Citizen's Demise: Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Edan's Stand



         Weeks had passed since the ‘Anarchist’ attack on two unsuspecting individuals. Apparently, the anarchists wanted their vengeance on special government agents and Typhon was there next target, after they‘re SWAT massacre in the subway station, of course. The child was a witness so...the merciless, lawless faction did what it had to. This is war, or at least that’s what was published on almost ever paper, not only in America, but all over the free world. A crime of this magnitude in the years of a developing crime free future was unheard of. Talk shows, Newscasts, Newspapers, magazines, commercials, radio programming, even public speakers warned people to be home before curfew because the Anarchists are on a rampage and will kill anything that even remotely is against their cause. The Crime Free Nation had been tainted.

         "Our nation's streets have been the safest as ever during my reign in presidency. I, myself, cant find words for this most devastating tragedy. First, a massacre of a SWAT team, and now this. As an effect, I promise you this, citizens of the greatest nation on the face of the earth, this will not be our downfall. This is a day of judgment. Starting today, I have made special arrangements with American embassies all over the world to crack down on any crime bridges leading to America and eliminate it . What happened a matter of days ago, I guarantee will never happen in this country again. A team of police officers mangled beyond recognition was an act of shear evil and is execrable among any circumstances.

The man that was killed at his home was a special government agent, and upon death, he was Typhon Steel, and Kyle Spencer, didn’t even make it past his 7th birthday. I will not stand for this violence anymore. From now on, any lawlessness what-so-ever will end in immediate Reeducation for the Criminally ill." stated President Palmer in his nations address, which was repeated every morning for two weeks after Typhon's Death and the Massacre of his team. Everyday, everyone in America woke up, and for the first three hours of the day, heard their idol speak out for them. They heard his commanding voice reign through the streets. He was a hero for speaking out…saying what everyone wanted to hear.

         "Starting today, there will be no more Graffiti, Arson, Anarchism, Murder, Violence of any kind, Disobedience to the law, anything that has-" Edan turned off his Television as he finished pulling on his gray shirt.

         He put the remote down on the arm of his stereo rocker, and picked up his keys from a table. Edan took one last look at a picture of him, Typhon, Cres, and Fireous, all covered head to toe in mud, laughing and acting dumb. He turned it face down on the small stand. He then walked to his T.V. and grabbed his cell phone. Edan was released from the New Prynne Hospital one week after his battle with Osprey. He had received a medal for his actions and sense of duty on enemy turf and strangely enough, the city knew. Since Palmer's term in office, he changed things in certain areas of defense so it would be easier to use. The C.I.A. was split up into 3 ‘more’ distinct divisions: there would always be the CIA and its countless agents spread out throughout the world, filled with analysts, clandestine agents, and contacts, then there is this new experimental elite division. This is the division Edan and his friends are in: Mongoose. Division Mongoose was hidden away from the world for a very long time for its questionable methods and strict training. The agents enlisted in it are forced to take ERDs on a daily basis so they can perform to their best any time of the day.          Operatives in Mongoose live among other Americans and must hide this life away after being trained from childhood. Life expectancy for an agent in the division is low simply because there are less agents and missions given are usually just short of ridiculous. Their would be at most 52 members in this division at a time. Simply being promoted to Mongoose is impossible. The agents must be trained from childhood to understand deep coded messages, maximize agility and strength, and become something that is more than just human. Though the name, Mongoose division, is public, its members are held silent.

         The final division is nameless. There are only six members of this division and no information is available to anyone except the president himself and his appointed associates. This division is forced to have a steady flow of ERD base injected into them 24/7 unless called on duty. Rumors that have been released state that they are given so much ERD, that their bodies had reacted in strange ways based on their past experiences. Each one mutated, and distorted to their own extent. They are said to be barely human anymore, but none is known of anyone of its members. They have been given the unofficial name: The Platoon, because there is also another rumor that floats around. All of its members were in a platoon composed of marines of several different nationalities and often referred to each other as brothers-in-arms. They are said to be hero’s among hero’s. Palmer changed several different National Security installments to his liking for easy access and command.

         Edan struggled for days over Typhon’s death. The option of talking to Cres or Fireous, or anyone in his division for that matter, was impossible. The day after his fight with Osprey and the death of Typhon and his squad, Palmer was forced to stop the flow of terrorists to America (because surely an Anarchist couldn’t be American…). So he sent agents and soldiers every which way to unknown contacts and known Anarchist factions across borders. Unfortunately, Edan was forced into a hospital stay by very annoying ambulance drivers/nurses: two men that could be considered the most vexatious, disturbed, and ignorant people Edan ever had the displeasure of meeting.

         Cres called Edan the night Typhon died and told him the spontaneous speech of a changing world and how Typhon felt he had done something terrible. “even the tamest of hearts may rebel, but a heart is always in search for a worthy cause” was the part that stuck in his mind the most. He turned away from his T.V. and walked through the hallway which ran through the center of his house, straight to his front door. He grabbed his black leather jacket, white stripes going down the arms and sides, and slipped on a pair of sunglasses, despite the cloud coverage. He grabbed his boots and pulled them on as well, tying them tightly as he put one foot on a stool. Beside it hung his LTD F150 Axe addition guitar, always hanging on the wall, low to the ground, as a memento of his first few years out of training and into a real world. Those were the days when he gave more time to his hobbies than to work; the times when he believed he could become something more than just a killer.

         Edan looked at the counter his guitar leaned against and noticed his combat knife was left bare. When he was released from the hospital, his equipment was sent home with him, so it seemed convenient at the time to start relieving some of his equipment before he reached his room. The knife fell to the floor, so he set it on the counter and continued to put up his stuff. "Hm… why not?" he muttered under his breath. He grabbed the knife and slid it blade first into the backside of his boot, into a special sheath designed to elude detection and not interfere with the movements of running or crouching. He finished tying his shoes, then he pulled out one of his .45s from his waste holster to see if it was loaded and returned it just as fast. Edan then opened the door, locked it, and walked out into the world.

         He closed his door, and as he walked a few more steps, threw up his shoulders to make his jacket more comfortable. He looked up to see the skyscrapers still impaling the clouds which seemed to cover a rainless America. In fact, the night of Typhon’s death seemed to be the only night these particular clouds released precipitation.

         He turned off of his walkway which led to the sidewalk and walked across the grass to his garage which contained his motorcycle. It was a flat black color with several vents showing his bike’s ‘girly parts’ and making it very sleek. It also had a curved red stripe on each side that had a kind of shading effect on the bottom. Edan was proud of his Crimson 3600, which his friends often called ‘Moose‘, except Cres. She called it a ‘handicapped moose’ on account of the cold fusion base taking a long time to start flowing through the bike and made sounds similar to a moose call.

         He bent down letting his short black bangs just reach the middle of the eyes of his orange paneled sunglasses, scanning the bike more closely. He finally looked up at the sky and decided today was a nice day for a walk around the corner. The street he lived on, Willamette, was decently vacant. There were several houses for sale, most of them recently put on the market due to the current crime. Mongoose members were well hidden in society, but when you meet a man who seems to go out of the country for months and returns to stay at home for even longer, suspicions rise. This frightened neighbors.

         Edan loved the peace. His neighborhood was now a dream. He started to walk down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets, thinking of something fun to do with his off time. He could go over to Ramone's (another agent) house and watch TV, but he was sent on the same mission Cres and Fireous were on. He had several friends in the agency and most of them never really liked Edan until they were put on an assignment with him. Edan had a passion for his job, and others admired this.

         He finally reached Main Street, and the bulk of the city began to form. He turned left on Main pass the Chinese Wok, and continued on pass a jewelry store. As simple as the situation may sound, Edan was slightly overwhelmed yet in a place of unrest. He hadn’t had time off in ages, regards to James.

         Edan had walked down this street to clear his head in the past just to see friendly faces at times when life seemed to be collapsing in on him. He recognized the cracks in the concrete, the officers posted in their tower among every street, the cameras on every street corner, and even the stores names before he could actually see them.

         He knew alot about his city and his job, but soon his mind went back to James. The questions are what put him in his state of unrest. “What does happen to the people he arrests? Everyone is tattooed with a bar code on the back of their left shoulder so they could be tracked for future offenses, but usually Edan never sees them again, not because they‘ve been executed, but simply because he wasn‘t in the field of rehabilitation. He knows everyone arrested has to go to a ‘Reeducation for the Criminally Ill’ session, but after that is news to him. In fact, the building above the service elevator at the train station happened to be a Reeducation Station. He remembered briefly the image of the letters Criminally Ill on the front door to it, but it was to massive to be a session area.

         He passed another street corner going straight instead of turning. Many people walked the streets at this hour of the morning, winding down to lunch, and it was never more apparent to Edan than now. He finally stopped at his favorite pizza place, CycloneBuzz Pizzeria, and ordered a giant slice of pepperoni and mushroom. Instead of walking back out into the streets like he would have done any other day, he sat down and ate his pizza at a table. He finished in a matter of minutes and simply sat. He arched his head to look out the window for a minute, studying the faces of passer bys, all with an agenda for the day quite like his. Then he slid out of his chair and walked toward the door to exit. Edan rolled his eyes under the cover of his black rimmed, orange lens sunglasses, thinking of this average day taken for granted among them. Edan began to walk out the swinging glass door.

         As he pushed it open and walked out, a woman walked past him. She smelt of cherry blossom and it immediately caught his attention. Her hair was dark blonde and shook in the wind. She dressed no different than any other girl in the city: a skirt that seemed to have been cut short and a skin tight Hollister shirt. It seemed for a moment her pink cheeks and cute smile were just a cover for something far deeper, but it also seemed to be just a feeling of a curiosity. She walked through the door as he walked out. Eden felt the need to hold the door as she entered.

         As she walked by, she stopped in front of him, facing away, but easily heard. "You seem so familiar." Her voice was a melody. She turned to him completely, arms at her sides, hands stretched down her ruffled blue jean skirt. “You’re more handsome than I had imagined”, she said as a slight smile formed at the edge of her lips. Edan looked directly into her eyes, not changing his emotionless expression. “Who are you?“ Edan said quietly yet stern. “Someone who wants to know you better”, She stared right back at him, eyes lost in his black shades. “What’s your name?” Edan said a bit more stern, not changing his expression although not often greeted by attractive women. “I’m Tadley…and today, despite the cool breeze and all around good vibe, isn’t a good day for acquaintances. I need to show you something.” She whispered to him, putting her hands on his shoulders and pushing him away from the door into the wall.          

                She moved her face close to his in an instant. Her breath nipped his neck and made his skin jump. Tadley’s thumbs pushed in the pit of his shoulder and gripped. She whispered something in his ear that he couldn’t quite understand and kissed his cheek. He put his hands around her waist and pushed her back quickly, not understanding his current situation.

         He stood puzzled for several seconds, looking into her eyes as she slowly walked around him, leaving him leaning against a wall. Before he could comprehend what she had said or done, she was gone. Edan hadn‘t even seen her move, and she was out of sight. Out of the corner of his eye, she turned around a corner, not running but moving swiftly. He turned and ran in a hopeless attempt to catch up. She never turned around to gain a visual of him, but in some odd sense, it seemed like she was watching him track her. He continued following. She turned by a familiar bike shop, one he often went to mod out his bike in even though most pointless of ways, and turned into an alley. He started to sprint, closing the gap in between them. He passed pedestrians breaking for lunch that day and excused him self. When he finally reached the alley way, it was empty.

         He knew she had walked through here. He was an expert at shadowing. He was an expert in urban combat and shadowing, and he just lost a target who clearly knew something he didn’t. He stood still for several seconds as the pedestrians past him and made there way to their random destinations. He turned facing North, down the sidewalk to streets beyond, raising hand to rub the back of his neck. He stood dumbfounded. There was a door in the alley, but she didn’t seem the type to be in this sort of place. “Its Oz-bray”, was what she had whispered in his ear. It was clear the touch and kiss were a means of distraction, that Edan…regrettably fell victim too.

         Suddenly, the door opened. It was a heavy iron door and creaked as it opened outwards. A large man stumbled out wearing business attire and even a brief case which looked poorly closed. His suit was wrinkled and scuffed, few stains resided, but were clearly noticed. The man turned to close the door and when he turned back around, it was Edan who choked. He let out a sigh of terror and pulled out his .45 handgun. He pressed the trigger of his laser point and shined it the face of what seemed to be, none other than Carver Osprey. His face looked severely scarred and he seemed to have something solid implanted in the top left side of his head. His mouth dripped with drool on the account of having a cut directly through his bottom lip and his face had...a terrified expression. Osprey was scared of Edan.

         The man trembled uncontrollably dropping his suit case spilling papers and folders to the ground. He threw his hands in front of his face and tears began to develop in his eyes. He trembled with anxiety and fear. Edan stood pointing his gun at Osprey's head for several seconds, dumbfounded for a second time on this revolution of a day. "Pl...Please! Don't Kill...me!" screamed Osprey in a sobbing voice as he began to fall to his knees on the wet concrete. Edan lowered his gun and slid it under his jacket back into it’s holster, still looking at Osprey with a pair of sunglasses in one hand and the other still under his jacket. Edan was surprised and the sudden arch in his neck was the only evidence. Edan thought  for several seconds as the man slowly reached for papers scooping them into his poorly fashioned suit case, still sobbing a bit. He stayed on his knees, making his pants soggy as he reached for papers.

         "Please! I..I don't want...to die!" the most feared and intimidating man Edan had ever seen cried in agony. Edan slipped his glasses back on and walked toward Osprey as he scooped papers into the case. Osprey jumped back, slipping to the ground, and crawled backwards to the wall as if Edan was coming to finish him off. Edan stopped at the suit case and looked at the papers. He dropped to one knee and started to flip handfuls of the paper over. Over and over, he looked at each page, quickly disregarding each. Edan's face turned grim, as if he were developing an idea as to what had occurred. He knew something horrible had happened to Osprey: something that no one deserved it, good or bad. Edan dropped down to both knees making his jeans wet in the musky water in the alley. His face turned to rott and his stomach started to twist. Osprey crawled further and further back, failing as he tried to stand back up to run.

         "Osprey, what happened?" Edan said slowly, clearly, and in a faint voice as he recovered back to his feet. "W..Who? ..P...Please Dont k..Kill me...?!?!" sobbed Osprey as he crawled backwards into a trash can dirtying his suit even more. Edan, shaking just a bit, walked backwards toward the street. "I’m sorry, Osprey." Edan said quietly, more to himself than to the actual Osprey, but just enough to be heard. “I’m…I’m sorry..” He then turned completely around and walked back to the side walk. It was now one o' clock, and it would take at least half an hour to get back to his house, but he walked slowly anyways often staggering, just thinking about what he saw on the papers. They were each the same despite being drenched in water. They were all blank.

         Each and every page was blank. This means they have no importance what-so-ever. Osprey had been...Edan refused to think it. No means would resort to this sort of ‘criminal reeducation‘. He stumbled every other step wondering of this. He lost his direction several times, venturing only in thought. People around him knew he was acting abnormal. As he walked by civilians seemed to cross the street, or speed up as to be in front of him, or even slow their pace and turn into a random store.

         They saw that he was depressed or lost in thought, most likely both. After walking in pointless directions for several hours, he knew what had happened for sure and what was most likely soon to happen. James was right. This is the change. It hit him all at once. His dreams, his life molded in the way of a true citizen of the supposedly greatest country on earth, everything of truth was just turned to lie. But what of Typhon and his Anarchist assassins? Was this just another part of James' hilarity? Was he having fun killing his friends? Edan finally struck a tear down his face. "He was...brainwashed. Osprey, the giant...was brainwashed." Edan said allowed to quiet the questions and prove his truth.

         He was still walking in a random direction when, three corners over, he was at an angle staring at CyloneBuzz's. He pulled himself together a bit and ran across both the streets as fast as he could. He jumped on and off the curbs as he ran faster and faster. When he finally reached the pizzeria, he turned just a bit and dragged his arm on the wall for a second. Soon, it was all falling on him at once in the middle of his sprint. He was useless. Just a pawn in Palmer's sick web of lies. Criminals were brainwashed, disfigured, and turned into near zombie-like beings, and Osprey was proof enough for that. He was sure it was Osprey now. He ran faster and slowed in a mere instant. Edan slowed even more. He knew what had to be done, but he doubted if he could do it. He moved his shades up and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. Soon, Edan felt a mist of water starting to fall and he noticed most people were going home or indoors by now.

         It was near five o' clock and Edan had spent hours mindlessly thinking. He was officially going to find James. He tore off his glasses and slid them into his jacket pocket and sprinted the rest of the way to the corner.

         He made it to the corner of Willamette, his street, in a matter of eight minutes, which is exactly 2 miles from the pizzeria. At the corner he turned and ran even faster to his house. Edan knew he was next, Typhon’s killer had to have known of Edan, and he had no clue how he was going to join the right side. He reached his front step and unlocked his door speedily just as it started to pour down raining outside. Edan quickly threw off his boots to his left, which was his living room and went farther up and to his right to the kitchen.

         Not even leaving time for a breath, Edan quickly grabbed a box of toaster strudels out of the fridge and slipped one out, returning the box to it’s proper place. He ripped the package open and dropped one in each slot of his toaster, sitting on the counter closest to his fridge. He then slowed down a bit. He sat in a chair by his dining room table and relaxed. He scanned his imminent area for any differences. Edan pushed back another chair and rested his feet in it while he leaned back in his. He looked up at the light which was positioned a little to the left of him and listened to the rain tear at his roof. "Crawling in my skin, these wounds, they will not heal!" rang his cell phone, a classic tune he rather enjoyed. He picked up. "Grey", he answered in his quiet, stern voice. "Edan, I know you know who this is, so you cant afford to hang up. You have to meet me soon. I made a mistake with Typhon, and I don’t intend to do the same with you. Meet me at the corner of Main and Dimmesdale after curfew. You can manage that can't you?”, a raspy voice stated expecting a response. “How do I know you’re not the one trying to have me killed?”, Edan responded, knowing full well the answer. “I can simply say I would rather have my self killed, and you can choose to believe me or not. Trust your instincts, Edan. The killer of Typhon is probably going to..(static)..after you..(static)...he goes by the name of The Sta..(static)..." the call ended.

         He tried to call back, but the call wouldn‘t go through. He stared at the screen of it, trying to comprehend the fact that the bars simply disappeared . He dialed anything, but he had no service. He recalled what Typhon had transferred to him through Cres. The message obviously was a clever way to say ‘trust in Tameheart‘ , and right now Edan believed he could. Edan looked up at the light again and then to his right at the refrigerator.

         His shadow was missing. "Pop! Slam!" Eden fell backwards in his chair hitting his head on the green tile floor. His legs hit the table and pushed it forward a bit. He spilled out to the floor and clenched his teeth. He shook his head twice and regained his focus. Edan looked up at the counter to see the strudels were toasted.

         He seemed to put the fact that he had lost his shadow, at that moment, out of his head. He pushed his table back and ate the strudels, as he usually did, and looked at the ground again. His shadow was back. He grabbed one of the toasted delights and walked into his living room to sit on his stereo rocker, a low to the ground rocking chair with a stereo system hooked up to his TV.. He turned on his TV and waited for it to spring to life. "-and countless other defensive chapters of our nations security to cut off the flow of any more of these terrorist/Anarchist low breeds.-" the TV played a repeat of the speech again. He turned off the TV and looked at his night stand. The picture was laying on it’s back, showing the framed photo. He chewed his food and stared at the picture clueless of any hostility. Edan’s eyes moved to the ceiling in an attempt to clear his mind.

         “It can’t be too bad.” Edan said aloud, expecting his attacker soon. As he was about to turn and walk back towards the kitchen, he noticed movement. He looked at the mirror like platinum siding of the photo to see a multitude of blades swinging behind him. Edan spun around, slamming against the wall, just in time to see the head of his eight hundred dollar chair evenly cut in half by a man that didn’t even have a physical shape. The man simply ran forward and disappeared into the darkness of the room. Edan had lost the strudel in his hand and swallowed the food in his mouth.

         His eyes were as wide as dinner plates, and his heart beat had sped out of control. He had only seconds to think. The thought of his friend’s house came to mind. Claw marks were said to have been found on the walls and through his couch. He threw his arms back, sliding his jacket to the floor, knowing full well that it would put a strain on his movement. Edan pulled out his guns to see the blades again to his right. Edan dove to his left letting the edge of the blade knick his elbow spraying a significant amount of blood. Edan saw the man's face and instantly knew this was no ordinary opposing force.

         Edan didn’t waste time in aiming. He squeezed down on both of his guns letting a tornado of shellage fly in the ghost‘s direction. He twisted a bit to mop up any missed areas, but his major goal right now was try and escape. Edan had to get to Dimmesdale street before this maniac could kill him. It was silent. Edan finished off his rounds, quickly released both clips at the same time, reached into his side jacket pockets, and pulled out fresh clips. He stood on one knee for the longest time looking up every few seconds to make his life just a bit longer. He slid the clips in one at a time, and then, while holding both guns, moved each to the back of his wrist, and held the gun with the edge of his thumb. He cocked both guns at the same time. He could see the figure again. This time it had barely formed, but he could definitely tell it was running at him. He pointed and blared both guns wasting at least 6 rounds on his kitchen wall, tearing through cabinets and canned foods. Canned corn and tomato sauce splashed out spilling from the fridge to the toaster still on the table. It didn’t do a thing. The figure had completely formed and was running at him from outside the living room.

         Edan quickly somersaulted out of the way, the static blurred man never fully appeared. Then to Edan's right, the figure emerged blades and all. Surprised and outsmarted, Edan had no choice, but to melee attack or die. He tossed up his right leg to the face of his opponent and it effected the man well. It caught him by surprise and toppled him. Strangely, it seemed as if he had only caught his cheek with the blow, but it had been enough for the time being.  His blades were aimed at Edan's face, but his quick switch of positions to a allow a kick, only allowed him a fluke hit. Edan wasn’t fast enough. His right arm was cut. The blood instantly gushed, almost spraying, and Edan had no choice, but to follow where force had pushed him and fall backwards.

         He went directly through his Plasma TV, and its weight against his sheet rock walls didn’t hold well at all. Him and his TV broke through the thin wall straight into his bedroom, where he rolled back in surprise. Knowing his guns were obsolete in this fight, he slid them back into their proper holsters. Edan stayed behind his hole in the wall for several seconds, recovering and listening to the peaceful sound of rain and how ironically chaotic it was in his house. He held his arm in hopes of the adrenaline to overcome the pain. He hoped the bleeding would slow soon. It was quiet for several minutes as he scanned his room, still in awe as to what was really happening. It didn’t matter. All that mattered now was if he could make it out or not. He put his hands on his green shag carpeted floor and grasped as much as he could as he moved his legs to a standing position. Edan was cut and bleeding, but this was nothing yet. He had seen the reports and Typhon‘s body. A limb had been taken along with a terrible gash evenly cut between his ribs. He looked at the hole in the wall and realized there was an offal lot of blood leading from his living room to where he was standing, but it could be no worse, he promised himself.

         He started to walk cautiously, staying low to the ground as he walked for his door. It was already open, so he stood against the wall next to it peaking over just to get rid of any surprises. He then slowly formed his hands in a tactical fighting style, ready to grab or counter any foreign objects or fists. He strided into his hallway slowly looking everything over as if the figure were going to lunge out of the wall. Then, as if he predicted it, it seemed to have done just that.

         Right in Edan's face came the blades, striking side to side, left to right. Edan backed away and hit the side, flat surface of the first blade, as it came close, but as an effect, one of the other two blades curved down and took a chunk out of his palm. The blood fell again, flinging the walls with splatter, but the expression on Edan's face stayed firm, adrenalin and focus overcame his emotions. He knew if he stayed focused and resourceful, he could make it out of this alive. The maniac's face always had that sadistic smile that wrinkled his nose, raising his thick, BC glasses. But he never really changed his expression. Edan stared into the maniac's eyes as, blow after blow, Edan kept backing away, knowing of the consequences of blocking a blade that sharp.

         The maniac, kept swinging his scrawny arms, seemingly covered in blades, in Edan’s general direction, catching nothing. Edan simply swayed and stepped backwards, gaining several feet from every swing. If one had appeared to be on a fatal path, Edan would drop down and push back, using the wall as something to push back with. Finally, Edan dropped to the floor spinning his leg downward at the shadow's leg, but simply cut through a cloud of static energy. His leg flew helplessly through his sheetrock wall again, into the cabinets of his kitchen, feeling another canned food push up against his ankle. Pulling his leg out quickly, Edan stood and saw the static man flinging himself at him quickly again.

         Edan jumped and placed one foot on the wall. He pushed off doing a back flip back to the inside of his carpeted room landing on his hands and finishing his flip, rolling off to the corner. He looked quickly at his right hand noticing the area of skin closest to his pinky was missing. His hand was clean and there really was no gash, there was just simply nothing left under his pinky, except a red mass of flesh. The cut on his arm didn’t effect him much despite how deep it was at this point, and his elbow gash felt like a strong carpet burn, annoying, but strong.

         He scanned over his room one more time and suddenly gained an idea. Edan stripped both his holsters of his guns and formed them as his own fighting method. He held the guns backwards and upside down in his hands to where the barrels were pointing down the outside of his wrists. He swung a few practice hits to see its effectiveness. He pulled arms back to his chest and closed his eyes, making a sort of silent prayer for just the slightest bit courage he needed, he would need his faith more than ever now that he was soon to ascend to heaven or burn in hell. He took in a deep breath and formed his arms in his fighting position again, and made his stance ready for it to appear again.

         Nothing happened. Everything turned quiet and peaceful again. The rain started falling harder and harder and it sounded as if the rainfall could be measured in feet now. He scanned his room over and over seeing nothing, but his several pictures of him and his friends and several other very random things, such as his new doorway leading directly to the living room, his destroyed expensive TV.. As the expression on his face started twitching, he grew a sort of smile. His roof began to leak in streams. It had done this only once before, years ago, and now today, it fell again. It streamed down his wall, and if it was effective as the last hard rain, it would be flowing in his kitchen as well.

         Just as soon as his smile grew, it fell straight back to his stern look of determination and focus. The lights began to flicker, a grim sign when fighting a ghost. "Typhon lasted seconds, Edan. That’s something to be proud of. But when the lights go off, your jitsu-shit will mean nothing.“ stated a voice from his hallway. Edan stepped back, bracing himself for anything. His eyebrows lifted realizing that he really did effect this static persona, and he played with the idea of attempting in killing it. The rain fell harder and the lights started to flicker more. From the left! Blades held high in front of a screaming static blur.

         Edan punched through the static face with his new fighting style, throwing himself backwards to avoid the right hand’s blades , but once again went through falling foreward. Luckily, the static blur didn’t react fast enough and through his blades down backwards. Edan took the blunt side of all three blades to his face, eye instantly swelling, spinning him into his desk, spilling several pictures down upon him. Edan took the hit hard and was now laying on his stomach still holding his guns. “I can’t do this”, Edan said to himself as he moved his hands foreward to push himself up. He dropped his left gun on the ground to feel his face and noticed quite a bit of blood. Definitely a major bruise, but no scarring. He could feel the headache now, as he fell back to the floor. He had to figure out this guy’s movements before he gets the best of him.

         Edan shook his head repetitively as his vision started to blur again. He watched helplessly as the blood started to rush past his eyes dripping to the floor below. He had no time. He needed to find out how to fight back. He shook his head one more time to gain just a bit more clearness of vision only to see a static slurred military issued set of boots in front of his face. He looked up, staggering a little, only to see the sadistic smile again. "Don’t worry. I’m not going to kill you…quickly!" screamed the static figure as his right boot lifted and nailed Edan in the throat. Thoroughly surprised, Edan flew back breaking through another wall in his room, arms flying limp, slinging his right gun out his door into the hallway. He didn’t fall completely through his wall He grabbed his throat coughing and gagging. He threw up a bit of blood before he caught his breath again and fell from his wall crevice, to his knees, arms falling to his sides helplessly. Everything grew silent and his face became emotionless. Even the sound of the rain became faint. The thunder had seized to a dull roar and the sudden spurts of light out of his windows from bolts of lightning slowed.

         His eyes became weary and his mind was blank. Everything was as close to still as it had ever been in his mind. He was as focused as ever, but he couldn't move. His arms just hung by his sides as the blood still dripped over his ripped and tore shirt. His plain grey shirt was full of sweat and caked in blood. His jeans had rips, pre maid moderate scratch marks, but blood mucked, if anything else. He scanned at a slower pace, noticing things like water was beginning to puddle all over his room and hall. Drips of water were starting to fall from his light sockets, and there were blood stains all over his white walls. He then turned his attention to his soggy carpet.

         Just then the static man appeared again. He was walking casually as if he knew Edan was helpless now. The static figure let his arms flail as he walked without care, and let his blade fall back and forth. His smile seemed so full of vigor and pleasure now and...his imprints in the carpet. The were behind him. The static image was walking directly in front of Edan, but the imprints of his shoe were almost 2 feet behind him and a step to the left than the actual target. He wasn't some kind of ghost, or a professional assassin. He had some kind of technological advantage that placed his body behind a hologram of himself, but Edan didn’t need to know this. If he was going to continue fighting, he was going to kill this man.

         He knew why he had missed with the gun, and some of his other hits, but his life was slipping away. Edan looked down just as the shadowed figure dropped his blades again. Edan grabbed the gun he held with his left hand, but it was held by the barrel. The shadow was too close regain to firing position. He swayed to his knees quickly and, using the butt of his gun, slammed it behind the hollow man, flinging his head back, shouting in pain. Missing Edan's heart, the three blades on his right hand penetrated Edan's side, through his ribs. Flailing his arms in pain, the shadow unconsciously flung Edan over his shoulder as a weightless child, back into the hallway on the tile floor, sliding through water and blood.

         Edan looked up ignoring the pain, and scanned his surroundings for weapons. His gun was no where to be found. It was at the other end of the hall where his foot entered the kitchen. The static figure had recovered from his pain, and slowly turned around, keeping his feet in place. "This ends now" the shadowed figure said calmly and smiling again. He turned completely around, and started pacing slowly to Edan again. Things turned much worse, now.

         The lights flickered one more time, staying on for maybe five seconds more, and then turned off completely. "You don‘t gamble do you, Edan? Seems you don‘t have much luck. HaHa!" echoed the screeching voice again through the hallway. Blind and severely wounded, Edan grabbed behind him for something solid. He flailed his arms through his own blood and rushing water for something. A rug was drifting by his arm, but he pushed it aside and finally felt something solid. He reached around it and realized there were several wire like features on it. He grasped up high, by the neck tightly and, diverting all the weight to the other end, flung it through the hallway, hearing the scream of the shadow again and the sound of a smashing guitar. "Damn it." Edan said out loud, feeling the depression of his lung against his tattered ribs, as he heard the shadow stumbling and his much treasured guitar shattered.

         Edan pulled himself to his feet feeling the walls as a guide to his gun. He saw his right sidearm land next to the hole he had kicked in the wall earlier. This is where he would journey. The hole was close to his room and just barely past the kitchen. He had to find the shadowed man first to avoid any close encounters. He walked forward slowly, his back against the wall leaving a bloody trail behind him. He stayed low to the ground, swishing flood water below his feet and trying not to make a sound. Edan kept his left hand held on his bloody side, but he couldn’t stop to examine it because of very simple reasons. The two main being its freaking dark and the assassin is somewhere in this house.

         Edan felt the entrance to the kitchen and nearly stumbled into it, but remembered he was looking for the hole in the wall. He took several more steps before he felt it. Something solid and L shaped under his foot. That was it. He reached down not thinking of the noise and he felt it: A sharp pain to his side leading around to his back. He felt his ribs again noticing three long steel objects going through him and pinning him to the wall. "Edan, I can see in the dark…Hahahaha!" the sadistic laugh ringing in his ear. Edan screamed in pain for a second until he felt the blades pull out leaving him bare laying against the wall. He slid to the floor, smashing into water and bleeding his life away. Edan's adrenalin suddenly went to a halt and he threw up again. Covering his legs in blood, he slid from the wall into the what now could be called at least six inch deep water. The lights flickered again...twice, just to return to dark. Edan, knowing his death was imminent, reached for something solid to pull himself up, to die at least on his feet. He struggled for several seconds throwing his right arm on the wall until he caught hold of the hole he had made earlier. He grasped tight and tugged himself up, failing several tries, and just as he was about to give up, he felt something.

         It was a handle of some sort, smooth, soft grip leading to a guard then razor sharp blade. It was stuck in the cabinet on the other side of the wall. The lights flickered again as lightning struck, and this time, after flickering once more, stayed on as either a dim light of hope, or a spot light on his demise. Edan looked up to see, his static villain, seeming bored with Edan's life. "You will suffer! You will beg! And  you will die for the time you have cost me!", screamed the shadowistic man as his face turned to a very angry expression, not once altering the static colour, but lifting his glasses again. Both of the assassin's arms went up at the time as he jumped almost to gain all the momentum he needed. Edan tugged once more on the object breaking it free at the last second. As the blades fell, Edan revealed his combat knife speeding, edge first, through the static shadow and directly into the calf of the true man, quickly exiting the other side, cutting through bone and tendon alike. "Son of a BITCH!" screamed the shadow as his blades pierced the wall around Edan. Feeling the pain rushing to him, the staticism fell to floor, not gushing, but actually spraying blood into every crevice of the innocent hallway. The blood wasn’t exactly red though.

         It looked more purplelish crimson than the original dark red and it covered everything. "I'll Fucking Kill you!!! Fuck you!! Fuck you!!!" the shadow screamed as he rolled over, pulling his blades out of the wall, taking sheetrock and pieces of stud with it, splashing water and blood in all directions, screaming. He rolled vigorously holding the bloody nub that was entitled to be his left foot. His eyes began rolling back in his head and he kept repeating his death insult on Edan. He screamed it, but the static aura about him seemed be draining. His face began turning a more pale instead of the TV static color, and his arms were not far behind. In deep pain, Edan crawled over to the dying man and pushed him down by his shoulder, not strong enough to pull himself out of the water. "I'L fucking kill you! Do you know who...Who I am!?!?! I’m the fucking Stal- (gush)" Edan entered his knife into the stalker's throat drowning his last words in his own blood. "I don‘t care who you are." Edan said quietly. “You died when Typhon did, I just ended your misery.” Then, as if the world were to drop its sins upon him, he screamed. He yelled in pain as he rolled over back into the blood soaked water in a hopeless attempt to stand. He looked around for several seconds, before he looked into his room. Pictures of friends, pieces of TV and desk, blood…the room was a mess. Then he noticed something that could definitely help him. There on his floor, next to his floating pictures and papers, sailed an E.R.D. syringe, cap still closed tight, ready to be injected.



Edan’s Mad Dash



         Edan took several hours, after taking the Recovery drug, before he could maintain consciousness and move, afterwards he immediately took a shower and used his C.I.A. Delta vest and uniform as his new apparel, grabbing his jacket and putting it in a duffle bag. He was beyond wounded and needed medical attention, but he knew it was only a matter of time before something else would come. Edan looked around his house as he walked out of the flooded bathroom, noticing that nothing could save it. But it was okay. From this point on, Edan now knew he would never return here. Better yet, he didn’t want to return. He had been deceived to a point of no apologies, and this could only mean the end of Palmer's life.

         He swashed through the water back to his room and slowly tore his knife back out of the Stalker's throat. His body was now as a human should look. Out of his throat and leg he bled red blood once again, but the blood that filled the water and covering the walls and ceiling was no regular blood. Looking at the syringe on the floor, floating by the Stalker now, it seemed that the substance mixed with his blood was ERD. "Strange?" Edan said in a whisper looking down at the body. He had wrapped his wounds and found his guns which surprisingly, had not been effected by the water at all. He dropped the clips in the water knowing they would be compromised and would probably misfire. Edan walked with a limp to his front door, holding his ribs tightly. He stepped over the remains of his L.T.D. guitar turning his head in the other direction squinting his eyes. He turned right as he passed the kitchen and entered the living room to find his black bandana, still moist of sweat from his first encounter with Osprey weeks ago.

         He wrapped it around his head vigorously as he had done several times before. He walked back into the hallway and made what he believed would be the final stroll through his house. Edan opened his front door, letting the blood filled water flow down the steps as a Hellish Niagara Falls into the night. He stepped down the two steps, each being the most sturdy and confident steps Edan had ever made. A lightning bolt struck a far off tall object, making a loud crack which lit the sky for only moments. The wind and rain blew the tails of Edan's headband drenching him, but also making him feel all the more alive.

         He started down his walkway to his motorcycle, when it hit him. He looked at his bike and then back to the house with a slightly confused stare. "Keys and phone…" he said in a ragged breath as he turned around and walked right back up the bloody falls. He stayed in the house several minutes more before he finally emerged again holding several paper towels drying his cell phone to its brim, and a duffle bag hanging from his back. "It‘s supposed to be waterproof…what the hell?" Edan said in his head as if someone were watching. Despite the rain and flood waters, that was one advantage of Edan's Crimson 3700. It was completely cold fusion based so every part on the bike was meant for extreme conditions without worry of rust or tarnish. Edan slid on the seat and pulled out the key and put it in the ignition. The bike started instantly with its low moose like roar and then steadied to its normal flowing sound. He put his cell phone under his vest, in his shirt pocket.

         Edan then strapped on his elbow pads, flinching a bit in pain, that were located near his bike along with his helmet and gloves and lifted his head up to pull the helmet on as well. His bag was secured on the back of his bike against the seat. He tied the strap of his dull black helmet with dual white stripes on either side with a shadow effect below them. Edan pulled on his gloves and returned his hands to the bars. He backed out of his garage slowly, questioning one last time if this is really what he wanted to do. Thinking again, Edan reached into his vest, pulling out his phone to see the time as 1:30, several hours past curfew on this side of town. “At least my phone is working.” He shoved his phone back into his vest, taking a deep breath, and grasped his handle bars tightly.          

                Then with massive power, Edan pushed off into the blanket of rain drenching him and his bike as he slid to the street of the black city. At this time, it was a law to be inside or a fine was introduced, so his headlights bursted through the darkness spreading a glare down the black, flooded streets, gleaming off of windows. As he splashed at least a pound of water turning his bike around in the rain, the single headlight stopped on the yellow line as the moose call engine calmed to a steady beat. He knew where he had to go: Corner of Dimmesdale and Main. He knew what he had to do: Hope the Anarchists don't kill him instead of help him. He knew it, and there was no stopping him now.

         His head leaned down as a determined face emerged, and his wrist fell. Water made a wake behind his bike as he floored it down Willamette. He strained as the bullet rain blared on his helmet. The flood waters came just to the beginning of the rim on his tire, but according to the wake he left, it would have seemed feet deeper. He sped through the crisp rain filled night, drenching side walks and blackened buildings with showers of rain. The sound of the rain had grown to such a vast amount that his bike barely could be heard. Only seconds passed by when he saw the Chinese Wok on the corner and soon after revealed the corner of Willamette and Main sign. Not braking for a second, Edan sped past turning the bike completely to his right dragging his right arm and leg on the wet pavement. And he was off again, leaving another wake behind him.

         He was a lone light in the city of darkness, as his bike covered the windows and other sidewalk necessities. His wrist pumped on and off switching gears and dragging a wake behind him for several minutes until he heard something: something over his bike, the rain, and even the splashing buildings.          It was loud. It seemed like a scream of some kind. As if someone were in pain. He drove on putting it out of his head, until he heard it again. It was definitely a scream of pain. His eyes grew weary of how long Main was and also he became confused. He had never been to Dimmesdale Street before, but he had always known where it was. It was mainly a warehouse street: Most abandoned, the ones that weren't, were not used often. He knew Ramone lived two blocks up from it, but it never really fazed him as that an important spot. It was more run down than anything. Why would they want to meet him here?

         He drove on passing Carlton, Tammsburg, Yinson, and Thomas street with little or no thought process, but he still couldn’t find Dimmesdale. The rain must have been raining harder than he thought, because the green street corner signs became blurier and blurier through his windsheilded helmet. Soon he had to slow from 108 to the high 80s to get a clearer view of the signs. The wake behind his bike had grown to huge proportions and the mere thought of his bike breaking down or flooding out brought chills down his spine. Then after a long while, he heard the scream again. It was still faint beneath the rainfall and motorcycle roar, but he could definitely hear it.

         Somebody was dying somewhere, but Edan knew he couldn't find them even if he tried. The rain would surely drown a person if they had been severely wounded and refused to move. There is no chance he would find them, judging by the scream’s repetitive, faint cry even miles away from where he had heard it originally. He put his focus back on the road and the shine it threw.

         The road began to get rough and the bumps larger. He slowed his bike significantly in part because of the bumps and also in a brief battle with himself to find the source of screaming. There it was.

         Genet Blv.: one street away from Dimmesdale. He was almost there and a relieved expression engulfed Edan's face. He began to slow from his unnatural speeds, but his headlights had caught something. There was no time to even turn. As Edan sped by, a gigantic golem, it seemed grabbed his front tire, still spinning and grinding in hand, flinging it to the sidewalk opposite his side of the road. Edan didn’t have the ability to stop with his bike and was flung to the street. His bike smashed into the wall, exploding on impact, imploding in on itself in reaction of the cold fusion sudden jar. The wall collapsed busting and shattering many windows at once. Edan, however, bailed out early and rolled through the endless mass of water, hitting the curb of the concrete with his helmet and flipping into the air, landing on the building's debris on his back.

         Recovering as fast as he could, Edan erupted up, pulling out his gun immediately. He scanned his surroundings as well as he could, but everything that could possibly be wrong with a person, happened. His head had been hit hard and he was reluctant to take off his helmet to see the damage. His neck hurt quite a bit too, obviously something Edan refused to look or feel at the moment. The overwhelming misty darkness and eye wincing haze also played a good defense against his head. He turned and weaved to check even the smallest crevices in between buildings in the distance, but it was no use. Edan was in pain again. He gave up searching for the time being and started to fall to his knees. Keeping his gun lifted, Edan undid the strap under his chin, and felt over his helmet.

         The back of his helmet had caved in, but strangely enough, he could not feel it on the inside. He grasped the base of the helmet and ripped it off, throwing it in the knee deep water to the cold concrete below, scattering helmet shrapnel. He then felt the back of his head to show himself nothing. He had not been hurt as bad as he would of thought. Regaining some of his lost sense, Edan returned to scanning. He moved forward over a jumble of bricks, regaining himself to his feet, and over other building material to step to the street. He dropped almost two feet as he stepped off the curb. "Damn it! Let me rest!", Edan screamed fed up with this abnormal day, this deceitful situation, everything that had weighed on him.

         Standing in over knee deep water and being showered with rain, Edan lifted his gun again and scanned for the culprit. Then from behind, four fingers wrapped around his right and a giant thumb to his left, flinging him again even farther, skipping over the water like a stone, rolling a bit to a stop, covering his face and head.

          He laid still for several seconds, regrouping his mind and telling himself to stay calm again. His thoughts were racing, and he had no idea what was being said. He was mentally brain dead to himself and he couldn't manage to lift his arms again. "AHHH!! RWAH!!!" The agonizing scream again echoed and made the rain faint. Edan rolled off the curb to his back and could see the bloody water again, flowing over him. He tried to see through it to recover his gun, but it was no where to be found. He scratched and swashed but nothing appeared. He looked up to watch over his perimeter again but it was too late. The monstrous figure was literally standing over him. He reached for his other gun, but was gripped by the giant hand again.

         He was brought to the face of the beast as his arms were being crushed against his sides, ribs being drained of his body’s contents, as the grip grew tighter. "Huff*...Huff*...Huff*...He...He was...my comrade...my f...friend...my brother.." The beast muttered through his grey lips and bleeding nose. His eyes were simply giant pupils like an animal of some sort and his skin was many shades of greenish grey. His hands were unreal. They were the size of Edan’s entire body, and he had the marks to prove it by now.

         Edan remained speechless as his face was grim and surprised at the same time. He stared deep into the monster's eyes, while the beast did the same right back. The giant's bottom lip kind of overlapped his top making it look all the more evil and sinister. It breathed hard for several seconds looking deep into Edan's soul through his eyes. Its grip grew tighter and his eyes grew more and more filled with hatred it seemed. Edan's face began to become blank. His emotions had been ripped from him it seemed. Edan figured if he was going to die, he‘d want it to be before this gripping pain took full affect. "If you’re going to kill me…do it. Your friend…deserved his death”, Edan said as quietly and stern as he could, out of breath and beaten. The beast grunted.

         In a shockingly fast movement, the beast flung Edan directly down to the concrete, back first. It seemed as if a nuclear weapon had exploded as the shockwave of water stopped the rain for seconds. Edan's lifeless body bounced only once more before the water poured back down upon him. He stepped over Edan's seemingly lifeless corpse to get to his left side. Filled with rage and fury, the beast flung his foot at a pulse stopping speed, kicking Edan in the ribs sending him flying across the street to the opposite sidewalk into another building, stopping only for a second before he bounced back to the pavement and stopped suddenly, as a pole slammed into his face. The pole shook and as a chain reaction, it bent.

         "I’m not ...supposed to ...to be here..", The beast shook his head and grabbed it as if it were in pain. It seemed to be beating itself up. It slammed itself in the stomach until it screamed even louder. It covered its head and shook side to side. Its bleeding nose seemed to make the water even redder than the puddle around Edan. And just when it seemed the beast was going to end its own life, it stopped. It took one last look at Edan’s struggling corpse, laying in his own pool of blood, through the rain and started a sprint down the street and turned off into a warehouse alley.

         The rain poured and the water flowed into storm drains causing whirlpools every hundred feet or so. The debris from the building was slowly being washed down the street along with the remains of Edan's Crimson 3600. No lights had been turned on in the commotion surprisingly, but this was a warehouse district: never really hectic. Edan laid. The water was over his face and sight was impossible from under water where the blood fogged. He moved his head up for a sudden breath, but just as fast, he fell back under the water. He grasped the pole breathing hard as blood flowed from his nose.

         A feeling of faint was coming over him, as the pain etched away at his soul. He grasped harder on the pole in hopes of getting his face completely out of the water and maybe even the rain. It was hopeless. Edan glimpsed up at the pole before he realized it was a sign. He cleared his head for a moment more and focused on its text. Dimmesdale...Edan looked in shock as he had made it, but there was no Anarchist. No one was there except for that beast. Edan slipped in and out of life for several seconds before he heard the last thing he knew he would ever hear: the sounds of a vehicle approaching from a distance. Edan was losing his grip on reality, his life seemed to be washing away with the rest of the flood waters. The headlights of what seemed to be a Humvee picked at his senses somewhat, but there was no fighting it now. “He‘s alive, sir”, a voice was heard before all sense of reality bled away. He begged for consciousness, but only God knew his fate at this point.