2004-06-02T03:26:00.000-07:00

A clock buzzer sounds, it is followed shortly by a deep groan and a large calloused hand slapping hard on the buzzer to shut it up. The clock reads 5.45 a.m.; Jong is used to waking up at this time. Slowly the medium built man rises out of bed, a cold breeze blows in through his broken window, it matters not, Jong is used to the hard life. His lifeless brown eyes gaze out into the blackness outside the window, already used to almost never seeing the sun, Jong is an underground denizen that most of the community denies exists. Having to take multiple jobs and wear various disguises, just to support his style of living. The bedroom he is in is damp and dark. Bare. Save for a single chair, table and chest of drawers that sits in the corner of the room.

He looks at the calendar that hangs from the corner of his bed, only one job today, and the rent is due. Jong entertained the thought of killing the annoying old woman that the building knew as the landlady, he thought the better of it. Jong dons the faded denim blue work overalls that was draped across the chair, on the back written "Harold's Window Cleaners". He lifted his pillow to reveal a dull looking .045 revolver. Can't be too careful in this neighborhood. He grabbed the back that contained his equipment, and left the room to look for some breakfast, it would be a long day today.

Mayor John Taylor slowly stirs from his sleep, his eyes are barely opened when his youngest daughter leaps onto his bed and stars yelling and jumping again.

"Darling, Daddy, is sleepy right now, tell Michael to come back later".

"But Daddeeee!!"

Barbara Taylor in a dreary voice starts to rouse "Honey, can you please see what is up with the kids, I am very tired from last night"
John Taylor smirks, thinking of the wild night he had last night with the goddess that slept beside him, he then woke himself to reality, and slowly lifted himself out of bed calling "Michael! Stop annoying your sister!"

Jong, had the type of look that would not set him apart from any regular man, he had the look which you could never remember. The mix of Korean and Caucasian blood that ran through his veins helped him as he didn't look Asian or white, in fact he looked neither nor like any of the two. Sometimes it helped in the jobs that he did. People like him never had the desire to stand out. He drove his white van down an alleyway, parked it and got out, he heard a skittering in the corner, he didn't care, Rat or Dog, Neither bothered him. The alleyway smelt of stale urine and had the faint waft of fecal matter, he was used to such places. He quickly walked out and crossed the road, into the tall office building that was across the road, time for him was of the essence, he was running out of time to get his job done.

Mayor John Taylor was on his way to City Hall, he stared blankly out of his limousine window as the car drive by. much was on his mind, especially that he had a press conference on today. He was going to give a speech and press conference on his new tough stand against organised crime. He looked across the limousine to see his youngest daughter laying with her Barbie doll, he reminded himself that he was getting old. he ran his hand through his hair, it was streaked grey, even though John was only 40 years old. His eyes showed a tired weariness, the toll of being mayor of a crime filled city didn't hang well on his shoulders, the only things that kept him going was God and his family. He wouldn't be around long enough to ensure that his grandchildren would remain safe in the city he grew up in as a boy. He mouthed a silent prayer, praying that God would protect his Children, and help him get through the day.

"We're almost at Casey's school, sir."

"Thanks James, Come on now Casey love, put Charlie aside, we don't want to be late for school now do we?"

Jong reached the 20th floor of the office building he was in and found the empty room as promised. It was very dirty with yellow stained windows, they would be very hard to clean. There was once, Jong was tasked with cleaning out an entire city block. It was very messy, in those gang ridden parts of town, things get very dangerous down there, and it takes skill, to even walk out alive. But Jong was a talented individual, he was hired for his skill was well known. People who hired him sometimes even dared to joke about him and nicknamed him "The cleaner". Jong was famous for doing a thorough and clean job. He opened his work sack and emptied the contents on the floor, Chemicals and various things amongst others, he opened a window and allowed air to flow in, he stared outside for a while, along a road and saw a black limousine driving not too far away. Jong slowly but steadily began assembling the equipment that he will soon be needing for his work. Setting up a stand right next to the window, fixing a long metal silencing cylinder, he knew he had not much time.

A black limousine pulled up at Chancellery Intermediate School, A door opens and out jumps Casey and slowly out steps Mayor Taylor.

"I love you daddy, I'll miss you."

John Taylor kneels down and hugs his daughter, "I love you too honey."

Jong stands steadily, with wind blowing his short brown hair around. His hands around the grip of his most prized possession, all 5kgs of Russian designed and built black metal.

"God, forgive me for what is must do."

He depresses the trigger of the automatic sniper rifle the moment he sees through his sniper scope, the man dressed in a black suit kneel.

John Taylor feels a tremendous blow on the left side of his head and is forcefully showed to the right, he tires to stand up, but he can't, the right side of his body is not moving or responding to his bodily commands, he cannot see anything but as his left arm moves to where the left side of his head was, he feels nothing, as he looses consciousness he fails to hear the screaming voice of Casey, covered in blood and brain matter. Her high shrill voice not being drowned out by the scene of carnage that surrounded her. Covered in her own father's blood and screaming, she very rapidly attracts the screams and shudders of the children and passers-by that were crowded amongst the front of Chancellery Intermediate School.

Jong dismantles the rifle and slowly packs everything into his bag. His lifeless eyes staring blankly looking past everything as he with robotic precision strips down the rifle into its individual components. He steps out of the room and closes the door.
Another Job well done.

- Joel Tai

2004-02-19T03:27:00.000-08:00

Book III

Chapter I

The rain poured down mercilessly, drowning the shouts which were already fading with distance.

Atreus sat under the rock outcrop sobbing, red patches were expanding from the holes in Nike's trench coat, slowly red streaks began to flow and mingle with the rain water, like snakes flowing down river the streaks grew and flowed from rock to soil. Nike's life was beyond reach. She was riddled with holes. Wounds that were cauterised by the lascannons didn't bleed but were much more severe. Atreus removed Nike's trench coat to inspect her injuries and just noticed that the skull on her Psycher insignia had a hole running throuh it's left eye socket, the symbolism struck deeply into Atreus's mind. Psychers were being purged left and right across the imperium and the only way to truly ensure the psycher was dead was a bolt right through the left eye. Atrues daren't remove her black under jacket, to inspect her injuries. He didn't want to know she would die. Slowly he pulled the twin magnetic strips of her under jacket apart, the smell of burnt flesh drifted up, Nike moaned in pain, a quick glance and Atreus knew that Nike was not going to make it, not without the appropriate medical facilities and organ grafts, her heart was puntured but the lascannon blast had cauterised the wound. He removed her shirt to attempt to stem bloodflow from the carbine bolt holes in her chest. Her chest was a bloody mess, the carbine bolts did thier work well. Nike was dying in his hands.

"Archie... remember what we stood for... we musn't give up ... don't ...let... Garion get away with this treachery."

Blood spurted out of Nike's mouth.

"Archie... I am dying... I won't make it to any med station in time."

Her voice was growing fainter "Know that I will always love you.. know that wherever you go... my presence will always and forever... be... by... your... side..." And Nike Exhaled her last breath. Atreus felt her presence still linering in her conciousness, but without proper medical equiptment, it wouldn't last long.

The sun was fast decending. A soft warm shadow of a branch slowly edged over Nike's face.

"By words of Night, we will not falter, apart we are strong, together we are invincible." He said. "I will not forget you would have wanted Nike, I will return to claim your body"

Atreus laid the limp body of Nike out and covered it with her trenchcoat. He looked at her face one last time, noted every soft feminine curve, and the strong character that still shone on her face. He vowed Garion Arkham would pay dearly under his breath and began to continue his long trek towards the runis of Felloran temples. With luck, he would make good distance by sundown.

Some random story