gestures to build rapport, recognizing non-verbal cues, decoding micro-expressions, and more.
  • The Bad Beginning (📔) - A fiction ebook by Lemony Snicket. 83% off, was $11.99, now $1.99!. SOON TO BE A NETFLIX ORIGINAL SERIES Are you made fainthearted by death? Does fire unnerve you? Is a villain something that might crop up in future nightmares of yours? Are you thrilled by nefarious plots? Is cold porridge upsetting to you? Vicious threats? Hooks? Uncomfortable clothing? It is likely that your answers will reveal A Series of Unfortunate Events to be ill-suited for your personal use. A librarian, bookseller, or acquaintance should be able to suggest books more appropriate for your fragile temperament. But to the rarest of readers we say, Proceed, but cautiously. .
    Amazon Tech Deals for 10/20 ⠀ - Today's Amazon tech deals include:
    *
    Prices subject to change, so check MDM Deals to see pics, full info, current prices, & links.
  • Blood, Sweat, and Pixels (🎧) - A games audiobook by Jason Schreier. 71% off, was $16.99, now $4.99!. Developing video games—hero's journey or fool's errand? The creative and technical logistics that go into building today's hottest games can be more harrowing and complex than the games themselves, often seeming like an endless maze or a bottomless abyss.
    Did you know I rely on people like you to keep this site up and running? Would you Buy Me a Coffee?
submitted by MarkDMill to MDMDeals [link] [comments]


2020.10.18 16:41 KillerBlaze9 Hidden camera changing room videos

I am posting this story online in hopes that someone out there hears what I have to say and believes me. My name is Ben Shapiro. I live an ordinary life in the United States. Like most people I own a lot of libs, but I also own a lot of video games. That’s right. Video games. I try not to talk about it much, but my favorite video game franchise is Sonic the Hedgehog. It’s extremely popular among conservative talk show hosts for some reason.
But if we talk about it publicly, we are ostracized. Remember when Glenn Beck was kicked off Fox News? That’s because of his segment on why Sonic is better than Mario. So we try to keep quiet about our love of Sonic. But one of my favorite pastimes is to collect rare and obscure Sonic games. I own at least three Sonic pachinko machines and even own a signed copy of Sonic Dreams Collection. I will often go to flea markets or garage sales looking for vintage Sonic games and other merchandise. I have spent approximately sixty five thousand dollars on Sonic media, including a very expensive commission of a drawing of me hanging out with Sonic and Knuckles at Six Flags. But that was far from the biggest price I ever paid for Sonic. No. That day came just a few weeks ago when my wife, who is a doctor by the way, and I walked into a Gamestop. The building itself was decrepit and disgusting. The lights flickered grimly, and half the shelves were basked in darkness. The whole place reeked of body odor. There was a sullen look of despair on the face of every single person there. There was truly a depressing presence hanging over every inch of that place. In other words, it looked like a perfectly ordinary looking Gamestop. But it wasn’t. This Gamestop housed a truly eldritch horror that I was unknowingly about to welcome into my life. There was, of course, the standard affair of PlayStation and Xbox games. Nothing too exciting. I had no interest in Red Dead Redemption 2 or Sekiro, Shadows Die Twice. I have no interest in normie trash like that. Eventually, a display case in a dark corner of the store caught my eye. Now we are talking. My wife, Dr. Shapiro, and I sauntered over to the counter for a closer look. There were some random Gameboy and PlayStation games. But what really surprised me was a CD with the words Sonic Adventure 2 written on it in black sharpie. The Gamestop clerk walked over to us. “Is there anything I can help you with?” she asked, her horrible breath wafting into my face. “Yes,” I said. “What is the deal with this copy of Sonic Adventure 2?” The woman scratched her head. “If I remember correctly, some crazy lunatic brought that game in. He said it was haunted.” “Really?” I asked. She replied. “Look, I don’t fucking know. Now do you want it or not?” “I’ll take it!” I exclaimed. My wife paid for the game and we quickly exited the store. On the way home, I explained to my wife that Sonic Adventure 2 for the Sega Dreamcast is far superior to the Nintendo GameCube port. The GameCube port was horribly butchered. You would think the port was done by Democrats. Yes, it’s that bad. When we finally got home, I dusted off my old Sega to give my new game a try. The game started up perfectly normally. I breezed through the main menu and went to story mode. Hero and Dark story were both already available as usual. But I noticed another story. Hell story. I could not recall there being a Hell story when I first played Sonic Adventure 2. So that seemed a little odd. But I was too excited to play some Sonic to think about it for very long. I selected Hero story and was presented with the opening cutscene of Sonic jumping out of a helicopter. The first level City Escape started up and I felt a rush of excitement. My only complaint with this level is the lack of homeless people scattered throughout the streets. This is clearly supposed to be San Fancisco, and we all know that liberal run cities are a hotbed of homelessness and poverty. No wonder Sonic is trying to escape from the city. Because liberal run cities are awful and I hate them. It had been a while since I played Sonic Adventure 2, but had little trouble handling the blue blur. I guess you could say I am a bit of a professional gamer. I quickly made it to the chase sequence with the semi truck. But I noticed that there appeared to be realistic human screaming whenever the truck ran over the cars on the sides of the road. It sounded a lot like how some people scream when I own them with facts and logic. Sonic was then cornered by a GUN agent inside a robot called Big Foot. But every time Sonic hit the cockpit, the pilot would scream out in pain and call for his family. Once I defeated him, the robot exploded and realistic chunks of blood and guts rained down over the battlefield. I didn’t remember any of this from previous playthroughs, but sometimes even extremely smart Harvard graduates like me forget one or two things. Then my favorite Sonic the Hedgehog character appeared. Shadow the Hedgehog. I was so excited that my voice almost raised by half a decibel. I know all the words to this scene so well that I was mouthing along with the characters. Except there was one problem. Shadow is supposed to say “My name is Shadow. I'm the world's ultimate life form! There's no time for games. Farewell.” Instead he said this. “My name is Shadow, and your days are numbered, Ben Shapiro.” I have been threatened at least sixty times in my life, but never by a cartoon hedgehog. Needless to say, this was quite unusual. Is it possible that the big tiddy goth girl who worked at Gamestop was telling the truth? Was there some kind of evil force locked away inside the disc spinning around inside my Dreamcast? Or maybe that half a Bud Light I drank was really getting to me. I decided to keep a level head and push onward. The next few levels went by without too much trouble. I’ve always been a fan of the Knuckles and Tails levels. I have watched a lot of YouTube videos of people saying these levels are not as good. But those people are morons. You heard me, morons. Anyway, I made it to the scene where Amy breaks Sonic out of Guantanamo Bay. I love this scene. Sonamy is easily my favorite ship. They have such great chemistry. Seriously, do not try to tell me that Sonic belongs with Sally Acorn, or Princess Elise, or Big the Cat. Amy is his one true love. I’m sorry, but hedgehog marriage should be between a hedgehog and a hedgehog. Otherwise, the entire society of Mobius would collapse. I have done quite a bit of research on this so do not even bother trying to debate me in the threads. Getting back to the game. I noticed something a little strange during the Guantanamo Bay cut scene. In the jail cell are copious amounts of notes written by Gerald Robotnik. But I noticed a different note sprawled along the wall in hyper realistic blood. It said “I’m coming for you Ben Shapiro.” I had no idea what to make of this. Was this some kind of visual glitch? Sonic Adventure 2 is a pretty old game, after all. It was at this point that I was getting very tired. I had a busy day of talking about how all people on Medicaid are freeloaders ahead of me and I needed my beauty rest. I turned off the Dreamcast, got up to stretch and made my way for the bathroom until I heard a faint whisper. A faint whisper that shook me to my very core. It said “Hey I’ll play with you some other time!” And it almost sounded like Sonic. It sounded somewhat like Ryan Drummond, but there was a hint of Jaleel White. Maybe a touch of Jason Griffith and a splash of Roger Craig Smith. Also there was some Martin Burke and Ben Schwartz too, as well as Jaleel White. I immediately wet myself. Possibly out of fear, or possibly because I have poor control of my bladder, or possibly both. I put on my jammies and hopped into bed with Doctor Shapiro, who is also my wife by the way. I tossed and turned for several hours. Sleep eluded me. My mind was racing with thoughts about what had just happened. Am I going crazy? “No. You are not going crazy.” The voice came from the foot of my bed. I looked up and saw Reggie Fils-Aimé, the former C.E.O. of Nintendo, standing over me. “You are not crazy,” he said in a calm voice. “You are in terrible danger.” “What are you doing here?” I asked Reggie Fils-Aimé. “You are on the board of directors at Gamestop. Aren’t you busy trying to keep your company from going bankrupt?” “That is why I am here.” Reggie’s voice boomed throughout the room. “Customer service is very important to me. And I fear that you are in trouble of having bad customer service. You see, the video game you purchased from Gamestop is haunted. If you are not careful, you could meet a grizzly fate.” I was very annoyed that Reggie was talking to me this way. “Listen here Reggie,” I said in a stern voice. “If you don’t get out of my house I will grab my shotgun and make you leave.” Reggie chuckled. “HA HA HA HA! You don’t understand. I am not in your house.” Reggie snapped his fingers. The walls and floor of my bedroom began to dissolve. I turned to my wife. Doctor Mor Shapiro, but she was already gone. It was just Reggie and I alone in a dark void. I looked over to Reggie, who had a smug grin on his face. “What are you?” I asked in disbelief. Reggie walked closer. “Do you really think they let anyone be the C.E.O. of Nintendo? Absolutely not. My powers far exceed those of any human. Including you, Ben Shapiro. So I think it’s about time you started treating me with respect. And if you don’t listen to me now, things could end very badly for you, my friend.” Reggie Fils-Aimé was right. “Well then spit it out!” I said. “What is going to happen to me?” Reggie snapped his fingers again. We were transported to a living room covered in blood. Forensics teams were taking pictures. I looked over and saw two men kneeled over by the television. The screen was broken, and an overturned Sega Dreamcast was next to it. “I can’t believe it!” One of the men said. “It appears to be some kind of quill. Like from a hedgehog. But it’s blue.” “That is impossible!'' The second man shouted. “Hedgehogs are not blue, dumbass.” “Would you just shut up and let me do my job, dickhole?” The two men faded away, along with the rest of the gruesome scene. “Do you understand now?” Reggie asked. “If you keep playing that game, you will be killed.” My hands were shaking. My lips were trembling. My throat was a little scratchy. “Was this really the work of Sonic the Hedgehog?” I asked. “I’m afraid so.” Reggie sighed. “I can’t believe Sonic would do this.” I started sobbing. Reggie patted me on the back. “It’s not that surprising, honestly. Sonic has always been a bad boy.” “What am I supposed to play now?” I asked. “How can I go on without Sonic.” Reggie comforted me. “It’s okay. I’ll tell you what. Super Mario 3D All Stars is now on sale. I can put one aside for you to pick up at Gamestop tomorrow.” I froze. Suddenly, everything became clear to me. I chuckled. “You just overplayed your hand, Reggie boy.” “What are you talking about?” Reggie said defensively. “Don’t you want to play Super Mario 64 with updated HUD sprites?” I laughed in Reggie’s face. “So this was all a ruse to trick me into denouncing Sonic? You have some impressive powers, magic man. But it will take more than that to fool Ben Shapiro.” Reggie’s face turned red. “Listen to me!” he shouted. “Sonic the Hedgehog is a murderer. You are doomed if you keep playing that game.” I laughed even harder. “Oh yeah, and is Master Chief a pedophile?” Reggie fell silent. “Alright, Ben. If you want to keep playing that game, I won’t stop you. But I hope your body is ready. I hope it is ready to experience pain and agony like you have never known before. I hope your mind and spirit are prepared for the wrath of Sonic. Very few people are more powerful than me. Doug Bowser, Shigeru Miyamoto, the Nostalgia Critic. But Sonic is very close. You won’t be able to beat him on your own. So if you need help, just call out to me. And I’ll be there.” I rolled my eyes. “God, you are more annoying than Alexandria Ocasio Cortez. Just get me out of here already.” Reggie Fils-Aimé stood silently for a moment. I could see the conflict in his face. Perhaps he was being honest. Or maybe he was upset that he couldn’t trick me. It did not matter at this point. I love Sonic, and it is impossible for anyone to change that. Reggie snapped his fingers one last time. I was suddenly back in bed, sweat running down my brow. Was it all just a dream? I calmed myself down. Alright Ben, let’s think about this factually and logically. Reggie Fils-Aimé does not have magic powers. Super Mario 3D All Stars is a lazy port and a rip off. Hedgehogs do not actually exist. I went to the bathroom and splashed some water on my face. When I turned off the tap, I heard music off in the distance. I would know that music anywhere. It was the song my wife and I danced to during our wedding. It was the menu theme of Sonic Adventure 2. Also my wife is a doctor. I stumbled, half asleep into the living room. Sure enough, Sonic Adventure 2 was on the television. Silly me. I must have forgotten to turn it off. I stepped towards the game console, then stopped. After that nightmare, it might be better to stay up for a while. What harm could there be in that. I sat down on the couch, grabbed the controller and set my gaze on the television screen, which illuminated the dark room with comforting, familiar light. The game was already on the story select screen. The cursor hovered over that mysterious third game mode, Hell Story. I’m not sure what provoked me to select that option. Was it simply curiosity? Or was it some kind of self hatred? Was I trying to prove something? Even on the other side of all this, I’m still not sure. What goes through a man’s mind while he is ruining his life? Is any thought justified? All my accolades and knowledge. Is it all worthless in the face of one stupid act? Hell Story started off with a cutscene of Dr. Eggman. I love Dr. Eggman. Shadow might be my favorite, but Eggman is the character I relate to. Amazing physique, incredibly high IQ, completely misunderstood. Dr. Eggman also reminds me of my wife for some reason. I’m not sure why. But something was clearly very wrong with Eggman in this cutscene. He was sitting alone on the floor of the Space Colony ARK, sobbing quietly to himself. “Please!” He cried. “Don’t do it. I’ll put my evil past behind me. I will never defame the moon again. I’ll return the Chaos Emeralds. Just please. Don’t. kill. Me.” Eggman’s words were trembling at this point. Suddenly another figure came into view. It was Sonic the Hedgehog. And he was holding a gun. “Sorry Eggman, but I can’t let you live any longer.” Sonic cocked his gun. “Now get a load of this.” The screen went dark. Bang. I couldn’t believe it. Doctor Eggman was fucking dead. A loading screen popped up for the first level. It was a Knuckles level. It was called Escape Pod. I had to collect three keys to unlock the door to the escape bay of the space colony. There was also a time limit of eleven minutes and thirty four seconds. The level was actually quite fun. I even felt like a kid again. But Sonic’s voice would frequently come over the intercom. “I’m coming to get you, Knuckles.” “You are running out of time. And then you are next, Ben Shapiro.” This put a bit of a damper on my experience but I still really enjoyed the level. The next level was a Tails level. I had to make it to the escape pod that I had unlocked as Knuckles. The strangest thing about this level was that there were no enemies or music. It was just Tails walking through a dark and lonely spaceship. It reminded me of my last birthday party. Sonic would come over the intercom in this level too. He said such awful things. “I am going to kill you Tails.” “You are dead Tails.” I beat the level without too much trouble. But when Tails arrived at the escape pod, Knuckles was nowhere to be found. Tails cried out for him, but there was no response. Tails then started weeping. Between the sobs, I could hear faint footsteps. I knew those footsteps anywhere. It was Sonic. “Hey Tails!” Sonic called out. “Did you see what I did to Baldy McNosehair? I think we should change his name to Corpsey McNoface.” “Why are you doing this?” Tails cried. “You’re a good guy! You are supposed to help people!” Sonic laughed. “I am helping people, Tails. It might not seem like it, but there are some very bad people who need to be taught a lesson.” Sonic looked straight at the camera. “There are some very bad people, indeed.” He pointed his gun right at me. I’m not sure what it was, but I somehow knew I was in great danger. I ducked out of the way of the television. The screen shattered as a bullet flew through the glass. The bullet grazed my leg as I tumbled down to the floor. Sonic the Hedgehog had just tried to kill me. I was in complete shock. I haven’t felt this way since Obama won the 2012 election. My entire life was now in shambles. My hero, my friend, my first love just tried to kill me. The words of Reggie Fils-Aimé rang through my head. Sonic has always been a bad boy. It was true. But why me? Why Ben Shapiro? Everybody loves Ben Shapiro. And then it hit me. “Oh my god. Sonic must be a liberal.” Environmentalist themes are rampant in Sonic games, the fact that Sonic always runs around in the nude, the fact that his fur is blue. I pulled out my phone and Googled “Is Sonic the Hedgehog a democrat?” I found an image of a Bernie Sanders rally. And sure enough. There he was hidden in the crowd. Sonic the Hedgehog. He was holding a sign up that said “Free Healthcare for All”. I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. How could this be? Why did I never notice? Rivers of blood were running down my leg at this point. I called out “Is there a doctor in the house?!” To my dismay, my wife, who is a doctor by the way, had just gone out for milk. So there was in fact no doctor in the house. I crafted a makeshift tourniquet out of copies of the Constitution that I keep in every single drawer of my house. I was no longer bleeding like a stuck pig, but I knew I would lose consciousness soon if I didn't act. Suddenly, I heard a loud shattering sound come from the guest room. Oh my God. It must have been the other television. I limped over to the room to see that it was empty. The television appeared to have been broken from the inside. Sonic was inside the house. I could tell. I scanned the room for any sign of where he might have gone. I saw that the guest closet door was closed. Gotcha, I whispered under my breath. I reached under the guest bed and pulled out my shotgun. I crept up to the door. I heard heavy breathing coming from the other side. I cocked my shotgun, stuck it up against the door, and fired. A loud howling erupted from the other side of the door. Sonic was finished. I opened the door and flicked on the light to get a better view of my handiwork. My jaw dropped as the shotgun slipped out of my hands and onto the ground. I had just shot Knuckles the Echidna. “Fuck! Holy Fuck! Jesus Christ! You just fucking shot me!” Knuckles bawled. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” “I am so sorry. I am so sorry.”I told him. “You fucking idiot! You shot me! You goddamn moron!” “Hey, I happen to have a very high IQ.” I told him. Knuckles continued screaming for a minute or two until falling silent. He was dead. A painful silence filled the room. My mind was racing, but at the same time, it was also completely blank. They don’t prepare you for this at Harvard Law School. I picked the shotgun back up and stumbled back into the living room. The Sega Dreamcast was gone. “I know you are here, Sonic!” I shouted. “So just come out now!” Silence. My eyes kept darting all around the room. He could be anywhere I thought. The adrenaline in my system that was keeping my leg from hurting was starting to wear off. Fatigue was setting in. Shit. If I don’t deal with Sonic soon, I’m a goner. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw something in the kitchen. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! It was nothing. Then a chilling realization hit me. I was out of bullets. Then I heard his voice. “You should be careful, Ben. Are you not aware that seventy percent of accidental gun deaths occur in the home? If you are not careful, your love of the second amendment is going to get you killed. And we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Fear cascaded through my nervous system. I tried to pinch myself awake, but this was no dream. This was reality. I took a deep breath and turned around. There he was. Sonic the Hedgehog. Hyper realistic blood running down his face. My first thought was to run. But I knew that would be pointless. I knew that he could snap my neck in a millisecond if he wanted to. I was a fly caught in his web. And I knew he wanted to take his time with me. To torture me. To put me in so much pain that I would forget my own name or even forget what a disaster the Affordable Care Act was. I was doomed. “Don't worry, buddy.” Sonic taunted. “This will only hurt a lot.” He started to walk closer towards me. Each step like the gong of a bell in my ears. I never should have walked into the Gamestop. How could the free market have done this to me. I had only one hope. I cried out for Reggie. He was the only one who could stop this. There is no way he would let Gamestop get bad publicity like this. As Sonic stepped closer, a cloud of smoke appeared. Out of the fog, Reggie Fils-Aimé appeared. “Thank God, you came!” I smiled. “Anything for a customer.” Reggie turned his attention towards Sonic, who was still smiling with his smug smile that he does. “So, you called on your big brother to help you out, Ben. That is so sweet. I guess I will have to get rid of you both then. I have always wanted to get my hands on Mario. But I guess you will have to do, Reggie.”
“Silence!” Reggie’s voice boomed throughout the house. “You will never defeat me Sonic. I am but a mere projection of the real Reggie Fils-Aimé. But I am still ten times stronger than you could ever hope to be. You are nothing more than a stain on the world of gaming. You should have been wiped out years ago, but you keep hanging on. You are quite resilient. I am afraid that your resilience ends tonight. I will do all in my power to destroy you, Sonic. You will never again torture any-” Sonic leapt forward, jamming his knee into Reggie’s stomach. Reggie yelled out in disbelief before exploding into a puff of smoke. “What. How. Did.” I stuttered my words in absolute fear. Sonic dusted himself off.” I knew he was too weak to handle me. After all. Sega does what Nintendon’t.” The room was spinning at this point. I spun around towards the front door. Maybe if I could just get outside, I would be safe. I started towards the door, but collapsed due to exhaustion. Sonic started laughing at me. I could tell by his laugh that he was absolutely giddy as he watched me try to escape with my life. “Come on, Ben!” Sonic said. “We could go to Six Flags. Just like you’ve always wanted. You, me, Knuckles. Oh wait, you killed Knuckles, didn’t you. That was very naughty of you, Ben, I think you’re going to need a time out. A permanent time out!” I was at the door at this point, my bloody hand struggling to get a grip on the knob. Sonic walked closer. End of the line. Suddenly the door opened. Dr. Shapiro, my wife, was back with the milk. “Oh my God!” She screamed. “Ben, are you okay!” I tried to speak but I was too tired to move my mouth. For once in my life, I was speechless. “You!” Sonic shouted in disbelief. “What are you doing here?” I was confused by Sonic’s words, but I knew I needed medical attention right away. With what little strength I had left, I looked at my wife and pleaded. “Please dear, I need a doctor.” My wife looked at me, revealing a pain hidden in her eyes. “I have to tell you something, Ben. I am not really a doctor. I was never a doctor.” “What!?” I said. “Of course you are!” “No.” She said. “I have been lying about my entire life. You see, I am a demon hunter. And I have been hunting Sonic the Hedgehog for decades now. You see, Sonic is a Demon.” “What!” I cried. My wife sighed. “I come from a place known as Genocide City. At least that is what everyone called it after Sonic killed everyone there. My mother hid me under the floorboards so Sonic didn’t get me. I have spent my whole life training so that one day I could finally defeat him. I knew that Sonic hated conservatives. And I knew that you were obsessed with finding anything related to Sonic. So I decided to marry you as a way to find Sonic. That day has finally come. Don’t worry, Ben. I will take it from here.” My wife pulled out a giant sword. “Alright Sonic,” she said. “Let’s dance.” Sonic ran straight into my wife, pushing them both through the front door of the house. They began fighting out on our open lawn, moving so quickly I could hardly tell which blurry figure was my wife and which one was Sonic. Soon, the homeless people who all hang out in our neighborhood started watching. “What is that thing?!” one called out. “It looks like some kind of creature!” Another answered, “That’s just Ben Shapiro.” I could not tell who was winning the fight. The two moved at such incredible speed that I could not tell what was even happening. It was not until my wife was sent through the wall of our house that I started to suspect she was losing. Although her giant sword was incredibly cool looking, it seemed like she had trouble actually hitting Sonic with it. I am not sure how one prepares to fight a demon. I took a demon slaying elective at Harvard Law, but that was mostly just theory. Eventually, my wife was able to pin Sonic underneath her sword. Sonic pushed hard against it, driving himself further into the ground. “Give it up, Sonic!” She cried. “I am sending you back to hell!” Suddenly the sword broke in half, and my wife lost her footing. Sonic took advantage of this moment and quickly pinned underneath his Soap shoe. “I am starting to get annoyed at how weak you all think I am. In case you all forgot who I am. I’m Sonic! Sonic the Hedgehog! I am the fastest thing alive!!” I had to think fast. If I didn’t do something, it might all be over. And then it hit me. I called out. “Hey Sonic!” “Huh?!” Sonic turned to face me. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Ben Shapiro. The one who awoke me from my slumber. Sorry about your house. And your lawn. Any last words before I ruin the rest of your life?” “Mario is better!” Sonic froze. “What did you say?!” “Mario is better than Sonic!” I said again. I stood to my feet, a rush of strength coursed through my veins. “Eight of the fifty best selling games ever are Mario titles. Sonic only has one. Level design in Mario games is vastly superior to that of Sonic games. Super Mario Galaxy is one hundred times more polished than any 3D Sonic title. Sega has no idea how to make a good Sonic game, whereas Mario games have remained consistently good for thirty five years.” Sonic was clearly confused. “What are you talking about? Aren’t you one of my biggest fans? Why would you spread such nonsense?” I chuckled. “I’m not spreading nonsense. I’m spreading facts and logic.” “What!?” Sonic took a step back in shock, and then realized that my wife had slipped out of his grasp. Just then, she pierced through his body from behind using the broken end of her sword. Sonic gasped out for air, clearly struggling to breathe. “You bastard!” he shouted. “Sorry, Sonic.” My wife said plainly. “But it looks like it’s game over!” It was at this point Sonic began inflating. His true demonic form was finally coming to light. Sonic’s body continued to grow in size. It reminded me of images I used to look at on Deviant Art Dot Com. Sonic moaned and roared. And then finally, the demon exploded, raining hyper realistic blood down over the entire block. The crowd of homeless people surrounding our house cheered out. Finally the nightmare was over. By this point, everything became a blur. The next thing I knew, I was in a hospital bed. My wife was there, along with a real doctor, who jumped up when they saw me wake up. “Thank god you are alive, Ben!” My wife said. “We are all so happy you are alive!” “Yes,” the doctor agreed. “This truly is a miracle. Anyway your bill is one hundred and fifty thousand dollars.” We all started laughing. God bless America. After a while I finally returned home. We buried Knuckles out in the backyard, and I bought myself a copy of Super Mario 3D All Stars. It might be a rip off. But the games are still quality. Not long after these events we moved to Nashville, Tennessee and I accidentally misplaced my haunted copy of Sonic Adventure 2. Otherwise I would have dumped a rom onto the internet to prove that any of this happened. Oh well. I learned a lot about myself during these times. I learned to stop obsessing over Sonic the Hedgehog. I finally went to Six Flags. All by myself. And it was fucking dope. I also learned that my wife is not a doctor. Boy, do I have egg on my face. I also learned the importance of facts and logic. Well, I guess I already knew that. But I reaffirmed that I was correct. And most importantly, I learned that I should never step foot in a Gamestop again.
submitted by KillerBlaze9 to copypasta [link] [comments]