TREMORS
tremors
GREGORY PAYNE
The docks in Seattle, WA, the Pike St Ferry. The drug shipment was set to go out at 1 am. The approach to the ferry loading bay is through the tunnels of a massive parking garage. Cars, trucks, Bicycles, and pedestrian traffic all have pathways to make way through the docking system. This late at night, the pedestrian pathways were empty except for my target, Agent James Mason.
I got wind of his attempt at disrupting the shipment, and sure enough he made way onto the boat, planting some explosive devise set probably, to discharge at some depth. And the whole shipment would sink into the Puget Sound. He would be able to watch, smug with his goody delight at picking at the scabs of a wounded world.
I am Gregory Payne. I have been reduced to the foolish task of making money to merely live. Fortunes change. I took the job. in my black turtleneck and cargo pants. Boots, hood. I love Seattle. It's fashionable to look like a terrorist operative. 6'3" weighing a 293 heavy pounds. muscled for battle, idle waiting for the trap to be sprung.
James Mason, the poor man that must die, he would have to walk to the parking facility on 1st street. He would walk past the old 22 story red brick Ships Bell Hotel, now another refit to be one of those detestable Starbucks. (They pushed drugs, and it was called cuisine. The Syndicate pushes, its a crime. Irony)
The old brick wall, set with a side venting explosive aiming head level at a range of 3' to give our agent a brick splattering funeral as soon as he walks past the laser "tripwire." He's coming! And YES! He walks into the box! A 30 x 30 area by adjacent the wall. I activate laser trips surrounding his position and watch from across the street in the Warfer bar. If he misses the primary, he will retreat into secondaries that bring the whole wall down instead.
I start to leave, exit the bar, the light cold air refreshing.
Then some dark fate speaks. The ground shakes. Seattle is very seismically active, so it seems. Its not much of a tremor. Maybe a 4. The dust falling from the bricks. NO! NO NO NO NO! My blood raged and I feel my augmented muscles flex trying to act, tearing my boned painfully with their enhanced power. Anger is not good for me. As I feared dust falling from the old wall illuminated the laser box. SHIT!
-
The earth shakes James, and you see lining the sidewalk, a hazy box of red laser light circling the sidewalk and crisscrossing in front of you, illuminated by the dust. To get to your car you must go up the hill. left of you is another laser line 2' from your ankle. behind you a crisscrossing of 6 lines from many points.
Behind you is the special syndicate ferry set to sink shortly after shoving off.
- - - -
AGENT JAMES MASON
The Syndicate was at it again, this time in Seattle, WA. It was a bit far from my normal stomping grounds, but we still maintained fairly good relations with the Yanks, and no one was more familiar with the Syndicate operations than me. I'd made it my personal mission to bring them down, bit by bit, operative by operative, shipment by shipment.
They had developed a new drug, with the street name B. It caused a highly addictive state of blissful euphoria in about 90% of users. But in the other 10.... it caused brutal psychotic breaks. They'd tried pushing this drug in London, taking over the local organizations, flooding the city with it. They had raked in the cash, and the resulting chaos, the rash of bizarre murders from psychotic bastards going on a rampage had nearly brought the city to it's knees. I had spent nearly three months infiltrating their distribution organization, going deep undercover, until I discovered the link with the Syndicate. From there, I used ... other channels... to figure out where the head of the snake was, and cut it off. I still had nightmares about some of the shit I saw as a result of B.
When we got word that the Syndicate was spreading their operations to Seattle to try again, we let our Yankee mates in on the tip. To our shock, they actually listened and behaved with something approaching rationality and requested my aid in exchange for other favors. So here I was in Seattle in the middle of the night. It reminded me a bit of London, the cold, the damp. Not the people though. I was still getting used to the strange vibe of the culture here. Part goth, part save the planet all mixed up into a very interesting stew. I had decided I liked it though.
It had been easy enough to disguise myself as a night watchman for the ferry port and plant a timed C4 charge on the ship which was carrying, cleverly smuggled in it's hold, a shipment of B worth about 10 million pounds. When it made it's way out into the Puget sound the next day, it would soon be exploring the wonders of the sea floor. Awkward for the crew and the ship, since it was not a submarine. I chuckled to myself.
It was a bit chilly tonight, as I walked out of the tunnel leading from the parking garage which served as the entrance to the ferry loading bay. I had changed out of my night watchmen's disguise, and now wore a simple pair of jeans, casual shoes, and a simple white button up. I had a overcoat on, and pulled it tight against the cold. The overcoat also helped conceal the pistol and knife that I rarely went without, strapped onto my belt. I always took precautions, I didn't think my mission had been compromised, but I didn't become an MI6 agent by being optimistic. Be prepared. Always. For anything.
I started whistling as I left the tunnel, a large brick hotel towered over me to my right, and to my left, across the street, an old, run down bar, "Warfer" apparently. Strange name for a pub. I see nothing unusual in my surroundings, and I only have to get up to the top of the hill to reach my car and get back to my lodgings for some sleep.
Suddenly, the earth shakes. What the... I freeze, brace myself, balancing perfectly. Not a large tremor, but enough to cause a fine haze of dust to sift down from the old bricks to the street. Every sense I possessed went from it's normal high alert to red alert as the deadly red lines of laser light popped into focus, courtesy of the dust. Well. Apparently nature had just saved my life. I had no doubt this was a trap, and it was for me. Whoever had set this trap would no doubt be in the vicinity, and I was not about to stay frozen here like a duck in a shooting gallery.
The lasers were thickly crisscrossing the area, and it was only sheer chance that I had not tripped them yet. Looking behind me, they were just as thickly active, and I realized that the whole system had likely only activated as soon as I walked into the perfect kill zone. Someone had been watching for me. I scanned the area... I swallowed. Outside the bar stood a very large man, and he did not look at all happy. He looked like a terrorist on steroids, and strangely, he almost fit in. He was definitely suspect number one.
I slide my ankle back from the line nearest me, judging the distance behind me I needed to get past to be clear of the laser lines. There was no time to carefully walk through the crisscrossed network of lines, he might have another way of triggering his trap. I turned, coiled up my legs like huge springs, and leapt forward in a huge leaping dive, clearing the over 8 feet of criss crossing lasers, back towards the tunnel to the ferry loading bay. It was a massive leap.
I kept my 220lbs of muscle in top physical form, and trained intensively for all situations. My time in the SAS had taught me that my most valuable weapon and defense was my body. I shoulder rolled onto the pavement, then sprang up to my feet, darting suddenly behind a large litter bin, reaching down inside my overcoat to pull out my pistol. Looks like it might be a long night.
- - - -
GREGORY PAYNE
You leap and jump for cover and hope for the best. You hit the ground and behind you a detonation - ka-FOOOMMMM!!!! If you were standing there seconds ago, the explosive device set in the wall would have blows a half ton of bricks at you with incredible violence! Your trapmaster, however, did not plan for the Tremors beforehand. The Ship's Bell was old, built on top of old things. Over its years, Seattle had been victim to earthquake and fire. The coming collapse will not come as a surprise to many locals, but a terrible spectacle to behold. Your leap carries you up the hill away from the slope of the collapse. It falls seaward and toward the Warfer. A huge plume of dust rises and billows over the area as the red brick wall comes down and the floors of the building after it. The baked red bricks sound almost glass like falling like pottery!
if that alarm isn't enough for you, the pavement under you cracks! before you can move position, through the plume of dust, my raging attack arrives... I hit you in a rushing tackle and the pavement cracks..!
TUMBLING AND FALLING!
We land in an amazing underground place
https://www.citypass.com/articles/seattle/underground-tour-highlights-seattles-strange-history
you land here>>>
https://erikatlas.blogspot.com/2020/06/seattle-underground.html
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tsqRP0ualoI&list=WL&index=2&t=0s
Debris still raining down from the wreckage above, dim lights show an underworld hidden from most eyes. I tackle you hard again and land on you!
"This is better and better..." said with a thick Russian accent, dripping in sarcasm. I strip off my jacket revealing a muscle furry body, power and masculine excellence. "And now I kill you Agent Mason. It will be painful."
- - - -
AGENT JAMES MASON
I must admit, I'm not entirely surprised when suddenly there is a detonation, followed by an eruption of bricks and dust. I don't even have time to think as the wave of bricks and glass and the guts of a building as old as the city spill out onto the street, raising an impenetrable curtain of dust.
The collapse must have destabilized the ground under me, because suddenly the pavement I'm standing on cracks and I scramble frantically to keep my footing, any thoughts of being the target of an assassination attempt temporarily replaced by the higher priority of staying on my feet. But, out of the dust something huge leaps out and tackles me.
A creature of some kind, it must be, huge and hairy and massive, my pistol is knocked clear out of my grip as suddenly the pavement cracks and disintegrates beneath us, and we tumble and fall in a spiraling chaotic fury filled with whirling debris and sifting dust. We hit with a crunch down below. I'm hurt, and dazed by the fall. Debris is sifting down through the air, and I look around in amazement at what looks to be some kind of underground street, dusty, shabby, littered with wooden debris.
I try to get up, but suddenly the creature that I took for a bear tackles me again, and I'm pinned hard to the ground. Oh man, as if that fall wasn't enough. I look up and see that my attacker is not a bear, but a mountain of a man, and as you strip your jacket off my eyes pop out of my head at the thick dense furry hairy muscle. It's mind boggling. Your accent is thick, clearly Russian and somehow your statement concerning my impending death doesn't really surprise me.
I gasp from your heavy weight on top of me, managing to get out in a wheeze, "Would you mind terribly if we were to postpone my imminent death? It's really not convenient just now." My hand clutching, searching for anything grabs a large wooden pole, discarded for who knows how long, I swing it desperately towards your head needing to get your massive weight off of me before my ribs get crushed.
- - - -
GREGORY PAYNE
I fall and land without harm... my reflexes and training paying off. As fate would have it , landing on top of you. "I am inconvenient.." I laugh... but UAWGHGH! You rock me off you with the strike from that wooden beam... Rolling to my feet as you do, you see my chest and skin WRITHE with strange textures like snakes forming and moving under my skin and my eyes blaze with FURY. "NOW you will pay..." I close and grab the wooden beam from your hands tearing it hard from your grip! Tossing it aside closing to grapple
- - - -
AGENT JAMES MASON
I'm stunned as you rip that wooden beam out of my hands as if I were a little kid. The strange writhing and odd movement beneath your skin strike me as utterly unnatural. What kind of freak was I dealing with? This was unreal!
I roll aside, needing to keep my distance. Grappling with you would be a supremely bad idea, but I might not have any choice. I back up and bump against a wooden beam. Maybe, just maybe, speed is my advantage. I sure as hell hoped so, because otherwise I was afraid my death might be very imminent indeed. I tensed, forming a quick plan. Surely, with all your mass, you would not be able to stop or change directions easily once you committed to a charge. I waited, hoping you would charge at me, then I would dive out of the way at the last second and let you smash yourself against the wooden beam behind me.
- - - -
GREGORY PAYNE
Grinning madly with the fury roiling in me. OH you had to hit me. No matter, I have come here to shred your body to parts. Wordless in my thoughts I charge at you ready for you to dodge and flee - You move fast and I hit the beat WITH MY FEET and LAUNCH off the beat at your back... I HIT your back!! we tumble again...
"NOW you will know power and Payne!" Right handed - I GRAB your left pectoral muscle in an IRON grip pulling you into me rolling - you land on your back pulled into my legs - they CLAMP on your body and lock hard and tight - I feel the augmentations in my legs fire on and the crushing power GRINDS into you hard! My fingers drill into your chest and bruising becomes a leaking set of cuts into your skin! LEFT fist up ready to hammer you over and over...
- - - -
AGENT JAMES MASON
I'm fast, but apparently not only are you massive, you are just as fast. Fuck. You slam into my back like a MAC truck. Actually, a MAC truck might have been slightly preferable. I'm thrown heavily to the ground, we roll and suddenly your right hand seizes my thick, powerful left pec through my shirt. I gasp from the pressure, as your fingers dig into my hard muscle like miniature spears, snapping muscle fibers and wrecking my proud pec.
But worse is yet to come, as we roll, your legs open like a steel trap, but sadly for me, your legs appear to be slightly harder than steel as the wrap around my core. Then, I feel a strange writhing coming from your legs, my skin crawls in disgust,and then I feel the pressure. I gasp and my eyes bulge out of my sockets, the pressure is enormous. I try to hold a flex, and keeping my abs flexed is taking every single ounce of strength and willpower I possess. I know I can't keep the flex for long, I've never felt strength like this before. I don't know what you are, but you aren't entirely ... human. Suddenly I gasp again, your fingers have driven so deeply into the thick meat of my pecs that they punctured the muscle in several places, and my shirt begins to turn dark and damp from the leaking blood.
You are literally tearing me apart. I guess it's time to see how good I am. My SAS training sure never prepared for anything quite like this. But I'm good at improvisation. Your left fist rises up as you have me trapped in the body scissors. My left pec is a lost cause at this point, the pain is lancing through the muscle like a flood, and I have no choice but to ride it like a surfer rides a wave. I have to get free, or I'll be killed. I can't keep the flex up much longer.
My body, my will, my mind are all being pushed to the limit. I reach up with my right hand, hold it like a post, and catch your left fist as it hammers down. It's like someone hits my hand with a goddamn sledgehammer, but I can't let that fist hammer me. I concentrate, trying to hold your fist.
My left hand reaches out, and grabs your beard, just able to reach. My bicep flexes as I pull your head close to me by your beard, my arm trembles. The savage damage to my left pec continues, and my left arm is weakened considerably as a result. But I get your head in closer, then suddenly, release your beard, and drive both my fingers into your eyes. If that doesn't make you let go... oh fuck. That might be the end of Agent James Mason. My flexed abs are starting to buckle... I can't hold much longer.... My left pec is about to be torn off my chest... blood staining my shirt... I've been in a lot of tight spots before... but not like this.
- - - -
GREGORY PAYNE
I can never escape the engulfing emotional fury when my augmentations engage - but there is a calm space in my head that watches life like a biologist dissecting a frog. I see you panicking - and you should. My hand is set into you pectoral muscle and now not just breaking skin, TEARING muscle. blood now soaking your handsome nice clean shirt. Your body trained for lethal fighting flexing hard but this is a losing battle and I feel your body compress and crush inward.
YOU CATCH my fist!
Impressive - almost laughing at your childish attempt at pulling my beard as if you wished you could grow one, little man. Pulling back my fist you carve into my eyes!
The pain in my head and face is blinding and my calm laboratory of clinical observation shatters. "I WILL KILL YOU!" My legs and arms shudder from the pain loosening your discomfort for moments but you can not gain escape from my hand locked into your pectoral muscle. I TWIST roughly SHAKING your body - even blinded I KNOW where you are. My legs flex harder and I couldn't stop them if I wanted to - the attack routine is locked in and rage robs me of turns on this road. I just want to hear you groan and cry in pain.
The GROUND HEAVES like waves in earth. The seers of science have warned this part of the city will fall in the ocean one day and suddenly precariously tilts 10 degrees that direction rolling us!
We settle and you are forced face down, my legs still around you - I am recovering sight as i see my bloody hand somehow freed from your chest. Am sad - wanted to see your torn pectoral in my hand.
My keepers will have to reset me. I am an animal right now and won't be able to report. I hate my life. I hate this place. I hate YOU! [do not ask why, I don't even remember] MY legs SQUEEZE you driving your face into the dirty tunnel floor. Writhing augmentations ripple under the skin of my legs - and you have a handsome ass - SLAP that ass as you suffer and die...
- - - -
AGENT JAMES MASON
My fingers jabbed into your eyes buys some slight relief, but not much. It's enough though, just enough to slide my body forward so that your deadly thighs are over my hips, before suddenly the scissors comes back stronger than ever. Not before time, because my flex collapsed utterly at that point, I had no strength left to keep it up.
My right hand lowers like a supporting beam, locking onto your incredibly powerful thigh, my entire right side straining to keep your legs from slipping fully back over my abs and ribs.
I'm being tested and pushed to my utter limits.... and beyond. I want to scream with the agony as you further shred my left pec, more blood seeping out. It's totally ruined. The pain is unbelievable. My abs and ribs are throbbing, and now, even my hips are starting to ache as your incredible strength threatens to crush my pelvic bone.
You shake my body as if I were some kind of chew toy in the mouth of a rabid dog, the force is stunning, and all I can do is breathe through the pain, and keep my right hand locked onto your thigh. If those legs slip back around my abs and core, I'm a dead man.
Then, the earth heaves again, and we roll across the dirty, shattered remnants of a Seattle from the past. Debris raining down over our heads, chunks of dirt and rock and half-rotten wood sleeting down through a lowering haze of dust. Nothing matters to me right now but one thing.... I AM NOT GOING TO DIE HERE.
My right arm is locked onto your thigh with every ounce of power I can muster, focused on one thing only, keep those legs from crushing my ribs. Already, savage pain is lancing through my hips, I don't how much I can take before my hips shatter, but certainly more than my ribs can take.
We end up with me on my belly and you crush even harder. I'm shocked as I feel you slap my ass. What the hell?
I don't even begin to know what to make of you, but I have to get free. I HAVE TO. There is right in front of us a crack in the earth, opened up from the aftershock. Hanging out over the large crack, about 6 feet wide, is a water pipe, spraying rust-colored liquid down into the abyss. If I let go of my right hand, and reach out I can just reach the pipe. My left hand is useless, paralyzed by the destruction of my left pec.
I release my right hand, and with all my strength I grab the pipe. My right bicep flexes like the guns of a battleship, and I heave suddenly, every ounce of what I've got left in my powerful, battle-forged muscle going into this effort.
Your legs effortlessly slip back around my ribs, and immediately, my core is crushed, cut in half my your terrible power. I scream then, a scream of savage fury, the will to live, as my right bicep flexes, causing the seams of my shirt to rip open from the effort, and I pull us both over the edge, into the chasm, swinging by one hand on that pipe.
The momentum of our swing BASHES your head brutally against the side of the chasm as you hang from my midsection by your deadly scissors. I can't hold this long, already every muscle up and down my right side is screaming at me in agony. I can barely breathe, and spots are appearing before my eyes, and SNAPPPPPPPPPPPp... I feel one of my ribs crack under the pressure, a spray of blood erupting from my mouth.
- - - -
GREGORY PAYNE
I see you crying in pain...screaming... my cock throbs watching you fight for your life. You are lost, but valiant to the last moment. This is why they tapped me to kill you. I feel your body crumbling like so many men have - it's a sick thrill - I see you grabbing over the cracked crevasse opening - I regrip and NOW I have your ribs. I lean back and look up to multiply my leverage more and feel you crumbling under my power.
I have you - YOU ARE DEAD!
And then nature proves again she hates me. A chasm has opened. The whole city may crush us soon and you pull us IN!? You PULL on some leverage point!
I had never seen the depths of this kind of hell before - my face smashed on the rocks and can not dare let go of you....my head swimming from that hard hit, bleeding badly, legs around you holding me - I feel my augments trying to compensate - head damage forcing systems to restart...
LEGS spasm... and my grip around your collapsing core is spoiled!
Falling...
You see Gregory Payne drop into the chasm, 18' wide and unseen in depth.
AUGHhhhh! A cry of pain then a splash!
- - - -
AGENT JAMES MASON
Screaming in agony, bleeding badly, my chest getting wetter and wetter with the blood of mangled left pec, blood spraying out of my mouth as you pulverize my core with your inhumanely strong legs. I sway back and forth on the pipe, my right arm screaming at me, the tendons stretching, my fingers slipping slowly despite everything I can do, it feels like my shoulder is about to be pulled from the socket. I'm thinking that nothing is going to make you let go, thinking you are simply going to cut me in half, pulverize my powerful core to the consistency of jelly, then you drop.
Plummeting down into the dark depths of the chasm. There is a splash. But I can't think about that. I have to think about how to get out of this situation. I'm so tired... so drained. So hurt. So ... physically and mentally broken.
But.. I WILL NOT DIE HERE. NOT TODAY. I yell at myself, and gather myself for another effort. Screaming in pain, spraying blood from my mouth, I swing back and forth by my single arm, building momentum until I catch my legs back on the ledge. The pipe creaks, stress fractures in the rusted metal starting to give, already pushed beyond their limit when they held both of our weight.
I use my legs to painfully pull my body closer to the lip of the chasm, somehow managing to briefly use my practically useless left arm to inch hand over hand on the pipe. Every time I try to flex my left arm, the ruins of my pec emit a ripping surge of agony that makes me want to vomit. But I manage it, finally scrambling onto the dubious safety of the ground. I stagger up to my feet, and walk a few steps away from the edge of the chasm, almost in a daze. How to get out of here. Then, astonished.. my legs tremble... and I collapse like a felled redwood, my body demanding that I make good on the debt I'd accumulated in the last few harrowing minutes.
- - - -
IN THE UNDERGROUND
A young woman, brunette, she walks through the dark corridors of the under city with her friends. Wolf-Cat- as she calls herself - is wearing her black velvet vape, and the fangs she had made by Viktor Moray, the legendary costume fang maker in the city. Of course her mother named her Darla, not "Wolf-Cat" - she chose that in a spiritual ceremony dedicated to the Goddess Athena. She and her friends Shelly and Jake were in the tunnels when the first tremor hit. It was Friday and that when they played their Live Action Role Play (LARP) "Vampire - The Splattering". (Welcome to Seattle)
She sees you staggering out of the rift in the ground, covered in blood, staggering and dazed. She holds up a hand halting her companions, "Halt ! There is walking dead here!" Shelly is on her phone looking at her screen and Jake is groping her ass. Shelly looks up, "That tremor was not just a little thing. It was a 6.6! We should go." She looks up at James and lets out a scream sharply noticing that this part of the under city is actually sliding toward toe Puget Sound. "This is terrible! Darla, he's not undead. He's hurt!"
"Don't call me Darla!" Wolf-Cat/Darla hisses back.
Jake rushes up to you and stops 5 feet away looking at you in some undisguised horror. "Dude, let me help you. I had a first-aid class. You don't look good. We need to get you out of here!" The ladies follow up quickly and Wolf-Cat strips off her cape. Her silly games evaporate and she sees you are seriously injured. "He looks like he's going into shock," says the young lady. She smiles at you with the most convincing fangs you have ever seen, holding up a cape. "Let me make you warm. You need help. Shelly 911 - now!" She wraps the cape around you. It smells of roses and is amazingly warm.
"I hope the phone works... OHmaygawd...yes hi... I have a man here... he's injured badly....I know there was an earthquake..." Shelly works out the details with the 911 operator. "Jake, there's a huge crisis going above. Pike Place just fell into the Sound!" They all freeze in horror, the apocalyptic disaster that's been foretold over and over again had finally happened. The Big One. "Ok, we have to get out of here. Let's get to Tacoma, My sister lives next to a hospital."
Jake pulls off his shirt revealing a ripped skater body, pale, with a chase of fuzzy hair down the middle, and slowly comes to you. "Dude...you're a mess. This going to hurt." He pressed his shirt over your pec and put it back in place. The pain is INCREDIBLE....
"Here..." he says catching you. "You should hold this. Your chest is really torn up man. Did, like, a dog bite you?"
They start guiding you up a path and holding you physically upright... You look at the chasm Payne fell into and see no movement.
- - - -
AGENT JAMES MASON
After an uncertain amount of time lying senseless on the dirty underground street, near the edge of the chasm I suddenly come back to consciousness. The pain in my chest is what I remember first, sickening, stabbing, ripping, tearing, bleeding pain in my left pec. It's ruined. The pain digs into my skull like knives. It's so bad that I turn aside and vomit messily. Oh god...
Then I feel my ribs and abs... I cough, and choke up some blood. One or more of my ribs are broken, and bad. But I can't stay here, I get up, staggering away from the rift, and I suddenly I feel like I've fallen into a strange otherworldly universe, stranger than the one where I just fell into a hole and was nearly killed by some kind of inhuman monster.
Strange people in strange costumes suddenly surround me, and I'm so dazed I can't even quite understand what they are talking about. I try to focus, and a man rushes up to me and says I don't look good. That much is true. I look stupidly at him, my chest leaking blood, I'm feeling weak from the blood loss and collapse into his arms.
The woman in some kind of stylish cape rushes forward, and courteously wraps the cape around me. My nose picks up the definite scent of roses, and it is incredibly warm. The other lady makes a call to 911. I do probably need a hospital. then the news - the city above might be in ruins. the rustic sea-side market Pike place had been claimed by the ocean.
The man pulls off his shirt, and uses it to staunch the bleeding on my chest. I scream once, and turn to vomit again, but I hold the shirt tight, shaking through the pain. If I don't control the bleeding I'll pass out again. Shakily, the three strangers escort me out of hell. Seattle was indeed a strange place. But even after all that happened, I still liked it. It was full of good people. I didn't think that monster, Payne, was from Seattle.. ..
The mission debriefing when I get back to London is going to be interesting.
EMERGING FROM THE UNDERGROUND
The three LARPers escort you from the underground converging with other people dressed as Vampires and Zombies. Columns of smoke rise up into the night air and the rain spatters on the pavement. The city rocked by riots last month and now by an actual devastating earthquake reels and bleeds. You meet a man with long black hair, muscled like a fighter, and decked out with the best fangs walks up to you. "Uhhhhhh Shelly, you guys look bad. Who is this?"
"We found him in the tunnels. He fell from the street level probably. We were going to take him to Tacoma and out of the disaster. He's a norm not a player," Shelly said indicating he isn't playing a Vampire.
You stand before the local legend Viktor Moray looking you over. "Uhhhhh wow, he looks bad. He's not making it to Tacoma. Uhhhh... ok. Put him in my van. I'm taking him to Sea-Tac." The small community south of Seattle was where all flights came in and out of the area.
You get gently put into the side door of a junk and tool filled Volkswagen van. As the door slams, a huge iguana crawls up to you from the back and sits in your lap, nuzzling your badly bruised stomach and licks blood from your arm. Viktor climbs in and looks you over. "Don't mind Iggy, he likes you," he says. The engine guns like a WWI airplane starting and you take a harrowing ride south past city wreckage to the hospital and safety.
GREGORY PAYNE
I groan in pain as something stabs me. An unfortunate humanoid screams as I show signs of life. I have been floating for some time and no idea how I made it to the water. Boats mill about in the Sound queuing up to make it to open ocean to avoid possible tsunamis flowing in to make the earthquake worse.
How is it I chose this day to kill Mason? I am bleeding from the head and taste water that has been tainted with gads know what. I notice the man was using a meathook on a pole as if I were a whale carcass. "I will kill you with broken bones and unearthly horrors if you stab me again!"
The man apologies in a strange English tainted with Inuit. I see he is not a typical American. Good. There is a chance he is a real man. "You will be rewarded thank you," I manage. He pulls me on board to the sensation of 10,000 pains. This stinking fishing vessel is littered with bodies, men, women, dogs, children. I am saved by a strong man, doing a grim job on a day of misfortune. I already like him.
I cough up horrors of the depths and scream in pain. It's good. He hands me a bottle, unmarked. It's a fresh hell of some kind of vodka and I don't care. "Now you've done it. You will be lavishly rewarded for that. It is good."
The man smiles briefly a smile like a snowfence in Minsk - looks like brown planks with broken slats. I return the bottle to him. He insists I have more. And why not.. The sun is up and the day is clear...
I nearly spit my lungs up as the silence of the Sound is broken by an incredible gut shaking explosion. One of the drifting ferrys from the docks blows to pieces and sinks to the floor of the Sound quickly.
Mason.
His dirty deed is now done and the shipment of B is gone. What a gad forsaken night. I look at my right hand, still red and rusty with Mason's blood. I chuckle as the blessing of vodka leeches into me. I stand ...and immediately sit. The fisherman looks at me with horror and insists I sit.
I SIT
I DRINK
I plan...
I watch the city burn
[end]
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