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Conviction
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Spamdini
Joined: 22 Jan 2007
Posts: 1322
(Tue Apr 22, 2008 3:52 pm)
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Post     Re: Conviction

I find it hard to believe that some WOMAN could be as evil and dangerous as McHarris.
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Wed Apr 23, 2008 12:12 pm)
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Post     Re: Conviction

A young boy runs into his family's tiny one-room hut. He had been playing all day with the other emaciated children of the village. His mother looks up and shakes her head.

"Nico, I called you in for supper an hour ago! I even made your favorite!" his mother scolds.

Nico's face grows bashful, he can't look his mom in the face, "Sorry, mom, I guess I didn't hear you."

"Well, Nico," his mother says, "I was this close to throwing your food right out."

"No, not my dirt without rocks!"

"I'm putting the rocks back in. I spent hours taking those rocks out, but now you're just going to have to eat them."

"Aww," the boy whines and his body droops. "Where's dad?"

"He should be back any minute; he went out to take a shit."

Suddenly a deathly moan enters the hut. The boy shudders and then turns around in time to see a blur fly over him. Looking back at his mother, he sees some kind of monster ripping her face off between its teeth. It looks right back at Nico, its face a twisted, evil version of his father's. The zombie drops his wife's corpse and floats over toward his son. The boy runs out into the streets, only to find that every third peasant is just like his old man. Nico trips and falls into the smoke that has taken over the village and when he stands again, five flying zombies reach down to rip him apart.

--------------------------------

"Falcon, we've got to fucking run!"

Captain Falcon stares through his ward. John sprints frantically toward the village, not even pausing for Falcon to follow. Almost instantaneously, Captain Falcon catches up with John and, while still looking forward, asks, "What is happening?"

"Nothing good."

Zombies start flying out of the village straight at the two men and Captain Falcon rushes ahead of John right back at them.

"FALCON PAAAAAAAAAALM!"

The Captain's palm bursts through the zombie's skull and the pieces disintegrate into wisps of smoke. Falcon turns to see the other zombie and shouts, "FALCON KIIIIIIIIICK!" turning the zombie into chunks of flesh. Smoke rises from the remains and quickly dissipates.

"What manner of witchcraft is this?" the Captain asks.

"Damn it, Washington," John yells and runs even faster before he's clotheslined to the ground. He chokes, trying to breathe through his crushed windpipe.

"It's about damn time they let me fight someone worth killing," a gravelly, disembodied voice spits out. "Let's see if the old prophecy is true."
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Thu Apr 24, 2008 12:41 pm)
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Post     Re: Conviction

"What the fuck?"

John grabs his throat and coughs. Looking around, he sees nothing, but the sound of monstrous laughter circles around him. Captain Falcon stops to find out what's wrong, but John waves him away. "Go on, I'll be right behind you."

"You haven't told me what your plan is," Falcon points out.

"Fine. Just watch me, then." John stands up and cracks his neck. Drawing his iron gavel, he readies to attack. "Where the godfuck are you, you shitting coward?"

"HERE!" A punch strikes John's back, sending him rolling forward. The voice cackles, sprints and kicks, knocking John rolling back. "Just another pathetic human. The prophecy is a lie!" Two invisible spears pin John to the ground through his shoulders. "Your death will set me free."

SHUNK

The loud sound of a blade piercing flesh. Purple blood drops down, splattering across John's tailor made jacket. A howl of pain fills the air, which is suddenly cut off and followed by a dull thud. A grey, decapitated humanoid form floats above him with bony appendages sprouting from its back. John pulls the bone legs from his shoulders and the corpse slams against the earth. Next to his own lies an insect-like head.

John whispers, "Jesus Goddamn Christ." Getting back to his feet, he sees George Washington wipe blood away from his sabre with a piece of cloth. "I figured you'd abandoned me, old man."

"Your role here isn't finished. Neither is mine." Washington points his sword at the tower. "Now go, meet your destiny."

John lifts his gavel and runs to his destination, quickly followed by Falcon. Washington nods gravely and turns his horse to the right. A bald man in a suit removes his bowler hat with one hand and spins his cane to his waist with the other, bowing slightly to the former president. Replacing the hat he smiles slightly but clearly without any sort of authenticity. The two stare silently at each other for several moments before the Secret Prime Minister of Great Britain opens his mouth.

"I can't say I didn't expect you here, Washington," Orwellington says calmly. "It seems like you know more about what's going on than I do. But none of that matters at this point." Orwellington taps his cane on the ground and blood red ripples outward, eventually tinting the entire landscape. Soon the world becomes a twisted image, literally Hell on Earth.

"Your illusions are meaningless, Orwellington," Washington says, throwing his sword and cutting the cane in half. Immediately, the world snaps back into order.

"And that was just as meaningless," Orwellington retorts, "though I did think that cane looked awfully smart. Regardless, I didn't come here to fight you." He tilts his head to the side. "This gentleman did."

Stepping out of the darkness comes a raised eyebrow. "What's your name, friend?" Washington begins to say something but is cut off. "IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT YOUR NAME IS. All that matters is I'm about to lay the smack down on your jabroni ass, if you smell ... what The Rock ... is cookin'."
Servbot
Overrated faggot
Joined: 20 Jan 2007
Posts: 9020
(Fri Apr 25, 2008 8:30 am)
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Post     Re: Conviction

What the fuck is going on?
Action Hank
Yes, I fart dicks. Dicks actually come out of my anus when I fart.
Joined: 20 Jan 2007
Posts: 8600
(Fri Apr 25, 2008 8:53 am)
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Post     Re: Conviction

Oh no!


TL, your promos are slowly drifting into what I've been working at (if I am predicting what you want to do), so perhaps we could use this to our advantage and work on some joint promos.
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Fri Apr 25, 2008 1:04 pm)
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Post     Re: Conviction

John plows through the masses of flying zombies, spinning his gavel and ripping them to shreds. Chunks of flesh deteriorate into clouds of smoke, turning the world into a sweet-smelling fog. The dim reflections of Captain Falcon's burning palms are all that John can see, until he starts closing in on the tower. Lights covering the mechanical portions begin to light up, acting as a beacon. The red glow gradually becomes brighter with each passing minute.

----------------------

A black cloaked man frantically climbs the stairs, searching for his master. He collapses just outside the holding cell at the top of the building. "Father, the people ... They're attacking the tower!"

The Butcher steps out of the cell, furious. "Why aren't you killing them? The fools are unarmed!"

The cloaked disciple stands up, revealing the hole in his stomach, his intestines spilling out. "Th- they've gone ... insane ..." The man falls back, rolling down the stairs, dead.

Turning around, the Butcher points his knife at McCarthy. "Goddamn it, I knew this was a bad idea. God is punishing us for disobeying His will!"

McCarthy, ignoring his host, backhands the witch. "You're coming with me, you fucking bitch! Stand up or I'll drag you out of here by your stinking black hair!" He kicks the girl in the face and grabs her by the cheeks. "DO YOU HEAR ME? ANSWER ME!" He palms her face and lifts her off the ground, then throws her against the wall. She falls unconscious and McCarthy slings her over his shoulder.

"Well, Father," McCarthy says in a condescending tone, "if she can still control the zombies unconscious, then I suppose we're in trouble. But I doubt she's behind what's going on. It's simply my father, stirring up the morons who populate this worthless planet."

"Your father is behind this?"

"Probably," McCarthy shrugs, "He tends to have this sort of effect on people."

"It's been a while since I've had the chance to kill someone worthy of my knife," the Butcher says and runs his index finger against the blade. "God will put His power in my knife and I will slay this demon."

McCarthy rolls his eyes. "Whatever, you fucking ignorant piece of shit," he whispers to himself. "Now it's time to wait for whichever one of my dear family members shows up first."

----------------------

The Rock delivers a Rock Bottom, viciously slamming George Washington's crystal horse to the dirt, shattering it into thousands of pieces. Washington lands on his feet, back flipping off the horse at the last second before its demise. He dashes toward his sabre, ducking under a clothesline from The Rock, somersaulting and grabbing the hilt of his sword.

"You're even stronger than the rumors indicate," Washington says, "But you'll have to do more than that to win this battle."

Washington runs and thrusts his sabre at The Rock, who catches the blade in his hand and snaps the end off. Before he can gloat, Washington jumps and knees him in the jaw, knocking him off balance. While he stumbles back, Washington punches The Rock in the nose, shattering it.

BUT THE ROCK NO-SELLS and slaps Washington across the face. The Rock points his finger at Washington and says, "No one makes a mockery of The Rock. It doesn't matter if you're the first president of the United States, it doesn't matter if you have a wig for your wig or a brain for your heart, all that matters is The Rock is going to do what The Rock does best," The Rock pauses dramatically to pull out a pair of sunglasses and puts them on, "AND THAT'S LAYETH THE SMACK DOWN ON YOUR WOODEN -TEETH-HAVIN' ASS!"

The Rock raises his chin up and in the distance, you can hear thousands of people chanting "ROCKY! ROCKY! ROCKY!"
Yogurtman
Odin
Joined: 03 Jan 2007
Posts: 2248
(Fri Apr 25, 2008 9:54 pm)
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Post     Re: Conviction

The Rock is precisely the kind of asshole who would no-sell a punch from George Washington.
Magic Juan
Joined: 10 Jan 2007
Posts: 8709
(Sat Apr 26, 2008 10:37 am)
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Post     Re: Conviction

WHAT DO THE PEOPLE WANT????
Vinny
[00:10] How can you get an erect dick into your own ass?
Joined: 16 Jan 2007
Posts: 5181
(Sat Apr 26, 2008 11:33 am)
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Post     Re: Conviction

People all over the planet chant "Rocky" whenever he talks, even if they can't hear him.
_________________
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Sat Apr 26, 2008 6:25 pm)
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Post     Re: Conviction

Captain Falcon palms his way through the swarms of flying zombies, effortlessly smashing through their flesh. He lost the prisoner, John Baines McGuinness, several minutes ago, but he hopes that following the lights coming from the tower will lead him where he needs to go. The Native American keeps the target in sight, not letting the ghouls reaching out through the fog break his stoic concentration.

And then a child floats into his path. The Captain comes to a halt, the little monster giving him pause. The infant zombie opens his mouth, letting out a terrible moan and Falcon's momentary pause is all it needs to bite through the leather uniform and into Falcon's forearm. Captain Falcon regains his focus, ignoring the pain, and punches through the boy's face. As the body merges with the cloud around it, Falcon feels a tinge of regret. But he must move forward.

He continues running until a solid object obstructs his path. The impact throws Captain Falcon to the ground. All he can see from this point of view is a set of mechanical legs. Falcon rolls back and then leaps toward the form, grabbing it by the shoulders. Flames start emanating from his body and then an explosion bursts out between their bodies. Flipping back on his feet, Falcon readies to continue his attack. And then the smoke clears forming a ring around the man and the machine.

The steady sound of inhaling and exhaling comes from the machine, smoking circling around its body. It stands flat footed as Falcon yells, "FALCON PALM!" and fire smashes into the machine's chest. It only stumbles back one step.

"How you gonna burn someone who's always blazed, Tonto?" the machine says, its voice hollow and filled with bass.

"Move aside or I will be forced to destroy you," Captain Falcon threatens, regaining his fighting stance.

"You ain't a part of the boss' plans, but don't worry, Weed Machine is gonna get you high."

A wall of smoke shoots out from Weed Machine's wrists and then forces its way down Falcon's throat and into his lungs. Falcon chokes, his body instinctively trying to cough out the poison, but the smoke refuses to yield. As more and more smoke fills Falcon's lungs, he can feel his body growing lighter. Before he knows it, he's a few feet off the ground and rising.

"It ain't personal, Tonto," Weed Machine says, "Strictly business, baby. Strictly business."

Hundreds of feet in the air, Captain Falcon grows dizzy, light headed. As he begins to suffocate, the smoke starts to exit his mouth.

------------------------

The smoke starts to clear as John gets closer to the tower. Flying zombies and men in black robes are battling at the doors of the tower, the zombies easily gaining the upper hand. The disciples desperately wish to retreat into the safety of tower behind them, but it was locked over an hour ago by command of the High Priest. It's little comfort that he promised them the eternal reward of standing by God's side come judgment day.

Suddenly, they're rescued as John's gavel sweeps the zombies aside. One tries to express his gratitude, but is only answered by having his skull flattened between cold iron and the hard wood of the door. The others try to flee, but then realize they're running straight into the middle of the demonic hoards. Their realization comes too late as they're ripped to pieces within moments.

John pounds the door with his hammer, the first blow cracking it and the second one sending splinters of wood scattering across the room inside. He steps through the hole and sees a lone figure standing on the opposite end, two rows of the skinned, hanging corpses acting like a hallway between the men. On the far end, the Butcher stands, completely nude except for a white, bloody apron, and wielding his favorite butcher knife.

"You're not the one I was waiting for," the Butcher says, cocking his head in curiosity. Then he smiles. "But you look like you might make a fine appetizer."
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Sat May 17, 2008 3:18 pm)
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Post     Re: Conviction

In the cell that once jailed the witch, eyes glow red in the corner. A tiny figure, bathed in shadows, crawls out and looks out of the steel-barred window. A small hand reaches between the bars and the tiny figure's eyes glow brighter.

----------------------------

A karate kick whips across the Butcher's face, sending him staggering into a hanging corpse. His grin widens and he throws a knife at John Baines McGuinness, who dodges while it embeds itself in another body. John dashes and delivers a fierce punch to the Butcher's jaw, the follow through slamming the Butcher's head into the stone floor.

"I don't have time for you," John says, "Where's McHarris?"

The Butcher sits up and laughs. "McHarris? That's who I was waiting for, boy." He reaches behind his back and pulls out a handful of butcher knives. "I'm a little rusty, this should be a good warm up, don't you think?"

The knives are hurled through the air, but John doesn't budge, letting them all pierce his chest. Blood dyes his white shirt red. He walks forward calmly and stares the Butcher in the eyes. The Butcher looks back with amusement.

"Stop trying to intimidate me," the Butcher says while slowly rising to his feet. "You're going to bleed out soon. What a waste of my time." He cocks back his fist and punches a knife through John's gut, sending it flying out the other side and sticking into the wall.

John stumbles, but recovers quickly. Pulling the remaining knives from his torso, he tosses them all in the air with one hand. Unslinging the gavel from his back, he bats them at the Butcher who blocks and catches them in his forearms. He grunts in pain, then quickly flicks his arms, tossing the knives to the ground.

"Still got some fight in you, eh?" the Butcher wonders aloud. He charges forward like an insane bear and smacks John through the wall of meat. Hearing John crash against the next row of bodies, the Butcher giggles. "Well? You expected to fight McHarris at your level? What a monumental joke! You're a fool as well as an infidel and your hubris shall be punished at my righteous hands." Ripping two bodies from the ceiling, one in each hand, the Butcher swings wildly while running through the rows of hanging meat.

"Coward!" the Butcher yells. "Face your doom with honor and perhaps God will have mercy upon your soul!"

Suddenly, the Butcher feels twin chops from behind at his triceps. When he turns, his arms fall off and tumble along the floor. He screams in horror as blood erupts like geysers from the stumps that used to be his arms.

Quickly becoming lightheaded, the Butcher's screams become hoarse pants. Almost expressionless, only his wide eyes show any sign of life. He watches the veins in John's replacement arm bulge through his massive muscles.

"Your reign of terror ends here, Butcher," John says unemotionally, "I find you ... guilty."

With a single punch to the mid-section, the Butcher's intestines burst out of his back, liquefied, painting the wall behind red and gray.
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Mon May 19, 2008 2:02 am)
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Post     Re: Conviction

The dismembered corpses of dozens of the Butcher's disciples begin to turn a sickly shade of green. Pieces slowly pull themselves together into a crude mockery of humanity, the shells rising to their feet. The last spark of intelligence in their cobbled together minds recognizes the floating ghouls who took their wretched lives. In a slow, steady gait, the reanimated dead seek their revenge.

Horrified, the last survivors of Butcher Bay huddle together and watch two opposing armies of zombies clash. The undead rip each other to pieces and then reassemble, turning into a never-ending cycle of carnage. A shrill scream suddenly halts the battle. Pausing momentarily, the zombies see the living and thirst for warm blood.

High at the top of the tower, Joseph McCarthy looks down with satisfaction. The girl hangs limp over his shoulder and he whispers to her, "This is how I know God loves me. Not only has He granted me the opportunity to meet my destiny, fighting my father and brother to the death, but He has provided us with a spectacular backdrop befitting of such an unprecedented moment in human history. This is how I know God loves me, and I don't even believe in God."

---------------------------

The Butcher lies in a pool of his own offal, clinging to every second of life that remains in his twisted body. Framed by dozens of carcasses, he wonders why God abandoned him. What had he done wrong? How had he lost God's favor? First he feels confusion, then loneliness. For so many years he had filled the emptiness in his soul with slaughter, even before the world ended. Really, it was all he had ever known how to do. But, suddenly, this tower appeared out of nowhere and he had felt ... whole again. He had a new mission, one that required his skills, skills that had been honed by God's holy judgment upon America. It all made sense. But he was empty all over again. He wasn't good enough.

Loneliness became anger. But why wasn't he good enough? He had trudged through a meaningless existence for so many fucking years. Didn't he deserve the power, the infamy, that he gained? He had been so good for so long. No matter how disrespected he was by everyone around him, he hadn't committed any ill deeds. No sin was in his heart. He was pure. Right? Then why did everything turn to shit? He didn't even believe in God, but how could you deny an obvious miracle? It was all a trick. Every day since his family died was a lie. A nightmare. But a good one.

Anger became desperation. He didn't want to die. It didn't have to be over. It doesn't have to end now. He could still feel his hands, if only he could move them. Get back to his feet. The pain was going away. "Please, God," he thinks, "let me stand." Just make all the lies and pain and hurt go away. Why can't God give him the strength to just get up?

Then he hears footsteps. Was the Black Judge back? No, this sound was different. Lighter. Calmer. The Black Judge ran as if in a hurry. This man had all the time in the world.

"You're pathetic," the man says. The Butcher's eyes begin to focus, but for some reason the sun is so bright now. So bright. Everything had turned white.

"God?"

"Yes," the man lets out a slight laugh, "Sure, you can call me that."

"Please, save me."

"That attitude ..." the man pauses. "It makes me sick."

"What?"

The Butcher can feel himself rising toward the light. He realizes that his faith had grown weak. Of course. He had held too much faith in himself and not enough in Him. What a stupid, pathetic mistake. But God forgives. The Butcher was going to heaven. He could feel it in his bones.
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Tue May 20, 2008 2:21 am)
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Post     Re: Conviction

The Rock reels back as he watches his left arm fly through the air. George Washington points his sabre at The Rock's throat and says with a vague smile, "This has been an entertaining diversion."

Lifting up his severed arm and placing it on the stump, The Rock watches as purple smoke seeps out and the wound heals. He stretches the arm briefly. "It's too late, Washington," The Rock points to the tower, "You failed to stop it." Like a blazing inferno, the tower shines brightly. The heat generated by the intense lights sets the zombies and humans who get too near on fire.

"I played my role perfectly, Dwayne," Washington says, sheathing his sword. "The one man who could alter your boss' insane plan is already inside that machine."

"That's impossible! What kind of man could make it through that gantlet alive?"

It is impossible, Washington thought to himself. Maybe with that kind of strength, the Black Judge could change the path of fate, even if only slightly. A slight change might be all it takes. It was the planet's only hope.

------------------------------

John Baines McGuinness charges up the stairway. That cursed arm burned, the pain excruciating. Its power had helped him win the fight with the Butcher, but he wondered at what cost. His entire body was fatigued and he probably would have passed out by now if it wasn't for the mission. Save the girl, stop McHarris.

Then he realizes he hadn't had the time to think about what he was doing. The Butcher had said McHarris wasn't here ... yet. How the hell would he know McHarris was even in the area? And who did Washington want him to save? Did he even know any women who would be in a place like this?

"Jesus ass-fucking Christ."

It all suddenly made sense.

------------------------------

Archibald Orwellington, the Secret Prime Minister of Great Britain, steps through the gaping hole in the side of the tower. He briefly laments the unsightly damage to the structure before noticing the remains of the bloodbath that had ended only minutes ago.

"Oh bollocks. I stepped in something."

It couldn't be helped. He gingerly walks between the bodies and then halts in front of the corpse of the Butcher. The poor bastard didn't know what he was in for. The Secret Prime Minister notices something off and kneels in front of the torso. The Butcher's eyes were wide and his neck was ... broken. Orwellington wasn't sure if this was good or bad. All he could do now was shrug and ascend the staircase to the event's finale.

-----------------------------

McCarthy taps his foot impatiently against the roof of the tower. He was normally so patient, if a little excitable. But this was something he had waited his whole life for. He was nervous for the first time in his life. Exhaling deeply, McCarthy turns to watch the orgy of murder below him.

"A few more minutes can't hurt," he reassures himself.

"Believe me, you son of a bitch" John Baines answers, "These next few minutes are going to hurt a lot."
My Head Hurts 90
Joined: 19 Jan 2007
Posts: 3445
(Tue May 20, 2008 1:12 pm)
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Post     Re: Conviction

Fucking awesome.

The never ending zombie battle was a nice touch.
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Wed May 21, 2008 1:01 am)
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Post     Re: Conviction

"Excellent, brother!" Joseph Bruce McCarthy shouts with genuine enthusiasm. "But we can't start yet, not until our father arrives."

John Baines McGuinness rips off his shirt. "I'm going to kill you and then I'm going to kill him."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," McCarthy scolds and then picks the girl up by her throat. "You wouldn't want me to hurt the empress, would you?" He holds her unconscious body over the ledge and smirks.

"Gigi!"

"Then I believe we have a deal." McCarthy shakes Gigi and her limbs shake around limply. "I'm glad we finally see eye-to-eye. Ever since our last battle ended prematurely, I've been thinking. We should have never been fighting each other. It's ridiculous, especially since we both have the same goal. Killing our father is our birthright! We can settle whatever moral differences we have later."

"You dick-fucking bastard," John says through grit teeth, "what was the purpose in dragging all of these innocent people into our fight?"

McCarthy looks confused for a moment. "You mean all of this around us? I had nothing to do with it, but it's a perfect backdrop. I almost wish I had set it all up like this. It was obvious you were going to look for McHarris and it was rumored he was in Florida, so here we are. Besides, this is the inevitable fate of humanity, to suffer and die pointlessly. Even the most 'noble' death is meaningless since this universe will eventually end and all that will remain is dust."

"I don't believe in fate," John spits out, his fury boiling, "just in stopping monsters like you."

"You're a fucking fool, John," McCarthy points straight at John's face, "Our destiny is to murder every single person we can for no other reason than our own pleasure. It's the only thing that makes a McHarris feel alive! The anticipation, the thrill of killing! You cannot deny what's coded into your very DNA. Embrace it, cherish it. Next, we kill the most dangerous prey of all. Doesn't that excite you? Doesn't that make your blood boil in anticipation? Can't you feel it?"

Lowering his head, John goes silent. For several seconds he thinks. "No. I'm not a McHarris, no matter what my blood says. I was raised to know right from wrong, not to be a blood-thirsty animal. Killing isn't something I do for sport, but it's the only way to bring sanity to this sick world. Maybe the nature I inherited from McHarris makes me good at what I must do, but I find no pleasure in it."

"You're a liar, John," McCarthy angrily yells. "Don't give me that self-righteous bullshit! You can't escape the destiny that lies within you! Give in to it! Feed it! Free your-"

He's cut off as a black blur leaps up the side of the tower and snatches Gigi from his grip. The blur lands next to John and looks up with a smile. "Don't let that motherfucker distract you with trifles, John. Finish him off, I'll take the big fella."

John smiles back at Prometheus Jones. It doesn't matter how he survived, it was one familiar face he was happy to see. But-

"The big fella? Who are you talking about?"

The sound of titanic knuckles cracking fills the air, drowning out the frenzy of violence below. Looking back, John sees the one thing he had been hoping for and fearing all these long years.

"McHarris ..."
Roy
Joined: 28 Jan 2007
Posts: 1605
(Wed May 28, 2008 11:34 am)
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Post     Re: Conviction

Well, they're fucked.
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Fri May 30, 2008 11:25 pm)
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Post     Re: Conviction

Four months ago ...

A boat representing the Earth's Special Defense Force patrols the waters outside of America. Three sailors lazily look out, expecting nothing to appear, as it had been for over two years. The vessel's captain, Steve Taylor, had transferred into the navy of Theldorrin's world government from the British Royal Navy after witnessing the impossible total defeat of America. It had inspired him, but the reality of world peace wasn't quite as exciting. He couldn't remember the last time he heard a gunshot. The wall around America was so thick that the sound of whatever unfathomable orgy of murder was occurring inside couldn't be heard on the outside. He wondered what the point of it all was.

"Sir, I think I see something coming this way!" a sailor shouts. The young kid was new and his youthful exuberance was obvious. Sometimes, it cheered Taylor up through the long, boring tours up and down the Atlantic. This time, Taylor had a reason to get excited.

"Richards, shine the spotlight on them," Taylor commanded, "Goering, ready your weapon."

The ship creeped toward them. The engine was off. The only light coming from it was reflected from the spotlight. The boy, Richards, reached to turn the spotlight off, but Taylor whispered, "Wait." Fifteen minutes pass, the ship completely devoid of signs of life.

Captain Taylor raises a megaphone to his lips, "If there is anyone aboard the ship, come out with your hands up. If we see weapons, we, under the authority of the world government, have orders to shoot on sight. This is your only warning."

Still nothing moves. Feeling foolish, Taylor drops the megaphone and tells his men, "False alarm, but we should still destroy the boat just in case. Goering, get the incendiary grenades. We're going to burn it."

Goering descends into the hull, the sound of his boots hitting the steps echo loudly in the dead silence. Richards, the rookie, looks absolutely dejected. His first chance at action and nothing came of it. Taylor felt bad for him, but he had also gotten his hopes up. The sound of metal straining against extreme pressure breaks him out of the thought.

"Goering? Is that you?"

Dread suddenly fills his body. The noise wasn't coming from the inside of the boat. It couldn't have been Goering.

"Yes, captain?" comes an answer from inside the hull, followed by footsteps to the deck.

"Don't worry about the boat for now, just ready your weapon."

Goering looks confused for a moment, but when Taylor yells, "Just fucking do it!" he responds immediately, raising his rifle to his shoulder.

More creaking. It grated at Taylor's nerves. He had never seen real action, all he had was training. His vast experience in sitting on a carrier and ordering air strikes failed him in this situation. Hell, most of those were training exercises. And the creaking came more rapidly now.

Out of nowhere, a body flips into the air, landing feet first on the back of Goering's head, which pops like an overripe melon upon impact with the deck's surface. A shard of Goering's skull buries itself in Richards' chest and the boy screams in pain. A kick to Richards' groin rips him in half vertically. By the time Taylor had drawn his side arm, they were both dead.

Aiming his handgun, Captain Taylor notices the man has no arms. The moment of hesitation was all that monster needed as he rushed Taylor and dug his teeth into Taylor's face. A quick pull tore the skin from the skull. Taylor watched the grinning maniac spit his face into the ocean. Somehow, through the intense pain, he maintained some kind of composure, taking step after step backward. He didn't know what else to do until he reached the end, falling over the railing. Before he hit the water, he saw the teeth marks in the hull. Then he blacked out, never to wake up.

"I need to get it," McHarris says to himself. "But I need arms first. It's completely pointless without arms." Sitting back, he steers the boat to America with his feet.
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Fri Jun 06, 2008 3:20 am)
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Post     Re: Conviction

McHarris stands outside the door in a human skin loin cloth, covered from head to toe in blood. "Well," he says, "who wants to get fucking murdered first?"

A second passes as a strong wind blows the loin cloth aside to show McHarris' giant fucking balls. Prometheus Jones stands up and raises his fists. "Let's do this, you motherfucker."

McHarris raises an eyebrow, laughs and then casually backhands Jones, sending him flying into the wall surrounding the rooftop. "Sit down, old man." McHarris walks toward McGuinness and McCarthy. "I was talking to these two cocksuckers."

John growls and starts to lunge at McHarris, but McCarthy jams his shoulder into John's spine. As his brother falls, McCarthy grins, ready to take on his father's challenge. "I've been waiting my whole goddamn life for this. You really have no idea."

"You didn't have to wait for me if you wanted to die, boy." McHarris' muscles tense and his veins bulge through his skin. One in his forehead explodes, sending blood shooting directly into McCarthy's eyes. McHarris dashes and uppercuts his son into the air. "It's been years since I had a good fight, kid, don't disappoint me."

McCarthy backflips and lands on his feet, grabbing his jaw. "A McHarris never disappoints."

"Geh heh heh," James Brock forces a laugh, "Just 'cause I rammed my meat pole in your mom doesn't make you a McHarris. You don't have the scent of a McHarris. My old man, he would have tried killing me sooner if he knew I was going to squeeze a fag like you out of my sac."

Flying into a rage, McCarthy rushes toward his father, screaming. McHarris kicks him in the face like like a punted football. Picking the prone McCarthy off the floor by the collar, McHarris throws rapid punches until McCarthy's face is unrecognizable. Groaning in agony, McCarthy weakly smacks his open hand against McHarris' chest. McHarris grabs the fingers and bends them back until the bones break. "You little bitch."

Suddenly, ebony arms wrap around McHarris' massive throat, putting him into a sleeper hold. "I been wantin' this a long time," Prometheus says, "Every wrestler worth a damn wanted to fight you." Prometheus winces slightly as palms slap against his head and shoulders. "I always wanted to kill your ass. I knew as soon as I saw you that you were just a rabid animal. Didn't matter if you looked human, you was just a beast. A rabid beasts need to be put to sleep." In emphasis, Prometheus quickly twists his upper body and an audible snap fills the air. McHarris' hands stall in mid-strike and then fall to his sides. Prometheus, afraid to let go, keeps the sleeper hold for another five minutes, until John taps him on the back.

"You did it," he says with a twinge of regret, "He's dead."

"I know you wanted to do it, son," Prometheus drops McHarris' body to the ground, "But maybe it's for the best. If you went murderfuck against McHarris, I don't know if we'd ever get you back with your sanity."

The two turn toward the door and Gigi runs and hugs John. He lightly kisses her forehead and pats down her hair. "I'm so glad to see you again," she says, tears making the black makeup around her eyes streak down her cheeks. Prometheus smiles and walks ahead of them.

"I'm glad to see you, too," John says. "But why are you here?"

Gigi chokes up a little, "I heard rumors that Hard'rok was alive and living in Florida. I should have known it was a trap, but I felt pretty bad about the way I broke up with him. That was kind of shitty, I guess. Anyway, Chairbot detected a strong supernatural presence here. Chairbot and I had almost defeated the Butcher's men when a fog blew through and knocked us unconscious. I don't know what happened after that until I ended up here."

"A fog ..."

John looks over the edge of the roof and sees that the fog below has cleared, leaving only thousands of corpses for miles. What he doesn't see is McHarris sitting up.
Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Tue Jun 10, 2008 1:35 am)
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Post     Re: Conviction

"What the hell happened to the fog?"

"What do you mean?" Gigi asks.

"This isn't right," John says, "Something is going on here."

John looks over the edge trying to figure it all out. The overwhelming stench of death fills his lungs and it burns. All is quiet and still save for a few moans from the shambling zombies of the non-flying variety. They hobble around aimlessly, almost as confused as John is. And then there was the glowing of the tower. What did all of it mean, if it meant anything at all? It deeply troubled him, the prophecy of Washington haunting his thoughts.

His thinking is halted by a punch to the stomach that hunches him over in time to catch an elbow drop to the skull, smashing his face into the stone roof of the tower. A massive hand grabs him by the neck and lifts him eye-to-eye with James Brock McHarris. The monster of a man smirks with confidence.

"You should know better than to ever assume I'm dead," McHarris says with unsettling glee and then throws John down. Before John makes impact, a swift kick to the chest sends him spinning through the air. "I ain't gonna die until everyone else in this goddamn universe is nothing but blood on the bottom of my foot. You think you can stop me? I haven't even started."

John jumps to his feet and spears McHarris, but is ax-handled down again. Gigi conjures up a chair and hits McHarris from behind, but the chair just breaks against his back. Turning his head nearly all the way around to look at Gigi, he kicks backward and launches her over the edge of the tower. She falls, screaming, the sound spurring new fury in John's soul. He pushes himself up with his arms and flips, kicking McHarris in the face with both feet. McHarris staggers slightly but then throws a punch that John barely ducks under. He runs past McHarris and leaps off the tower, and plants his feet into its wall. With blinding speed, he sprints down the side, with each step striding closer to Gigi. He extends his hand out to Gigi, seeing the ground quickly rushing toward him and knowing he's out of time. And then Chairbot flies in, catching Gigi and speeding away. John is briefly relieved before smashing into the ground, unable to stop his momentum.

"I'M GONNA GET YOU, YA LITTLE FAGGOT!"

Diving face first, McHarris extends his arms like Superman. Suddenly, John feels his replaced arm come alive. It punches the ground, spinning his body upward and then clotheslines McHarris as his falls. McHarris hits the ground ass first and feels his spine telescope. He rolls to his chest and grabs his back, but stands up quickly.

"Good to see you're not already used up," McHarris pauses to dust off his loin cloth. "Folks have a bad habit of dying on me before I can get warmed up. Real disappointing sometimes. Maybe I'm getting a little nostalgic in my old age." He lifts up the front end of his loin cloth to polish the glass on his gold watch. "Well, fuck all that. Time to kill you."

McHarris becomes a blur but is stopped flat by a punch to the nose. The breaking of bone is audible. John looks at the fist on the end of his new arm. He can feel it burning.
Servbot
Overrated faggot
Joined: 20 Jan 2007
Posts: 9020
(Tue Jun 10, 2008 6:17 am)
Reply

Post     Re: Conviction

Murder.... Fuck.
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