Epilogue

done

Chapter 18: November 25th – New York – Evening

 ALMOST DONE

Chapter 17: November 25th – New York – Evening

 Hi reddit :)

Chapter 16: November 25th – New York – Afternoon

 At work quick update

Chapter 15: November 25th – New York – Late Morning

Rushed the ending so I can have it done before the end of work/OT.

Chapter 14: November 25nd – New York – Morning

 Tired new chapter.

Chapter 13: November 24nd – New York – Evening

 New Chapter, kinda rushed it didn't get to flesh it out. Just trying to hit that word count mark right now and try and come up with the conclusion. This one will probably be updated when I do the second version.

Chapter 12: November 24nd – New York – Evening

With this we near the third act.

Chapter 11: November 24nd – New York – Morning

Getting down to the wire, in order to not only reach my goal but finish my story expect less well written pieces of work. But I do have a clear ending right now for it :)

Chapter 10: November 23nd – New York – Afternoon

 Lengthy chapter... probably poorly written/explained.

Big one though, biggest chapter yet.

Chapter 9: November 22nd – New York – Evening

 New Chapter. Gonna just start writing the next one after a short break. Should be up tomorrow!

Chapter 8: November 22nd – New York – Evening

Another plot thick chapter. I have the next few lined up in my head so I just need to write them down so they make sense. We'll be jumping into a different character's POV next chapter, I was going to leave it as switching between Joseph/Angel but this character is becoming a bigger part plot wise and I think reader's should know what he's doing.

Other than that here is Chapter 8, plot thick. Also I'm just shy my "Target" for today.

Chapter 7: November 22nd – New York – Morning

Again more plot heavy discussion in here... better than 4-5. As the deadline draws closer these entries may be a little less edited for grammar and such as I'm trying to make deadlines. Chapters 4-5 will be re-written when this is done. After I've finished writing the book, I'll be re-publishing these chapter by chapter with edits and such so that's good!

Chapter 8 by tomorrow night! Hopefully...

Chapter 6: November 21st – New York – Evening

An interlude from the main story, I think this is the best piece since Chapter 2 to be honest. It's not a full chapter, like I said more of an interlude while everything is getting sorted. Chapter 7 should be a lot of information on what the Angel has been doing.

Chapter 5: November 20th – New York – Morning

Another rough chapter, not feeling good. I promise chapter six will be better. 

Chapter 4: November 19th – New York – Afternoon

May feel like a shovelware/filler chapter, I wasn't really feeling it but feel like it has to be done. Sorry for the grammar mistakes as I just wanted to finish this. Ummm I didn't know until googling 27th that it's the same police Station Law and Order is from... so ya not intentionally a nod to them.

Chapter 3: November 18th - North Vancouver, BC - Early Morning

 In which the story is flipped on its side and the premise gets a bit weird.

Or, there is something more to this world.

Chapter 2: New Westminster, BC, November 17th

 Hey, new chapter. Bit later than I hope but it is a lot longer. Chapter Three by Friday hopefully or sooner.

Chapter 1: New York, November 17th

Hey everyone, here is the first chapter. Originally this is planned to be the second chapter of the story, but because of some loopy timing stuff in the story I thought it would be better like this... It's more like an extended prologue, but still I think it's pretty good. It's a rough draft keep in mind like all NaNoWriMo writings, but I try and clean it up best I can.

Gonna try and get Chapter 2 done tomorrow, which is supposed to be Chapter 1... but I've decided to switch it!

Joseph Pierre's Angel of Death - Prologue

Joseph Pierre's Angel of Death is my idea for National Write a Novel Month. It's going to be a noirish horror story set in modern time. Here's the synopsis "A mass murderer is on the loose in New York City in guise of an Angel. No matter how hard the NYPD or the FBI look, they can't find anything about the suspect. An old family friend calls in a favour to Joseph Pierre, a spiritually damaged detective who specializes in "odd and unexplainable" case files for the RCMP to help out. What Joseph Pierre experiences is one of his worse cases yet, the Angel of Death."

Sounds cool eh? Well I have the whole Prologue finished! Read it below and expect the next chapter within a few days or less!

Poem: The Dream

The Dream

I don’t need to close my eyes
to see the darkness all around.
I don’t need to close my eyes
to feel that I’m alone.

In the distance,
a beacon ignited
a halo hidden in the dark.
A wonder sighted,
I know who you are.

All that I dreamt,
is a purpose for existing
in an reality of uncertainty.
Just a whisper, “I still believe in you”

And so you know,

in every dream I’ll ever dreamt,

in every promise that I’ll keep,
in every word that I’ll write,
and until there’s nothing left,
I’ll burn for you

Long time.

Psychics

Opinionated mind readers,
giving advice when none wanted,
nor needed.  Slithering their tongue,
speech wet with red ink, crossing out
words and numbers in my little diagram.

Filled with ideas and suggestions,
everyone here is trying to make their point.
Crowded in a sea of constant talking….
They’re mothers, fathers, lovers, doctors,
friendly drunks, strangers, people at the office,
therapists, authors…  explaining how I should feel,

and yet no one listens,
“How do I feel?”
because they already know.

Suffocation

Let me bleed out of this fluid cage,
pull my skin back, free my flesh.
Show me true freedom by letting me bleed,
Keep me bleeding, escape is bleeding.
Escape from the fluid cage,
suffocated by flesh.

My soul is bleeding Flying.

My Father's Blood Machine:

 Years and years ago when I was first told Poetry didn't have to rhyme, I made this. Now it's more of a prose... But anyways there are a bunch of parts to it and it is a science fiction story. Ignore the Line Breaks in brackets, that was in the draft that I sent to Variance Press

My Father’s Blood Machine

I: Kid Disaster, Part I: Train Heists

“His inexperience will play a role to our loss,”

Mother explains to Farther.

But Father’s silence says different.

They act calm, but I can hear the rattling

of nerves singing in a symphony of worry

as their hearts pump wildly against their chests.

A train whistle.

The sound of a cash register.

The train is big and old, it struggles to chug along the barren wasteland of the desert.

The tracks creak, and groan under the train's weight, a sign of good fortune of

gold, weapons, food, and other supplies. The biggest heist yet.

I shout to Father, and he throws Mother her favourite child,

the Long Bow Sniper Rifle.

“You shoot, we'll run.”

He says as he grabs my hand and throws us off the cliff.

The strong dusty wind covers our decent, Father's parachute

struggles, but we've managed to land on the middle of the train.

Mother shoots, she never misses.

One by one, like carnival ducks,

outside guards fall from the side railings

and onto unforgiving desert ground.

Father and I head off in different directions.

I crawl down the side of the train,

and enter one of the now unguarded cars.

My hands steady as I draw my guns,

people in the dining cart freeze in place,

and like trained mice they give me their day's earning.

This is the plan, I get the pocket money; Father gets the bacon money.

The clinging of coins falling into my bag,

is a sound I never get tired of.

Sound of bullets fired is new,

as the wind drags the sound into my cart.

I panic, it's the sound of my dad's revolver.

I drop the bag, spilling my treasure back in the depths,

as I begin running down the train, pushing people,

busting doors, and shooting anyone who's in my way.

Mother sends guardian angels in the shape of bullets.

Angels slay their targets upon contact as I make my way down the train.

I can hear everything, the train, guards falling onto the desert sand,

and the frustrated moans that replaced my Father’s screams.

Last carriage and I jump in busting the door that had the initials A.R.

Alexander Ryker,

this is his train.

This is his workers,

this isn't a heist,

it's an assassination.

II: Kid Disaster, Part 2: Losses

I stumble inside the carriage, tackling a body as I fall onto the floor.

I find myself lost in the beauty pinned below me. Her

pale toned skin, emerald green eyes and short black hair.

She’s beautiful, exotic like the first few days of a new season.

Father's screams snapped me back to reality, back to real life.

"Father, are you okay?" I shout, as I take in the scene.

Father is fighting a man with a sword,

frantically shooting at the Swordsman.

Which easily deflects into the cabin walls.

Father tries again and again; nothing goes through,

except for the Swordsman’s blade into my Father’s flesh.

Despite the odds,

the struggling partner of the dance continues to shoot,

More bullets fired, more swings of the sword.

An abyss of destruction opens up inside the carriage as bullets lodge themselves

in walls and furniture, as blood splatters everywhere and screams bounces off the walls.

The battle rages like a fire, as a figure steps out behind a turned over desk.

Alexander Ryker. Tyrant of this dead county. Richest man in the ruined world.

Like a coward he pulls out his own gun while my Father's back is turned to him.

Ryker shoots. Bullets go into my Father’s back, exploding out from his chest.

My Father falls to the ground.

The Swordsman stops and turns around, facing me.

His lips snarl, as his eyes studies me.

My body doesn't react properly to the scene, as if I was frozen.

"And who are you boy?" Ryker demanded, blowing smoke from his gun.

The Swordsman steps aside from my Father’s corpse, the pale girl runs to Ryker.

I still stand in uncertainly, fight, run, or die?

I’m Kid Disaster; I should live up to my name.

I draw. Sword beats gun.

Sword cuts my throat like butter,

blood squirts onto the floor below as I fall beside Father.

I don't hear his heartbeat, and his skin is growing colder.

My body grows weaker, as a black boot begins to push me towards the door.

I look back at the scene, Ryker standing by his beautiful girl,

a girl whose eyes remind me of a child's doll, green and empty.

She's crying after witnessing the whole scene, and I can still hear her

as the Swordsman throws me off the train along with my Father's body.

As the train chugs away, I can still hear her cry.

My head crashes head first into the unforgiving desert sand.

I close my eyes briefly and let the world pass by,

and within moments I hear the muffled sounds of Mother

through Father's waist radio. I reach for it and answer,

"Mother I'm coming home short"

I turn myself on my back, the desert sun cooks my insides. No bones broken..

Blood still pours out of my wound spilling onto the desert sand.

I look around, trying to comprehend the moments of the past several seconds.

I put the radio down, and let my Mother talk frantically on the radio, I don't answer.

We lost, I failed my Father, and I failed my family.

II: The Lost & Loved, Part One: A Crush Without A Name

I’ve retired to my bed hours ago and I haven’t slept.
Every time I close my eyes, the boy from days ago is there.
With his fiery red hair and brown eyes that leaks false confidence.
He’s in my nightmares. Turning my nightmares
into fantasies, as he protects me from lust filled demons
wanting to take me, wanting to use me.
With his guns, he protects me from my daddy and his men.

I turn in my bed, can’t stop thinking about him.
He couldn’t be any older than I, possibly younger.
Fifteen? Maybe Sixteen? I don’t know, yet I could find out.
I could simply shadow the guards who are searching for him.
I could warn him, be his guardian angel. Save him, like he
saves me in my dreams. I can save him from
the blasted hell that awaits him in my dad’s dungeon.
All this for a simple boy?

Yes.



III: Massacre at the Atrocious’ Home

For several days after the train job there was nothing.
Nothing to do, nothing talked about and nothing felt.
Just silence within our house, just silence.

Mother hasn’t gotten out of bed and I haven’t talked to her.
She blames me, I blame me and I feel terrible for it.
All I could do is think up of excuses and what ifs.
No matter how hard I try, I still feel the burden of loss.

Physically I’m beat.
The bullets couldn’t be found and I feel like I’ve been thrown out of a train.
Between my own blame and mother’s ignorance of my existence,
I don’t know how I’m holding on. The only relief I have for myself
is knowing that everything ends.
Everything.

When I sleep I don’t dream, I just sit in the blackness.
In the blackness I hear the clock workings of a machine ticking,
As if it’s counting down to something.
Counting down to midnight.

Another night passes.
Another day arrives.

The sun rises over the desert wastelands, cooking people like it wants to eat them.
I hate a lot of things… The Sun, myself, Ryker and the bothersome knock at the door.
Stumble out of bed, still tired from oversleeping. I manage to get to the door,
the answer wasn’t what I was expecting. A clicking of a trigger, as a gun fires
right at my body. I fell at the door step.

Blackness bleeds into reality making everything distant.
Then the sound starts to fade until there is nothing but static.
The bullet burns inside my body; I can feel the bullet melt inside of me.
It burns, it fucking burns and that’s how I know I’m alive.
To feel pain is to know that you’re alive and I can assure everyone,
I am fucking alive.

Whines bring my back from the blackness,
away from the clock ticking, away from nothing.
Soldiers march around my house creating a rhythm,
The footsteps of the soldiers are one, two, one two,
then I hear the tick tocks of a clock inside of me, again.
The clock ticking inside of me matches their marching rhythm.
As if it was counting down the final few seconds till midnight,
till something inside of me explodes.

I can hear the marching of men, the clock ticking,
the whispers of soldiers and the rumors they spread.
Yet, a single sound was louder than the rest. A cry
from a voice that I’ll recognize anywhere, gagged or non-gagged.
My mother’s voice.
My mother’s voice cried out, as if she was being
tortured or worse yet. Raped.
My mother’s crying is the sound that pushed the clock forward.
It is midnight inside my body as anger and regret explodes inside of me.
Awakening something within.

I get up. Guns appear in my hands.
I open fire at anything that isn’t my mother.
The air is covered with bullets as corpses hit the floor.
I’m a conductor of death and destruction,
as I feed my anger with my assaulters’ deaths.

Uniforms of my assaulters have Ryker’s symbol on them.
An image of the Old World’s confederate flag.
Upon that sight, I lose it. I let it all out.

Everyone dies.
Everyone.
I lose myself in my anger,
as corpses hit the ground.

I shout in the blaze of gunfire.
“DIE! DIE! DIE!,”
Everyone dies.
Everything ends.

IV: Ryker’s Bitter Defeat

“No, no, no, no”
“No, no, no, no”
“NO!”

“How can this be? Why, why, why…
How can this small little boy be free?
Swordsman, I want you to find him.
His head I want you to skim
off his neck and bring it to me.”

“But first, a small little task.
I want you to murder his mother,
that’s all I ask.
In his pity and misery I shall bask.”

“Now where is that whore?
Daughter of mine, I need her on all fours.
She left? Wherefore?
Stupid little whore.
I’ll deal with her,
Oh I will deal with her…”



V: The Lost and Loved, Part Two: Miss Atrocious & Princess Scarlet.

My warnings are no longer needed.
No matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t out run the carriages
of my Daddy’s army.
They’ve visited them first, Daddy’s personal army.
I’m shocked by the sight of destruction and devastation,
bodies piled up as high as I, and used bullets were everywhere.
I couldn’t take a step towards the house without stepping on a used bullet.
Yet, what truly shocked me
was the number of bodies that a few people can make.

My nose flared as bodies fouled the air,
My shoes are stained with blood as the desert refuses
to soak up more blood from the many pools.
I counted the bodies; all from my Daddy’s personal army.
A smile stretched amongst my face, as I look at the carnage once again.

I entered the half destroyed house, searching for any clues
on where my dream boy has gone. I listened to the creaking of the floorboards,
as I walked. But then, clicking sounds behind me can be heard. I turned around.
“What are you doing in my house?” An older woman asked, gun pointed at me.
Yet, her voice was shaky and scared like she saw something diabolical,
like she saw the face of the devil himself. “I’m here to help, I swear”
She lowers the gun and sighed. “I don’t need help, I need saving”
The older woman collapses on the floor. I rush to her side.
“Why, what’s wrong?” I asked, holding her like I would with my late mommy.
“I can’t believe I let him do this, to our only son… Oh god… It woke today.
When it woke, it started killing. It wouldn’t stop. Not even the pleas of grown men
begging for their lives made him reconsider. All he did was smirk and smiled
as he murdered them all. He killed them all!” The older woman cried.

I stayed with the woman that night,
still unknown what caused her fright,
nor the location of my dream boy.
In the morning, I’ll ask questions.

Like every night I had the same dreams.
And like every night since the incident on the train,
he was there to save me.

In the morning,
I told her everything about me.
My Daddy, the boy and the army,
I was too late, but she told me he didn’t go far.
In fact he went to New Old New Mexico.
To search for “The Doctor,” and to find the Key.
Then she told me his name, that’s all.
Where he went, what he’s looking for, and his name.

Few days behind, left post haste.
I bid Miss Atrocious goodbye, and I promised her
that I’ll bring her boy back to her.
Alive and well.

VI: New Old New Mexico, Part One: Once Upon A Time

More questions than answers,
more riddles than solutions,
more bad news than good,
hopefully this trend will end.
Or at least lead to something.

Many days have passed,
and many deaths committed.
To find the answer of my being.

The sun sets on the desert wasteland,
I couldn’t help but think of what happened a little over a week ago,
when I transformed into a monster, when I slaughtered several of men.
I wanted revenge, but not on the innocent. I was a monster, I was something else,
I needed answers. My mother wouldn’t tell me her secrets locked behind
her lips. She did tell me my answers can be found in New Old New Mexico.

After many days of travel, I’ve found myself on top of a huge cliff.
Below the cliff lies the city of New Old New Mexico,
filled with criminals and scumbags who can’t function in normal society.
This hell hole, this city for the scum, is where I’m supposed to find my answers?

The moon has raised and the sun has set.
No doctor would be up this late, I’ll camp outside the city gates
for the night.

During the night, I looked out to the distance I’ve traveled.
In the darkness of night, there is a patch of light, a campfire.
For the past few nights I’ve noticed the campfire in the distance.
Too far away to care, but tonight it’s a little too close for comfort.
So tonight, I’ll meet my personal stalker.

I walked away from the city and towards the fire in the distance,
towards my stalker. A few hours walk between both of our camps.
I’ve arrived to the campsite of my stalker near midnight.
The campsite was an actual campsite, opposed to just my blanket and I.
A bedroll was out, a fire and even a bag was lying out on the sand. So
I crept closer to the bed roll where the small figure laid, beside the bedroll were
daggers of various size and. I cringe at the thought of my stalker being the Swordsman.
I extend my arm to the bedroll and pulled the blanket away from the sleeping person,
introducing their face to the cold night air of the desert. Few steps back in shock.
Sleeping on the cold night desert ground was my pale toned exotic broken doll
from the train job.

She startled awake, reaching for her daggers.
She didn’t get to the daggers before I pulled the gun on her, clicked the barrel back.
“What’re you doing here?” I asked, she smirked and said “Got long?”... “Rest of the night”
She sighed, stretched and sat up on her bedroll. Smiling wistfully as I put the gun away. She
patted on the bedroll to join her, I did so. She gave me a warm smile and began to speak...
“Once upon a time...”

VII: New Old New Mexico, Part Two: Lovers & Criminals

The night started off with “Once upon a time” and ended in her bedroll,
and for one night I didn’t think about who or what I was; but, who I was with.
Time slowed down for a minute when we woke up and stared into each other’s eyes.
I saw the whole world reflected in her emerald eyes, and it was beautiful.
The green desert sand vaguely look like grass, the sun shined a beautiful green colour.
It was a sight, only to be out done by her smile when she kissed my forehead and wished me
a good morning. Today is going to be a good day.

High noon and our shadows stretch along the desert road of New Old New Mexico.
We walked together, hand in hand. Love is a rare sight for this criminal town.
A rarer sight is the beauty of Scarlet in this town. Hollers and rude propositions are made
directly at her. Any other man would have ripped the offender’s jaw off.
I didn’t, I felt safe and calm within her arm’s reach, like a little kid snuggled in his
safety blanket. Warm, calm and safe, that’s how I feel within her arms.

We walked for hours around town, looking for answers. We’ve come up with one lead.
The Desert Fox Tavern, and ask for Mistress Maria.

The city streets is covered with dead bodies of men who spoke the wrong thing,
no one picks them up, no one cares about the dead.
The streets smell of alcohol, blood and drugs from the dead bodies and users
who are spread out, passed out in the alley ways with needles halfway in them.
I pulled Scarlet closer to my body as if I was protecting her from the horrors within this world.
As we walked into the Desert Fox Tavern.

The Desert Fox Tavern is a complete opposite to the outside world.
It still had the thieves, whores and murders that outside have, but it was cleaner.
The wood frame in the tavern is polished, the floor clean from spills and junk.
The barkeep is well dressed, so is the house’s entertainment girls
who are dancing on top of tables and men.
The place mimics a place with class. Clean, fancy and it felt safe.

We walked up to the barkeep who asked us what we wanted.
She ordered a drink, I just made a statement. “I’d like to speak to Maria”
The bartender looked us over with his aged eyes and snarled.
“Heh, who doesn’t. Got a name kid?” I told him my name, his eyes lit up like torches.
“Ah, been expecting you.” I look at him wearily, as he walked to the back of the bar.
Through a curtain that covered the space behind the bar and whatever is behind there.

I look back to Scarlet worriedly, as I give her a peck on the cheek.
She seemed to be enjoying her drink, as she returns the peck with a kiss.
Behind us, shuffling of tables is heard. I paid no attention, as I waited
for this Mistress named Maria.

The barkeep returned from the back of the bar.
A figure followed, through the curtains of the back.
Sword in hand with glowing red eyes that’s when
I knew it wasn’t the Mistress, but the Swordsman.

VIII: New Old New Mexico, Part Three: The Legendary Swordsman

He leaped over the counter, sword out.
He moved at inhuman like speeds.
Swinging wildly at me as I try to avoid his blows.
Blood splattered on the walls, floor and on people,
Scarlet screamed.

People moved the tables, giving us room.
As I collapse on the ground, bleeding from my chest.
The swordsman smirked, sword by my neck.
“This was too easy boy! I’ve been told you took out an army.
This is sad, considering what you’re supposed to be like me.”
I coughed out blood, surprised that I’m still calm, still myself.

“You know, I’m disappointed, I was expecting a fight.
You gave as good of a fight as father did, boy.
You’re just like him. Dead. But If you do survive,
and I hope you do. I’ll be at the tracks in two weeks.
Trust me, you don’t want to miss it.” He snarled as he cut into my neck.
Blood poured out from my neck as I collapse on top of his sword and onto the ground.
I can hear him laugh; I can hear Scarlet’s crying as I collapse onto the ground.

Waiting for Death’s soft embrace.
Instead of the cold hands of death,
warm hands pick me up from the ground.
As I look into the stranger’s blue eyes and rough
facial hair, he spoke
“You need a doctor. It just so happens I’m a Doctor.

IX: The Experiments of the Crazed Doctor, Part One: Through the Eyes of Death

Blackness.

“Can you hear me?” A soft women’s voice asked.
After she spoke, I could hear her. I can hear her breathing,
against my ear. She stood behind me, close behind me.
I could hear much more than her, I could hear the rustling
of the bushes against the wind. I can hear small wood like
animals that thought to be extinct running around chirping.
But most importantly, I can hear myself. Ticking.

“Can you feel me?” She asked. After she spoke,
I could feel her cold smooth hands trace over my chest,
embracing me in her cold embrace as she breaths into my ear.
The cold wind blows against my chest, chilling my bones.
I shudder wildly from the cold.

“Can you see me?” She asked. After words my eyes opened up to the world.
I could see her pale skin, her long black shirt and soft hands trace over my body.
I could see the snow falling in the distance, on the field that I’m currently standing in.
A place that is different from the desert, a place that I could consider to be heaven.

“Can you smell me?” She asked. Like that my sense of smell returned.
She smelled of perfume with a hint of decaying flesh. Made my stomach turn,
but my lips quivered in excitement. Outside smelled of fresh snow and certain
liveliness with the wood like creatures jumping about.

“Can you taste me?” She finally asked, offering her wrist to my mouth.
I bit down on her wrist, drawing blood. Her warm, black blood oozes into my mouth.
It was sour, sweet, hot and wet. It brought my taste buds back to life and warmed my body
from the cold. Five of my senses of returned from the brink of death.

The pale-white-lady-in-a-black-long-sleeve-T-shirt kissed me deeply, as if she was breathing
life into something. She then pushed me with her hands, onto the ground. I opened my eyes.

Strapped.
Bounded.
Onto a bed, inside of a cave.

My screams are muffled as a figure from the darkness walks closer to me.
The man who called himself the Doctor in the bar, overlooking me with a grin on his face.
“I’m glad you’ve returned to me, cause we haven’t had any fun yet.”

He began to operate.

X: The Experiments of the Crazed Doctor, Part Two: Through the Eyes of Madness

When he finished, I knew he changed me.
It felt like he turned me inside out, the monster on the outside
and myself deep inside. Hidden away, locked away forever.

My new mechanical wings feel like natural figments of my body.
I can feel my wings stretched out, as far as they can go. Tearing at my spine.
My body has grown, bigger and more muscular. But the straps that hold me
still feel like they’re cutting into my skin. My eyes feel like there is veins
constantly popping on top of them. But my sight is amazingly detailed.
I swear, I could see past space and time, life and death with these new eyes.
My hair was no longer red, but long and black that go over my shoulders
with wired dreads to show what I am, not a beast of man nor a creation of man.
But birthed by machine and created by man. Not a man, not a machine.
But a blood machine.

The Doctor found out why I was here, something he caught when I was mumbling in my sleep.
He smirked, explaining the very long history that he had with my parents in a few sentences.
He explained that my mother had a birthing problem, twins to be exact. But both babies were dying. So he did what he could. He did what he did with technology and inserted nanobots
into each other, making us stronger so we can survive against the outside world.
My brother went insane, he started to disappear into thin air and reappear. The nanobots,
unlocked some psychic power thing that allows him to move fast.
My parents took my out of the Doctor’s hands before I developed a problem,
but my problem grew a lot later in life. A berserker, with uncanny abilities.
Just like my stealthily supposedly dead brother. The first, out of the two.
But now, since he ran into me at the tavern, he took this time to complete me.
I cringed at the sight at the monster I’ve become. He said I’ll need what he did,
in order to save the girl, the only person who can keep me calm. The only person who can
save my humanity and reverse the effects that the monster has become
She is my key to humanity
While this monster inside me is the key to defeat my brother,
The Swordsman.

XI: Justice in Murder, Part One: Blood Machine Vs Blood Machine

My journey is coming to an end,
a few months of travel has brought my towards the end,
an end that will flourish in murder.

I flew, my mechanical wings carried me through the desert,
gliding towards where everything started, the train tracks of the botched train robbery.
Gliding, letting the wind carry me to my destination as I scan the ground.
I couldn’t find anything, no sight of a campsite, no evidence of people been here.
I land at the spot where I landed after my first encounter with the swordsman.
My metal wings fold around me as I wonder the desert,
hours and upon hours of searching, I found nothing.

I fear for the life of my mother and lover,
“what am I suppose to do?”

“Nothing, boy” A whisper spoke as a sword pierces me from behind.
The blade twists, as blood gushes out from the wound. I turned around.
Nothing, except for a puddle of blood and agonizing pain.
Another whisper, another piercing blow by a sword, this time with laughter.
I cringe; I cry out in pain as I turn around and once again, nothing.
My vision blurs as the world spins. Then, out of the corner of my eye a figure manifests.
Out of thin air, he forms. The swordsman as he strikes me again with his sword, this time
finding its way between my shoulder blades and out my chest.
Wings arched,
back arched,
as my eyes stare into the heavens above.
Through the clouds, past the sky, I saw it.
Heaven, and it was her and I, once again.
Like the night in New Old New Mexico.
A reason to fight.
A reason to live,
Presents its self once again.

Focus.
Eyes focus onto my target.
Focus.
I ignore the pain as I draw.
Focus.
Raise both guns in the air.
Fire.

Bullets fly out of my guns,
justice in the form of iron casted explosives.
They’re hurled towards the Swordsman,
the moment of impact, didn’t happen.
As the swordsman vanishes into thin air,
Then rematerializes in front of me.

“Like I said boy, this isn’t a game. Go home and play with your toys”
The swordsman croaked, slashing his sword towards me.
I dodge, fall hard to the right. Gun drawn, fire. Deflected.
“Don’t you get it boy, you can’t beat the first born,” He spoke.
We froze, in heat of battle. Like a man who’s proud of himself, he explains,
“You’re nothing but a copy of me. A knock off. Sure, you fly with wings.
But I can do much more. I’m the original blood machine. I’m your superior.
I am older, I am complete.”
The swordsman spoke and bragged, as fire bursts from his hands.

Wings fold around me. Metal shielding me from fire, but I can feel the heat.
His laughter is loud as continuous streaming of flame torch my metal wings.
I grabbed my gun, checked the barrel twice. Drew it and opened my wings.
Flames curled in the air, all around me. As more flames drew closer, engulfing me.
I fire. My aim is true, my robotic like eye accurate. The bullet flies through the fire.
The bullet cuts through the flame and into its target wrist. Where the flesh meets
the robotic flame thrower within the wrist. Causing an explosion, engulfing the
Swordsman in flame. Like a bomb has gone off.
Everything burned. Me, Him and the desert. All lost in the burning inferno.

Everything went out of focus.
All I could see is fire, a burning inferno.

XII: Justice in Murder, Part Two: The Reddest Dawn

Flames illuminated the night sky,
cries of pain filled the air.
The spurting of blood and oil covered the sand,
coming from an one-armed swordsman.

The swordsman fell to his knees, only supported by his
sword. His face cries humility, as he looks upon the victor of the battle.
I, Kid disaster, the gunslinger with the metallic wings.
I, the lover without my lover. I, an avatar of my father’s desire for
vengeance. I’m Kid Disaster.

The gun raises to the Swordsman’s forehead, as I snarled.
“Where are they?” The question was answered with insane laughter.
I asked again, this time tension on the trigger. Swordsman continued to laugh.
“The one you love is at home; our mother however, is lost. Six feet under you lost”
He laughed and laughed. He didn’t beg, he didn’t even blink when I pulled the trigger as
bones, metal, flesh and computer parts exploded from his head. Ending the battle.

I stood there, fire burning against the sand. In the heart of the inferno I dig.
I dug with my hands as sand sinks through the cracks. I dig and dig, till I saw it.
Blonde strands of hair, was the first thing that I saw. Then my mother’s head.
A violent red auora glowed around me as I focus everything into my arm’s extension.
I raised the gun as a beam filled with my raw emotions hit the sky, turning it a bright red.
A beautiful red dawn, for my once beloved mother.



XIII: Justice in Murder, Part Three: Ryker & The Kid

I stare out into the fading night, glass goblet in hand.
An intoxicating night, filled with her little screams.
She cries, as she learns her place.
I sit outside on the patio, the tower overlooking the village.
As night fades and turn into morning.

The red morning dawn, reminds me of an old wives tale.
Red night, delight. Red Dawn, take warning.
I laugh, taking a sip from my red wine as I gaze out past my cities boarders.
Past the sheep, away from the thieves and into the desert.
Into the morning sun. Into the Red Dawn.
I take warning.

Hours passed. Still no word.
I assume the worse,
the Swordsman is dead.
I sweat at the thought,
he’s coming. He’s a coming.
And there is only one thing he wants:
Revenge.

I panic, I rush through the tower.
Preparing an army, out of anything I can find.
The roles are now reversed. I’m crying in panic,
Scarlet is laughing in joy.

Hours later,
out in the outskirts.
Me and my militia,
waiting for him.

He flies down, coming from the sky.
Metallic wings stretched,
justice is coming, in the form of
ungodly amount of bullets.

Bodies hit the ground,
as he hovers above it.
He then spoke, in a wrathful tone.

XIV: Justice in Murder, Part Four: Judgement

“You were once great,
you found a Babylon
and changed it into an Avalon.
Only now to lose it all,
as you prepare for your fall.

I won’t stop there, as
you will learn the true meaning of pain,
as I give you it, thrice that was on my soul.

Your city will burn to the ground,
like Rome & Troy.
You will lose everything that is your own,
as I rip them from your hands.
You shall pay with your life, for what you’ve done.
And that is my judgement, for you,
Ryker.”

XV: Justice in Murder, Part Five: The Devil Within

In an area ignored by Ryker, people gathered.
The thieves, prostitutes, murderers and the poor,
along side with the guards, citizens and the rich.
Standing around me, half coward in fear,
the other raising their fists in joy.
Yet, they don’t know. They will all die this day.

I didn’t wait; I pulled out my guns, and fired.
Bullets, ferociously fire out of the barrel and into people’s bodies.
The more I feed my anger, the more I feed the devil inside of me,
the more powerful the bullets become, taking out buildings upon impact.
I let out destruction, and in this destruction I’m more alive than I ever been.

Chaos reigned in Ryker’s ordered city.
People died, as quickly as he did.
It was so quick, so fast I didn’t get to savour his death.
Yet, I can’t stop, I can’t stop the destruction. I want it…
I want it to end. I want this whole place to end.
As I continue to destroy the city with my guns,
turning the place that Ryker hold dear into rubble.

Buildings fell, just as fast as my world fell,
as I continued the death and destruction rampage,
I heard a cry, Scarlet’s cry as she saw what I’ve become.
A monster, no better than Ryker himself.
She whispered my undoing.

XVI: The Loves & Lost, Part Three: The Angel Within

Here in my daddy’s tower,
I’m a prisoner, not of the tower but to his
lust.
I curl against the fluid stained sheets, crying
wanting to be near him again. My love.

I’ve counted the minutes that we’ve been separated,
secretly inside my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about him,
and the tragedy with his mother, the one I was made to watch.
Yet, I envy his mother’s death, compared what was done to me.
Every night, by several of men, I haven’t had a minute alone till now.
Oh god, help me.

Explosions tear apart the room,
deafening sound as I get up towards the windows.
I know it’s him,
he has come to save me.

I didn’t wait for him to come,
I ran out of the tower, down the steps and onto the street.
Running towards my love, dodging heavy debris.
“Love, love.” I shout out as loud as I could,
running round the corner, glancing at him once again.

It wasn’t his new appearance that scared me,
no, I loved him no matter what he looked like.
He looked like an angel, sent from above. But,
an attitude like a devil. The way he acted, without care
he was a monster. Someone I did not recognize.

I ran to him, regardless.
Shouting his name, he turned around and growled.
I froze in fright, looking at his angelic face with his evil eyes.
I stay still and whispered… “Anthony, I love you.”
Him, the monster, the kid, the man I love as Anthony, screamed.
Wings retracted somehow into his body, almost ripping himself apart.
Like a key, unlocking a forbidden door. I save him from the darkness of himself.
He stopped the destruction as he changed back to the person I love.
I was his angel, to his devil. I was his support; I was his light in his darkness.
He crawled against the dirt ground, too tired to walk as he clutched my feet.
“I love you too, Scarlet” He spoke, I fell to the ground with him, holding him and
cuddling him in my arms. We’re free from our past, at last.

Epilogue: Two Years Later

“They say that this wasn’t always a dead wasteland,
yes, surprisingly this place used to be a fortress of sorts,
before the devils came along and set it aflame. What happened?
We may never know, only rumours I have. Only a few survived,
and even then, they’re unsure what happened. Just like what happened in
Rome, Troy and Avalon, no one really knows what happened.
You ask me, I’m glad it got burnt to the ground, cause if It wasn’t for the
fortress bursting into flames, Mistress Maria would never have found this place.
And this Mexico Empire would have never have happened.”

“Oh, what about the devils? They say they’re still alive.
Traveling together, trying to live a quiet life. Some say
they are at the citadel in the desert, others say they found bliss.
I? I don’t care for children’s fairy tales, I think they are separated and miserable
like the rest of us. Heh, go on, have your fairy tale to believe.
I’ll remain here by the gates.”

Bodies

Fast and dirty.

Bodies:

My body is for me to
wreck,
carve,
starve,
love,
poison,
bend and break,
destroy and create,
to love or not.

Then why does it hurt me to see you do these things to yours?