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Site updated
18-Feb-2001 |
NEW ITEMS: |
Some re-working of previous stuff and improvment
of site.
Chapter 3 soon! |
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ABOMINATION: THE NEMESIS PROJECT Chapter One: The Brood Comes |
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The woman's once beautiful, famous face was a bruised,
bleeding ruin: her captor's had smashed that million dollar smile against
the windowsill to shut her up, so their demands, or chants, whatever
they were, could be heard as they shouted into the night... "THE BROOD COMESSSSSSSSS!""If that son of a bitch pops his head out, can I kill
the bastard?" The young police officer asked of his superior. But
he meant it largely in humour, to relieve the tension, the feeling of
impotance. When the Lieutenant ordered the strike, it would go smooth,
he knew what he was doing, unlike the dipshit politicians downstairs!
"We wait, if we can talk them out, and save us all a
lot of trouble, I'm willing to wait." They were, for once, in a
cushy spot, a luxury restraunt in a mall, that fortunately overlooked
the city's art museum, where the latest hostage
crisis was unfolding. The SWAT team were helping themselves to the finest
lobster and viands the stock market Yuppies normally had the privilege
of consuming. In less than three days the unit had been called
to four such events--the city was going crazy. "Blade, something's
happening..." One of the officers, listening into what was happening
inside the building with the aid of an advanced "laser" microphone,
informed the Lieutenant over his radio of events.Peering through the sight of an enormous rifle, Lieutenant
John Neil, or Blade, his nickname and call sign to the team, zoomed
the computerized optics into the 5th floor room where the lady was being
held. He had never liked ultra-skinny models, but she had been attractive:
now she was poor, a poor frightened wretch. Despite his pity for her,
he concentrated on his job: he switched to thermal imaging, and thanks
to the thinness of the building's walls, he could see that two men seemed
to be in confererence, one of them being the bastard who was holding
the model, and who obviously enjoyed smashing her face off the now broken
window."Gold, what are they saying? Can you patch it into me?"
Blade ordered his chief audio surveillance technician. She routed her
input into his radio...but a variety of problems degraded the sounds,
he could make out something about "the Brood"--they'd been
chanting that all night-- no surprises there, and "sacrifice the
slut"....oh, hell! "Shooter One to Command One, it looks like..." But before he could inform his superiors of events...his 'scope
let him see that the renowned lady was now screaming hysterically, her
arms were bound behind her back. The maniac was holding tight to the
binding, almost dislocating both of her delicate arms, but all Blade
could see was the man's elbow as he was standing behind cover, beside
the window. "THE BROOD COMESSS! DIE UNBELIEVERS!" As his radio was now on command channel, he didn't hear her
screams from the mike turn into shrieks, but he saw her being tilted
out the window, the other terrorist was below, lifting her feet up,
and she tumbled out... That beautiful, coffee-coloured skin steaked through the air
in front of his eyes, she was naked, and the superb optics let the SWAT
commander see the many additional wounds on her body. He didn't see
the exquisitely refined face hit the base of a statue of a former Governor,
and the brains that had taken her to the top of the modelling proffession
burst out over the granite....dozens of flashbulbs popped in surrounding
buildings as the gore-hawks took their grizzly trophies of a beautiful
woman's ignominious demise--it would soon be headline news all over
the world. |
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