Back in Black - RPG

A World in Need

Cairo, Egypt - 11:30 P.M.

Egypt:

Hell had broken loose. The city of Cairo was in a major citizen uprising. Normal citizens had finally risen against the tyrannical dictatorship of Mubarak who had ruled his country with state of emergency laws for nearly three decades. They finally had enough. Honest citizens had gone out on the streets to protest against a government that was not their own but instead held them down with militaristic oppression. It could have been an example of democratic decision-making, a people that uses peaceful protest to create an administration of their will.

But it had not been meant to be.

As always power hungry, corrupt people had to ruin this great moment in Egyptian history. The fundamentalists of the Muslim Brotherhood distributed weapons to the common people and stoked their already high level of dissatisfaction to the point of near violent frustration. At the same time the so called prime minister Mubarak had hired thugs to provoke the people, hit them with whips from camel backs and goad them into violent action so he would be justified when using the military against the once peaceful protesters.

None could have foreseen how that had escalated in the end.

Cairo, capital of Egypt, had become a warzone not unlike the battlefields of the third world. Houses and cars burned, a thick black smoke rose into the sky darkening the sky and contaminating the whole city with the poison stench of burning concrete, rubber, garbage, wood and human flesh. Sirens howled day and night always underlined by the unrhythmical staccato of AK-47 assault rifles. Not even the vicious stray dogs the pearl of Egypt had been known for showed on the streets anymore, instead rats gnawed on the deceased bodies of both sides who lay between empty brass shells of used ammunition. Be they rioter or soldier, they had bled red alike and in the end their blood had mixed in the streets again.

Now as the artificial thunder of the assault rifles echoed over the Tahrir square where Risky and her small squad fiercely defended the Cairo Museum For Egyptian Antiquities against looters and she rapidly fired bullet after bullet into the marauders she could not resist to throw her own battle cry in there as well.

“YAHOOOOO!!!” it sounded from indoors through smashed once glorious imperialism style windows.

Hot glass rained down on her raven hair as she ducked for cover once more and saw Jameson next to her go down in a red spray. His head almost severed the young soldier dropped dead next to her. Lady Luck cursed and the words that came out of her mouth made the other seasoned soldiers in her unit blush. Maybe she was a pretty woman but with 26 she had also seen more battlefields than any of them. And her experience had served her well so far. From her 12 man team only 6 were still alive, her included, and they would have run out of money hours before if she had not told them to drop their M4s and grab some of the AKs instead who were lying around in droves hold by cold dead hands. Looked as if Charlton Heston had been right. From my cold dead hands.

Ready to deal swift vengeance the Female Merc came up with an epic scream on her lips, eager to deal death in retaliation and demotivate the plunderers by further losses. Only to curse another time when the clip fell right out of the weapon.

“Damn Russian piece of junk!”

Even cursing more she dove for the clip and fumbled it back into the slot again. Only to duck deeper when automatic fire further ravaged the old window and concrete above her. In this moment, as she once more balanced on the firm line between death and life shortly of being vanquished from earth altogether, as the hot super fast lead raged above her, as her life hung on a thin thread only being saved by a malfunction of her gear there was only one thought that crossed her mind:

“Man, I just love my powers!”

“Incoming grenade!”

Not one to dream Risky had not allowed herself to disappear in the wonderland of her thoughts and got the sharp report of her subordinate soldier. A quick look was all it took to confirm his warning. Yes, a standard grenade as it was used all around the world. Quickly and a bit plump it flew towards their location thrown by an angry rioter who wanted to end this pathetic game once and for all. End it would indeed. And Risky knew exactly what she would do to achieve that goal.

Now everything was a question of timing. Jumping up she pressed one leg against the window frame and gained momentum. Both, her companions as well as her opponents, were too surprised to react to her sudden action.

Inside her Risky felt the adrenaline pumping, working, enhancing her to slightly superhuman levels where she could pull such stunts. The aim device in her right eye had already focussed on the egg shaped object and predicted where it would fly. Now it was all her turn, seeing if her hyped up reflexes would be able to deal with it. Like in bullet time she felt how her other leg bent back while the small explosive came nearer and nearer. Those moments when she was not sure if she would make it, where she had to give 100%, had to trust in her X-gene given abilities and see where it lead her, those moments were what she lived for. This small undecided moment where the sensational feeling of the adrenaline ruled her.

And then her span connected with the grenade and sent it back where it came from. It could be seen on the thrower’s face that he cherished the irony a lot as the thrown projectile landed right infront of him and touched his feet. Then his face disappeared with the rest on him in the explosion.

Captain Glassmann’s stunt bought her unit some time but not much. Angered by the explosion more and more people pushed onto the square from all directions to take on the intruders in their country with anger on their faces, hate in their hearts and death in their hands. How could they dare to intercept? How could they come into their country? What had begun as a mission of pacifying and protection had quickly become a small scale war.

As the strong figure of Hawk appeared next to her the original cause flashed in her mind again but said original cause had long outlived itself. Now it was about surviving. Where Risky had previously tried to stop some looters it was now about not getting burned down with this venerable museum.

He held out his big strong hand and even though his words were drowned by the constant automatic fire from outside she knew by the stern look in his eyes what he wanted. Nodding she took his hand and…

… they were in the midst of this terror. On their own they would not have lasted long on long distance. In the middle of this riot where they could use the attacker’s numbers against them they might have had a chance though.

With a subtle SNIKKT Risky unsheathed her claws and started hacking like wild. Terrified the citizens screamed. What was she doing here? They were victims, not culprits. Used by two warring sides to justify their violent acts. The thought kept shooting through her head like a bullet. As fingers, hands, arms and legs were severed, as they flew away from the bodies they once belonged to drawing a red trail of blood behind them, as blood splattered on her face from close distance from severed arteriae, as she rammed her knee claw through the chest of a family father and looked into his dying eyes for a second, she asked herself that. Even as a bullet was shot into her arm this question did not disappear, it was merely clouded by the short flash of pain.

Eventually they could not stand their ground anymore no matter how vicious they had fought and how many people they had killed. The flood of enraged people simply swept them away. Bleeding heavily from her left arm and having several dents in the right one Risky had to get them out, back to the front door where the last five man were retreating under cover. Hawk said something before he threw himself into the battle again healing almost faster than they could wound him. For Risky it would need a few days even with her enhanced healing to recover. After she had made sure to put her wounded arm in a sling she teleported herself and Hunter on a nearby rooftop where she plugged out the ear pieces to cut out the nagging voice of the general.

Looking down on the burning city while trying not to move her arm too much Risky turned to hunter and mumbled:

Cairo, Egypt - 2:47 A.M.

10th underworld

Present days: Civilian existence

People don’t change they substitute; everywhere she migrated to carnage was prevalent; Egypt was no difference. Y ran across the roof tops of Cairo dodging fire from multiple helicopters. Jumping behind a air conditioning unit, she pressed her back hard against the metal frame to avoid getting hit by the stray bullets.  Reaching down pulling a Smoke Grenade from her leg clasp she tossed it out, doing what the Viper usually did best which was conceal herself from fire.   The Helicopter swung around  so that it could get a vantage point in front of her, she saw this happening, pushing off the metal frame she ran directly towards the Helicopter; her luck helped her before she even had a chance to use it; as the gunmen was stuck trying to reload his rifle. The Cocaine Goddess, jumped into the air pushing her legs and her hands back to gain maximum distance on her jump. She managed to land on hand on the leg of the copter, The gunmen tried smacking her with his rifle, but he only drew himself closer to Y and with that she struck, throwing him out of the Copter leaving her to have her way with the Pilot. “I will molest your throat with my blade…if you don’t land this chopper” She said running her Black Rose Blade down his neck. It was a trap he couldn’t land the chopper anywhere, nowhere close by. She could smell his fear, Satan was dispelled but the smell of human fear still made her Nipples Stiff. “I…I…can’t bring it do…” She didn’t wait to hear his excuse as she wiped her blade over his neck, creating a small but effective cut in his throat causing him to bleed out.

As the plane began to spiral out of control; she kept her poise, waiting for the most opportune time, she jumped from the plane, with her limbs extended allowing the wind to push her down with some lag. She flowed with the current just right as the influx of wind pushed her to the right, towards a building that was covered by a piece of cloth. She landed rolling into a crouched position; glancing back the Helicopter slammed into the side of a building immediately erupting into flames. Y’s release from Satan, pretty much allowed her to do as she pleased, but one from the outside looking in probably wouldn’t notice much of a difference.

Finally her feet hit the ground of Cairo a war torn city; the influx of fear made a smirk come across the face of the predator; however she knew they were here to liberate the city.   Looking around the market, there were barrages of dead bodies, from all directions, these people never stood a chance; they literally ran into the angel of death. She fought William Greystroke months earlier, to a stalemate in Vegas, in the heat of that encounter, she was able to gain some sort of respect for him; a feat that few rarely obtained. In that he offered her a spot on the Wolf Pack, her presence here was a sign of her intrest.

Outside Cairo - Undisclosed Location

    Now
   Relentless.  
   
   The rain was.  It plunged London into a consuming gray gloom.  The drops felt like bullets, and they sounded like it too, as they slammed against the buildings.  The wind howled, the thunder screamed; but all inside The Pit were oblivious to such.  There was a different howling and screaming going on there.
   
   Nearly two stories under the busy city's streets, a club existed.  A dark place...a nasty, grimy place, full of monsters.
   
   One such monster sat in an egg-shaped chair, relaxed...calm, sipping an appletini.  The music pulsed and pounded; it vibrated the dancers' skin.  The lights left all dazed with spots in their eyes.  The monster in the chair looked to the left.  Two creatures (what appeared to be a water nymph and a demon sprite) were having sex in a dark corner...while eating each other.  The strippers on the dance floor were humans: the only ones in this place.  They were drugged by the supernatural pulse of energy, losing themselves in the emotions of the party.  Afterward, unknown to them, a group of aristocratic vampires had paid to...amuse themselves with the girls.  They would never leave this place. 
   
   Minotaurs and gremlins played Russian roylette on one side of the football-field-length room.  Harpies danced on the ceiling, throwing darts full of sedatives on the dancers below.  If you were struck, you would be eaten later.  If not, you kept dancing.  It was a game...just a game.
   
   The monster in the chair leaned forward on the metal balcony rail, staring at the masses of pandemonium and chaos.  It was sickening...and wonderful.  Bittersweet glory.  She smirked, razor fangs flashing, ice-blue eyes burning.  And it was only seven in the evening.
  
   Something caught her peripheral vision.  A blue-skinned fairy was approaching her.  He was dressed in black leather pants and a jacket.  His hair was fixed into white and neon-green dreads.  She jerked her head to invite him near her.  He took the seat opposite her at the table.
   
   "You're late.  Twenty-two minutes."  She said without inflection.  He didn't reply; she looked at him.  "What?"
   
   "Nothing."  He replied curtly.  She noticed he'd been staring at her outfit.  Even after all this time, it seemed he'd never gotten used to her not looking...well...non-Elven.  She chosen a scarlet mini-dress: straight, curve-hugging, with a plunging neckline and no shoulders.  Her heels were at least five inches tall, silver, putting her at at least 6'4''.  Her shoulder length black hair was pulled into a tight bun.
   
   But she decided not to press the matter.  The sooner she got this over with, the better.  "Well, what did you find out?"
  
    "Luar is well.  His daughter has just been married to General Ragnor's son.  They're doing well...quite happy."
    
   "And..."  She paused.  Why did she need to ask this...?
  
   "Kadro's doing well as well.  He is doing well as the military adviser.  Oh, it is also suspected that the King's son will replace him within the next  ten years." 
  
   "Good."  She said quietly.  Luar, her younger brother...she hadn't seen him in at least fifteen years.  She didn't want him to see her.  He wouldn't recognize her; he would be repulsed.  And Kadro, the one who, in another lifetime, she would've married...the last time she'd seen him was fifty years ago.  She didn't go through the portal often.  She didn't want to.  It was a bad habit.  She had accepted long ago that she would never go back.
   
   "Why do you go here, Sylver?"
   
   Sylver glared at him for a moment...then her gaze softened.  "Because...I have to.  It reminds me that I am them, and yet, I'm not.  I'm better."  That seemed to satisfy him; he turned and looked down upon the party.
   
   "Just wondering...who is it that's been staring at us this whole time?  I noticed when I walked in.  He's over there, balcony nearest the ceiling."  The fairy pointed out.  Sylver raised her eyebrow in amusement.  "His name is Maverik.  He's half-demon, half-human.  Owner of some  major companies back in the States.  He had the unfortunate pleasure of finding out that I...exposed a drug convoy headed to Chicago.  He's been dealing in NYC for some time, especially to cults.  Some werewolf clans.  Causes them to go crazy and make lots of messes.  So, I was bored one evening...so I went out, and I found them."
  
    "And you killed them."  He added with an accusing tone.
   
   "Same difference.  But anyway, I believe he is staring because he recognizes me from the description one of his men gave him.  He was a teleporter. He got away."
   
   "Will he try to kill you?"
   
   "Hmmm...I sure hope so.  That would be fun."  She said chuckling.  The fairy scowled.  "Do you ever attempt to be the way you used to? You don't have to be like this."
   
   Sylver stood, her eyes darkening.  "Like this..."  She said, savoring the words.  "Jak, I was always like this.  Now, I am no longer ignorant.  That, is the only difference."
   
   Almost immediatley, a young nymph with yellow eyes appeared to her right.  He bowed slightly before speaking.  "Miss, Mr. Maverik has requested your presence. He says he would like to speak with you."
   
   Sylver smiled, fangs sharpening.  "Of course, dear."
 
Thirty Minutes Later...
   "Oh gosh...oh please...STTOOOOOOPPP!!!!!!"
   
   Sylver gripped the ribcage bone from under his skin and ripped it out.  He wailed and thrashed under her.
   
   "You've been following me, Mr. Maverik.  I don't like that.  You've been trying to kill me for a year.  I don't like that either."  She slammed her fist into his knee cap, shattering it.  Without hesitation, she grabbed his Adam's apple and pulled him near her face.  "You tried to send your people through the Elven portal.  That was your worst mistake.  That one will cost you."  She dug her nails into his armpit and dug in, peeling the skin back as she went.  His agony increased, as did her laughter.
   
   "Why does it matter to you?! You're a vampire....a freakin' vampire bi--AAAAAAHHHHH!!!!"  He screamed as she set fire to the wound.
   
   "You should've done more research, douchebag.  I'm a freakin' vampire witch!!!"
   
   Then she set the rest of him on fire.
   
   She left the club a half hour later.  She wiped a fleck of blood of her cheek.  She always liked her dinners medium-well.
   
   When she got to her hotel, she dropped her purse on the ground and crashed onto the bed.  She looked down at its scattered contents.  A small, palm-sized picture had fallen out.  A group of leather-clad people, some massive, some just plain scary.  A team.  She smiled, almost sad.  Killing was so much more fun with company.  How she missed it.

Evening