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Artifice Comics Presents... |
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“Wow, a real, live mob!” I was stunned. Simply amazed. In all my months of being all heroic I had never stumbled across any sort of organized crime. But, no, here I was dancing around bullets fired by some mob I happened to stumble across while patroling the harbor area of Pacific City one night. It was pretty neat. I leapt and rolled behind a crate and stayed there for a second while the gents on the other side cooled their jets. A couple of them decided that shooting through the crate would be a good idea. “YOU IDIOTS!” shouted a heavily accented voice. “STOP FIRING!” And they did. “Do you idiots not realize what you are firing at?” said the voice again. I didn’t, so, being sure to remain out of view, I turned around and hammered my fist into the side of the crate which broke away with ease. I quickly pulled the side apart and pushed through the packing peanuts and newspaper padding and was greeted with another case. Only this one was perfectly labled with a completely recognizable symbol. Biohazard. “Find anything interesting?” I looked up to see the man with the voice towering over me. The guy looked like a bull. A bunch of the cronies were also surrounding me, their guns perfectly aimed this time. “You guys aren’t exactly Federal Express, are ya?” I asked, hoping that would be a nice and witty retort somewhat relevant to the situation. It wasn’t. Anthology 2 #70 The man with the voice grabbed the back of my collar, lifted me off the ground and threw me back into a pile of crates that must have been a few yards away. My, this guy was strong. I started to push myself up from the broken crates and felt his big ol’ fist connect with my face in a none too plesant manner, sending me back into the splintered wood. “Get up,” he said, waiving me up. “Nice accent,” I said, pushing myself up, “you sound like Yakoff Smirnoff.” He punched me again, but this time he grabbed my shirt before I could crash back into the crates. “I do not know who you are talking about, friend,” said the man, lifting me into the air, “but I do not like sound of your voice.” He threw me again. I hit the floor and skid a bit before being stopped by a pillar. I looked up to notice the gunmen all standing at ease now, enjoying this wonderful little show. I pushed myself up as the big guy came at me again. He thrust out his leg and kicked me in the gut, pushing me into the pillar and pinning me as he held his foot against me. “Why must you wear silly mask?” asked the man with a grin. “To protect you from my amazing good looks,” I said just above a whisper as I tried to breathe. I brought my fists down into his leg and he yelped when his leg bent the wrong way. The Russian accent guy pulled his foot out of my gut and I fell to my hands and knees on the floor, trying not to heave because, well, that’d be a mess in this Bush mask. I sat up and pulled back as a foot whipped through the air where my face was just a second before. “Careful,” I said, hopping to my feet, “somebody might get hurt.” I stepped aside as he swung at me and then stumbled as he tried to put weight on his, thanks to me, sore leg. Then I just gave him a little nudge on his back and he fell face first onto the floor. I crooked my arm, held it up, patted my elbow and fell ontop of the man, executing a perfect elbow drop into the Russian’s back. I stood up and looked to the surrounding gun men who were not as at ease as they had been earlier. “Any of you all want in on this?” I asked. Then my legs were pulled from under me. My head hit the ground as I was whipped upside down and then lifted into the air just high enough to where the man’s knee fit perfectly into my face. I swung back and then forward again right into another knee that swung me far enough back to where he let me go and I hung in the air for a second before heading to the ground. I caught myself with my arms, keeping my head from hitting the ground again, but that didn’t matter as the Russian gun stomped on the back of my head and put me face first into the concrete floor. The man chuckled. “I must thank you, friend,” said the man as he grabbed the back of my collar and lifted me up. “I have not had work out in very long time.” “My pleasure,” I said as I lashed out and connected with the man’s jaw, stunning him briefly and making him drop me. I scrambled a few feet away from him and tried to steady myself in some sort of stance in case he came at me again. He shook his head and started to laugh. “Oh,” he said with a smile, “this is good. This is very good. Let us play.” He lunged at me and I tried to move out of the way, but he was faster than he looked and connected with a quick punch that made me stumble back. He came with another and I brought up my arm to block it, only to be hit by his other hand before I had a chance to react. He spun around with a high kick that would have hit my head if I hadn’t had fallen to the ground. I rolled as he once again tried to stomp on me. He laughed again as I got back to my feet. “I like you,” he said, “you do not stay down.” “I like you too,” I said, panting for breath. “You’re like a big teddy bear. Hey, uh, mind if I ask what the hazardous stuff is for?” I asked, pointing to the crate. He looked over his shoulder to see what I was pointing at. “That?” he asked as he started to turn back. “Oh, that is…” I cut him off with a swift kick in the nuts. He stood there for a moment, his hands clutching his boys, his face scrunched like he ate something nice and tart. I just stood back, ready for him to pounce if the kick didn’t put him down. But it did. “No fair,” he wheezed as he fell to the ground. The gunmen didn’t know what to do at the sight of their big leader guy falling down in horrible agony. Neither did I for that matter. But we all figured it out soon enough as I started to run and they started to shoot at me again. I ran behind a bunch of crates and they stopped firing, so I assumed I was behind some forbidden goods. I stopped and listened carefully, trying to hear what they were doing. When I was sure I heard footsteps on the other side of the crates I leaned my back against the stack and pushed, toppeling the whole pile over and, ideally, pinning a few guys down. I turned around, expecting to see chaos, only to be greeted by most if not all of the gunmen standing a safe distance from the fallen crates while the big guy pushed himself back to his feet. Oops. “Um, hey, guys,” I said. They aimed. *** She raised her head above the water momentarily to have a look around. The docks were empty this time of night, but she knew that would change in the next hour. She looked behind her and out to sea. While she could not see it she knew the ship was there, she had been following it for the last couple of days, trying to figure out how to stop it. The only plan that she could come up with that had a remote chance of working was to stop the boat while it was docked. And even that had a slim chance of success. But she had to try. She quickly looked back to the docks as she heard a commotion and then dove back under the water. *** My ass tore from through the side of the warehouse and I tumbled down across the docks and stopped as I hit a post and bent weird backwards around it. Ouch. The big Russian guy stepped through the beautiful hole I had made and lumbered towards me, a slight limp in his leg and grimmace on his face. “You fight dirty, friend,” he said as he reached down for me. “Hey, is that Millennium Man?” I asked, pointing behind the man. He didn’t even look. Eh, it was worth a shot. His hand wrapped around my neck and he picked me up into the air. I tried to kick him in the nuts again but his hand covered his boys too quick. Then he punched me in the face nice and hard. “You fight real dirty, friend,” he said, and then he brought me up, around and down, face first into the docks. God, Alfonse would be so disappointed in me. He lifted me back up and studied me for a moment, or, I think he did. It was all a blur at this point. I remember him slamming me face first into the docks again for good measure, I guess, and then I was brought back up. Now my mask was all twisted and I couldn’t see shit, but with my head reeling and little birdies singing it really didn’t matter all that much. He shouted something in Russian I guess and some guys came running up and I felt them start to wrap something around me. I tried to struggle but a hard punch in the face stopped that. So the had me all bound in no time. The Russian lifted me above his head with both hands and walked towards the edge of the docks. “You know I’m invulnerable, right?” I think I kinda slurred as if in a drunken stupor. “But you must breathe, yes?” he replied. Oh yeah. And then I was in the air. *** She heard the splash and started to panic, thinking she must have been spotted. She swam from the docks and stopped when she felt she was a safe distance and brought her head above the water again, affording herself a look back. All but one of the men who had stepped out on the docks walked away while the one remaining looked into the water. After a few moments he nodded, turned, and left the docks as well. She went back under the water and started to swim towards whatever they had dropped in. *** I was squirming like hell, trying to get out of the ropes before I died. Crap, this sucked. So much for the superhero thing. Not even a year into it and here I am drowning. I felt darkness starting to close in as I tried so hard not to breathe, not yet. I knew I was reaching the point of no return, soon I’d pass out and the body would inhale for me. Thanks, body. And then I thought I was dreaming. Or having a near death experience. The first thing I saw was her blonde hair, shimering as the moonlight cut through the water and caught it just right. And then her face. I swore she was an angel. A half naked angel at that, with a fish tail instead of legs. A mermaid? She grabbed at the ropes that bound me and started to untie me. I passed out before I could even consider coping a feel. *** She knew she should have left him there. He would only be in the way and probably get hurt. But she couldn’t leave him there to drown. She hoped he was not one of the bad guys. They broke the surface of the water under the dock and the man gasped for air and panted. She quickly covered his mouth and lifted a finger over her lips with a gentle “shhhh”. He nodded as he continued to take deep breaths. He whispered something to her but she ignored him, instead listening for other sounds, other people, other things. She turned to look out to sea and could now see the lights of the approaching ship. She let go of the man and dove back under the water without looking back at him. *** “Thanks,” I whispered, a combination of because she told to be quiet and that was all I could muster at this point. I continued to gulp for air as she completely ignored me and looked out to sea. I glanced out there as well and saw a ship approaching, a light flashing three pulses before going out. And then she dove back into the water, her fish-like tail breaking the surface momentarily and then sinking in behind her. “Hey!” I whispered, looking into the water while trying to tread, realizing she had been holding me up. I kicked off my shoes and still went under. I franticly shed my suit coat and then swam back to the surface. I swam towards a ladder on the dock and held on as I reached up and pulled the bottom of the mask away from my neck, letting the water drain out as I tried to catch my breath. Damn, a suit and mask was not very good for swimming in. Not that this was a planned dunk, mind you, but I vowed to be better prepared in the future. I looked around to try and see where the girl had gone but couldn’t see her anywhere. And then there was a commotion on the dock above me. The Russian was shouting something in, well, Russian. And from the tone I’d say it was a command of sorts. Sounded like they were on the move. I looked back out and noticed the ship approaching this dock and then knew what was happening. Whatever that biohaz stuff was, they were getting it on that boat and gone. *** She swam alongside the ship, following it as it slid towards the dock. She tried to think of how exactly to enact her plan and then realized that it was all too much for her. She was one, they were many, and they had weapons. But she had no choice. She must stop them, or die trying. *** I climbed up the ladder and took a peek over the edge, quickly ducking back down. I raised my head again for another look. No one had noticed me, they were all facing the other way or towards the ship, waiting for it to pull in. Then I saw the crates, among them the one I had torn into. They were stacked on a pallet of some sort with chains leading from the corners and connected together to the top, ready for the hook to load it on the boat. Yep, I was right, they were getting ready to ship that stuff somewhere. And, considering it wasn’t very friendly stuff, I had to assume they didn’t have very friendly intentions for it. I sat on a rung of the ladder and quickly removed my tie and dress shirt, dropping it into the water beneath me. Being all wet and stuff, it was only going to get in the way. I was looking less and less like a well dressed George W. Bush and more and more like some guy in a mask. Fair enough. I stood back up and glanced onto the dock again, trying to formulate a plan of action. There were bad guys on the docks and the boat, but the boat was the larger threat. It could get farter away faster. I thought about running and calling the cops, let them deal with this, but they’d take too long. All the other hero folks were probably busy as well. I wonder what Romanov thinks of this stuff going on under his nose? I’ll have to remember to ask him later. It was up to me. And maybe the mermaid or whatever she was. But what could she do, being a mermaid and all? *** She grabbed onto a rung of the ladder built into the side of the boat and held on as the ship slowed while it pulled up to the dock. She started pulling herself up, emerging from the water and looking around for a moment to make sure she was clear. She was on the other side of the boat from the dock and no one from above was looking over, so she continued to pull herself up. To her waist she looked human, whether underwater or not, and beyond that was her tail. But as it was exposed to air it quickly changed color, texture and shape, becoming a pair of legs. She continued to pull herself up until her entire body was out of the water and then she used her legs as well, climbing up the side of the ship. When she reached the top she looked over and around. Most of the crew was working towards the dock while one man looked out to sea and another out to the read of the harbor, both with guns, keeping guard. She ducked back over the edge when the man looking out over the harbor turned towards her. She stayed there, quiet, hiding for a moment, listening to his foot steps on the deck. She looked up and waited. The man leaned over, looking forward at first and then looking down. As soon as he saw her she had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him overboard. *** I watched as a crane from the boat lowered it’s hook and then men on the dock attached it to the chain around the crates. One man signaled up to the boat and the crane started to retract the chain and hook, pulling the crates up slowly. I readied myself as I watched it raise. When it was about five feet up I made a break for it. I leapt onto the deck and sprinted towards the crates, pushing past a couple people in my way and ignoring the shouts as I was noticed. I jumped and reached out, the crates at least seven feet off the ground by the time I reached them, my hands barely grabbing onto the edge of the pallet holding them in the air. The man with the accent shouted something as I braced for the gunfire. None came. Must’ve said don’t shoot. Smart boys. There were shouts on the deck of the boat and the crane stopped pulling the crates up and then started to lower them again. I quickly swung myself onto the pallet and climbed up the crates, bracing myself by grabbing the hook as I suddenly felt the crates lurch. I heard a grunt and looked over to see a hand reach the top of the crates and then a face. “Hello, friend,” said the man with the accent, a huge grin on his face. *** She was thankful that the man’s cries were muffled by the commotion on the other side of the ship. She was also thankful that she was able to grab the gun from the man’s hands as he fell into the water below. She leapt onto the deck of the boat with the gun ready, firing at the other look out before he even had a chance to see her. She cringed at the noise the gun made and shuddered with the kick back. She turned and saw she had the rest of the crew’s attention now, and many of them were turning to her, the rest keeping their sights over the other side of the ship. The men on the boat were stunned at first. She was beautiful, her wet, blonde hair tousled and sticking to her head and hanging past her shoulders, resting on her naked body. Her curves were perfect, as if she were created out of imagination or simply sent down from Heaven. And many found the tool of death in her hands profoundly erotic. When she fired upon them they came out of their daze, realizing that goddess or not, this woman was trying to kill them and, ultimately, the enemy. She stood firm as she fired, the weapon’s automatic fire doing most of the work for her. The gun ran out of ammunition too quick for her liking, but she wasted no time tossing the gun to the side propelling leaping backwards into the air, flipping over the railing, and diving back into the water before the men on the ship fired even one shot. *** I swiftly kicked the guy in his face before he even pulled himself on top of the crates with me. He fell back but one hand grabbed onto one of the chains supporting the crates and held on. I looked over briefly to see him kicking and trying to get back on the crates. I jumped up and grabbed onto the chain from the crane and started to climb up. As soon as I started up someone started firing at me, the bullets hitting but falling off. Just because I’m invulnerable doesn’t mean those things don’t sting. I dropped back to the crates and they stopped firing. The guy with the accent started climbing again and then there was a thud as the crates settled back down on the docks. Crap. I looked around and saw the gunmen on the dock advancing and the guy with the accent finally getting back on top. I quickly crouched down and punched my hands into the crate beneath me. My Russian friend kicked me just as I grabbed onto the contents of the crate. I fell off the stack, but held on tight to a wonderful case of that beautiful biohazardous material. No one came near me as I stood up and lifted the case over my head. “That’s right!” I shouted. “Who’s the bad ass now?” I looked around and shook the case, spooking everyone around as they stepped back. The Russian leapt off the crates and slowly walked towards me. “Friend, please,” he said, his hands held out in front of him, “please put that down, you do not know what you are doing.” “Sure I do,” I said, “stopping you. Put your guns down!” I shouted. “All of you!” The gunmen look at one another and then started laying their guns on the ground. “That’s right,” I said. “HEY!” I shouted to the Russian who stopped advancing towards me. “Stay right there.” “Please, you are only killing yourself, friend,” said the Russian. “And you,” I said, and he nodded with a shrug, “and I’m stopping you from using this.” “But you do not know what you are stopping us from,” said the Russian. “I don’t give a rats ass,” I shouted. I looked over as the crane on the ship started to pull the crates up again. The Russian took that opportunity to charge at me. I brought the case down on his head and it split open. I leapt back as the contents poured all over him. His howl was the most unnerving thing I had heard in a very long time. I stepped back as he reached out for me, the toxic mess running down his body, eating away his clothes, his flesh. I ran and leapt onto the rising crates as the gunmen began to fire at me again. Even with me on the crates they kept firing. One stray bullet tore into a crate. There was a small explosion first, followed a second later by another. Then the entire group exploded. I was thrown into the air and over the boat that was leaning from the blast. Then I hit the water and blacked out. *** The blast tore through the dock and threw burning chemicals onto the gunmen who never had a chance. The Russian was lifted into the air and landed with a splash a hundred yards away in the harbor. People on the boat ran as the explosion tore a hole in the ship and it began to sink. She sat and watched from a few yards back as the boat started to tip. A man aflame and flying through the air caught her attention right before he hit the water a few feet away. She quickly dove under the water. It was the same man she had rescued earlier, she noticed as she swam next to him, though he was now missing the mask and holes had been burned through his clothing. She grabbed onto his limp body and once again pulled him to the surface and swam towards a nearby beach away from the sinking ship and the fire while he gasped for air. *** I thought I was having a near death experience. I was on a beach, waves gently lapping at the shore and my feet as I lay there, staring into a beautiful night sky. Then I saw her, her hair dangling down, gently touching my face as she moved inches above it. She leaned down and tenderly kissed my forehead. “Good job,” she said in a soothing voice so light and heavenly. And then she pulled away. I sat up to see her running back into the surf. I watched as her naked body dove into the water and then a fin broke the surface behind her and slid back under. A short distance away was the docks of Pacific Harbor, a fire blazing and a ship sinking. I watched as police, fire and rescue arrived and hoped that whatever that chemical had burned off. I looked back out to the water, hoping to see the girl again. I stared at the surface for thirty minutes before I gave up and headed back into the heart of Pacific City.Trilogy of Terror film
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