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Rated: 18+ · Interactive · Action/Adventure · #1717253
You're a super hero who likes women's feet.
This choice: The Main Entrance  •  Go Back...
Chapter #3

The Main Entrance

    by: batman1 Author IconMail Icon
Luckily, you managed to spot the main entrance, a set of wooden doors that were barely hanging off of their hinges.
With a sigh, you took out your cable gun and fastened one end of the wire to a chimney on the building.
"Here goes nothing," you say as you fasten the other end to your belt buckle, and begin to grapple down to ground level.
A few moments later, you landed quietly on the pavement, rolling to your feet and standing up. You crossed the street and quickly reached the entrance. You looked both ways to make sure she didn't have any of her henchman out on duty tonight. Your eyes darted left and right before resting on the doors, each one littered with cracks and scars. There was an empty hole where the doorknob should've been, revealing nothing but darkness inside, almost beckoning you to it. You peered through the hole, only to spot a few dilapidated chairs lying around in the lobby, but nothing too suspicious.
Unfortunately for you, this was about as welcome as it would get. Sighing, you opened the doors, each one croaking and moaning as the wood skidded across the floor, revealing the abandoned lobby.
As you entered into the warehouse, your boot passed through a silent alarm device, which shot a dark red beam through your boot. Oblivious to this, you continued into the lobby.
"She's really spiced up the place," you remark, smirking as you look at the hallway, time definitely leaving it's mark on the building. The furniture was dust-riddled and almost infested with spider webs, and there were more than enough holes in the walls.
After taking a quick look around, you heard a noticeable beeping sound from further in the building, emitting from the dark hallway. Oblivious to you, it might've been the alarm you just triggered.
Narrowing your eyes, you passed by the front desk before cautiously advancing through the hallway, the ceiling lights flickering on and off. As you passed through the dust tunnel, the beeping sound became more and more louder, increasing with each step.
Sweat began to form on your brow as you kept walking, until finally, you reached a set of double doors, obviously installed recently. The beeping sound emitted from behind those two doors. There was no telling what was in there. There was a swastika symbol painted on one of them, the paint starting to drip to the floor. Painted on the other door was a black skull. Obviously this was a last-ditch attempt to intimidate the intruder.
"Time to end this," you tell yourself, breathing deeply and hoping that your words will empower you to come face to face with the Nazi enthusiast herself, and put an end to her hate crimes.
You grabbed the doorknob and turned it, leading into the main room.
It was a very large and spacious room, obviously where everything would be made, assembled, and shipped off. You glanced around, trying to identify the source of the noise. Almost everything had been cleared out. The machinery was still intact, but was lined up against the walls. There was a conveyor belt dividing half of the room, along with a shelf filled to the brim with blueprints and drawings of her own diabolical plots.
“She’s been busy,” you remark, observing the interior of the warehouse. Many of the crates were unopened, and there was a fork lift truck still parked next to the crates. It looked abandoned, if not for her personal lair.
You narrowed your eyes and stared at her real hideout, one of her makeshift stakeouts consisting of a lumpy bed, and a metal chair along with a flat screen T.V. playing the mayor’s recent inauguration speech on loop.
As you started to walk forward to investigate more, your foot bumped against a large circular device, where the beeping noise emitted from. It was some sort of black round alarm device, where the noise was coming from. You picked it up and examined it, the alarm still wailing even in your hands.
“Now, you’re starting to annoy me,” you murmur, turning it over and finding the battery lid. With great joy, you plopped it off and ripped out the battery, along with the wiring. Instantly, the wailing died down.
You tossed it aside and noticed the large round table, where most of her arsenal was. You walk over to the table, and examined it. It was a plethora of weaponry, ranging from assault rifles, to World War 2 era sub-machine guns, then to car bombs, and knives. But even that was an understatement, given that there were at least five of those categories lying there before your eyes, the instruments of her crusade against the American way.
Examining the weapons table sent a slight tingling of fear through your spine, as you pondered who exactly would be the recipients of these weapons. Cringing at the sheer thought of this mastermind using these weapons against the fair people of the city, the corner of your eye did catch something though.
There was also a bulletin board next to the television set covered with various pictures of political and law enforcement officials, ranging from members of the city council, the city sheriff, even to the mayor himself. You walked over to the bulletin board. She had thrown several black darts at each picture, with dates attached to each one signifying when she would take them out. You unraveled the slips of paper attached to each date of her target's assassination. Many of the city councilmen had a date for this week, the city sheriff for next week. You unfolded the slip of paper attached to a dart pierced through the mayor's face, which read May 15th, which was the date tomorrow. She definitely had an agenda out, and wasn't leaving any names out. Even yours.
A particular picture caught your eye, one that was cut out of one of the city newspaper. Unsurprisingly enough, it was one of you, Hawk Boy himself. There were two darts sticking out of your torso, with one slip of paper attached to the right one. You unrolled it, as your eyes danced across the scribbled words.
Instantly, you were hit with a wave of confusion, as the date read May 14th, which was tonight. That would've been impossible, given that she hadn't been sniping for you yet. Things weren't adding up. But then again, there was something suspicious about the way you discovered her hideout. The henchman you had interrogated was a bit too easy to break when telling you about her hideout. Plus, either she was spring cleaning, or did the security measures seem just a little lacking? Anyone could've just waltzed in to her secret lair, anyone could've seen all of this. But maybe she wanted you to see this, maybe she wanted her hand-picked goon to give away her location.
Maybe, just maybe, you just walked into her ultimate trap. That tingling in your spine began to creep up your neck, as everything started to fit. Why would she trust her own men by revealing her hideout, her own base of operations? Why would she trust you to find it in the slim chance that you could capture her? That tingling in the back of your neck was now radiating, as sweat dripped down your face. You were beginning to piece the puzzle, and the big reveal wasn't very You were so impetuous to find Reich, that you forgot her one rule. Never trust anyone.
Then it hit you. Literally.
The muzzle of a gun tapped you in the back of your neck. It was a MP-40 sub-machine gun, her signature weapon.
"Took you that long to figure it out, eh American scum?" came a sneering voice from behind you.
As the gun prodded you again, you raised your hands
"Madam Reich," you spoke simply, your mouth dry.
"Ah, you remember me," she laughed, her voice taunting you.
"What gave me away?" you asked, your hands still high in the air.
"The alarm I devised in the doorway Hawk Boy. Did you honestly think I would leave myself so unprotected that even an idiot like you could discover me, bird brain?" she told you.
You cursed yourself for being so stupid, triggering the silent arm, and stripping yourself of the element of surprise.
"Now turn around boy. I want to look into your eyes as I kill you," she ordered, her voice so commanding and stern that you almost flinched.
Grudgingly, you turned around and came face to face with the hate terrorist herself.
She was clad from head to toe in black leather, even her hair a raven black. From her neck all the way down to her knees, she was dressed in a black leather SS uniform, with a few of the buttons on top bottomed, revealing her cleavage. The uniform looked tight enough to be part of her own skin. She worse black jack boots all the way up her knees, the leather just as polished as her outfit. And painted on her face was a triumphant sneer, her eyes almost twinkling with amusement that she had finally caught you.
You couldn't help but steal one quick glance at her boots, your eyes almost desperately drifting down before coming back to face her. She held the gun up to your nose, her finger a centimeter away from the trigger.
"Back to basics, huh Madam? I thought you were above this," you say.
"Above this city, yes, but unfortunately not above my mission. You see, tonight marks the beginning of my crusade to cleanse this city of a cancer that's been plaguing it for far too long. The law. Corrupt bureaucrats, bribe-taking police officers, masked nuisances like yourself, I have seen it all. For far too long, you and your people you claim to protect have slowly eaten away at this rotten, festering city. My my, even I am starting to become covered in this filth. But no longer," she explained, an almost insane look in her eyes.
She gestured proudly towards the weapons table.
"These are the tools that shall help pave the way for a new world, a world where the master race shall reclaim it's place at the top, a world without any of your American corrupt morals, and ironically enough Hawk Boy, a world without you," she exclaimed proudly.
"Goodbye Hawk Boy, I'm afraid you've meddled in my plans one too many times," she smiled, her finger closing around the trigger.

You have the following choices:

*Noteb*
1. Knock The Gun Out Of Her Hands!

*Noteb*
2. Tackle Her!

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