Post by h4ck3r on May 12, 2012 22:50:47 GMT -5
Episode 1: “I’m the hero”
The video fuzzed in, showing close-up clips of my eyes, my mouth and the no-signal TV colour thing that often appeared during my hacking of youtube accounts, titantrons and even NYCCW’s TV station TNN. I tilt my camera slightly as it finally ends the transition from the unsecure static of my hacking to the normal HD quality of my camera. The camera was suspended atop something considerably higher than the floor, it was out of the camera’s view but I had actually used a part of my desk to place the camera in an adequate position, showing the viewer both myself, clad in the paintball mask, hoodie and armour I normally wore as well as my “lair”.
My lair was more of an unused unliveable room that was stationed somewhere in New York City. From the look of the building it seems that it was not intended for residential purposes but instead seems to be built for storage purposes or possibly a warehouse, however I had furnished it for living purposes, amongst the aid in me keeping my secret identity and H4ck3r identity seperated.
The apartment is accessed by a lift in the centre of the room and has a ceiling fitted entirely of lights most likely inspired from Bruce Wayne's tempory base in The Dark Knight. This building is not my residence, rather my base of opporations, a place where I can continue my H4ck3r activities without disturbing my “other self’s” life.
The walls are full of photographs of key points in Drake Hunter’s life and also contains several clocks that counted down to major events that I was planning to make become a reality. Finally I began to talk, continuing my use of the voice changer that dramatically lowered my own voice, making my voice sound almost unrecognizable.
H4ck3r
“Hello once again NYCCW universe. It’s been quite a while.” I introduce myself as I lean against the elevator in the middle of the room.
H4ck3r
“I tried to save her, I really did. I try to reason with her, tell her what Drake did to make me do all this and eventually, hopefully reveal who I really am ... but instead she jumps at me like a complete lunatic and forced me to defend myself, great job, Electra, great job.”
I remove my hood from my head, pulling it back and revealing medium length brown hair that dangles down onto the mask.
H4ck3r
“Everywhere I go, I’m depicted as being the villain, the bad guy, the source of all evil. So I’m only going to say this one more time for you complete twonking idiots out there who can’t get a grasp of what a hero or villain really is. I. Am. Not. A. Bad. Guy. Okay!”
I turn around and punch the wall around the elevator, actually cracking the wall slightly.
H4ck3r
“I’m tired of lurking in the shadows, watching, waiting and stalking. I’m done waiting for my chance to end Drake’s career. I’m tired of tearing away any sluts idiotic enough to fall into his trap, A.K.A. his pants.”
I pull my hair back and pull the hood forward, also checking my armour to see if it had been damaged from the fight earlier. Nope, this armour is extremely tough.
H4ck3r
“So, little miss “I flirt with everybody”, I will leave you be for the time being. Attacking somone who’s trying to save you? You don’t deserve to be saved. Especially not by me. I hope Drake does to you what he did to me.”
I walk up to my camera, picking it up with my right hand and carrying it around the building, pointing it at my mask.
H4ck3r
“Let me tell you a story, Electra. Once upon a time ... there was a beautiful princess, everybody loved her ... but then one day “the black knight” in shining armour appeared from nowhere and vanquished the man known as Alexander Krossa. That’s when it was revealed that Alexander was a demon all along, seducing women and stealing their souls. I’m the hero. I’m the good guy. You’ll see, Electra ... and when you do eventually see what a “demon” “Drake” is ... I won’t say “I told you so” ... I’ll just offer you a hug. Why? Because I’m actually a nice guy.”
I walk a perfect circle around the elevator by the time I finish the story, eventually placing the camera right back where it was, suspended atop my desk.
H4ck3r
“Electra, you refuse to listen to me, too obsessed with trying to have sexual relations with pretty much any man you meet ... so ... let’s just say that by the time this video is uploaded ... you’ll be wondering where your room-mate has wandered off to. See you soon, little girl.”
I reach out my arm to turn off the camera but I am distracted by my phone ringing the song “In the house in a heartbeat”, indicating I had a call coming through from one of my contacts. I pull the phone from out of one of my many pockets and lift it to my ear, listening to what this individual had to say. I turn around, remove my mask and speak without my voice changer. I was far enough away from the camera so that it would not capture my actual voice. Subtitles, added in by the people who I sent the tape, was shown bellow.
H4ck3r (subtitled)
“Hello? Yes. Yes. No, she’s got it. Yeah. Uh huh. Yeah. Erm, late. Yeah. Love you too.”
I hang up on who was calling, walk up to the desk and place the phone onto it and begin to remove my hood, pressing the camera off as I unzipped the hoodie underneath the armour.
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Episode 2: “Wandering, conceptualizing, sitting there waiting.”
It had been mere minutes before I had recorded my newest video. I had been planning to send it to the NYCCW Headquaters and place it somewhere where somebody important world find it and watch it, uploading it to youtube for the world to see me in my full glory.
I had already placed the DVD somewhere very public, using Drake’s missing keycard to get into the building undetected and place the DVD amongst one of the busiest parts of the building. I had already lost several more, some idiot seems to be taking the DVD’s and putting them in the trash.
I was free to do whatever I wish for a couple of hours. I could send Drake a nasty virus, I could stalk Electra ... or maybe I’ll have another “play date” with Metallica Evans? It’s been quite a while since me and her last spoke. The last time we saw each other, I threatened her in the women’s toilets and later threatened her on the streets, in a dark alley way. I could see the look in her eyes. She wasn’t scared. She was impressed. She had to be.
I remember feeling her warm breath on my hands as I pushed her to the wall, she cried, began to breath heavily and begged me not to hurt her. I didn’t wish to hurt her. I don’t hurt women, at least not unless a woman attacks me, that’s called self-defence. Once again, I find myself thinking about Electra when I should be focussing on Metallica, she’s the one I’m after.
Metallica always acts as the tough irish drinking girl that has an easy-going lifestyle and loves to have fun. I know who she really is. I know she’s a bisexual nerd who has mental problems and has a secret belief that everybody hates her. I even know about her days before the travelling circus, she was a belly dancer. A good one, in fact. I believe I watched her once before, before this whole “H4ck3r” personality got into the public eye. Best birthday party ever with a young Metallica dancing for me. Still, it surprises me she didn’t recognise me. I haven’t changed that much. Except for you know, like, wearing a costume and jumping about on rooftops hacking into people’s accounts and stuff.
Ah, Metallica Evans, the Harley Quinn to my Joker. Ah, what a beauty she was. Shame I can never act upon my attraction to her. Metallica, I do hope I can pursuade you into joining my cause. That’s the plan, get the girl, get my revenge, end Drake Hunter’s career.
I find myself walking near a river, walking past a crowd of people with my hooded jacket over my head, conceiling my face from the light of day.
Oh how I loved the smell of fresh air infected with bird shit in the morning. So ... reminiscent of my grandfather. He owned a boat. I still remember him teaching me how to fish, whilst seagulls flew over him and shat on the back of his bald head. Ah, happy times. Times before “the incident” with Drake.
I don’t know why I keep bringing up bird shit, maybe I just like the smell of it. Which is a bit odd ... isn’t it?
I turn a corner away from the river, eventually turning a few more times as I carry on my trek to a very important place. After ten minutes I finally get to my destination, a small abandonned brick house with the windows smashed in and leafless trees growing wild amongst the grim house, a house that I could never imagine was a home ... unless I had knowledge of it before it became this way.
I did. I knew this place. It was very important to me. It was the birthplace of H4ck3r ... it was the place where I finally decided to take revenge on Drake Hunter A.K.A. Alexander Krossa and end his career. I had been having personal problems with someone I cared very dearly about, I stormed off and found this place, laying in the middle of nowhere with a grim look it it, similar to myself and the emotions I was feeling in that moment in time. I entered the house ... and I changed.
I became H4ck3r ... a side of me that had been locked away for so very very long, a side of me that had grown into it’s own personality, a personality that had been wanting revenge for as logn as I’ve tried to keep my anger in check. Another personality, the embodiment of all that is bad about me, wrapped in what I now believe to be rightful revenge. Drake ruined my life, now I ... or rather “H4ck3r” must ruin his.
When I left this house and returned home, I felt like there was a voice in the back of my head, telling me to do all the evil things I had wanted to do for so long now. “Hurt her!” “Take revenge!” “Do this!” “Do that!”. Eventually the voices engulfed my own thoughts ... and now we have merged. I have learned to be both myself and H4ck3r but I always have this feeling that I am capable of doing evil things. I have this feeling that what I do to Drake makes me look more evil.
I’m NOT evil ... people just don’t know my side of the story. People don’t tend to relate with the “weirdos who wear masks” like myself, Stytch and Olympia. I admire any man that isn’t stupid enough to go to war without a helmet, kudos to Stytch and Olympia for their tributes to the ancient warriors of the past, who unlike the “geniuses” in NYCCW, wore helmets to protect their skulls from being crushed by the steel axes of monsterous beings and extremely legendary warriors of the colluseum. Kudos indeed.
I take a matchbox out from my left pocket, pull out the box inside and take out one of the many matches within. I hold the tiny little almost invisible-to-the-naked-eye match and strike it against the side of the matchbox, enlighting a flame that glows every so slightly in the distance, like a firefly wandering about in my third-favourite country in the world, Canada. I thrown the match through one of the many destroyed windows and walk away ever so slowly as the entire abandonned house begins to burn, flames arising from every corner, engulfing the house and any homeless guy unlucky enough to have been sleeping within it. I watch it burn for five minutes before I begin to hear firetrucks coming from a few blocks away.
I escape the scene, dumping the matchbox into the nearest dumpster I can find and wandering off
I say one last thing before I exit the street completely.
H4ck3r
“Electra was right, I have to move on and face Drake face to face, without the mask, like adults ... but for now, let me have my fun. Next stop, Metallica Evans.”
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Episode 3: “Join Me”
Last time I lurked in the shadows, me and Metallica had a little “play time” but now, I wish to speak with her, connect with her, connect with someone that will be able to see my pain, hear my story and be my saviour from becoming completely alone. I’m starting to believe in the thigns that others say about me, I need to confide in someone all my emotions, my story and perhaps my identity.
I had hoped Electra would be a little less “attacky” but ... she proved to just be an angry poor slut that thinks it’s okay to attack somebody just because other people think they’re a bad guy. Thanks for attacking me, now I’ll be going after your friends instead, Electra.
I know Metallica will be coming this way, it’s her short cut back home to her old hotel, which is also coincidentally the short cut to her new hotel, just with another turning at the end of this dark alleyway. I pull my hood up tighter and wait in the alley as Metallica comes out of the NYCCW HQ with a tall built-up looking bald man that seemed to be her friend of some sort, perhaps an ex boyfriend or a current boyfriend? Hmm and here I thought she was more into girls.
As soon as Metallica and her “man” came through the alley way, I hit the man with Metallica across the head with a brick and held Metallica in a cobra clutch, placing a rag dought with chloroform onto her mouth and holding her tight, forcing her to breathe in the chemical. It did not act as fast as movies make it out to be, I was expecting her to be knocked out within the first few moments. It took me two minutes to get Mets to pass out. I was careful not to use too much as this stuff CAN kill you if you enhale too much. Lucky for Mets, I’m pretty well versed with medical jargan. I’m not a doctor or anything, I just find medical science interesting and brilliant.
When Metallica finally awoke from her slumber, I was sat behind her, crossing my legs and waiting for the chloroform to wear off and for Metallica to awake with the aid of smelling sauce. I had taken her back to my lair, leaving her “man" knocked out in a dark alley way and placing Mets in a chair just in front of the elevator in the center of the room. As soon as she awoke, she tried to scream for help but found that the tape around her mouth was much more effective than she had first thought.
She tried moving her lips to talk but I had taped her jaw shut too, can never be too carefull when you’re doing this sort of thing. She tried to pull away, get up and move ... but she found that I had too precautions, taping her wrists and ankles to the wooden chair she was sat on, along with using bungee rope to tie her up even more. I couldn’t see her face ... but I could tell she was scared. I began to speak, catching her offguard. She jumps at first ... but soon settles into me being there.
H4ck3r
“Do not try to talk, I have taped your mouth and jaw shut to avoid any screaming. I’m more of the “be quiet and I won’t hurt you” kind of kidnapper.”
A squeal came form Mets, I simply smirk under my hood. I was not wearing my normal H4ck3r attire, mostly because I didn’t have time to change before Mets started to woke up. Instead I simply decided to sit or stand behind her wearing my normal clothes, not allowing her to see me.
H4ck3r
“Do not try to move, your wrist and ankles are tied to the chair. If you try to move, you could hurt yourself. Please do not move.”
As soon as I ended the sentence, Mets tried to move. I placed my hands on her shoulders, pushing the chair down and stopping her move as I began to speak again.
H4ck3r
“I told you. DON’T MOVE!”
Another squeak came from Mets. I quite enjoyed the sound, actually.
I walk over to a cupboard just out of Metallica’s view and grabbed my trusty black tape again. I ripped a piece off about as big as my hand and pulled back Metallica’s messy hair, placing the tape across her eyes. Stopping her from being able to see what is going on. I step in front of her and begin to talk once more.
H4ck3r
“Listen, don’t be scared. I have covered your eyes to protect my identity ... now, if I remove the tape from your mouth and jaw, will you scream?”
Metallica nods, signifying a no.
I begin to peel off the tape. I had cleverly placed it so that I would be able to just pull the entire thing off without having to pull each individual pieces of tape. Metallica yells in pain as I rip off the tape. Apparantly that had hurt her.
H4ck3r
“Are you o-”
Before I could continue the sentence, she screams out for help. In my anger I raise my fist and punch her in the face, knocking her over onto her side, still attached to the chair. I think about apologising and pulling her up, but I second guess myself and decide not to do it, rather leaving her there crying.
Metallica
“What do you want!”
H4ck3r
“A friend.”
Metallica
“You don’t punc friends, you fucking shitfaced wanker!”
H4ck3r
“Hmmm, well I did tel lyou not to scream.”
A moment of silence passes.
Metallica
“I ... I promise not to scream ... but ... what are you going to do to me?”
I walk over to Mets and pull her up so that she is sat right.
Metallica
“If you want money, I don’t have any, I left it at the appartment.”
H4ck3r
“I don’t want your money.”
Metallica
“If you want ... me ... then ... please ... just make it quick (sniff)”
H4ck3r
“I do want you ... but not like that.”
Metallica
“Just tell me what you want and let me go!”
H4ck3r
“I wanna tell you a story ... a story about Drake Hunter and myself.”
Metallica
“Wait ... H4ck3r ... is that you?”
H4ck3r
“Yes. So ... let me tell you the story.”
Metallica nods very nervously.
SECTION CORRUPTED, VIRUS DETECTED, RECOMMEND SHUTTING DOWN COMPUTER.
(A considerable amount of time later ...)
Metallica
“So ... you’re ... the good guy?”
H4ck3r
“Correct. I’ve tried to tell people ... but nobody listens.”
Metallica
“H4ck3r ... or whoever you are ... I believe in your story ... what happened was horrible and I get why you’re mad ... but ... why tell me?”
H4ck3r
“Honestly? Because you are very tollerant. Just look at how long you’ve tollerated Rye sponging off of you.”
Metallica
“True ...”
H4ck3r
“So ... can I count on you to help me out with my revenge?”
Metallica
“Yes ... I’m sorry for judging before I knew the whole story.”
H4ck3r
“It’s fine. Just tell her to go to www.Pornhub.com/Cockadile-Dundee and put this into her computer, it’ll allow me to monitor her activity much easier.”
I pass the untied Metallica a memory stick and remove the tape from her eyes, revealing myself wearing the H4ck3r mask.
Metallica begins to leave, looking a bit nervous ... until she turns around, smirks and says the following:
Metallica
“... but who are you?”
I smirk underneath the paintball mask, pull back my hood and remove the mask, revealing my true identity to Metallica Evans. She is the first individual I have ever revealed myself to.
Metallica is shocked at first but soon smiles.
Metallica
“I fucking knew it was you!”
She continues into the elevator, waving goodbye as I brush my hair back and hope that she doesn’t just go straight to Electra and tell her who I was. I hope I can trust her. She now knows where my lair is, what I look like and why I do what I do ...
... but you know what they say, right? Got to take a leap of faith sometimes.
Leap of Faith ...
END
The video fuzzed in, showing close-up clips of my eyes, my mouth and the no-signal TV colour thing that often appeared during my hacking of youtube accounts, titantrons and even NYCCW’s TV station TNN. I tilt my camera slightly as it finally ends the transition from the unsecure static of my hacking to the normal HD quality of my camera. The camera was suspended atop something considerably higher than the floor, it was out of the camera’s view but I had actually used a part of my desk to place the camera in an adequate position, showing the viewer both myself, clad in the paintball mask, hoodie and armour I normally wore as well as my “lair”.
My lair was more of an unused unliveable room that was stationed somewhere in New York City. From the look of the building it seems that it was not intended for residential purposes but instead seems to be built for storage purposes or possibly a warehouse, however I had furnished it for living purposes, amongst the aid in me keeping my secret identity and H4ck3r identity seperated.
The apartment is accessed by a lift in the centre of the room and has a ceiling fitted entirely of lights most likely inspired from Bruce Wayne's tempory base in The Dark Knight. This building is not my residence, rather my base of opporations, a place where I can continue my H4ck3r activities without disturbing my “other self’s” life.
The walls are full of photographs of key points in Drake Hunter’s life and also contains several clocks that counted down to major events that I was planning to make become a reality. Finally I began to talk, continuing my use of the voice changer that dramatically lowered my own voice, making my voice sound almost unrecognizable.
H4ck3r
“Hello once again NYCCW universe. It’s been quite a while.” I introduce myself as I lean against the elevator in the middle of the room.
H4ck3r
“I tried to save her, I really did. I try to reason with her, tell her what Drake did to make me do all this and eventually, hopefully reveal who I really am ... but instead she jumps at me like a complete lunatic and forced me to defend myself, great job, Electra, great job.”
I remove my hood from my head, pulling it back and revealing medium length brown hair that dangles down onto the mask.
H4ck3r
“Everywhere I go, I’m depicted as being the villain, the bad guy, the source of all evil. So I’m only going to say this one more time for you complete twonking idiots out there who can’t get a grasp of what a hero or villain really is. I. Am. Not. A. Bad. Guy. Okay!”
I turn around and punch the wall around the elevator, actually cracking the wall slightly.
H4ck3r
“I’m tired of lurking in the shadows, watching, waiting and stalking. I’m done waiting for my chance to end Drake’s career. I’m tired of tearing away any sluts idiotic enough to fall into his trap, A.K.A. his pants.”
I pull my hair back and pull the hood forward, also checking my armour to see if it had been damaged from the fight earlier. Nope, this armour is extremely tough.
H4ck3r
“So, little miss “I flirt with everybody”, I will leave you be for the time being. Attacking somone who’s trying to save you? You don’t deserve to be saved. Especially not by me. I hope Drake does to you what he did to me.”
I walk up to my camera, picking it up with my right hand and carrying it around the building, pointing it at my mask.
H4ck3r
“Let me tell you a story, Electra. Once upon a time ... there was a beautiful princess, everybody loved her ... but then one day “the black knight” in shining armour appeared from nowhere and vanquished the man known as Alexander Krossa. That’s when it was revealed that Alexander was a demon all along, seducing women and stealing their souls. I’m the hero. I’m the good guy. You’ll see, Electra ... and when you do eventually see what a “demon” “Drake” is ... I won’t say “I told you so” ... I’ll just offer you a hug. Why? Because I’m actually a nice guy.”
I walk a perfect circle around the elevator by the time I finish the story, eventually placing the camera right back where it was, suspended atop my desk.
H4ck3r
“Electra, you refuse to listen to me, too obsessed with trying to have sexual relations with pretty much any man you meet ... so ... let’s just say that by the time this video is uploaded ... you’ll be wondering where your room-mate has wandered off to. See you soon, little girl.”
I reach out my arm to turn off the camera but I am distracted by my phone ringing the song “In the house in a heartbeat”, indicating I had a call coming through from one of my contacts. I pull the phone from out of one of my many pockets and lift it to my ear, listening to what this individual had to say. I turn around, remove my mask and speak without my voice changer. I was far enough away from the camera so that it would not capture my actual voice. Subtitles, added in by the people who I sent the tape, was shown bellow.
H4ck3r (subtitled)
“Hello? Yes. Yes. No, she’s got it. Yeah. Uh huh. Yeah. Erm, late. Yeah. Love you too.”
I hang up on who was calling, walk up to the desk and place the phone onto it and begin to remove my hood, pressing the camera off as I unzipped the hoodie underneath the armour.
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Episode 2: “Wandering, conceptualizing, sitting there waiting.”
It had been mere minutes before I had recorded my newest video. I had been planning to send it to the NYCCW Headquaters and place it somewhere where somebody important world find it and watch it, uploading it to youtube for the world to see me in my full glory.
I had already placed the DVD somewhere very public, using Drake’s missing keycard to get into the building undetected and place the DVD amongst one of the busiest parts of the building. I had already lost several more, some idiot seems to be taking the DVD’s and putting them in the trash.
I was free to do whatever I wish for a couple of hours. I could send Drake a nasty virus, I could stalk Electra ... or maybe I’ll have another “play date” with Metallica Evans? It’s been quite a while since me and her last spoke. The last time we saw each other, I threatened her in the women’s toilets and later threatened her on the streets, in a dark alley way. I could see the look in her eyes. She wasn’t scared. She was impressed. She had to be.
I remember feeling her warm breath on my hands as I pushed her to the wall, she cried, began to breath heavily and begged me not to hurt her. I didn’t wish to hurt her. I don’t hurt women, at least not unless a woman attacks me, that’s called self-defence. Once again, I find myself thinking about Electra when I should be focussing on Metallica, she’s the one I’m after.
Metallica always acts as the tough irish drinking girl that has an easy-going lifestyle and loves to have fun. I know who she really is. I know she’s a bisexual nerd who has mental problems and has a secret belief that everybody hates her. I even know about her days before the travelling circus, she was a belly dancer. A good one, in fact. I believe I watched her once before, before this whole “H4ck3r” personality got into the public eye. Best birthday party ever with a young Metallica dancing for me. Still, it surprises me she didn’t recognise me. I haven’t changed that much. Except for you know, like, wearing a costume and jumping about on rooftops hacking into people’s accounts and stuff.
Ah, Metallica Evans, the Harley Quinn to my Joker. Ah, what a beauty she was. Shame I can never act upon my attraction to her. Metallica, I do hope I can pursuade you into joining my cause. That’s the plan, get the girl, get my revenge, end Drake Hunter’s career.
I find myself walking near a river, walking past a crowd of people with my hooded jacket over my head, conceiling my face from the light of day.
Oh how I loved the smell of fresh air infected with bird shit in the morning. So ... reminiscent of my grandfather. He owned a boat. I still remember him teaching me how to fish, whilst seagulls flew over him and shat on the back of his bald head. Ah, happy times. Times before “the incident” with Drake.
I don’t know why I keep bringing up bird shit, maybe I just like the smell of it. Which is a bit odd ... isn’t it?
I turn a corner away from the river, eventually turning a few more times as I carry on my trek to a very important place. After ten minutes I finally get to my destination, a small abandonned brick house with the windows smashed in and leafless trees growing wild amongst the grim house, a house that I could never imagine was a home ... unless I had knowledge of it before it became this way.
I did. I knew this place. It was very important to me. It was the birthplace of H4ck3r ... it was the place where I finally decided to take revenge on Drake Hunter A.K.A. Alexander Krossa and end his career. I had been having personal problems with someone I cared very dearly about, I stormed off and found this place, laying in the middle of nowhere with a grim look it it, similar to myself and the emotions I was feeling in that moment in time. I entered the house ... and I changed.
I became H4ck3r ... a side of me that had been locked away for so very very long, a side of me that had grown into it’s own personality, a personality that had been wanting revenge for as logn as I’ve tried to keep my anger in check. Another personality, the embodiment of all that is bad about me, wrapped in what I now believe to be rightful revenge. Drake ruined my life, now I ... or rather “H4ck3r” must ruin his.
When I left this house and returned home, I felt like there was a voice in the back of my head, telling me to do all the evil things I had wanted to do for so long now. “Hurt her!” “Take revenge!” “Do this!” “Do that!”. Eventually the voices engulfed my own thoughts ... and now we have merged. I have learned to be both myself and H4ck3r but I always have this feeling that I am capable of doing evil things. I have this feeling that what I do to Drake makes me look more evil.
I’m NOT evil ... people just don’t know my side of the story. People don’t tend to relate with the “weirdos who wear masks” like myself, Stytch and Olympia. I admire any man that isn’t stupid enough to go to war without a helmet, kudos to Stytch and Olympia for their tributes to the ancient warriors of the past, who unlike the “geniuses” in NYCCW, wore helmets to protect their skulls from being crushed by the steel axes of monsterous beings and extremely legendary warriors of the colluseum. Kudos indeed.
I take a matchbox out from my left pocket, pull out the box inside and take out one of the many matches within. I hold the tiny little almost invisible-to-the-naked-eye match and strike it against the side of the matchbox, enlighting a flame that glows every so slightly in the distance, like a firefly wandering about in my third-favourite country in the world, Canada. I thrown the match through one of the many destroyed windows and walk away ever so slowly as the entire abandonned house begins to burn, flames arising from every corner, engulfing the house and any homeless guy unlucky enough to have been sleeping within it. I watch it burn for five minutes before I begin to hear firetrucks coming from a few blocks away.
I escape the scene, dumping the matchbox into the nearest dumpster I can find and wandering off
I say one last thing before I exit the street completely.
H4ck3r
“Electra was right, I have to move on and face Drake face to face, without the mask, like adults ... but for now, let me have my fun. Next stop, Metallica Evans.”
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Episode 3: “Join Me”
Last time I lurked in the shadows, me and Metallica had a little “play time” but now, I wish to speak with her, connect with her, connect with someone that will be able to see my pain, hear my story and be my saviour from becoming completely alone. I’m starting to believe in the thigns that others say about me, I need to confide in someone all my emotions, my story and perhaps my identity.
I had hoped Electra would be a little less “attacky” but ... she proved to just be an angry poor slut that thinks it’s okay to attack somebody just because other people think they’re a bad guy. Thanks for attacking me, now I’ll be going after your friends instead, Electra.
I know Metallica will be coming this way, it’s her short cut back home to her old hotel, which is also coincidentally the short cut to her new hotel, just with another turning at the end of this dark alleyway. I pull my hood up tighter and wait in the alley as Metallica comes out of the NYCCW HQ with a tall built-up looking bald man that seemed to be her friend of some sort, perhaps an ex boyfriend or a current boyfriend? Hmm and here I thought she was more into girls.
As soon as Metallica and her “man” came through the alley way, I hit the man with Metallica across the head with a brick and held Metallica in a cobra clutch, placing a rag dought with chloroform onto her mouth and holding her tight, forcing her to breathe in the chemical. It did not act as fast as movies make it out to be, I was expecting her to be knocked out within the first few moments. It took me two minutes to get Mets to pass out. I was careful not to use too much as this stuff CAN kill you if you enhale too much. Lucky for Mets, I’m pretty well versed with medical jargan. I’m not a doctor or anything, I just find medical science interesting and brilliant.
When Metallica finally awoke from her slumber, I was sat behind her, crossing my legs and waiting for the chloroform to wear off and for Metallica to awake with the aid of smelling sauce. I had taken her back to my lair, leaving her “man" knocked out in a dark alley way and placing Mets in a chair just in front of the elevator in the center of the room. As soon as she awoke, she tried to scream for help but found that the tape around her mouth was much more effective than she had first thought.
She tried moving her lips to talk but I had taped her jaw shut too, can never be too carefull when you’re doing this sort of thing. She tried to pull away, get up and move ... but she found that I had too precautions, taping her wrists and ankles to the wooden chair she was sat on, along with using bungee rope to tie her up even more. I couldn’t see her face ... but I could tell she was scared. I began to speak, catching her offguard. She jumps at first ... but soon settles into me being there.
H4ck3r
“Do not try to talk, I have taped your mouth and jaw shut to avoid any screaming. I’m more of the “be quiet and I won’t hurt you” kind of kidnapper.”
A squeal came form Mets, I simply smirk under my hood. I was not wearing my normal H4ck3r attire, mostly because I didn’t have time to change before Mets started to woke up. Instead I simply decided to sit or stand behind her wearing my normal clothes, not allowing her to see me.
H4ck3r
“Do not try to move, your wrist and ankles are tied to the chair. If you try to move, you could hurt yourself. Please do not move.”
As soon as I ended the sentence, Mets tried to move. I placed my hands on her shoulders, pushing the chair down and stopping her move as I began to speak again.
H4ck3r
“I told you. DON’T MOVE!”
Another squeak came from Mets. I quite enjoyed the sound, actually.
I walk over to a cupboard just out of Metallica’s view and grabbed my trusty black tape again. I ripped a piece off about as big as my hand and pulled back Metallica’s messy hair, placing the tape across her eyes. Stopping her from being able to see what is going on. I step in front of her and begin to talk once more.
H4ck3r
“Listen, don’t be scared. I have covered your eyes to protect my identity ... now, if I remove the tape from your mouth and jaw, will you scream?”
Metallica nods, signifying a no.
I begin to peel off the tape. I had cleverly placed it so that I would be able to just pull the entire thing off without having to pull each individual pieces of tape. Metallica yells in pain as I rip off the tape. Apparantly that had hurt her.
H4ck3r
“Are you o-”
Before I could continue the sentence, she screams out for help. In my anger I raise my fist and punch her in the face, knocking her over onto her side, still attached to the chair. I think about apologising and pulling her up, but I second guess myself and decide not to do it, rather leaving her there crying.
Metallica
“What do you want!”
H4ck3r
“A friend.”
Metallica
“You don’t punc friends, you fucking shitfaced wanker!”
H4ck3r
“Hmmm, well I did tel lyou not to scream.”
A moment of silence passes.
Metallica
“I ... I promise not to scream ... but ... what are you going to do to me?”
I walk over to Mets and pull her up so that she is sat right.
Metallica
“If you want money, I don’t have any, I left it at the appartment.”
H4ck3r
“I don’t want your money.”
Metallica
“If you want ... me ... then ... please ... just make it quick (sniff)”
H4ck3r
“I do want you ... but not like that.”
Metallica
“Just tell me what you want and let me go!”
H4ck3r
“I wanna tell you a story ... a story about Drake Hunter and myself.”
Metallica
“Wait ... H4ck3r ... is that you?”
H4ck3r
“Yes. So ... let me tell you the story.”
Metallica nods very nervously.
SECTION CORRUPTED, VIRUS DETECTED, RECOMMEND SHUTTING DOWN COMPUTER.
(A considerable amount of time later ...)
Metallica
“So ... you’re ... the good guy?”
H4ck3r
“Correct. I’ve tried to tell people ... but nobody listens.”
Metallica
“H4ck3r ... or whoever you are ... I believe in your story ... what happened was horrible and I get why you’re mad ... but ... why tell me?”
H4ck3r
“Honestly? Because you are very tollerant. Just look at how long you’ve tollerated Rye sponging off of you.”
Metallica
“True ...”
H4ck3r
“So ... can I count on you to help me out with my revenge?”
Metallica
“Yes ... I’m sorry for judging before I knew the whole story.”
H4ck3r
“It’s fine. Just tell her to go to www.Pornhub.com/Cockadile-Dundee and put this into her computer, it’ll allow me to monitor her activity much easier.”
I pass the untied Metallica a memory stick and remove the tape from her eyes, revealing myself wearing the H4ck3r mask.
Metallica begins to leave, looking a bit nervous ... until she turns around, smirks and says the following:
Metallica
“... but who are you?”
I smirk underneath the paintball mask, pull back my hood and remove the mask, revealing my true identity to Metallica Evans. She is the first individual I have ever revealed myself to.
Metallica is shocked at first but soon smiles.
Metallica
“I fucking knew it was you!”
She continues into the elevator, waving goodbye as I brush my hair back and hope that she doesn’t just go straight to Electra and tell her who I was. I hope I can trust her. She now knows where my lair is, what I look like and why I do what I do ...
... but you know what they say, right? Got to take a leap of faith sometimes.
Leap of Faith ...
END