Okay, folks! Geth asked me to do the voting thread, so here we go:
This time around, it was "Crime Time! (Time Crime?)," where we had to write a story about a crime taking place in any time period (including the present). We've got seven entries this time around. I want to test Wildvine's idea for a shorter voting period, and see what everyone thinks. So I'm going to say eight days for voting- That means you can read an entry a day and vote on the eighth day, if that's what you want to do. Drum up your voters, and let's get cracking.
|Johnjo719: Big Rich and Youngin'|
Big Rich and Youngin'
The block was doing well today. That is, there was an exceedingly good amount of customers coming to purchase illicit substances today. Rich "Youngin" Stiles was having a good day in particular. He was only selling trees but, he had the best product on the block that day and the streets were loving it.
"Yo, what it do Youngin?" Big Rich greeted his friend. As you might be able to guess, Big Rich was a pretty sizable guy. Weighing in at 6'7 and 250 pounds, he was bigger than your average guy.
Big Rich was one of Youngin's bosses on the block, but he always treated those under him as if they were friends. That's not to say he wouldn't murder them or have them murdered if they crossed him. Just that he'd do it with a friendly seeming smile as he slid the knife into your back. Anyway, Big Rich and Youngin were actually friends as it were. Had been for as long as the other could remember.
"Ain't nun. Just out here trying to get a couple dollars." Youngin replied. He wasn't as far up in the food chain as Big Rich, but that was by choice. He'd never wanted to be involved in the street life. It had just sort of snuck up on him.
"That's what's up." Big Rich nodded. "Listen, bro, I'm going to need a favor from you."
"What's up?" Youngin asked. He was wary of such statements coming from the higher ups. It usually meant they were about to ask him to do something he wouldn't want to do.
"I'm going to need you to take ride with us." Big Rich said as he gestured to two men standing a distance away, clearly waiting for Rich. "And don't worry about your spot. One of the lil homies can take care of that for you."
"I don't know bro." Youngin said. He knew exactly what it would mean to take that ride. There could really be only one thing they were getting ready to do. "You know I've never done anything like that."
"Anything like what? We're just going for a ride. I have some things I'd like to discuss with you." Rich explained. "Let's go."
Youngin sighed. He recognized that tone in his friend's voice and he knew what it meant. He motioned to one of the younger guys hanging around and the kid came running. Youngin took the remaining trees he had on him and handed it over to the young man.
"Make sure you take care of this, lil homie. I'll be right back." Youngin demanded.
"Say no more! I got you." The kid responded confidently. Youngin simply turned and walked with Rich to the black four door sedan that was waiting for them. The four men, Big Rich, Youngin, and now that Youngin was closer he could see the other two men were neighborhood heavies called Mikey O and Boomer, all piled into the mid sized vehicle and pulled off.
"So me and the guys have been talking." Big Rich started. The guys being the men who ran the neighborhood. "And we've all noticed how well you've been doing. You're one of our top earners. And the way you handled that situation with the cop and his sister....."
"Well that was just a case of money talking louder than bullets." Youngin interjected. "Nothing special."
"Nothing special, but it saved us a whole lot of unnecessary trouble. And things like that are noticed." Big Rich said as he drove. "We want you to move up in the organization Youngin, but there's one small problem."
"What problem is that?" Youngin asked, dreading the answer.
"You've made us a whole lot of money, and done a whole lot of other things for us. But there's nothing yet to fully prove your undying loyalty to us." Big Rich said. "That, and there are only limited spots right now in upper management. In order to promote you, someone has to be fired. You get me?"
Youngin nodded his head. He didn't reply, instead he turned to look at his city as he drove through it. Then the gravity of the situation he was in hit him. "You want me to prove my loyalty to you guys by taking someone out? One of the big homies." Youngin stated simply. Big Rich nodded.
"So, what does that say about you guys? How can I be loyal to an organization that may one day have me killed to make room for some young upstart?" Youngin asked.
Big Rich burst out laughing. "See? This is why we need you. You're smart. This guy...he's a rat. An informer. A snitch. A couple weeks ago he got arrested with a life sentence's worth of bobaine on him, and yet he's here. As if nothing happened." Rich Explained.
"And that alone is enough to seal his fate?" Youngin asked.
"Nah. The fact that Pretty Boy got arrested right after a drop this rat had set up is enough to seal his fate." Rich revealed. This news shocked Youngin. Pretty Boy was their mentor. The guy who'd introduced them to the life basically.
"Damn. Pretty Boy is locked up? What are they saying?" Asked Youngin.
"Not a damn thing. But I doubt we'll be seeing him anytime soon. This is why we need to do what we came here to do." Rich said firmly. Youngin checked his surroundings and realized he was in a different housing project than he he grew up in. This one looked even worse.
"Wait. This is Ricky's hood!" Youngin exclaimed.
"Yea. It is." Rich said through clenched teeth.
"Holy.....no....are you saying....are you saying that Pretty Boy's own brother snitched on him?" Youngin asked.
"That's exactly what we're saying. And don't worry about Pretty Boy. He's the one that asked for the removal." Rich said in a reassuring tone.
Youngin was floored. Big Rich turned around to face the two men in the back and they handed him a bag. In it were two silenced pistols, some gloves, and extra ammo.
"These two gentlemen here will handle the cleanup. You and I are going up there" Big Rich pointed to the top floor of the apartment building. "And we will take him out. I'm only here to supervise though, however. You're the one who's been tapped to finish him." Big Rich revealed.
Youngin swallowed and nodded his head numbly. The duo put their guns on, check the safety, and the put the gloves on. When they were ready, the two men exited the vehicle and head towards the apartment complex. Fortunately the building has an elevator, so the two men get on and ride into the top. The ride was silent the whole way. Killing Ricky was going to be like shooting your favorite uncle, and Youngin already had a funeral in progress.
The two men step off the elevator and head towards the room they want, lead by Big Rich. Rich knocks on the door, and almost immediately a voice On the other side of the door asked for a second.
When the door opened, it was all smiles. Ricky let them in. He was wearing a purple robe and it was evident that he was naked underneath it. Youngin couldn't help but wonder if it would make the cleanup easier or harder. Youngin looked away from Ricky and his incessant cheerfulness.
"Hey, so to what do I owe the pleasure?" Ricky asked finally. After talking about nothing for about five minutes. That's when Rich took action. He leapt forward and clocked Ricky in the face. Ricky hit the floor like a bag of bricks.
"What the friggity frak?! What the hell do you think you guys are doing?" Ricky screamed.
"Your brother sends his regards from prison, rat." Rich said coldly. The blood drained from Ricky's face.
"What...what are you talking about?" Ricky stammered. "I'm no rat!"
"You're a liar." Rich said calmly. "But the judgement has already been made. We are just here to make sure it's enforced."
Rich turned to face Youngin. "Take out your gun." Youngin hesitated, but he did as he was instructed.
"Now. Aim at his head. That gun is loaded with hollow point bullets. A couple shots to the head should more than do the trick." Rich said, speaking from experience. Slowly, Youngin pointed his weapon at Ricky, who was still on the floor, looking up at his two assailants.
"Now do it." Rich ordered. Youngin only stood there. He thought about the night he met Ricky. He'd literally saved his night that night. If it wasn't for Ricky, That night would have been Youngin's last.
Seeing that Youngin was hesitating, Rich decided to give him some motivation. He removed his own weapon and then pointed it at Youngin. "It's him or you bro. You gotta decide."
Youngin could feel a single tear sliding down his face. He took a deep breathe and then he pulled the trigger.
|ImpurestCheese: A Ukranian in Mexico|
A Ukrainian in Mexico
Safehouse, Villa Ahumunda, Mexico
A shot sounded as the gang of men stormed the building on the other side of the plaza, before emerging a few minutes later dragging a young couple onto the street. The man was slung into the bed of a pick-up truck, the majority of the invaders jumping on as it pulled away leaving two men alone with the young woman. The first beat her with the pistol he was holding, as his comrade pulled down his pants, before falling forward, a ragged hole drilled through his chest. Spinning round the remaining gunman spent a few long seconds looking for the shooter before being felled by a bullet himself.
“That was stupid Senora Sedova.” The Hispanic man sitting on the bed, dressed in a T-Shirt and jeans snorted as the blonde haired woman dressed in urban camo trousers and ballistic vest closed the window and stood the FN FAL against the wall. “She is El Aquila just like I was, she will send her hermanos to investigate.”
“Maybe you should have thought about that before you decided to ask for amnesty from the US Government Jose. And maybe you should have asked last time you were in the States.” Sedova announced, her accent tinged with a Ukrainian accent, as she checked the clock on the table. “The Federal Police escort the ambassador negotiated is late.” She mused, as she removed a pair of handguns from her holsters and checked the ammunition levels. “We may have to move to the secondary extraction plan if they don’t show.”
“It is amusing how you gringos rely on the police for your safety.” Jose sneered as he shot a look at the FAL in the next room. “They can be bought just like anyone else.” He added, as Sedova removed a pair of water bottles from the small fridge and placed them in a rucksack. Packing more supplies the sound of sirens began to grow louder until a pair of police cars tore into the square followed by a pick-up truck full of armed men dressed in street clothes, an eagle painted on the flanks of the vehicle.
“These aren’t federal units.” Sedova sighed, as four officers got out of the car, their handguns drawn and at the ready whilst the men from the truck headed round the back of the building. “They are municipal police.” She added, as she threw a towel over the FAL and walked to the door, just as heavy fists pounded on the door. Opening it, Sedova shot the officers a smile. “Can I help you officers?” She asked in Spanish.
“You are under arrest on suspicion of murder Senora.” The lead officer stated, as he pushed Sedova back to allow his men into the room. “Place your hands on the wall.” He ordered, as two officers dragged Jose out of the bedroom and pushed him to the floor. “You Senor are a very popular man with El Aquila, he requests that you speak to him about the theft of some data about his operations.” He added, as Sedova tapped her foot on the floor, an explosion of light and sound erupted from the tiles. Whirling around Sedova slammed the Captain in the gut, before tackling the officer in the door way and wrenching his pistol away. As the light faded the two officers guarding Jose opened fire although the flashbang grenades detonation had thrown off their arm. Retuning fire Sedova shot both officers in the arm, the pain shooting through them causing them to drop their guns.
“I told you.” Jose hissed, as Sedova holstered her pistol and picked up the FAL before shouldering the rucksack.
“Just get ready to move.” Sedova ordered, as she headed down the steps into the building’s basement, Jose hot on her heels as the pair of them arrived in the garage. Moving to open the door Sedova stopped as she heard banging on the garage door. “Your hermanos?” She asked Jose, as he crouched behind some boxes. Not waiting for an answer she flipped an IR sensor connected to the FAL open, the pad showing six men standing on the other side of the door. Rolling her eyes Sedova opened fire, the bullets chewing through the flimsy wooden garage door into the men outside. Pushing the door open Sedova scanned the area before removing the ammunition from her FAL and tossed the gun away.
“What are you doing?” Jose asked, as Sedova pulled an MP7 Machine Pistol from her bag and headed out into the side street. “Why did you throw it away?”
“It’s a little obvious even for this lawless town.” Sedova answered, as Jose chased after her, the pair of them arriving in a street lined with shops, restaurants and garages. “I have a vehicle rented from El Paso stored in a local garage.” She added, as the pair of them mingled with the crowd of shoppers going about their business in the late afternoon. Crossing the street, the pair of them entered one of the roadside garages filled with vehicles, mechanics working on them. “Senor where is the car I left here?” She asked the nearest worker.
“I will get the keys and bring it round front Senorita.” The mechanic stated, as he put down the welding torch he was using, and headed into the office.
“You are a fool gringo, this isn’t a garage it’s a chop-shop.” Jose whispered as he made sure his arms were covered. “Do you not see the tattoos on these men, they are part of El Tarantula, the enemies to El Aquilla.”
“El Tarantula, you mean they work for Boccanegra?” Sedova asked as a pair of blacked-out Cadillacs pulled up on the other side of the street. Looking up at the office, she saw the mechanic talking to a man dressed in a suit, the second man handing him an old fashioned bolt-action rifle. “Head through the shop, stay low and keep your head down.” She ordered, as she pulled the MP7 out of her holster and opened fire up at the office, buying time for Jose to dash towards the back of the garage. Heading for the back of the garage herself, Sedova fired one last burst as a few of the mechanics drew their pistols and returned fire just as the men from over the road got out of their cars and came running.
Emerging from the chop-shop, Sedova and Jose emerged in a junkyard pull of car-parts waiting to be sold or scrapped. “What made you think you could trust those men?” Jose snapped, as the pair of them weaved through the piles of junk and rusting sheet metal towards the chain-link fence on the far side of the compound.
“Gutierrez my contact in the Federal Police recommended them. Between that and their website I felt almost secure leaving the car there, almost.” She added, as they reached the fence and the locked gate. “There are wire cutters in the pack, make a hole while I buy us some time.” She ordered, as she replaced the ammo clip in her MP7 and pulled a grenade launcher and case from the bag before handing it to Jose. Turning to cut the wire Jose heard an explosion and turned to see an avalanche of car parts fall across the path and Sedova packing the grenade launcher back into the bag. Shaking his head he tore the wire away, before ducking through to the other side of the fence, his protector following him dragging her bag through.
“So what now? We have no federal escort, no car and we’re in the middle of a war-zone. I knew the US Marshall’s office shouldn’t have sent some bimbo actress to pick me…” He stopped as Sedova shot him an angry look before walking down the street towards the road intersection, her hands unbuttoning her jacket. Striking a pose it became evident what she was doing when a car came to a stop. Rolling his eyes Jose watched as his escort got into the car, before the horn sounded and the body of the driver slumped onto the pavement unconscious.
“Get my jacket and get in!” Sedova ordered, as she shifted into the driver’s seat. Nodding his head, Jose grabbed the jacket and rucksack before climbing into the back of the car. Gunning the engine Sedova headed north along the backstreets towards the main highway that lead up to the border. “For your information I was trained in Special Operations Sevastopol during my National Service back home, after that I worked for Interpol for a period, then I did that TV show before going back to my mercenary roots so I am not a bimbo actress.”
“You left our escape vehicle with a cartel chop-shop!” Jose snapped as a police car sped past the other way.
“I left it there because that was the plan, why would anyone bring a high end Mercades into Mexico. The answer, because I wanted it to end up in Cartel hands, a car like that will go to some high ranking enforcer in the United States.” Sedova explained.
“Ci, as a former driver for one of El Aquila’s lieutenants I know this.” Jose answered, as the car pulled onto the main highway behind a Ford Taurus with an eagle painted in white on the rear of the car.
“I had the car modified, there’s a tracker in one of the seats and a remote immobilizer in the engine.” Sedova answered, as they headed out Villa Ahumunda. “No lengthy police chase, no easy escape for the cartel boss inside.” She added, as the Taurus slowed down to join the queue of traffic leaving town. “Hand me my jacket and the thing that looks like a laptop from my bag, I have a feeling we have a roadblock up ahead.” She added, as the traffic crawled slowly forward. Her suspicions were confirmed by the pair of State Police Cars parked up-ahead as well as a pick-up truck, its flanks emblazoned with the mark of El Aquila.
Slowing down Sedova wound down the window and smiled at the police officer, before flicking the switch on the side of the laptop and throwing it out of the window and slamming her foot down on the accelerator and pulling away. Peering out the back window Jose watched as the State Police Cars pulled away before slowing down and crashed into each other while the men on the ground hunched over and started vomiting or even just falling to their knees holding their heads. “What was that?” He asked, as a few of the officers pulled their weapons from their holsters and fired a few shots, their bullets going wide.
“Non-Lethal Disorientation Device, it’s a little thing I picked up last time I was in Europe. The flashing lights cause headaches, vomiting and imbalance in anyone in the radius of effect. They will be in no state to continue pursuit for at least half an hour.” Sedova stated, as she accelerated, the Ford Taurus matching pace and keeping just ahead of the stolen car. “The problem isn’t behind us, it’s ahead of us, that Taurus is a pace car phoning in our position to the rest of their gang.”
“Ci I have done this before, there is a bridge up ahead where we would heard El Tarantula vehicles towards. When they passed the hermanos with rocket launchers would take them out.” Jose sighed, as he looked in the rucksack. “I don’t suppose you have anything for that?”
“Not on me. Tell me if we pull over will the pace car stop?” Sedova asked, as she rested a hand on the pistol holstered on her belt.
“Not usually but they may to make sure we don’t double back.” Jose told her. “Why do you ask?”
“I need to send a text to Gutierrez. It’s clear he’s taking handouts from the El Tarantula Cartel, and that he sent them to grab you. And while the enemy of my enemy isn’t always my friend, it’s always the enemy to my enemy.” She stated, as she flicked the hazard warning lights on and pulled into a lay-by on the side of the road, the pace car pulling onto the side of the highway seconds later. Removing her phone, Sedova slipped out of the car and typed in a number before placing the phone to her ear, her free hand resting on the sidearm. Mumbling to herself she paced up and down, before walking towards the pace car and knocking on the driver-side window, the man inside winding it down to look at her. “Howdy,” Sedova said in a mock Texan accent, “My car is broken down, I don’t suppose you boys could drive me to a garage?” She asked sweetly, the four men inside looking at one another.
“Get in.” The driver ordered, as the passenger whispered something into the phone before switching it off. Smiling Sedova squeezed onto the back seat before resting her hand on his holster, before elbowing the man to the right and drew her pistol and fired three shots into the men around her. The man in the seat to her right shook himself and reached for her throat only for his ‘victim’ to elbow him again and draw a knife, the blade cutting through his throat. Kicking the bodies out of the car Sedova gestured for Jose to come running over.
“I’ll drive, you yell down at the phone at you ‘hermanos’.” Sedova stated as she sent two texts on her phone before climbing into the front seat and putting her foot down, the Ford Taurus idling down the highway.
“Senora there is a lot of product back here.” Jose stated as he looked in the back of the car. “There is also a box of gunsights marked ‘CS’ as well.” He added as an old Cadillac and an equally rundown pick-up truck came thundering towards them, their sides emblazoned with spiders. A few minutes later the three vehicles reached a bridge, a few gang members armed with RPG Launchers already waiting for them. Dashing through Sedova watched in the rear-screen mirror as the pursuit vehicles were bombarded with rockets. As the smoke cleared from the wreckage several of the bridge-top ambush team raced to a pair of pick-ups parked just off the road and started driving after the fleeing Ford Taurus. “We still have a problem on our tail, and it just got larger!!”
“Huh?” Sedova stated as she checked the rear view mirror to see a heavily armoured truck come thundering down the road, the top mounted machinegun opening fire indiscriminately on all three vehicles. “Great Narco-Tank!” She hissed, as one of the pursuit vehicles spun off the road, as the Narco-Tank gained ground on the Ford Taurus, as the men in the second pick-up truck opened fire only for the rounds to bounce off the armoured flanks of the vehicle. “Change of plan, you drive and I’ll shoot.” She ordered, as she switched on the cruise control and slipped into the back of the car, as seconds later Jose took his place. Pulling the grenade launcher from her rucksack and one of the gunsights and slotted the former into the later and aimed the weapon out the window and fired, the grenade slamming into the remaining pick-up truck and exploding in a burning fireball.
“Senora you need to hurry!” Jose called as the Narco-Tank slammed into the rear of the Taurus, the force of the impact causing her to drop the launcher out the window.
“Slow down and get behind them!” Sedova ordered as the Narco-Tank opened fire, the machine gun bullets arching past them as Jose swerved into the left hand carriage-way and slowed down bringing the Taurus out of the line of fire. Pulling behind the Narco-Tank, Sedova and Jose watched as the back of the ‘tank’ opened and a pair of gunmen opened fire with their assault rifles, the rounds slashing off the hardened bonnet of the Ford Taurus.
“This is better!” Jose sneered, as Sedova picked up a bundle of hemp from the boot of the car and a blowtorch from her bag, lit it, and then flung it into the back of the Narco-Tank, the noxious fumes causing the ad-hoc armoured vehicle shaking before careering off the road. “How are we getting to the border with all my hermanos hunting me!”
“Oh don’t worry about that, we’re getting out very soon. Pull over here.” Sedova stated as Jose pulled the car over, before passing a sign reading ‘Casa Sedova’. “We were never heading to the border.” She added as Jose stopped the car before a wall of police cars. “I wasn’t a bimbo cop by the way, I was a professional bounty hunter, while you are responsible for the murders of two dozen people, including at least three children. The US government is refusing to give you amnesty as a favour to the Federal Police. Enjoy your time in prison.” She added, as a police officer walked over and handcuffed Jose to the wheel. “You’re going to be there for a while.”
|4donkeyjohnson: i stole a watch|
i stole a watch
i literally stole time from someone.
that crime cost me twenty years in prison.
my time was stolen. life has a funny way of balancing its books
|Batkevin74: C.L.O.C. Transcript|
Transcript of conversation between time violator Harvey Key and witness Reginald Joll. Recorded by Chronality Logistics Overwatch Command (C.L.O.C) operatives and presented as evidence in the matter of The People Vs Harvey Key. Charges of murder, time crime and grand larceny pending.
RJ: (rustling sound) Yes Harvey.
HK: Did I tell you the time I stole the Cullinan Diamond?
RJ: No Harvey, you never did.
HK: Yes, I did.
RJ: (laughter, coughing) No, I meant you never told me. Why are you telling me?
RJ: (laughter) I’m that boring.
HK: It was…where are you going?
RJ: I’m going to the bathroom. Then you can tell me, you don’t have to y’know.
(footsteps, sounds of water, flushing, more water, footsteps)
RJ: Now what were you waffling about you old fool?
HK: The time I stole the Cullinan Diamond, Reginald.
HK: Yes. Just before the crackdown by the Clock Committee. The main problem was every idiot was travelling back in time to shoot Hitler or bang Marilyn or get T-Rex selfies. Which is why the Clock cracked down and spent all that money fixing the timeline.
RJ: I seem to remember that Elvis was President.
HK: Multiple timeline convergences. But I had a plan, a simple plan that didn’t involve changing things which would escape their notice. I travelled back in time to South Africa in 1888.
RJ: Okay. (coughing)
HK: You okay Reginald?
RJ: Damn asthma. Sorry Harvey. So you went to Africa? Why?
HK: I looked up all the famous gems and where they came from. So by travelling back to before they were discovered and replacing them with high grade cubic zirconium they’d never suspect until it was too late and the crime cemented into the timeline unable to change.
RJ: So you swapped the gems before they were found so they still got found but the gems found would be fakes? That sounds…well stupid.
HK: Is this stupid?
RJ: Oh my god! (sounds of movement, undetermined source)
HK: That my friend is the original Cullinan Diamond, or as I’ve called it all these years the Key Diamond.
RJ: It’s beautiful!
HK: Isn’t she. I travelled back, swapped the gem, and by the time it was found in 1905 by Thomas Powell…
HK: Yes, Reginald?
RJ: How many of these do you have?
HK: About six?
HK: Nobody knows they’re missing, the world still turns and I get away with one of the greatest crimes in the history of jewel heists.
RJ: Harvey…I’m wearing a recorder.
RJ: I work for the CLOC (sounds of chairs/tables moving) PUT IT DOWN HARVEY!
HK: YOU LYING SNEAKY BACKSTABBING (muffled)
RJ: DON’T HAR...
HK: God dammit Reginald (heavy breathing)
(door breaking, glass breaking) C.L.O.C AGENTS! ON THE FLOOR! ON THE FLOOR!
|Stumpy49er: Chronos Cops|
Episode 1: Time to Fly
Rage DeLorian came at the drug smugglers like a storm. The ex cop walked through the shippping docks with a M60, mowing down armed henchmen. A car full of armed smugglers came around the corner firing guns at him. He switched to his grenade launcher and blew up the car, it's fiery corpse flew past him.
The head of the drug cartel, Santos, walked out of an office with a squad of goons and a rifle pointed at Rage. He fired at Rage who rolled away from the rifle shots, loaded another round in the grenade launcher and blew Santo and his squad of goons away.
Rage was still looking for one man. A mercenary with a mohawk Santos had hired by the name of Savage Rex. The man who killed Rage DeLorean's wife.
Rage climbed aboard Santos ship. Standing at the deck was Savage Rex, holding a chainsaw and smiling wickedly at Rage.
"Hey Rage. Long time no see, pal," Savage said. "Recognize this baby?" Savage held up the chainsaw he used to kill Rages wife.
"You bastard." Rage screamed as he held up his M60 and began firing at Savage.
A white light surrounded Savage and he disappeared.
"What the heck?" Rage asked. "Where did that son of a.."
Another light surrounded Rage and he dissappeared as well.
Basil Oddfellow had cracked the case of the Crimson Railroad. A series of crimes that had finally lead to the criminal mastermind, Lord Millwall. Basil and the Scotland Yard had stormed the estate of Lord Millwall, a rich industrialist who ran the criminal organization Red Ink.
Lord Orwell Millwall sat at his desk as Basil strode into his office, backed up by London's finest. Pointing his pistol at Lord Millwall.
"Lord Millwall, by her Majesties orders, you are hereby under arrest for the crimes of murder, extortion, money racketeering, kidnapping, assassinating a public official and public indecency." Basil said.
Lord Millwall smiled and winked. "Good job, old boy. Unfortunately for you, Basil Oddfellow, the game has just begun."
With that a light surrounded Lord Millwall and he disappeared. A moment later the same happenned to Basil Oddfellow.
Max Mason was a private eye. His partner had been murdered. He knew who did it. She walked into his office, pointing a gun at him.
"So, it's come to this, Vicious Vicky O'Hare. Come to finish what you started?" Max said.
"Sorry Maxie. It was good while it lasted. But you've been asking too many questions. I knew it'd be you or me." Vicky replied.
Max lit a cigarette and poured himself a drink of whiskey. "Well broad, what are you waiting for?" he said as he drank the whiskey, then pulled a pistol out of his desk. "You want me to shoot first or what?"
She fired first. Max disappeared in a haze of white light. Vicky looked confused, then she too disappeared.
Oscar Freeman was a bounty hunter. A black man who was born a slave, when he was freed he was recruited to the bounty hunter business by a white, ex-Union officer who saw the fire in Oscars eyes and the goodness in his heart.
Oscar's bounty sat in a saloon playing cards. Black Hat John Willits was a scoundrel, ex-Confederate officer who took to wearing a hood and hanging black men after the war. Oscar had taken this bounty personally. He tried to keep a cool head as he walked up to the poker table.
Black Hat looked up at Oscar and laughed. "They let yer kind in here, boy?"
"Black Hat Willits. Yer coming with me dead or alive." Oscar said as his hand hovered over his six shooter.
The patrons of the saloon all ran out, except for the bar keep, Oscar, Black Hat Willits and four members of his gang.
A man drew his gun at Oscar, who quick as a rattlesnake drew his gun and shot the man dead. A fire fight ensued. All of Willits gang lay dead on the ground as Black Hat sat at the poker table holding his cards.
"Youre good boy." Black Hat said. "I haven't met a man as fast as me yet." Black Hat threw the cards at Oscars face, rolled out of his chair and pulled his six shooter at Oscar, who quickly pulled his on Black Hat. They fired at the same time. Both men disappeared before the bullets struck.
Jackie Fox was a strong, black, female police officer. She worked vice in the city. Walking down the street at night she looked behind her as a blood red car started to follow her. She had a bad feeling about that car.
She had been following some reports of a serial killer named the Red Runner who liked to run over prostitutes in a blood red car. She kept walking, she slyly pulled out her pistol and stayed patient as the car crept behind her.
Suddenly she heard the tires screeching as the car sped towards her. She jumped and rolled out of the cars way and pulled her gun out, firing it at the cars tires. She couldn't see the driver, he was covered by darkness.
The car's tire finally blew out after Jackie's third shot. The car careened out of control and hit a telephone pole. Jackie ran up to the driver with her gun drawn. "You're under arrest, mother.."
The drivers side filled with light as the Red Runner disappeared.
Jackie swore to herself as she too disappeared.
Jet Chronos was a future cop. Cybernetically linked to the world government computer, he had been given the task of stopping the mad terrorist Poison Clockwork, who had been recruiting crooks throughout time to commit a series of crimes. This group of criminals had been dubbed the Clockwork Crooks.
It was Jet Chronos's task to recruit a rival group of cops to thwart the Clockwork Crooks.
Jet stood at the center of a high tech room as five lights appeared before him.
Rage DeLorean, Basil Oddfellow, Max Mason, Oscar Freeman and Jackie Fox all appeared at the same time in front of Jet Chronos.
"You have all been selected for your famous deeds as police officers and heroes of time. If you choose to join me, we will capture your rivals and save many innocent lives. We are the Chronos Cops." Jet said.
Jackie Fox laughed. "Seriously?"
The rest of the cops laughed as well. Then Oscar Freeman stepped forward. "I'll join you. If it means saving lives."
Basil Oddfellow stepped forward next. "Hear hear. Good man." he said as he slapped Oscar on the back. "I'll join as well."
Rage DeLorean stepped forward next. "If it means I get to kill Savage Rex, then I'm in."
"Well, killing isn't really.." Jet started.
Jackie Fox interrupted Jet. "Yeah, I'm in too. I need to stop that woman killer, Red Runner."
That left Max Mason, who lit a cigarette and sighed as the rest of the Chronos Cops waited for his answer. Max shrugged.
And so begins the adventures of those time traveling heroes, the Chronos Cops. Stay tuned for more episodes as they work to stop those dastardly Clockwork Crooks.
Next episode: Rome Gets Sacked.. Again?
Chronos Cops action figures. Rage DeLorean with attachment bionic arms. Jackie Fox with kung fu kick. Max Mason with light up cigarette.
Get yours today, kids.
The citizens of Earth 7 surrounded the scene of murder. Blood, a severed head, and an amputated arm laid on the ground. Mothers with their children continued walking at a brisk pace, shielding their eyes from the horrors. The blood began staining the green grass of the park creating a small carpet of crimson. The man was clearly pushed off the balcony of a 150 story apartment, not the buildings surrounding it. All of this happened in Costa Rica, in the city of Aires.
“Yes?” The Detective answered his Samsung Galaxy in the most sophisticated way possible, but utterly failed. You could clearly tell he was in bed sleeping.
“I don’t know who else to call but my brother has been murdered.” A woman spoke urgently.
“Ma'am, may I have your location?”
“Parque Verde Central in Aires. You will see the body.” The woman hanged up.
The Detective pushed himself out of the bed. He clearly didn’t have any motivation to rise on a Sunday morning. Half naked, he looked around his room. White painted walls, black wooden floor, and the door into the upstairs walkway in the bottom left corner from where he was sitting. He dragged his feet to the door across it into the bathroom and got ready.
His choice of clothing said it all. Grey overcoat from Burberry that reached his ankle, black hat that he himself crafted, black boots from Italy, and under the overcoat a black tank top with jeans. Serious, anonymous, and sophisticated until the overcoat was removed.
If anything, it made the muscular, tall, handsome, yet scary african american man look a little more friendly, rather than a threat. He stood up straight, grabbed his things, and proceeded to leave before he forgot one thing.
“Oh god today’s the day.” He muttered as he returned to his dresser and picked up a watch with an FIA symbol marked inside it.
“Evaluation. This watch will track me for the rest of the day.” He said to himself.
“Agent Kane.” Lana answered her iPhone. She was in a tall apartment building relaxing pool-side, in a hammock, at her penthouse, in a black bikini, on the 144th floor.
“Lana, how nice to hear your voice.” It was Accipiter. The last thing Lana wanted to hear pierce her ears today was that voice.
“My god I need a Valium already.” Lana spoke sarcastically.
“Now now, you may want to keep sober. You don’t need those ancient medicinal complications. Just lie on that healing bed and let it heal your stress.” Accipiter replied.
“It fixes genetic defects and other diseases d*mb*ss.”
“And soon the ones in Earth 7 will make people live forever.” Accipiter noted.
“Wait, Rubrum is doing that? Well whatever. Could you please make the call quicker.”
“Give me that,” Lana heard a bustling over the phone, “*ssh*l*. Stop rambling when talking to people.”
“Oh god not you.” Lana had a notion that it was Selenia.
“Hi b*tch. Anyway, to make it short. Look down from that pretty little penthouse balcony of yours.” Selenia commanded.
Lana walked toward the glass edge, “Why what’s….. my god. That’s a murder isn’t it?” Lana saw a commotion of people infecting and tainting the scene.
“Yes. Rubrum may call you in a few about it since news travels fast within the Falcon Empire. Anyway, the details are the fact that Inferno is said to have started in that apartment, he may have committed the murder, and you have to frame someone. TTYL bye.” Selenia hanged up.
“ARCHER!!!!!!” Lana called out.
“Jesus christ woman. Inside voice.” Cheryl walked out and confronted Lana.
“Oh shut up, get on that intergalactic space flight and do that assignment Malory gave you.” Lana told her off.
“Whatever bitch.” Cheryll walked back inside while Archer walked out.
“Rubrum just called me and told me the details.” Archer informed Lana and was completely naked.
“Accipiter and Selenia decided to bother me.” Lana said.
“Then let’s go investigate.” Archer motioned for Lana to follow him.
“Oh my god at least let me change.”
“You don’t need to. Just hypnotize everyone with your giant breasts and it will be fine.” Archer, being the *sshole that he is, spoke in a sarcastic tone.
“Uh yeah. Quick question. Why are you COMPLETELY NAKED IN MY APARTMENT!” Lana screamed.
“Well I kinda wanted to see if you wanted to… you know.”
“Uh huh yeah,” Lana calmly strolled to where she had laid and picked up a Tec-9 that was on the hammock, “Walk away before I shoot you.”
The Detective arrived walking briskly to the scene. He forced people out of his way so that he could get to the body, before the evidence got any more contaminated. Someone stopped him and he was so near to the victim.
“I called you because I need something from his body.” It was the woman who phoned him.
“What?” The Detective was flabbergasted. No one had ever called him just because he had the authority to take something.
“Yes. It’s a little amulet with an uppercase I on it.” The woman said.
“Excuse me, I was called to solve a case. I am going to solve a case.”
“500,000 just for that amulet.”
The Detective was pondering his choices and the consequences they led to. He could get the amulet and take the money. The FIA evaluation device wasn’t a problem, he knew how to fake data. But it would go against his moral compass to do good. Ultimately, he wanted the money so he decided to retrieve the amulet.
The Detective pushed people out of his way at first, but, as if a glass wall surrounded him, people began to get out of his way. It wasn’t like the people in the crowd were tall, muscular, and big like he was. They were in fact, however, he appeared to be more feared.
He reached the scene and quickly took a look at the severed head, amputated arm, and blood on the grass. He took quick pictures of each before he reached into the corpse’s pocket and grabbed a circular device. He quickly jogged back into the crowd and found the woman.
“Here.” He handed the amulet.
“Thank you. The funds have been transferred to your account.”
The both walked away from each other and The Detective didn’t pay attention to the woman until now. She had long blonde hair, white skin, and a professional blue suit. Her eyes were a deep crimson and her demeanor was unexpressive.
The Detective walked back toward the scene, but did not expect what happened next.
“THIS SCENE IS NOW FIA PROPERTY. MOVE!” Archer moved his way through the crowd and shouted.
“YOU ARE ALL NOT ALLOWED TO LEAVE UNTIL WE SAY SO!” Lana shouted at the crowd.
Vans marked with FIA symbols arrived at the scene from behind the crowd. People started screaming and tried running before they were gunned down by the armed guards.
“MAKE A SINGLE FILE LINE.” Archer ordered the people. They stopped screaming and running and formed the line. Included in the line was The Detective.
One by one, person by person, Archer and Lana sifted through the citizens. They sifted through everything from phones, to pockets, to bags. The Detective thought that it was an honest invasion of privacy, but chose not to say anything. He knew he had to cover up the transaction history, otherwise they would incriminate him due to technological proof of guilt. He could tell they weren’t actually looking for a suspect, but someone to blame.
He was prepared to be thoroughly searched, until something caught Archer, Lana, and The Detective’s eye. A 15 year old managed to slip through and was investigating the body.
“Hey, you are not allowed to be here.” Lana called out, but the teen seemed to have selective hearing.
“Hey,” Lana tapped the Teen’s shoulder, “What are you doing here?”
“What do you think I am doing here?” The teen asked ominously.
“Answer the question.” Lana ordered. Meanwhile the detective noticed something about the teen. He had Deep Crimson eyes like the woman. Something was horribly wrong, and the FIA and that mysterious cult was certainly involved somehow.
“Why are you so mean?” The teen turned into a little boy and began throwing a tantrum.
Lana was amazed, surprised, dumbfounded. There was no descriptive words for that moment of transfiguration. Archer and The Detective felt the same way.
“YOU ARE MEAN LIKE ANY OTHER ADULT IN THIS UNIVERSE.” The child cried out.
“Detain him.” Lana commanded the heavily armed guards.
“NO,” the child transformed back into a teen. “NO, NO, NO, NO.” He cried out. Each scream much ear piercing and scratching than the other.
The Detective grabbed Lana and pushed Archer to run. The Detective was screaming clear the area, get out, it’s Inferno.
Inferno began to scream as loudly as he possibly could. Horrible agonizing screams as if thousands of people were dying inside him. No, not dying, but tortured and suffering. Inferno cried tears of bright red blood as his teeth transfigured into horrible sharp sabertooths. His eyes turned black and he began breathing very heavily.
The Detective, Lana, Archer, and the guards and citizens blitzed across the park toward the entrance. They wanted to leave as quickly as possible.
Suddenly, a horrible roar that could be heard all over the planet. Selenia and Accipiter had heard it, and they shivered out of fear. Then, the roaring stopped and Inferno, who was standing there like death had come to visit, was gone from the scene.
Lana, The Detective, and Archer stood at the park entrance.
“I am going to phone in Rubrum.” Archer said.
“And I am going to phone in Accipiter and Selenia.” Lana said.
“I….. I….. I need to go see someone.” The Detective said.
“Wait, what’s your name?” Lana asked.
“Just call me detective.”
“Ugh I don’t want to go to this party.” The teen said to his friends who were in the car.
“Come on it will be fun.” One of his friends responded.
He got out of the car and went inside the house. He immediately hated what he had seen. Liquor everywhere, smoke, and loud music he never liked.
‘No one likes me. No one understands.’ He thought.
‘I do, I completely understand.’ He heard a voice. It was Inferno’s.
“Who’s that?” The teen said aloud.
“Who are you talking to?” A passerby spoke.
“Nevermind.” He ran to the balcony and leaned against the glass panes.
“Look, I know how you feel. Some people just don’t get us.” Inferno talked to his new best friend.
“You don’t know my life.”
“Oh I do. You see, my friends used to force me to go to these parties. I hated them, wish I could leave. And then I realized I didn’t have to deal with them.” Inferno spoke to the teen.
“Deal with them?”
“Well I had to deal with them as I grabbed their pesky small throats and shoved my nail through the trachea.” Inferno made a motion with his hand that scared the teen.
“I have always wanted to murder someone. I wonder what it feels like.” The teen pondered.
“You aren’t going to have that feeling,” Inferno started choking his best friend, “because you are going to do what I did. Which is jump off this balcony.”
“Hey you,” someone called out, “Let him go.”
“SHUT UP!!” Inferno screamed behind him. The person that called him out instantly combusted into flames. Everyone was screaming.
“Oh well, this is no longer fun.” Inferno looked at his best friend.
“Well once you are dead we can be best friends forever. But first.” Inferno shoved his best friend over the balcony glass barrier.
“La la la, humans should die, la la la, the most painful of ways.” Inferno started to sing to himself.
A body laid on the grass. The head severed, an arm amputated, and crimson blood pouring everywhere.
|Cbishop: Larsen Channel Seven News|
A cameraman counts the final seconds before going live as the intro music plays, and then a man starts, “Welcome to the Larsen Channel Seven News. I’m your anchor, Phillip Thyme...”
“...I’m your co-anchor, Paige Webb...”
“...I’m Rudy Day, with the weather...”
“...And I’m Duncan Shot, with sports.”
The camera goes back to Phillip, who jumps right in with, "Our top story today: it was the kick heard around the world! Who can forget this from the Supermodel Vs. Superblonde fight in the Richmond Rhinodome:"
A video clip plays of the event. A goalpost flies from the right side of the screen, catching Supermodel right in the gut, and sending her flying off the left side of the screen. The camera quickly follows to see the flying goalpost catch on the one that is still standing at the other end of the field. Supermodel continues sailing past until she crashes into the stands. She gets up immediately, and soars back across the field to where Superblonde now stands- the opposing twenty yard line.
"Bring it b[eep]ch!" Superblonde yells at the hero. "I'm gonna [beep] up that pretty face!"
Supermodel cocks back her fist while still in flight. "Yeah? Well f--ugh!" she yells, interrupted by a kick to the gut from Superblonde.
"'Fug?'" says the voiceover of Mike Rofon. "Did I hear that right, Ted? Did she just say, 'Fug?'"
Ted Atete is heard chuckling in the voiceover. "Yes, Mike, I do believe that was 'Fug.'"
"Well, that's the most ridiculous fuggin' thing I've ever heard," snickers Mike.
"I think it's fuggin' hilarious myself," Ted chuckles.
"Well what the fug do I know?" laughs Mike.
"Fug it, Mike. Just go with it," snorts Ted.
"Well, heh heh, wh-- bwah-ha! Wh-ha-ha! Why the fug not, Ted?" Mike finally finishes. Then both men lose it in the voiceover.
The camera cuts to Mike and Ted, hosting the Steakout Party at High Stakes- one of many such parties held that night, but the only one officially televised as part of the event. "Well, folks?" yells Mike as he and Ted recover themselves. "What the fug do you think?"
"FUG IT!" yells the crowd, followed by whoops and cheers.
"FUUGG IIIIIT!" Ted yells back.
"FUUUUGGG IIIIT," Mike and Ted yell in unison, raising their grill tongs.
"FUUUUGGG IIIIIIIT!" the partygoers scream back, pumping their fists and raising their beers.
The camera cuts back to Phillip and Paige at the news desk, Phillip chuckling with a good humored smile, and Paige clearly recovering from a good laugh at the antics of their coworkers. "I still think it's so great that they got to go to Richmond and do that," she says to Phillip. He nods. She looks at the camera and says, "Well, that was the story just four months ago. And in that short amount of time, 'fug' has caught on like wildfire. It's been used as the punchline for late night comedians and sitcoms, is all over Youtube, quicklybecame a part of our everyday slang, and was just in time to make the new word list for this year's dictionary. That's right: 'fug' can now be found under 'F' in the 2016 Encarta Dictionary."
"Which is appropriate," adds Phillip, "since it's a replacement for an 'F' word anyway."
Paige groans. Phillip chuckles. Duncan and Rudy can be heard booing from offscreen. Phillip shrugs and smiles at the camera.
"Yes, that was four months ago, but Supermodel is in the news again today as The Sponsors announce a new team mem--" Phillip puts a finger to his ear and listens before adding, "Folks, we're just getting word from the newsroom that there is a robbery in progress at the Larsen City Bank, and shots have been fired between the police and masked gunmen inside."
Paige nods at someone offscreen and turns to the camera. "Mike Rofon is on scene, and we take you now live to him. Mike?"
The camera cuts to Mike, wearing a bulletproof vest over his sport jacket, standing a hundred yards away from police cars that have converged on the bank. Police lights flash, and gunfire can be heard. "Phillip and Paige, the police have cordoned off the area here at the Larsen City Bank, and this is as close as they'll let us get to the scene. As you can see and hear behind me, the police haveengaged the suspects, and the gunfire has been continuous for the past few minutes- machine guns from the crooks, handguns from the police."
"That sounds like Glocks that the police are firing, Mike. Is that correct?" asks a very concerned looking Phillip in the studio. Paige nods agreement, looking equally concerned at the camera with her hands folded on the news desk.
Mike nods for a couple of seconds, listening as the sound feed delays from the studio to the field. His eyebrows twitch momentarily as he starts, "Uh... it's hard to tell from this distance, Phillip, with... with all of the activity going on here," he vamps as he figures out what to do with the question. "But uh... Glocks are the standard issue for the Larsen City Police Department. So, uh, yes," he nods to the camera. "I think you're probably right, Phillip," he says with a conceding hand gesture. "Those are Glocks you're hearing in the background."
In the studio, listening to Mike over his earpiece, Phillip nods at the confirmation as if he just received the most crucial information he's heard all day. Paige appears to be considering the information gravely.
"Phillip," cuts in Mike, "We're receiving word that a woman in a pink costume has been spotted inside the bank. She's carrying a sword, and it's not clear at this time if she is with the thieves, or if she has somehow gotten inside to apprehend them. Initial thought was that it was the new member of The Sponsors, but the costume doesn't seem right. We're not sure... Gunfire from the thieves has turned from the police outside to inside the bank! So either she's some new hero, or they're fighting among themselves. We're waiting on word fr--"
Mike stops speaking as louder shots are heard from close by the news crew. The camera whips around to a nearby alleyway, where a man in a business suit and a skull mask is shooting the driver of a car sitting at the mouth of the alley. The camera is wobbly as the cameraman apparently ducks for cover, but is still angling for a better shot of what's happening. As the camera stills, the shooter is already halfway down the alley, fleeing the scene on foot.
"Phillip! This is incredible!" exclaims Mike. Jumping into play-by-play reporting, he continues, "Only a few short feet from where we're standing, and only yards from the police, a masked gunman has opened fire on a parked car! Some of the officers have broken away from the standoff and are running towards the alley! They are chasing the gunman down the alley to the next street, and one of them... one of them is checking on the driver of the vehicle. As you can see and hear, there's a woman screaming in the passenger side! The condition of the driver is unknown at this time, but with the number of shots fired in through the driver's window, I can only imagine that we're not looking at a good outcome here."
"Mike, do you think it has anything to do with what's going on inside the bank?" asks Paige.
The camera in the field immediately swings around and shakes as Mike's cameraman runs back to the front of the van and focuses on the bank. "Paige," shouts Mike, "things are pretty hectic out here on the scene! There's a flurry of movement from seemingly everywhere right now, as the police scramble to cover both situations! It's hard to tell what's going on right this moment! We'll continue coverage and report everything as it happens! While we're trying to get some information from the ground, we'll go back to you in the studio, Phillip and Paige! Live at the Larsen City Bank, this is Mike Rofon for Larsen Seven News."
The camera switches back to the studio, where Phillip picks up. "Very tense situation right now at the Larsen City Bank, and we'll keep you apprised with any updates as they happen."
"Mm, yes, Phillip, that is terrible goings on at the Larsen City Bank tonight, and we hope that everyone gets out safe, and that none of our police are hurt." She looks at Phillip hopefully as she finishes.
Phillip nods in agreement. As the shot cuts to another camera angle, he says, "In the meantime, the results are in from this month's Larsen Channel Seven News Writing Contest!" He beams brightly as he adds, "And we'll be right back with Paige Webb and the results, after these messages."
Hey everyone, cbishop here. Obviously, the site had problems because of the merger with GameSpot, and they're not totally resolved yet. As not everyone can log in, I'm extending the deadline until Sunday, February 14th, at 11:59PM. Hopefully we'll be clear of the site migration problems by then. We'll have to try the one week vote on a different contest.
It goes against our norm to extend deadlines, but it doesn't seem right for me to call for a tie-breaker vote when I'm one of the ones in the lead, and not everyone can log in yet.
Thanks for your patience,
Thanks for reading, and thanks for voting! May the best story win! -cb :^D