Thriller The Sins of the Saints

Chapter VII: Family. And other problems.


Tarpenbekstraße, Flat

The man looked at Hoshi. Then he laughed and turned to his colleague.

"Kijkt de hele dag als niet al Japanse horlogeTV. Recht?"He said and the other nodded. Then he walked over to the kitchen TV and turned it with one violent swing. He pushed the activation button and began switching through the channels. KikaTV showed Teletubbies, Kabel1 some old 80ies series. Finally he arrived at NTV, the news channel and turned to Hoshi. Visible was Laura Blohm who seemed to speak to the camera. The sound was off and there was no way Hoshi . . . bleeding and now bound to the heater, could activate it. but it looked like she was responsible for a riot in downtown. The second bad guy began taking care of Hoshi´s gun wound, while the slim guy, obviosuly the leader of both . . . did turn to the TV. ""Unwahrscheinlich. Ich denke sie lebt und ich denke sie kommt her." He said and folded his arms. "Und ich denke sie ist nicht clever genug dich einfach sterben zu lassen sondern . . . " he never finished the sentence. Someone turned the keys in the door. His gun snapped into his hand and he turned it towards the door. The man who had treated Hoshi´s wound pressed his hand on his mouth. And Robert had lost consciousness. He had become even more pale than before. But now red irritations of his skin had begin to spread on his neck as he trembled, covered with cold sweat right next to Hoshi.

As Thomas Schröder opened the door, the small girl at his side the leader of the two grinned. "Herr Schröder. Herzlich willkommen zur Party." And his gun was pointed at Thomas face.

Tag: LordTroepfchen, Ben_Stormrider


Carl-Cohn-Strasse, Garage

Michael looked at Mrkus, then back to Laura and without hesitation he raised his gun and fired. The bullet ripped through Laura´s shoulder and hurled her to the ground. All the policeman turned but from above one could her the roars and screams of a horde of people coming closer. "Was ist hier los!?" Asked an elder man and turned to the attackers again. "ESTI business." Michael only hissed and his gun was now pointed at Markus. "Away from her." He barked, turning his gun at Laura and back at Markus.

Tag: Mitth, Sirak


Struenseestraße, Altona, Hamburg

The man looked at the gun and fought a smile, forcing it to stay away from his lips.

"I began searching my creator around 32 a.D. and gave up to find him anywhere about three hundred years later. In my search I had come to the realization I was not the only creature not aging. Not by any means the only one. And surely not the eldest. I began than to look out for my brothers and sisters. Hoping that through them I could trace my creator. I found your trace in the legends in the Dark Ages. And then again later. Finally of course this terrible book came out, written by this drunken irish. And now, recently . . . I´ve seen the name John Morris appear on a list. A list of most unpleasant content. On which I found mine, too."

He sighed and leaned back. "So, I guess we both won´t life a lot longer, now. So, we can share what we know. I think. Actually, I do suspect we come from the same creator. We´re brother so to say."

Tag: Peng

 

Update

---

[b]IC: Ginsberg[/b]
[i]Inside Command tent Echo 3-T-8, outside BMC, Boston. [/i]

?I?ll do it, but I need to speak with my friend outside the parameter. You see, sir, she is the one who needs to contact someone on the inside. So either she?s coming with me, or I need to get some information so I know who I am looking for.?

Ginsberg tilted his head to the side as he considered Abby's request. He had miscalculated her just a little, something that rarely happens. He thought her connection to whoever inside the hospital would be enough for her to agree to his deal, yet she was doing this for someone who was already outside and it was their connection... very interesting.

Ginsberg motioned a bland looking man in a suit over to his side and whispered in his ear. The man nodded and left.

Ginsberg cleared his throat. ?Miss Schultz , don't insult my intelligence. You would not have tried to sneak in unless you had all the information you needed. Now, I can't threaten you with the stockades, as I can't keep you from talking, and killing you, while effective, would still leave me with my original problem. So I'll make the deal simpler. You do what I want or my associate is going to have a talk with your friend in the car. And Miss Schultz I assure you, it won't be a pleasant conversation.?

[b]Tag: CPL[/b]


[b]IC: Stephanie Dale[/b]
[i]Inside BMC[/i]

?Hey Stephanie, you have any idea where the infected are?? Stephanie did a double take at Weber and Fossett. ?You want to capture one of those psychos?! Are you ****ing crazy! They have guns, and they've killed people!?

Stephanie wrapped her arms around herself and stated to shake her head. ?I don't think I can do that. I don't think I can face them again.? And indeed, Stephanie's mind could not summon up the courage to over come her fear of the Psychopaths that had shot her. The only thought that kept running through her mind was those men killing her and Weber, Fossett and Liam... The thought of Camden and Liam's cold lifeless bodies sprawled on the ground riddled with bullet holes, snapped her out of the mental loop.

?O-ok. They were in the lobby the last I saw them but they had come out of the elevators, the ones that go to the morgue.?

[b]Tag: Coder, LordT [/b]

 

Daniel Beckfris
Monestary

Why would he be surprised? Really, at this point nothing should surprise him. One could assume that the reason behind two western men to ascend a mountain in the middle of a snow storm to get to an ancient monastery would not be because of it's famous cookies.
But he had not seen any fancy gadgets on his way up and.. how did they know they were here?
Daniel had to stop expecting to face the obvious and start expecting his wildest dreams.

Now, this boy.. They sent a boy probably because it is seen as some peaceful gesture. A grown man would normally awake suspicion but a boy, innocent and sweet.. Perhaps even sweeter if he staked him on a pole and gave him to Georgi Benocii, a notorious cook in darker circles who specializes in infants. But in this day and age.. Who knew, if Adam were a thousand years old and only looked as 60. What was there to say that this boy would not be five hundred and look like seven?

Was this place here? Or was it there? How long did they climb this mountain? Is this only a nightmare? Is this another trick of the change?
Is the boy for real? Is Adam, Björndahl, himself. Is anything real?

Assuming it was, this boy.. This boy was not here to bring them to Zinsky, no.. He was here to bring them to the monks. Daniel was in no mood to have endless discussions with self righteous bastards in orange robes telling him one liners about what is important or not in life.
Questions met with short statements that are meant to inspire him to question his goals, make him one of them. Bah! Now what, kill the boy? Kill them all? Or would they face something like Adam here? How many of his kind existed? Daniel could not risk facing a being like Adam on his own, he could have to stall his presence until Adam arrived.. if he arrived and had not abandoned them here to die now that Adam had some of his symbols, who knew.. Maybe that was enough. Again, Daniel was forced to play by the rules of others..

"Yes boy, we are here to see Zinsky, take us to him now!"

Björndahl and Daniel shared looks with each other, nodding in unison where both understood that their first stop in this monastery would not be.. Zinsky.

TAG: LordT

 

Jackson Clay
Corben´s Inn, Nevada

He felt the mans body turn from tension, to the slight tremble and then to a state of total relaxing. As all strength left the body and The Man was dead.

It sucks to be human.

Yes, Jackson knew how he felt about that. "I´m so sorry. I´m so sorry." Vashti whispered. Vashti. Jackson looked up. The Man had been right, something inside of him wanted . . . no, no . . . never. He snapped up like a spring-knife and stumbled a few steps back. Lord, give me strength. "You . . . you did the right thing. He was . . ." You know what he was. Did you. You recognized him. You two, you met before, didn´t you? ". . . dangerous."

The sweet scent of her fear. They are alone now. Jackson feels the pulse in his head. So long, so long he had kept his appetite in check. He won´t. He won´t give in now. The Lord did not allow him any more weakness. Or was this a reward? A short lapse, allowed to lessen his thirst for future . . . Jackson closed his eyes and shook his head. Stepping back and preparing his weapon, without even opening his eyes. "Vashtii. I must know something." He presses through his teeth then and openes his eyes again. He looks into her face. Tries to avoid to look at her body. And speaks very calm and clearly. "I am searching for someone. Someone who had come here and was hiding. Hiding something. Hiding himself. I need to know. Need to know if it is you. Or one of those still alive." He hissed out air. "I need to find what that person has hidden here." And slowly turning his head, he looked at that wall with pictures. Vashti. Roger. The Corbens. Smiling. Happy. All of them. Something is wrong here. Someone is missing. Someone . . .

Why has the man come? Because he searched for someone? For who? Vashtii? Him?

Looking at Vashti Jackson realized what he was looking at and moved to the counter. "When did the new waitress arrive here? She is new, is she?" He searched and found their shifts. A callendar into which working hours were written down. "When?" He asked now, with feverish eyes. The skin. The skin of Vashti looked so soft. How had he known? How had he awakened that beast from slumber?

Jackson coughed out, he felt weak. He felt like he would need to throw up any second now. His fingers went through the pages . . .

Tag: swbeauty, Fin

 

IC: Markus J. F. Christianson
Carl-Cohn-Strasse, Garage

"Are you bloomin mad!" was the first response as the gun went off, Markus had thought many things but this? Why would he..."Oh." he softly muttered as a hand came up to his mouth in shock as the police and Michael exchanged quick words, the realization dawning on his over taxed mind.

Michael had been on Janice's team, Janice's team had abducted his daughter and Laura-being/creature/whatever, and transported them both here to lock-down. Also had not seen him since before leaving to undertake that task if he remembered correctly, but with all that had been going on he was willing to admit being slightly taxed in that regard.

Michael called out for him to move away from her, and he did so in the only way his conscious would allow. He took a step forward to place himself more between Laura and Michael, he knew he wasn't invincible. He knew what was at risk, but the scales were rigged against him. That was the problem with family, to him at least, when it came down to it nothing held more weight, and this man was inadvertently endangering his daughter.

"I was cleared and read-in by Sturmer on the way here an hour ago. When we were attacked loosing the doctor before his report, and pinned down he instructed me to get our current assets out of here. I would guess she is all that is left here with that mob." oh how he ached to call that man out on loosing his daughter, physically ached. "Don't do something crazy and end your career like this. Save Sturmer, I can handle the asset." his hand still holding the device he pressed it's button once to end the song. Stairing and knowing only truth he had shared, misleading and likely going to involve a few acts of penance for this, but the truth if only part.

TAG: Sirak, Fin

 

Doctor Camden Fossett
BMC, Boston, USA

?You want to capture one of those psychos?! Are you ****ing crazy! They have guns, and they've killed people!? Stephanie wailed, stunned. Camden frowned, thinking about Liam, his young son. His child. The joyous feeling shuddered through him, then determination. His young son, the one Carly didn?t even know about, was hopefully alive and running around. And if something like that thing he had witnessed moments ago was one of these things, it was heading toward the morgue.

?Now I remember!? Camden shouted. ?O-ok. They were in the lobby the last I saw them but they had come out of the elevators, the ones that go to the morgue.? Stephanie finally muttered. ?Do you remember me chasing after that thing, that murderer I mentioned. It could have been one of those things. And it was heading toward the morgue. Perhaps chasing Liam. Perhaps. We have to go to the morgue, to not only get one of the monsters but also save Liam!?

TAG: Anvil, LordT

 

Alex McRea

tick tock

An internal click started ticking the moment I noticed that the lights were on. My hand clenched, and for a moment i forgot about the Sheriff and the girl in the truck. I never leave lights on, save the ones in the basement, and this was not that. So what was it? The only way I was gonna find out was to go inside and that wasn't gonna happen till Smiley left.

"Yeah." I said in reply to the Sheriff, "I thought about going out there to that warehouse, was actually on my way there, when common sense struck me and I decided better of it. At least for now, would probably be a better idea for a simple guy like me to see the place during the day." A ran a hand through my hair, I sometimes do that when I'm trying to think, not that many people know that. "Haven't seen the deputy though. I just ended up ridding around a little bet, getting some fresh air and being out of the basement for a while. If I see him though I'll tell him you're looking for him."

Tag: Fins

OOC: Sorry about the wait. I've decided to go back to school and put some focus on that and now I should be back into the swings of things slowly.

 

ooc: Congrats to our players for taking the Awards. TheDarkOverlord, swbeauty. I had the pleasure to play with both of you and a job well done, an award well deserved and we´re all proud of you! Now go back and do some awesome posts

Chapter VII: Darwin was wrong

Monastery, Mountains

"Certainly." The boy said and smiled.

Bjorndahl nodded and slowly walked after him, looking around. Guarding Beckfris. His SMG pressed close to his chest. The climbed up into the real Monastery, build like a fortress above the abandoned city. And even there htey were greeted by an empty plaza, surrounded by the high walls who contained the living rooms of the people here. The boy lead their way. Calm and enthusiastic. He had not said if he brought them to the monks or to Zinsky. But he was not in a hurry. Bjorndahl spotted the piles. they were covered by red garment, but as high as man. One could think they were part of the decoration, but on second thought, they did not serve any purpose. "Sir." Bjornadahl said and raised one of the garments. Among them a hand dropped out. A skeleton of a hand to be precise. No flesh remained on the bones. Bjorndahl uncovered more. And several skeletons became visible. "Must be hundreds." Bjorndahl said to Beckfris. And looked at the three other piles.

Then they heard the sound of the large doors close. The high walls had seemed like a fortress and the gates surely did. Iron. High and solid. And now locked with a huge bare of metal that blocked the exit. Fours monks, cloaked and barefooted in the snow stood there, their faces turned to the walls, as if they tried to hide their faces. And from above a gentle voice welcomed them in perfect english.

"Welcome." Said a man from the stairs down to the two men. And smiled. He stood there as if he always had. Bjorndahl snapped up like a dog and raised his gun at him. The man did not even blink about it but only stared down on him.

Tag: TheDarkOverlord

Draco got a PM to work with so . . .

 

ooc: I offer my congratulations to our two homebrewed Award Winners! Yeah!

Chapter VIII - The Passenger

Flight 2440, 1st Class

Tony looked at Sumiko and gave her a sad, melancholic smile. "Well who are you really?" He asked her and looked at her. His eyes seemed to show his suffering soul. "Who are you, Sumiko?" Then he took the card. "And don´t worry, it´s kinda worthless now, anyway. At least ot me." And the other Passenger of the 1st class was washing his hands. They could hear it.

"Go now. They need you. I don´t. And have a good life. Sumiko." He noded and turned to his glass of Whisky once more.

Andy felt her consciosuness slowly drifting into darkness and then return. Drift and return. The wound was better. The bleeding had stopped. But the pain was still pretty bad. Vincent alsmost leaped down and ran to the cockpit. She could hear that. And then a face was over her. The man seemed to recognize her and she recognized him perhaps. An old man. The man who had sat next to the now dead business man who had tried to get to the 1st class. "Looks not good." He said. And seemed to be terrified. "Who shot you?"

Before andy could answer, or Sumiko was back the voice of Vincent thundered through the ship. "We got an emergency situation. Please sit down and fasten your seatbeltzs. Take care of the wounded girl in the first class. We need to land. Now!" Vincent´s voice was only fear.

Tag: Spy, Leigh


Corben´s Inn, Nevada

They heard the rumbling, the thundering noise and they were for a short moment disturbed in their talk . . . as an airplane passed the Corben´s Inn. It seemed too close. Flying to low. And Jackson saw the many pictures on the wall, showing the people who lived and worked here. They had been pinned next to the bar over the years.

Tag: TSG, swbeauty


Streets, Nevada

The desert was not that empty. Actually something was moving. Coming from far away, but hard to overlook in the dead desert was an airplane. Still to far away to disturb their talking. But it was there and coming closer, indeed.

Tag: Xany, TGI

 

Daniel Beckfris
Inside Monastery, Kathmandu

He walked along with Björndahl and followed the small child, tempted to eat him.. Not because he imagined that the boy would taste good, but to prove a point. That this whole ordeal was ridiculous, Daniel looked at what Björndahl had found.
"Probably some religious ritual with their dead. Draping them might mean that they are sheltered from an unseen evil, or given 'robes' that will fit in with their new place. Perhaps the red color represent the female woumb, and they return from where they were born.. or some other occult fiction. I would say, do not worry about it but do not destroy them either. Perhaps the boy will shed a tear that you dragged out his dead grandfather on the courtyard and made a puppet show out of his dead bones"

Beckfris smiled at Björndahl "Not that I would care, but at this point.. we are at the grace of these.. whatever they are. Or whoever they are".

They approached the four monks who had their backs turned to them with guns drawn, searching with their aim the monastery walls and approaching carefully.


Welcome


Both of them turned their aim at the man atop of the stairs, perfect English not a German.


"You are not Zinsky" Björndahl replied

"And you are not a monk either" Beckfris filled in

"So.." Daniel Beckfris paused for a second, they stood silent looking at one another, the monks still their backs turned for a brief moment the world seemed to stand still. "Who and what are you?"

TAG: LordT

 

IC: Sumiko Nakamura
Flight 2440, 1st Class


"Well who are you really?"

Sumiko stopped in her tracks suddenly as Tony spoke up once more. She frowned. She turned to face him again, and she noticed he was smiling. But it was a sad smile, a smile that was steeped in Melancholy. And his eyes, eyes that were full of torment and suffering. A sinking feeling formed in her gut as her own eyes met those haunted orbs, The emotions within them feeling almost palpable in the air of the cabin.

"Who are you, Sumiko?"

Sumiko blinked out of her daze, trying to fight the puzzled look that had crept onto her face but failing miserably. What In the heck did he mean by that? What did he mean by "who are you really?" She wished he would give a straight answer for once instead of talking cryptically. She watched as he took the card in his hand. In the background, the sound of running water could be heard coming from the bathroom. Tony?s companion...

"And don´t worry, it´s kinda worthless now, anyway. At least to me?Go now. They need you. I don´t. And have a good life. Sumiko."

He said as he turned to his drink once more. Sumiko let out an exasperated sigh from under her breath, she had confronted him to find out more about what was going on, but had ended up being even more confused than she had been initially and still none the wiser! Despite this, she decided not to push him any further and leave him be as he had asked. But Sumiko still had a bad feeling deep down inside as she turned once more to walk away. His words echoed in her mind and she was clearly unsettled by it all, not to mention she could now add apparently supersonic planes to her growing list of impossible stuff that had occurred since this damned flight had taken off. As she started making her way back to Andrea, the skymarshall?s voice suddenly came booming over the intercom system.

"We got an emergency situation. Please sit down and fasten your seatbelts. Take care of the wounded girl in the first class. We need to land. Now!"

His voice...the skymarshall had managed to keep a fairly level head throughout this ordeal give or take some stress. But now, his voice was full of fear and that was all. Pure fear. Sumiko rushed over towards where Andrea was lying. She would need help securing herself in her condition. Her heart was in her throat at the thought of what was going to happen next.

?Andrea-san!

She shouted as she ran up the aisle. It was then she saw a newcomer, an old man, who was standing over the injured Italian woman. Sumiko threw a questioning glance at him, but thought there was a time and a place to question him and right now it could wait.

?Please sir, help me secure her! Hurry!?

She asked, fear and uncertainty creeping into her voice once again.

...I can tell you what the news will tell tomorrow. What happens to the guy in seat C5 and . . . thing. Or when you die. I can do that...

Was the plane going to go down? Was this it?



TAG: Fins, Spycoder

 

Andrea ?Andy? Rebecca Baker
Flight 2440

The shivers were the worst of everything. The cold, the despair. The black hole surrounded her soul, shrouded her personality in a black veil. And amongst the darkness, the nightmare, mouthless woman came into view, bloody tears streaking down her pale skin. Behind the nightmare lady stood a beautiful young Italian woman that resembled herself. Andrea realized then that this image was her mother, who waved to her daughter and blew a soft kiss. Seeing her mother woke her from her drifting mind.

The wrinkled face of the old man stared down on her, bewildered and curious. ?Looks not good,? the man noted as he peered at her damaged shoulder. Andrea vaguely remembered seeing him beside the now dead business man. ?I thought I was perfectly fine,? Andrea rolled her eyes sarcastically, though she winced from the pain. ?Who shot you?? he asked then. ?The Stewardess woman, that?s who,? Andrea replied angrily, glaring at the man. But she decided he wasn?t the one causing all this. Or was he?

Then the shouts. She recognized Vincent?s voice, surging like a river with fear. This caused her to start to shake. She watched Sumiko fall to her, shouting at the older man. Then Andrea thought of the worst possible thing she could have thought of in this situation.

We are going to crash.

She screamed.

TAG: Sumiko, Fins

 

IC: Vashti Schick
Corben's Inn

Only seconds after Vashti's knees touched the cold floor, Mr. Clay's face turned to hers. Then, only seconds later, he jumped up so fast that it startled the girl. She'd thought that by looking at her, he forgave her but now, now that he jumped away, she feared he was rejecting her. Her mother had once explained to her how it had felt to be rejected by her father.


Her mother stood in front of the stove stirring a pot of homemade chicken soup. Vashti sat on a counter behind her, observing her movements. The older woman's voice was telling the story of the days after her miscarriage. Her voice would crack every once in a while, trying to swallow down the tears.

"It hurts for a little while. You feel awful. A little bit of hatred toward your rejector and then shame because you were so easily left, but Vashti..."

Mrs. Schick turned to her daughter.

"Vashti, don't you ever let someone make you feel that way, understand me?"

Vashti nodded. She wouldn't ever let someone make her feel that way but she also would make sure that no one would ever have a reason to reject her.


Until now. Now she truly understood what her mother had meant. How was it possible that one person could make you feel so awful?

"You . . . you did the right thing. He was . . ." ". . . dangerous."

Relief took rejections place. The death of the Man must have just shocked him and made him act strangely. He was clenching his eyes shut and his hands were fiddling with something. She didn't care though, he didn't hate her.

"Vashti. I must know something."

As his eyes opened to meet hers a moment of fear passed through her. His eyes were...strange. Emotions seemed to flow through them. Anger, fear, struggle, and want was what she saw in his elderly eyes. It was like when they first met and she would catch him smiling a real smile but it was gone as quick as it came.

"I am searching for someone. Someone who had come here and was hiding. Hiding something. Hiding himself. I need to know. Need to know if it is you. Or one of those still alive." "I need to find what that person has hidden here."

Why would someone choose to hide themselves or something here? Not many people lived here but they got a fair amount of travelers. Wouldn't she know if she was the one hiding? And what others were alive? Why weren't they out looking for them?

Mr. Clay was looking at the wall of pictures. She remembered the day her picture was put up there and how happy it had made her to be official. His eyes were looking at her but quickly shifted away before he moved to the counter. The very counter that she had stood behind earlier today and tried to flirt with a boy who was now dead before she began to quote scripture with the man who stood in front of her.

"When did the new waitress arrive here? She is new, is she?" "When?"

People always said the eyes were the window to the soul and Vashti knew that the saying was true. She had opened her mouth to answer his question but then she saw the look in his eyes and it scared her. It wasn't the gentle or kind look one would expect of a man of his age, no, it was a frightening look, a look of need. It made her shiver despite the heat and her hands slowly rubbed up and down her arms.

Standing, she took a step toward the older man as she tried to remember when Sharon had arrived. An airplane broke into her thoughts. If a plane was flying that meant there were others still alive just like Mr. Clay had said. She'd been worried that they were the only ones.

When had Sharon arrived? It seemed like ages ago but it hadn't been long at all.

"Sharon got her just a few weeks ago. She started working here not long after her car broke down."

Such a strange question. What did Sharon have to do with anything?

"Wait, do you think she is the one you are looking for? Do you think she is hiding here or hiding something?"

Walking closer to him she began to replay memories of Sharon in her head trying to rememb

 

IC: Abby Schultz
Inside Command tent Echo 3-T-8, outside BMC, Boston.

?Miss Schultz, don't insult my intelligence. You would not have tried to sneak in unless you had all the information you needed. Now, I can't threaten you with the stockades, as I can't keep you from talking, and killing you, while effective, would still leave me with my original problem. So I'll make the deal simpler. You do what I want or my associate is going to have a talk with your friend in the car. And Miss Schultz I assure you, it won't be a pleasant conversation.?

The battle hardened medic buried her true feelings deep into her subconscious. She needed to conceal her shock about the lengths that this Ginsberg character would go to fulfill his secret agenda. Crud, this geezer knows how to play hardball. Well he is going to find out that I am more than just a pretty face and a nice set of legs.

She turned her steely grey eyes towards the man in charge, ?Alright Chief, you can put your attack dog back on his chain. I said I?ll do it.? She looked down at the picture of Weber once more and slapped it down next to the SAT Comm. Without pausing she scooped up the communications device and slipped it into her pack. She had two names from Elizabeth to work with: Anderson, a female, and Camden, which Abby could only assume was a male. But she also had no clue as to what was going on inside the Medical Center.

?So do you have a Sitrep for me? Or am I going to be walking in there blind?? She had not even looked up from the contents of her pack to see what Ginsberg thought of her question. Instead she grabbed out the 1,766 gram, 269.2 mm, blue steeled Mark VII Desert Eagle chambered in .357 Magnum. She dropped the clip to double check that she had a full load, slapped it back up in to the magazine well, pulled the slide back and let it slam forward to chamber a round. She made sure that the semi-automatic pistol was on safe and tucked it into the waist band of her jeans at the small of her back as she stood up from her seat.

[image=http://www.truck-parts-auction.com/forums/attachments/coments-redneck-ricky-self-proclaimed-super-trucker/17d1215272154-gun-laws-florida-girls-agun.jpg]

?Screw the sitrep, I?ll figure it out on my own.? God help me, what am I getting myself into.

TAG: Anvil

 

GM Note: My apologies. I promised some people an update and right now my work doesn´t allow me to make one. At all. But I give you a glimmer of hope. Update in about 24-26 hours. And then three days in a row I´ll update the game.

Thanks for your understanding.

-Fin-

 

IC: Father McEneny

It was a letter.

The voicemail had suggested looking for information on Roselli, anything he might have left behind to clue them into what had happened. He rustled through everything he could find, trying desperately to choke down the fact that he had just spoken to the man in the church.

In the files that had been packed away when Roselli left, there was an unopened envelope, still pristine, apparently lost amongst the more official business. McEneny had thrust a thumb underneath the fold and pried it open - the adhesive had gotten old, and so came apart easily. The letter was folded over neatly into thirds and tucked away. It was because of the cleanness - the neat envelope, the way it came apart without ripping, the even folds - that the handwriting, a messy scrawl, was so jarring.

"I'm sorry," it said, "but I had to see if He would stop me. I had to see if He would save them. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'm..." It continued like that to the end of the page.

Father Roselli slumped to the floor, staring.

TAG: DarkLordoftheFins.

 

ooc: Tot gesagte leben länger

John Henley
Desert, Nevada

John turned to Sharon. It all began to make sense. But in a very twisted and surreal way. If this was the future, it was not what they had expeted you. Then again, nothing ever was, right? The future never held what people thought it would. No, it never was. You grew older, your wife died, your albums suddenly sold platin and the day after you were a junkie and nobody gave a thing about you. Wait another ten years of the so called future and suddenly you´re the great American voice. Hate when you should love, you love when you should hate. You even love what you hate.

And then this future arrives. And red plants seem to spend energy to car wrecks. But everybody is gone. Only the people from the past remain. Relics. In a dead word. A mad world.

"That was you, wasn´t it? The woman I killed? It was you. An old you." He looked at Sharon and then at his rifle. "I am sorry." He added then. After all, he had shot Sharon. Even if it was to save her.

The thundering sound of an airplne seemed nothing special to him at first, as he waited for Sharon´s reply. Only then, he relalized that planes did not fly through dead worlds. And he turned his head. "What the hell . . . "

Tag: Fin, Xany

 

IC: Sharon Cosner
Somewhere in the desert

So he knew. For an instant, Sharon was torn between I'm sorry I didn't tell you and ... what? Threatening him into silence? That was irrational; they were in the middle of the desert and there was nobody for him to tell even if he wanted to.

"Don't be," she said instead. She met his gaze steadily. "I would have shot her myself, if you hadn't." That was perfectly true: risky thought it would have been, she had been a heartbeat away from snatching the pistol when John fired.

He still looked, though not quite guilty, regretful. Sharon exhaled. "That may have been our selves from a future ... this future ... but that old woman was no more me than that skeleton in the car is you. Their time is done. We don't have to end up like them."

I changed it, the old woman screeched from her memory. You are not meant to be here! I changed it!

A plane roared overhead, interrupting her train of thought. Sharon looked up, as did John. "What the hell . . . " he said, an epithet which Sharon agreed with wholeheartedly. What was a plane doing in this blasted future-world?

More importantly: what was it doing here?

"It sounds low." Sharon craned her neck, looking here and there for the plane. "But that's strange; there's no airport, no landing strip - we're not even near any usual flight paths, as far as I know." She glanced at John, considering. "Could whatever we crashed the Jeep into ... whatever brought us here ... have extended into the air?"

TAG: Fins, TGI

 

ooc: For the first time I really had to think about how to write this, after receiving the PM from Fin. My humble result. What doesn´t kill you only makes you stranger . . .

Laura Blohm
Garage, Carl-Cohn-Straße

The bullet ripped into her shoulder and send her to the ground. She had not imagined a gunshot to be that painful. But her helpless gasp seemed not an adequate expression of the pain she felt. The concrete was hard and cold. And Markus screamed and talked to the other man. And the other man. And pain. And something cold. And something warm. Blood. Her blood. She realized the wound was possibly fatal. Or did this man wanted her to stay alive? Why should he? Why?

Her future self had not told her about this one. Maybe it had not happened to her. alternate timelines. Laura smiled and exhausted smile under the pain. For thinking of that in the face of death. Cold. She felt the cold in her hand. The gun. She still had the gun. THINK! THINK! She gasped and tried to come up. "Warte!" She tried to yell, but it wasalmost a whisper. And another wave of pain threatend to make her collapse to the ground again. "Wait!" She tried English, this time a little more decisive.

Tag: Fin, Mitth

 

Chapter VII: Family. And other problems.

Garage, Carl-Cohn-Straße

Michael stepped forward and his elbow hammered into Markus head. Forcing him aside, while lifting his gun again. It pointed right at Laura´s chest, while she tried to get back to her feet. "My orders come from Stürmer." He hissed and Laura begged for him to wait. "Pistole weg!" He yelled, his finger applying pressure on the trigger. With a short look he checked Markus. "Tell her to drop her gun, Finkman!" He order his former colleague.

Tag: Mitt, Sirak

---

[color=orangered][b]
Chapter VIII: The Passenger[/b][/color]

[i]Flight 2440, Desert of Nevada, Near Ely[/i]

The plane began to slowly drop it´s nose and one could see, that tihs was not a landing maneauver from the school book. But also everybody could easily see, that the Boing was coming down. It had just passed the Corben´s Inn, when Vincent announced it over the speaker. "Everybody tighten your seatbelts. We need to do an emergency landing. I repeat, we need to do an emergency landing. And if anybody of you can fly, now is the time to tell me." He hissed. Of course nobody could.
Tony took a nip from his drink and looked up to the original owner of the 1st Class, as he came back. sumiko and the old man now sat Andy into a seat and tightened the seatbelt. The older man stumbled to the two young women. "Nobody there. Everybody is gone. We´re all alone now. All alone now." He shook his head and smiled. "Where is everybody?" He asked Sumiko. And then sat down himself. That was the first moment the first rumbling went through Flight 2440. And the moment they passed the Corben´s Inn in low flight and much too fast for a landing . . .

[b]Tag: Leigh, Spy[/b] (all others can go on with their dialogues. But might see or hear this)

 

IC: Markus J. F. Christianson
Garage, Carl-Cohn-Straße

With a single step his world exploded into spots, it was surreal in a way, all those different colored spots swam in his vision as he hit the floor. Why had he done that, why had he positioned himself so? Just for a single person?

Sitting back up he slowly blinked trying to stay focused. Hearing words rolling over his senses like so much water over a rocky brook, he saw through the spots the positions taken by both. Somewhere under his sore back was the probably busted remains of the device he had held behind him, the culprit of the current back and left hand pain. Not even Picard would have trouble figuring out who to phaser in this situation. Still, things were never as simple as a TV show, especially when one didn't have a stun gun, or even a laser.

Nodding he recognized as he leaned against his own knee, other bent to lay on the floor as he brought an elbow against each. "L-Laura you have to, please. For Alicia's sake." it felt oddly hollow as those words left his lips. As if what had driven him forward all this time had simply been boiled away in a holy fire that burned his very soul to bare the wretched humanity at it's core. For Alicia's sake seemed to ring in his ears as he blinked hard against the spots, knowing it would do no good and time the only cure.

"Michael, orders change. You know that. . .and right now she isn't a threat she's an asset that was recently flipped in interogation against my Ex. She was her assistant, do you think I would be doing this at all if she wasn't going to help us take down my ex who experimented on my own daughter!" the words were spilling, forced through a cracking voice as he sat there in a barely collected heap. For Alicia's sake once more range. Was it really for her's? Or was it his own that drove him now.

He prayed it was more for her's then his, but doubted it just the same.

TAG: Sirak, Fin

 

Chapter X: And Prometheus played with fire . . .


Somewhere in Boston

It was another alley, another night. But Godot was still haunted by the grinning reflection of his own face. His own mask. Of Caleb he had found no further sign. Except the news. Who reported many men of that name had been responsible for the lockdown of a hospital. But THE Caleb was nowhere to be found.

The feeling to be watched, lurked upon from the dark never left Godot though.

"You look exactly like I imagined you, you know that?" The voice in the alley came from behind.

[image=http://www.probertencyclopaedia.com/j/John%20Simm.jpg]

The man had his hands pushed into his pockets of his jacket and a dry smile on his lips. But his eyes were sad, haunted. He nodded to Godot. "I´ve been looking for you. My name is Jimmy and I think you call yourself . . . Godot, right? Godot, I have something for you." He smiled again and slowly removed his fist from his right pocket. "there is something you need to do. and don´t aks me what, because I have no idea. But something there is . . . " The Man nodded. As if it made sense what he was saying.

Tag: Ramza


Flat of Father McEneny, Near St. Thomas Church

The days since he had met Father Roselli had been short. And he had found less disbelief than one could have imagined. The Change had brought all kinds of strange tihngs to the surface. The return of the dead as restless spirits was only one more of those things . . .

But the church had done nothing. Nothing substantial, at least. What could they do?
[image=http://northstarfund.org/events/assets_c/2009/03/David_Strathairn-thumb-400x591-41.jpg]
So it was almost ofrgotten. Buried to make place of other problems . . . when the door of Father McEneny´s small flat rang. Outside was an elder man with glasses who smiled friendly, as the door was opened. "Father? I am Professor Moore from the Havard University. I am the dirctor of Prometheus. An organisation to research the change and I would need your help. I hope you can help, at least. Could I have a minute?"

Tag: BobaMatt


Alex´s House, Middlesex

The sherrif gave Alex a long look. Then he nodded and smiled. "sure. Do that. Guess that fool has forgotten his radio or something. I´ll check the factory tomorrowo and let you know what was there, ey?" The Sherrif padded his shoulder and went back into his car. As he drove away the mouthless girl slipped out of Alex car. She had pulled a blanket that had been in there aroudn her shoulders but was still freezing. With her peircing eyes she looked at alex and then at the car again.

Tag: Kahn

 

Andrea ?Andy? Rebecca Baker
Flight 2440 - Somewhere in Nevada - Perhaps Ely

The swirl of activity, her mind whirling, caused memories to flood her mind. Her father. Why had she not been able to see her father one last time? Just once? Andrea thought in her mind that the parents were supposed to die before the children. But she had defeated that idea. Her mother was dead, buried in the cemetery. The Italian cemetery. Andrea could see the people dressed in black, her mother dressed in her beautiful purple dress and wearing her pearls. She usually only wore her pearls on her best occasions. Why was she wearing it then? The depression on the event still struck Andrea.

Someone had one arm, Sumiko, she thought, and the old man had her other. Andrea heard Vincent say they were making an emergency landing, but the plane was moving too fast, so fast, and the rumbling started again. At first, Andrea suspected that everything was happening over, that she was going to be shot again, but Sumiko still gripped her arm, the old man holding her other.They led her to a chair, strapping her down. Andrea heard the screaming, the cries, and wondered who was making all the noise. Then she closed her mouth and the noises stopped. She realized she was screaming. ?Vinnie!? she wailed, louder perhaps than anything she had yelled in her life. ?Vinnie!? She started thrashing, then stopped.

She was going to die.

And with that thought, the fainting came back.

TAG: Leigh, Fins (They may be others soon)

 

Laura Blohm
Garage, Carl-Cohn-Straße

She would travel back from hte future, right? She could not die? The gun in her hand was heavy. She had prepared it right? Safety of, bullet in the chamber by oushing back the slide on the upoper side. She had seen computer generated hands do that a thousand times in Roberts games. But were they correct? Realistic? Wasn´t there anything else that kept a human from killing another? Anything? Probably not. She only had to pull the trigger. Could she? Kill someone?

Markus seemed to beg her. For his daughter. To kill a colleague. A police man. There would be no going back then. Was it what her other self had done?

Laura´s head began to hurl. Swirl out of control. She was trembling a bit. But she looked up at the German ESTI guy. Michael. And at his gun. Was he faster than her? Certainly he was. But he would miss. Or be too slow this one time. because she would life. She would time travel. She would come back to tell her . . .

Laura ended all questions. She ripped her gun into the air, holding it in both hands. Pointed it at Michael and pulled the trigger. She found the second time easier. As if the gun was supporting her now that it had been called awake.

The world vanished in the thunder of a shot.

Tag: Fin

 

John Henley
Desert of Nevada

He watched the airplane tremble. Shake. The nose to low, the speed to high. It was about to crash. Most likely everybody on board would be dead, soon. Probably nobody would ever find out, except them. The anomaly spreading into air . . . he gave it a thought. "Well, at the risk to sound like a teenager looking Star Truck all day . . . I think time, physically, is not bound to space. Therefore any anomaly in time, will probably not be limited to one place." John smiled. "I read the Science Today every month. Please don´t tell anybody. It doesn´t fit into the idea of the all american guy my management has worked so hard to establish." Maybe that was actually the answer to a lot of questions the news posed lately. Time was no longer on their side.

John looked at Sharon again. So, he had shot her future self. An enraged future self. Why would she be so angry at herself? Well, John was angry at himself. Maybe you did not need a good reason for it. Maybe you just needed to stare long enough into the mirror.

"I think we should go back to the others. Tell them we have no medicine and plan what to do about these new arrivals. What do you think?" He asked and his eyes did not leave that plane that was coming down. It would crash near Corben´s, would it?

Tag: Xany, Fin