Post by The Wonderful Wachter on Jun 21, 2011 17:32:38 GMT -5
Ultimate Spoilers #0
Never Had ‘im
Not too distant future
Blüdhaven was changing on an almost daily basis. Every rising sun brought with it a new day and a new criminal locked up. Every evening had the families and the gangs up in arms, fearing what was coming for them. Used to be every two bit criminal and pickpocket could walk the streets of the Haven or take a stroll down by the docks without having to worry about metal bars in their future.
Not anymore.
Terror had taken to the hearts in the Haven. A terror the criminal element had not recognized at first. How could they when as far as oldest minds up on top of the Hill remembered, the Families had ruled the streets uncontested? How could they be expected to know justice when they saw it?
Cops knew how take a bribe back in the glory days. Knew how to look the other way. Hell, the children of the Haven had grown up wanting to be police officers not because it was right and just but because it gave them power. Nice salary with backhand deals and free donuts. Never had to worry about solving crime when Cain’s Marks kept the city’s security at an appropriate level of births-to-death ratio.
Arnot should know, he used to be a cop until… Well, that’s a story he didn’t want to remember at the moment. Not with a beer at his side and a full house in his hand. Now he worked for David Cain. The only man in the city he trusted to protect him from Blockbuster’s forces.
The other three men sitting around the table belonged to The Mark Security too and though all three had various levels of seniority over him, he was the one truly in charge. And why shouldn’t he be in charge? Two of them were glorified babysitters with guns and the third was an idiot. He was the one who did actual work.
They were in Arnot’s home or more properly, they were in his backyard, in the storage shed he had converted for this very purpose. Reinforced walls, carpeted floor, an A/C in the wall to keep it from getting too stuffy and only one way in. All in all, a safe and secure place to hold their weekly poker game and any meeting he wanted to keep secret from the wife. It was a nice, proper mancave that all men – criminal or otherwise – deserved.
The former cop eyed one of the babysitters, Lyle something. Dixon he thought. Nondescript, just like the other, brown eyes and brown hair, medium build, dress him in anything and he wouldn’t look out of place; perfect for the Nanny Division. The lucky bastard had been on a winning streak for three weeks running. Something he looked to be doing tonight as well.
Lyle raised while the other nanny, Scott Puckett, simply called. With the big, dumb brute Conway folding, Arnot matched. The river and the former cop found himself safe in his mind. Nothing could beat his full house.
“I hear the McDevlins are heading for dirtier pastures,” stalled Lyle, thinking himself witty.
“Vigilante or –“
“It’s The Spoiler.” Puckett answered abrasively.
A snort of derision rocked MacArnot back in his seat. The three pantywaists before him had an irrational fear of the absurdly named Spoiler. Well, maybe it wasn’t so absurd to them seeing how they had their asses kicked at one point or another by the hero. “What’d the purple cloaked freak do?”
“Screwed with their dynamics. Revealed who was sleeping with whose wife, who was the actual father of their various brats, and in one case,” at this Puckett smiled, “told who had actually married a post-op patient.”
“Glorified spy, that’s what he is.”
Lyle looked bemused as he checked. “I don’t think it’s guy. Don’t know about you two but I noticed a nice pair of breasts right before I was knocked senseless. Big ones too from the feel,” he was quick to add at the end.
“No woman could have taken down the Shrike like that.” Arnot had been at the mysterious assassin’s mercy in the past and knew from experience nothing short of an army could have taken him down.
“What kind of man wears purple?”
“Prince?”
Three of the men broke down laughing. The forth looked more thoughtful than the amount of braincells he had could attest to. “Flamingo wears pink.”
“Flamingo is a goddamn myth.”
“If you say so.”
“I do and since it’s my table and my beer you’re drinking, my word is law.”
That shut Conway up long enough for MacArnot to take the pot and start dealing for a new hand. Insulted and feeling smaller than his giant size made him, the big man’s eyes flickered as he tried to think up something to say so he could regain an ounce of respect. Cards dealt, the former cop grinned at the two queens in his hand and the other two on the flop. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought he stacked the deck while the others were distracted with their drinks.
“I ever tell you guys I almost had the Spoiler once?” Conway spoke slowly and just as slowly doublechecked the chips he pushed towards the center of the table.
MacArnot didn’t care but the other two looked interested. “Oh? Do tell.”
“Yeah. It was late and I had gone outside to take a piss and there he was, crouching as you please on a roof. Think he was watching a deal go down.”
“So did you shoot him before or after you put your dick away?”
“Well, it was after cause I wanted to make sure I took him on with an empty bladder. Didn’t want to get it all over myself if he survived and came after me.”
“Uh huh.” Only Conway this round. The other two had folded. He should probably have folded too but was obviously distracted by the story he was telling.
Big man kept matching the bets and talking. “So once I drained the lizard and flicked it a few times, I threw a rock at him.”
There was a completely understandable stunned silence at this. The three men glared with various levels of disbelief stretching their features. Meanwhile, Conway had a cocky grin on his face, thinking himself impressive now that his story was finished.
“You… You threw a rock at him?” Arnot was the first to break the silence and he spoke for the other two aptly.
“Yeah.”
“Why the hell didn’t you shoot the bastard!?”
Conway finally had the sense to look sheepish. “I forgot it in the car.” Noticing the stares, he tripped over his tongue as he tried to explain himself. “Well, uh, you, uh you see. It was a big rock,” like big made a difference when compared to a bullet, “and I figures if I hit him, he’d fall back off the roof and die or break his back or something and I could finish him off.”
“And did he fall off the roof and break something?”
“No, uh, I missed.”
Arnot laughed too hard to realize he had won the hand again. The other two were in similar shape. Lyle had even fallen back into the wall, tears streaming from his eyes. It was just too much to take.
“Jesus, Con,” Puckett grinned from ear to ear, “that’s dumber than the time you said the Spoiler is an army of robots purchased by some billionaire from KnightCorp to clean up Blüdhaven.”
“I said Kord Electronics, not KnightCorp.”
“They make phones, not –“
“He might be brighter than you think,” a synthetic voice interrupted. “I think the robot theory has merit.”
Four brains rattled about four heads as they spun to see a cloaked figure leaning against a locked door. They couldn’t comprehend the scenario, the how the figure invaded their privacy without them noticing long enough for it to overhear them. The consideration was a fraction of a second too long before their hands went to their guns and the lights went off.
Arnot unconsciously backed his chair up and tipped it over to save himself. He just knew one of the fools would be dumb enough to fire their gun in… The ringing in his ears and the flash of a muzzle confirmed his fears an instant later. His lips moved in a wordless prayer as he covered his head.
Above him were the noises of a one-sided struggle. Noises he couldn’t make out through his loss of hearing. The sickening sound of fist meeting flesh, the crash of a table, the shaking of the shed; singlehandedly, the Spoiler was taking down three killers. A dull thud vibrated the small room, reminiscent of a head butting the wall, and the fight was over. The Marks never stood a chance.
For his part, Arnot groaned in agony. The thud he never heard but the earthquake he felt had turned out to be the giant Conway. The poor dumb fool had the lucky fortune to collapse atop of the former cop, achieving a sort of revenge at the insults.
Now, Arnot was not a small man nor was he large one. He was best described as the pretty boy back on the force with wavy reddish brown hair and a build meant more for self-preening than lifting. Arrogant he was called but he was smart. And he was a survivor. So when it all quieted down, he didn’t bother trying to get out from beneath Conway.
Then when a light cackled on, he knew to squeeze his eyes shut. Best to feign unconsciousness. Best to live another day and hope he found David Cain more forgiving than Blockbuster.
An insistent poking of his nose by a gloved finger made the act more difficult than first thought. The face of his death stared back at him. Light, cackling light of a glowing hand, highlighted the eyes of a ghost. A ghost with no face. Just eyes. Eyes.
“Please don’t kill me, don’t kill me, don’t kill me, I don’t want to die,” he begged, starting to sob, “I don’t want to end up like the Shrike. Don’t kill me. I got a wife.”
A finger flicked his nose. “Calm down. I just want to talk.”
“Okay.”
“You calm?”
“Nooooo.”
A touch of annoyance entered the artificial voice. “Are you at least done soiling yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Good enough.” The eyes twisted up in a smile. A threatening yet mirthful smile. How could they do that? “I have a very simple question for you, Former Inspector Arnot.”
“Okay.”
“Where is it?”
“It?”
“You know—“
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
The eyes were still smiling but nevertheless, Arnot felt a subtle shifting in the air. He noticed for the first time what seemed to make the hand glow. A racing of electrical energy traveled its length. Traveled right down to the tip of the finger slowly coming towards his face.
“It’s under the table!” he cried. “Secret hatch beneath the carpet. Code one eight six nine.”
“Thank you, Former Inspector.”
Arnot didn’t know if what the Spoiler would find was what he wanted and he didn’t care. Didn’t matter to him anymore if someone learned of the flashdrive with all the reports he had falsified on the Force. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want that electrical finger to pop out his eye. Never crossed his mind that the others drives were of far more importance to the vigilante.
“What are you?” He gasped, thinking maybe the robot thing was true.
“That would be a spoiler.”
The hand came down, stunning him into blackness.
Eight minutes later, Arnot and the other men woke to the sound of his wife banging on the shed door. The still locked door. The Spoiler had come and gone, leaving behind no trace but a few bruises and a hand shaped burn mark across the former cop’s face.
Never Had ‘im
Not too distant future
Blüdhaven was changing on an almost daily basis. Every rising sun brought with it a new day and a new criminal locked up. Every evening had the families and the gangs up in arms, fearing what was coming for them. Used to be every two bit criminal and pickpocket could walk the streets of the Haven or take a stroll down by the docks without having to worry about metal bars in their future.
Not anymore.
Terror had taken to the hearts in the Haven. A terror the criminal element had not recognized at first. How could they when as far as oldest minds up on top of the Hill remembered, the Families had ruled the streets uncontested? How could they be expected to know justice when they saw it?
Cops knew how take a bribe back in the glory days. Knew how to look the other way. Hell, the children of the Haven had grown up wanting to be police officers not because it was right and just but because it gave them power. Nice salary with backhand deals and free donuts. Never had to worry about solving crime when Cain’s Marks kept the city’s security at an appropriate level of births-to-death ratio.
Arnot should know, he used to be a cop until… Well, that’s a story he didn’t want to remember at the moment. Not with a beer at his side and a full house in his hand. Now he worked for David Cain. The only man in the city he trusted to protect him from Blockbuster’s forces.
The other three men sitting around the table belonged to The Mark Security too and though all three had various levels of seniority over him, he was the one truly in charge. And why shouldn’t he be in charge? Two of them were glorified babysitters with guns and the third was an idiot. He was the one who did actual work.
They were in Arnot’s home or more properly, they were in his backyard, in the storage shed he had converted for this very purpose. Reinforced walls, carpeted floor, an A/C in the wall to keep it from getting too stuffy and only one way in. All in all, a safe and secure place to hold their weekly poker game and any meeting he wanted to keep secret from the wife. It was a nice, proper mancave that all men – criminal or otherwise – deserved.
The former cop eyed one of the babysitters, Lyle something. Dixon he thought. Nondescript, just like the other, brown eyes and brown hair, medium build, dress him in anything and he wouldn’t look out of place; perfect for the Nanny Division. The lucky bastard had been on a winning streak for three weeks running. Something he looked to be doing tonight as well.
Lyle raised while the other nanny, Scott Puckett, simply called. With the big, dumb brute Conway folding, Arnot matched. The river and the former cop found himself safe in his mind. Nothing could beat his full house.
“I hear the McDevlins are heading for dirtier pastures,” stalled Lyle, thinking himself witty.
“Vigilante or –“
“It’s The Spoiler.” Puckett answered abrasively.
A snort of derision rocked MacArnot back in his seat. The three pantywaists before him had an irrational fear of the absurdly named Spoiler. Well, maybe it wasn’t so absurd to them seeing how they had their asses kicked at one point or another by the hero. “What’d the purple cloaked freak do?”
“Screwed with their dynamics. Revealed who was sleeping with whose wife, who was the actual father of their various brats, and in one case,” at this Puckett smiled, “told who had actually married a post-op patient.”
“Glorified spy, that’s what he is.”
Lyle looked bemused as he checked. “I don’t think it’s guy. Don’t know about you two but I noticed a nice pair of breasts right before I was knocked senseless. Big ones too from the feel,” he was quick to add at the end.
“No woman could have taken down the Shrike like that.” Arnot had been at the mysterious assassin’s mercy in the past and knew from experience nothing short of an army could have taken him down.
“What kind of man wears purple?”
“Prince?”
Three of the men broke down laughing. The forth looked more thoughtful than the amount of braincells he had could attest to. “Flamingo wears pink.”
“Flamingo is a goddamn myth.”
“If you say so.”
“I do and since it’s my table and my beer you’re drinking, my word is law.”
That shut Conway up long enough for MacArnot to take the pot and start dealing for a new hand. Insulted and feeling smaller than his giant size made him, the big man’s eyes flickered as he tried to think up something to say so he could regain an ounce of respect. Cards dealt, the former cop grinned at the two queens in his hand and the other two on the flop. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought he stacked the deck while the others were distracted with their drinks.
“I ever tell you guys I almost had the Spoiler once?” Conway spoke slowly and just as slowly doublechecked the chips he pushed towards the center of the table.
MacArnot didn’t care but the other two looked interested. “Oh? Do tell.”
“Yeah. It was late and I had gone outside to take a piss and there he was, crouching as you please on a roof. Think he was watching a deal go down.”
“So did you shoot him before or after you put your dick away?”
“Well, it was after cause I wanted to make sure I took him on with an empty bladder. Didn’t want to get it all over myself if he survived and came after me.”
“Uh huh.” Only Conway this round. The other two had folded. He should probably have folded too but was obviously distracted by the story he was telling.
Big man kept matching the bets and talking. “So once I drained the lizard and flicked it a few times, I threw a rock at him.”
There was a completely understandable stunned silence at this. The three men glared with various levels of disbelief stretching their features. Meanwhile, Conway had a cocky grin on his face, thinking himself impressive now that his story was finished.
“You… You threw a rock at him?” Arnot was the first to break the silence and he spoke for the other two aptly.
“Yeah.”
“Why the hell didn’t you shoot the bastard!?”
Conway finally had the sense to look sheepish. “I forgot it in the car.” Noticing the stares, he tripped over his tongue as he tried to explain himself. “Well, uh, you, uh you see. It was a big rock,” like big made a difference when compared to a bullet, “and I figures if I hit him, he’d fall back off the roof and die or break his back or something and I could finish him off.”
“And did he fall off the roof and break something?”
“No, uh, I missed.”
Arnot laughed too hard to realize he had won the hand again. The other two were in similar shape. Lyle had even fallen back into the wall, tears streaming from his eyes. It was just too much to take.
“Jesus, Con,” Puckett grinned from ear to ear, “that’s dumber than the time you said the Spoiler is an army of robots purchased by some billionaire from KnightCorp to clean up Blüdhaven.”
“I said Kord Electronics, not KnightCorp.”
“They make phones, not –“
“He might be brighter than you think,” a synthetic voice interrupted. “I think the robot theory has merit.”
Four brains rattled about four heads as they spun to see a cloaked figure leaning against a locked door. They couldn’t comprehend the scenario, the how the figure invaded their privacy without them noticing long enough for it to overhear them. The consideration was a fraction of a second too long before their hands went to their guns and the lights went off.
Arnot unconsciously backed his chair up and tipped it over to save himself. He just knew one of the fools would be dumb enough to fire their gun in… The ringing in his ears and the flash of a muzzle confirmed his fears an instant later. His lips moved in a wordless prayer as he covered his head.
Above him were the noises of a one-sided struggle. Noises he couldn’t make out through his loss of hearing. The sickening sound of fist meeting flesh, the crash of a table, the shaking of the shed; singlehandedly, the Spoiler was taking down three killers. A dull thud vibrated the small room, reminiscent of a head butting the wall, and the fight was over. The Marks never stood a chance.
For his part, Arnot groaned in agony. The thud he never heard but the earthquake he felt had turned out to be the giant Conway. The poor dumb fool had the lucky fortune to collapse atop of the former cop, achieving a sort of revenge at the insults.
Now, Arnot was not a small man nor was he large one. He was best described as the pretty boy back on the force with wavy reddish brown hair and a build meant more for self-preening than lifting. Arrogant he was called but he was smart. And he was a survivor. So when it all quieted down, he didn’t bother trying to get out from beneath Conway.
Then when a light cackled on, he knew to squeeze his eyes shut. Best to feign unconsciousness. Best to live another day and hope he found David Cain more forgiving than Blockbuster.
An insistent poking of his nose by a gloved finger made the act more difficult than first thought. The face of his death stared back at him. Light, cackling light of a glowing hand, highlighted the eyes of a ghost. A ghost with no face. Just eyes. Eyes.
“Please don’t kill me, don’t kill me, don’t kill me, I don’t want to die,” he begged, starting to sob, “I don’t want to end up like the Shrike. Don’t kill me. I got a wife.”
A finger flicked his nose. “Calm down. I just want to talk.”
“Okay.”
“You calm?”
“Nooooo.”
A touch of annoyance entered the artificial voice. “Are you at least done soiling yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Good enough.” The eyes twisted up in a smile. A threatening yet mirthful smile. How could they do that? “I have a very simple question for you, Former Inspector Arnot.”
“Okay.”
“Where is it?”
“It?”
“You know—“
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
The eyes were still smiling but nevertheless, Arnot felt a subtle shifting in the air. He noticed for the first time what seemed to make the hand glow. A racing of electrical energy traveled its length. Traveled right down to the tip of the finger slowly coming towards his face.
“It’s under the table!” he cried. “Secret hatch beneath the carpet. Code one eight six nine.”
“Thank you, Former Inspector.”
Arnot didn’t know if what the Spoiler would find was what he wanted and he didn’t care. Didn’t matter to him anymore if someone learned of the flashdrive with all the reports he had falsified on the Force. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want that electrical finger to pop out his eye. Never crossed his mind that the others drives were of far more importance to the vigilante.
“What are you?” He gasped, thinking maybe the robot thing was true.
“That would be a spoiler.”
The hand came down, stunning him into blackness.
Eight minutes later, Arnot and the other men woke to the sound of his wife banging on the shed door. The still locked door. The Spoiler had come and gone, leaving behind no trace but a few bruises and a hand shaped burn mark across the former cop’s face.