#1 Posted by Sicarius_ (643 posts) - - Show Bio

A Week Ago-Middle of Nowhere

Paradise had finally been complete and Victor was out in the real world, no longer protected in his own world of Paradise. He was alone and he had a single thing in mind, finding the source of a yearning at the back of his mind. Since he had become Sicarius their was something connecting him to this Earth, a single reverb that bounced around in his mind. Most importantly it was a urge to go out and bring those who work hard at being those others don’t want. One voice spoke louder than the others, Victor was connected to nearly everyone around him telepathically, and upon entering the United States a single voice called out, begging for someone to come and entertain it. The person behind the voice may not even know they are calling out, but Victor heard loud and clear. Another voice screamed to him, but that was only when he was near the newly formed Grimm City. A matter to be looked into on another day, now he stood outside a small home. The rain pelting his long grey gown, onlookers couldn’t help but stare at him. A small town made being an outsider very hard, especially when Victor wanted to not be noticed. Cursing at the fact he followed the voice into such a small town, he stepped forward and knocked on the door.

A scuffle could be heard inside followed by a loud thud, the sounds of shoes trying to grip a tiled floor echo out through the door. A smirk comes to Victor’s face as he waits patiently, slowly the door opens and a beautiful woman peeks out the crack she left while opening the door. “Uh...Yes?” Victor smiled wide at her eyes, they were bright and vibrant. He held his hand out an she closed the door slightly as he spoke “I have been searching for you, heard your voice calling out to me I wish to-” Suddenly the door slams in his face and he can hear the woman running out the back. Disappearing into the shadows and reappearing outside the back door it opened fast as she came to a skidding stop “Alright maybe that came off a bit odd...” She turned leaving the door open and ran. Victor sighed and disappeared reappearing inside the house, and around the corner of where the woman was running he barked loudly “Why are you running?!” She stopped breathing slightly heavier than earlier. She looked him up an down panting “You arnt?” He cut her off “No...I came here to offer you something.” Her attitude made an 180 and her body posture was more relaxed “Then why the hell did you start off with the rapist speech?” She turned her back to him walking into the dining room of the mighty house, grabbing a glass she poured herself some wine “You had me thinking you either were here to kill me, or my husband dragging me into yet another fiendish plot. Sometimes a lady needs some alone time", she says licking her lips flirtatiously. A muffled scream can be heard from a nearby closet. She walks over and opens it yelling “Give me ten minutes!!! Then you can have your home back!!” She turned to Victor with a smile “Some people!”.

She had obviously taken control of the house, putting its tenants in the closet while she feasted. She plopped into a table chair and putting her feet up on the table she asked bluntly “So what you want from me Mr. Rapist?” Victor groaned at his new nickname “My name is Victor, Clara was it?” Her body tensed as he said her name, she glared at him “Your a telepath arnt you? You know its very rude entering somebodies mind without asking?” Victor nodded and smiled “I apologize, from now on I will ask before I do it. But onto what I came here for..” Again she cut him off, and it was becoming more than a bit irritating to Victor. “Dont give me the bullsh!t speech either. I can tell when people are lying to me. And I prefer not to dirty these new shoes by shoving them up your ass.” He looked to her confused and continued “Well seems I do not need to go out of my way to fool you. You want the real reason huh? Fine I have created a single place for all the Evil in the world. A place to hold all the worlds most vile and repulsive creatures and humans in this world.” She stopped him “Why?” He growled slightly at her interruption “Because we are a dying breed Clara. Many say they are Evil, yet they wouldn’t know true evil if it bit them on the ass. Hell most don’t even know that Lucifer isn’t the ONLY Devil in this universe. I hope to gain a place for everyone to live and prosper. I-” She tossed her fork at him and it slammed into the wood of his chair “I said no bullsh!t...” He smirked at her knowing full well that speech wasn’t going to work “Fine Clara, I am building a Paradise to house those Evil in the world and teach them. Whilst at the same time building an army to wipe all those smug heroes off their high horses. Is that more real for you? Is that enough for you, is that enough of information to give you an idea of what I came here for?” Victor was slightly irritated at how many times she had interrupted him. She shrugged and took a bite of an apple “Don’t really care, long as you give me my space. And I have the biggest closet, and I'm following so long as I get answers upon reaching our destination because I'd hate to be a lost lass following her would be rapist blindly" her serpent tongue already giving hints of a certain deviousness. Victor looked to her with disbelief, she truly was the constantly in flux being he had found with her voice. His heart skipped a bit as he stared at her, shaking the feeling he sat up straight and took his jaw off the table. Standing up he opened the front door with his mind and gestured for her to walk out first “Lets get going then, seems your little marathon through the house got someone’s attention. Anyone you wish to bring with you?” She shook her head grabbing an umbrella “Nah, impervious Impero will find me when he needs to. Until than I suppose we can play”, she winks playfully before walking out the doors. And so it seemed she'd be the voice to watch out for.

That Same Week-Grimm City

After returning to the United States after bringing Clara to Paradise, Victor had a run in with a man named Flucks. During his meeting the two showed off each of their own powers, showing that neither would back down. Upon bringing in the Demon Five, Flucks attitude had changed from confrontational to curious. He wanted to know who this tall and almost ghostly white man was, he saw Victor as a man tall and muscular. Something different than Clara, she had seen an oddly attractive yet unattractive quality to him. She had told him his appearance changed everyday, that his powers were working in overdrive to hide his true self. This time was the opposite, Flucks had seen his true appearance and found it entertaining.

The two now sit opposite of each other, in the middle of an empty bar. Flucks had two extravagant guns holstered to his waist. One on either side of him he let his fingers trail the details of each gun as he sat staring at Victor. A server came to there table, trembling in fear as she set down two drinks. Victor took a swig of his and Flucks slowly sipped on his, the two never taking there eyes off each other. Finally Victor spoke “So how long you going to keep me in the dark?” Flucks replied with a swift tongue “Long as you, keep me from da prize. You keep tellin meh that you have something powerful. So show me your toys, cuz as of right now. I have seen betteh things in dumpsters mahne.” Victor rolled his eyes and held out his hand, from his sleeve rolled a small device. It flattened and then shot out a ray of light, this ray of light shimmered and then disappeared as Victor paused. “Can we get rid of the audience we have garnered?” Flucks eyes rose then he un-holstered one of his guns. “Fwip fwit fwoot” The gun fired three times, and three men were dead “Don’t worry, worked for a rival. Been meaning to kill deez chumps for weeks, now onto the show.” Victor smiled waving the waitress the leave, she did so quickly and the door slammed shut.

Revealing his palm the light flickered on again, showing Paradise in its full glory. And as the tour of his wondrous city ended, the Underground was shown. “In my Underground, you can develop anything you need. Whether its drugs, money laundering, or even weapons its all yours to use at your command.” Flucks looked wide eyed at the vastness of what he was being shown. Then quickly looked to Victor “And the catch? An don’t tell me there’s no catch, I’m not an idiot. I know when an offer is too good to be true.” Victor smiled and replied even as fast as Flucks had asked the question “Your service, and your towns underground dwellings. As we discussed yesterday, All I wish is for you and your people to be one with mine. Every once in a while we take a few of your street urchins and experiment or feed on them. And in return you gain all the wealth you need.” Flucks stared at Victor for a few moments then spoke bluntly much like Clara had “Fine, but I aint no ones bitch. I do what I want when I want it, and no peeking around in my head without asking.” Victor smiled wide and shut the projection off. “Lets get you too your new room shall we, plus some local beauties have been hearing about you and wish to show you how big of fans they are of you.” Flucks smiled and the two left the bar.

Now Within Paradise

The three sat around a large table, large enough to hold three times as much people. But now its nearly empty only Clara, Flucks and Victor sit at the monumental table. Victor slid Clara a folio holding names and addresses of two dozen people. People who would either benefit from coming to Paradise and becoming one of F.E.A.R or those he wished to be students. “Find them, and bring them here. Use whatever you need to to get them here, We need to show our Paradise that we bring only those willing to protect them. An I have entrusted that into you Clarice, Flucks will stay behind and welcome each to Paradise. Bringing only those who will be joining us in this room here in the Underground directly here. The others will be escorted to the Plateau, now lets go. I have a large speech to write, I want these ones back here as soon as possible.

#2 Posted by .Ajax. (2484 posts) - - Show Bio

Superhuman Maximum Security Prison - Undisclosed location

He sat in the corner enveloped in total darkness, surrounded on all sides by smooth black walls. Not a ray a sunshine or gust of wind intruded into the deathly quite cell, it was like a coffin. All it would take is a single drop of water, a single ray of light to give his power back. This cell was designed specifically for him, and it was because of that that he sat there no stronger than a normal homo sapien in the empty, dank darkness. They were all afraid of him, not just the guards but the rest of the inmates; they told stories of him, as if he were a legend, a boogey man that lived in the basement of their steel and concrete home. Guards never ventured down to the level where that one single cell lay, devoted completely and utterly to him.

It was when one of the many locks on the vault-like door unlocked, creating a metallic clang that made him lift his head. His black, greasy oily hair draping down over his forehead as if it were tar oozing down over his skull. But those green eyes, they pierced and cut through the darkness, they showed no fear, no pity, no remorse. The rest of the locks slide aside, and he rose up in the corner. His olive green skin dirty, and blackened...he had been there he was now nearly darkness itself. The door opened just enough for a single person to enter into his cell, and standing there in the doorway he could see a tall slender figure, with long flowing hair. It was a woman. She strutted into the cell with confidence, showing no signs of fear and stopped a few feet from him. He attempted to make out her features and possibly figure out who it was but the darkness was concealing her, as it did to him for so long. It concealed him as if he would never see the light of day again, as if the world had totally forgotten about him.

She spoke with a soft and melodious voice, "Hello Ajax, my name is Clara Mass. We've seen what you can do and we believe your abilities are quite extraordinary and we'd love for you to join us in a Paradise. A place where villains from all over can come and join together." Ajax hesitated for a slight second but responded, "Am I supposed to know who you are? It all sounds like a hoax but for some reason I think your telling the truth." Ajax paused again; he wanted out of this place, he craved the feeling of sunlight striking against his olive skin again like spheres against shields. He knew it was an opportunity he could not turn down so he continued, "Count me in. How do you plan on getting me out of here, I don't think I exactly qualify for good behaviour." Clara threw him a bottle of water, turned to walk away and said over her shoulder, "Have your fun than meet us in Paradise." with a smirk on her face and exited the dark abyss of a cell.

Ajax smirked as well and frantically tore the lid of the plastic battle and let water run down over his head. The feeling that ran through his body the minute the first droplet touched his head was exhilarating. His heart began beating harder and harder, going faster and faster. He groaned, dropped to his knee's and threw his arms out to shoulder height and let out a deafening roar. His muscles stretched, bones cracked, veines popped as he grew to great proportions and in seconds his power was back. Ajax was back.

He ran at the cell door with incredibly speed, throwing his entire bodyweight at the thick piece of steel that would no longer restrain him. The door fired off the hinges as if they were made of plastic, caught the guards standing in front of it completely by surprise and sandwiched them against the parallel wall. Ajax moved out into the hall and looked side to side, he had been in that cursed cell so long that he could not remember how to get out. He had to get out quick, water was only a stimulant to him and would not last a great deal of time. He glanced up, than squatted and with tremendous power jumped straight through the ceiling leaving giant foot prints in the floor. Guards fired upon him as he went up level after level, but he did not have time for their foolishness. Their weapons were as good as spit wads, the bullets just colliding with his dense skin and falling to the ground and giving no injury whatsoever.

Ajax broke through the final level and landed on the roof to find the prison at high alert, the protocol they were following was specifically created for Ajax alone. Helicopters circled around, three tanks were in the courtyard below and men upon men armed with special stun rifles were everywhere. However none of this would matter, the sun was high in the sky and that was something the prison could not compete with and therefore they could not compete with Ajax. He now had his constant power source, he felt as if he were revived from the dead.

"RAAAGGGGHHHHHHH", Ajax yelled and every gun began to open fire. Bullets riddled off of Ajax's body, hot steaming rounds lay all around his feet. "I'd love to stay and have some fun, but there's some where I have to be!" With that he jumped with all of his super human strength and was clear of the prison and now on his way to Paradise.

#3 Posted by Ishin (6831 posts) - - Show Bio

Wilderness of Madeira, Portugal

Deadly Impero's political plans involving the small nation of Portugal have been exponentially accelerated, courtesy of the magical assistance provided by China's lovely empress, Sayomi Nakamura, better known as Charmix. This coupled with his own plan which employs countless unwilling sorcerers and witches to function as sleeper agents that eventually transition into rogue practitioners of magic in the supernaturally vulnerable country has ensured cunning Impero's steady rise to political power and influence over the European nation. "I'll join you soon Aisha. I am on my way with several Reapers, just keep the assault going!", the Death Reaper demanded, speaking into his mask's built-in communicator as he traversed the wilderness of the Portuguese archipelago known as Madeira. "And where is the Grand-Master?", Aisha asked, the Witch-Hunter lieutenant, curious in regards to the whereabouts of their organization's leader. "He's coming, stop worrying damn it! Just try and get the rest of our men into that mansion, we've dealt with this kind of thing before", the Death Reaper berated, "Don't forget that I am still your superior", Aisha reminded before ending their communication, focusing on continuing their assault on the mystically-protected mansion.

Having managed to collapse the several magical barriers protecting the aged mansion through the utilization of several powerful magic-negating agents, the witch hunters in attendance waited for the arrival of the Reapers before entering the mansion, opting to remain cautious. Upon the arrival of the Death Reapers and his band of elite Reapers, the increased number of witch hunters entered the mansion, cautiously maneuvering themselves inside the architecturally brilliant home, using the lack of light to their advantage. Soon however, they were assaulted by a group of novice sorcerers who the witch hunters were capable of making short work of. Unfortunately, the emergence of several master witches and sorcerers caused them problems, with only Aisha, the Death Reapers, and a good deal of the Reapers capable of holding their own against the combined assault of the expert witches. "It seems that you abominations need to be reminded of my power", a familiar, charming yet powerful and intimidating voice echoed throughout the mansion's spacious living room. "Ha! What kind of fool dares threaten us?!", one of the elderly sorcerers scoffed, laughing arrogantly, attempting to identify the source of the ominous voice. Calmly emerging from the darkness in the hallway behind the sorcerers, the Witch-Hunters' mysterious masked leader strode into the middle of the living room, his posture one of utter confidence and class. With his arms characteristically folded behind his back in a poised smug fashion, enigmatic Impero calmly turned round to face his magic-harnessing opponents. "I'm simply an aristocrat with a particular distaste for sorcerers", Impero taunted, the battle having paused abruptly, the fear briefly instilled by his symbolic mask in his opponents reminded them of all the witches that fell before him and his band of witch hunters.

"Enough!", one of the sorcerers shouted, shooting a deadly lightning bolt at the Witch-Hunters' charismatic leader. Swiftly jumping over the lightning bolt, aerially tilting his body away from the devastating attack, transitioning into a sideflip in an artistic display of peerless acrobatics and athleticism, Impero chuckled smugly as the lightning bolt shot clean through the mansion's entrance. Dashing towards his opponents, dodging and evading all long-ranged attacks directed towards him, The Genius quickly immobilized the first sorcerer with a rapid succession of quick jabs on both his opponent's arms, effectively blocking his flow and chi, having struck several mystical vital points, as well as reduced the man's muscular strength. Instantly paralyzing the sorcerer with a vicious chop directed towards a pressure point in the sorcerer's temple, Impero had rapidly transitioned from his Zuzhi martial art to his equally as deadly Letale Tactus fighting style. Quickly feeling the heat of an approaching fireball, deadly Impero nimbly rolled away from the attack, allowing it to incinerate the paralyzed sorcerer much to the horror of the two remaining witches. With hardly a second wasted after evading his opponents' latest attack, deadly Impero hurled twin adamantium kunai at one of the witches, both blades piercing into her lungs, ending her life. With only one more opponent remaining, Impero instead allowed his Reapers to overwhelm him with a simultaneous assault, boasting their talent as a fighting unit. Having rendered her paralysed, the Reapers held her on her knees for their leader to decide her fate. "Killing you would be quite simple. But I won't", Impero paused, calmly pulling out a syringe from his pocket. Mercilessly holding the defiant sorcerer by the throat, Impero taunted him as he twirled the syringe in his hand, it's contents still unknown. "Instead, I will take from you what you treasure the most. Your magic", and instantly, the masked enigma injected his victim with several powerful magic-negating agents contained within the syringe. Within twenty-four hours, the magic-negating agents will remain inside the sorcerer's body, continuously evolving until the sorcerer's eventual death.

Having cleansed Madeira of their rogue witches, Impero's political influence over Portugal increased even further, with many now suggesting that he take a political position in the country, believing him to be their true protector against above-average threats. After having delivered a charismatic speech in Madeira, Impero was visited by his vivacious fiancee, Clarice Zeraz. "Ah Clarice, you are as spontaneous as you are lovely", the cunning puppeteer greeted. "Always the charmer, aren't you Impervious Impero", the manipulative redhead replied. "There's a man named Victor who can help in our ascension to power. He said he's building some sort of paradise for evil. You see the potential in this don't you?", Clarice asked, smirking fiendishly, approaching Impero from behind, wrapping her arms around his waist as she placed her chin over his sculpted shoulder. Whispering alluringly, she continued, "Come with me to Paradise. This'll help us establish our future empire my fiancee". The poised assassin readily gave his answer, "Hmm.. interesting. Very well my dear, take me to this so called Paradise", Impero agreed, his witch hunters having left through the utilization of his teleportation-technology. Gently taking her fiancee's hand, Clarice teleported with him to Paradise.

#4 Edited by ThisIsGonnaHurt (29794 posts) - - Show Bio

400 years prior - 1562...

The Battle of Worcestershire: some historians call it military brilliance on the account of Knight-General Reginald Watts while others blame his victory on luck. After all, he had at his disposal 5,000 Englishmen ready to die for their country while his opponent led an army numbering only slightly more. They were, in mortal eyes, evenly matched. But what Watts had faced no longer had any mortal features to speak of. The man he fought at Worcestershire hailed from a province in Romania called Skellbrieg, and his name was Klovis Tepes Dracul the First, the man who brought the Ottoman Empire to its knees. Yet for all his great victories, Klovis had not planned for Watts to abuse the land itself. Worcestershire and every county leading to it had been stripped of any salvageable farmland and livestock. Klovis had even lost three supply ships in the initial beachhead assault. Tired and hungry, Klovis' army fought like wild animals - not men - and were butchered wholesale by Watts' disciplined battalions. By the end of the battle, Watts ordered Klovis to be beheaded along with his lieutenants and other commanding officers. 

This moment in history is sketchy, but eye-witnesses reported to have seen Klovis open his mouth as if to say something, but instead he extended his tongue to begin licking the still-warm blood off the surface of the executioner's chopping block. Watts gave him the opportunity for any last words. Klovis presumably smiled cruelly at the suggestion and cackled as the headsman's ax fell.

1962, Romania

"He spent his entire life fighting for the sake of killing. Even after the Battle of Worcestershire, he lived on. He found his head and reattached it to wage 400 more years of unholy terror on the world," Genesis said, admiring the shriveled corpse preserved in ice-lock in front of him.  
 
"Did you know that he was among Adolf Hitler's most trusted anatomists? He personally dissected over 1,000 Jews during the Holocaust. But he did not contribute the knowledge he had gathered about the human body to any university. He wanted it all for himself. Such a sick bastard," 
 
A moment of silence passed between Genesis and the scientist recording the vitals of the machine.  
 
"Well, let's thaw him out," 
 
With a simple press of a button, the machine whirred and hissed as hydraulic locks disengaged and warm air cooled and cracked the frosty din inside the iron tomb. Genesis had already broken the magic seals keeping the sarcophagus cold. Sheets of ice fell to and broke against the floor. The iron door cascaded down with a block of ice that smashed it into a dozen pieces because of age and temperature. The true nature of the corpse was revealed. A male body shape, his arms were crossed and his hands were twisted in an attempt to squeeze the life out of something. His face was twisted in a grimace, his teeth still alabaster white in the grey and wrinkled flesh of his face. His eye sockets were empty, but something existed within those pockets. Whether it was a swirling shadow or a bold energy creeping from within the core of the thing's skull could not be determined. Besides, Genesis had much wider goals than appreciating the decayed husk of a former king.  
 
"Klovis Tepes Dracul, nap time is over," he said as he drew a knife out of a scabbard on his belt.  
 
He raised his hand and cut deep into the flesh, drawing out as much blood as possible thanks to the serrated edge. He walked up to the corpse he had just now called Klovis and smeared the blood over his face and chest, most notably turning the tomb on a pivot and draining some of the vital fluid down the corpse's dried throat. Miraculously, sounds began to echo from within the husk. Muscles contracted deep within his esophagus and digestive tract. Old organs were coming back to life. Flesh that had not known movement for over fifty years cracked back into existence. Even his eyes, black as the void that spawned them, emerged from the dark mist smoking out of his head. Both of the corpse's hands shot up and grappled with the lip of the coffin, pulling him into an upright sitting position. Genesis healed his hand and casually dropped the knife with a clatter to the floor. He approached a wheezing and tired Klovis just as his skin appeared fuller and more moist than before. The man who had just a moment ago been dead coughed up a gout of half-melted snow from his lungs. He flung his legs over the coffin lid and slid out, trying desperately to keep his balance. 
 
"Easy there, Klovis. Magic might have died with the progression of technology, but that did not stop the snow magi from sealing you in that box and burying you in your own homeland, eh? Here, at least, your restless soul was provided a few decades of laxity before I came along," 
 
Klovis shook his head as if he were trying to be rid of a hangover.  
 
"This is the part where you thank me," Genesis said, keeping Klovis on his feet with a helping hand.  
 
"I...want more..." Klovis said weakly. 
 
"Of course," Genesis opened his hand and gestured toward his associate, who looked at his master with a mixture of confusion and terror.  
 
Before the scientist could protest, Klovis was upon him in an beastly hunger while going straight for the neck. He tore out half of it with one bite, lapping up what oozed out of the gaping wound like a greedy puppy. Genesis watched with a sly grin plastered on his face as Klovis devoured every last piece of the scientist down to the small droplets of blood he had splattered across the floor. The vampire lord looked up at Victor, now fully rejuvenated, and returned the man's smile.  
 
"And to what do I owe the pleasure of you freeing me from the curse of the snow magi?"  
 
Genesis placed a hang on the vampire's shoulder, looking him square in the eye.  
 
"I have plans, my friend. Plans for a new world with plenty of victims for you to eat, torture, and rape all day long. That's only a small part of it, but I'm sure it's the one you wanted to hear." 
 
Klovis mirrored the gesture, placing his hand on Genesis' shoulder in a display of agreement.  
 
"This new world...sounds like a paradise on Earth." 
#5 Edited by Rumble Man (11073 posts) - - Show Bio

Metahuman Fight Club, Parts Unknown

It was late at night, and a jade wall that helped reverberate the sound of a broken skull tells the time according to him. A shady figure sat alone with his elbows rested atop his knees, hunched on a metal bench inside of a public locker room as the many others have had already had their matches. Some of them barely left standing after their fight while others are mostly dead or better off living the last remaining moments of their days as cripples. The stakes are high but the risks are worth the reward, for him the risks themselves are the reward. People participate in this hurricane of blood and bone because there is supposedly a hefty money prize at the end of the event. That information is valid for every other combatant besides this one, the man who brushed aside the promoter at the press conference. Because for a fighting machine sealed within in human components all the money in the human world has less value than a warm clump of slurry feces dripping from the edge of a crack addict’s toilet seat. They might as well as take a dump on the prize money; it was the ‘fight’ that he sought after, the pure unfiltered essence of conflict that represents itself in its purest form. A place where everybody else would rather avoid because of the overflow of violence, but it is a place where people like this man truly belong. A haven fit only for those that have experienced it only to come out with a new look on life.

Like a clownfish resting in the soft comforting embrace of an anemone. The warmth of another agitated being trying to pry off his limbs gives him the feeling of being truly ‘alive’ in a sense that he cannot describe to anyone else. Because when he describes the feeling to others they have the weird habit to die. The only way to explain is by fighting, sharing raw live experience of trading punches with something stronger that has every chance of ending his petty existence. Taking in sheer ecstasy of receiving a hard knuckle inside the eye socket with a great chance of permanent blindness. The joy of snapping a person’s neck after being beaten to an inch of his life, a feeling that compares to the tingling vibrations of having a hard conditioned shin penetrate deep into the groin area.

Sweating bullets down his brow as the lights went ever brighter, the goal of presenting himself standing over the half-living body of the person that was once regarded as challenger. Truth was held tightly in his hands, truth is contained within his clenched fists and this ‘truth’ is as valid as everyone else’s. Except when two being approach each other with their own versions of that truth they end up crashing hard against one another so only that their one ‘truth’ will persevere against the rest of them. The winner retains his truth while the loser goes elsewhere with their lies. His truth is the one that says, “I win because I am strong”.

As his passion ignites his heart the environment around him shows the opposite, as it remains damp with the cheap lights barely functional. The constant flickering of the light bulb coats his identity with a layer of mystery as the dim strobes of the light both simultaneously reveal and conceal his features, each second flash a different bit of information. The shadow showing minuscule detail about the eight-foot man; His hair wilder than a stallion as it flows like a waterfall above his back; eyes barely visible under the spotlight; Its metal teeth are the only things that can be used to identify a face within the conditions. Looking above him as there is a small monitor showing a live feed of combat. “Ladies and gentlemen welcome to this all blood brawl, untamed, unsanctioned, unclean and no holds barred!” the announcer stood on the center of the ring to start off the Heavyweight match, which usually centers around those capable of dishing 100 tons of damage, there was supposed to be another man on the ring for the main event.

That man happens to be Butcher “Beast Mode” Barbary, a big grizzly man over 10ft sitting on a parallel room next to his. A more luxurious room that accommodates air conditioning and several vanity mirrors, besides that lumbering giant is his manager who is also observing the television set as they both patiently wait for their turn. Known by the fans as the newcomer with the chance to dethrone the current undefeated champ, because Butcher is famous for finishing all his death matches at the first round. So far undefeated for sixteen fights, starting from tomato cans then moving on to gatekeepers before keeping his name high on the contention ladder. With arms bigger than wooden logs and a chin tougher than a bomb shelter this man was nearly untouchable in his run, the last man he fought left the cage without a head between his shoulders. Beast Mode has not shown technique so far because he has overwhelming strength; it was up until recently that he moved up to the heavy weight division. Before that he has a highlight reel of fatalities available in the deep servers, a majestic right hook that soared across the stage like a comet’s tail and lands like a meteor that killed the dinosaurs. Today he has a chance for fame by being in the same stage with the undisputed champ, a man they call the “Chaser of the Underworld”. Truly a clash of styles between a heavy handed infighter who tries to literally knock people’s heads off pitted against a man who is rumored to have over a thousand hands. As their turn starts the crowd cheers over as the challenger enters the ring, Butcher is ready to pounce on the current champion. A wild animal with his fists replacing the fangs, he beats on his chest like a gorilla would to express his challenge. Moments later the entire stadium turned pitch black, all sounds dimmed out. A wraithlike entity makes its way through the ramp, hair dangling loose whipping the air as his head tilts with excitement, long hands both representing implements of death as the rattle his murder intent, feet pacing forward in a dance work as a ritual to bury is challenger, a grin made wide by the metals that represent his teeth, his silent presence although invisible in the dark felt throughout the area as if there is a plague set free. The lights revealed a man making his way to the cage, a man they call Champion.

Victory

What was supposed to be a long arduous match lasted for a mere two minute knockout, the opponent rushed in like a mad bull. Swinging both hands trying to gore the champ, it was a pity that his valiant efforts was responded with a series of evasive footwork. Foreign hands capable of only touching blurred afterimages as they only bring the challenger closer to his defeat. The champion only utilized deceptive movement which nullified the energetic rush, each passing punch is returned with several lighter taps to the face. What was once a fight quickly turned into an interesting spectacle where the challenger takes the role of a matador, putting an open display where he systematically dissects the techniques of the opponent for the world to see. Being in places where hits are supposed to land and piercing in swords where the challenger does not see. For the entirety of the short match the challenger only got one shot, because the champ lets him land his signature move. The contact resulted in a cough of blood, the consequence of that action is a beautiful display of fireworks that took place after. With fists replacing the gunpowder, it was a hundred hands that made its way to mark on the challenger's body. All connecting through a series of awkward angles zig zagging in mid air. A small number of them took the shortcut past the opponent's guard while the rest of the hands went across as oddities; bending, twirling, stretching, spiraling, bouncing, curving and eventually landing. Each passing strike aimed to cut away skin, to cut away fat under the skin, to cut away deeper into the muscles under the fat and lastly a nice jab to shatter the jaw. Fowler did to the challenger the same as he did with bread, firstly to take away the crust with a knife then to smear red jam all over it surface before taking a great big bite. After leaving Butcher in his own pool of blood the champ walked out of the cage, and as he met his fans on the sides of the ramp he noticed that one of the spectators had a valet sitting beside him, not your average arm candy either. Her lips gave him an opportunity “I will show you a world where there are stronger people to fight

Fowler said "Yes"

#6 Posted by Serinity (163 posts) - - Show Bio

Sahara Dessert

The dessert sun of the Sahara glared upon the sands as it had always done. So many days before this one it had scorched the lands and like so many after it would. The soft pallet of the grains glittered the heat and air casting illusions through a mirage. The lands untreatable by most and possible for even fewer. Contradictory to it all however sat a single figure defying every law one might expect from the barren landscape. The defiling beauty not belonging on this world the element radiantly clear to any figure wise or fool. The sun may have danced along the sea of sand brightly in the center however that was not so. From the blue skies was a dark storm cloud the gray hanging above in one single location at the central point rebelling against nature and weather. No other clouds in sight but in this one spot it rained like a monsoon. Lightning danced lashing at the ground chaotically. A dark and storm filled ring in an area that was bright hot and unbearable.

At the center legs crossed and at perfect harmony with the distortion of the world was the decaying rose. The further a certain redhead went the colder it got. The further in she ventured with a few followers the more the water changed. The closer she got to the horror of a deity in the circle the more rain turned crimson. Until the rain was completely composed of blood falling like a massacre was transpiring in the skies above. Despite the cold and demented element the ruby haired vixen continued forward. The lackies behind her were some what hesitant regardless they followed like loyal pups. The group refusing to be shaken as they approached a woman dressed in little and decorated with horns and chains primarily. Bits of leather and chains only things letting the beautifully sick creature be presentable. Eyes lifted slightly getting at first a glimpse of red hair, the Roxom leaping to her feet instantly and spawning to wicked hooks to raise against those who dared to near her.

This redhead was not her mother however. Not the proud fool she wished to rip into ribbons. Alezra was a person who fought to be a god then refused immortality, a demon who had a heart and the lack of a heart to let her daughter and husband die. Serenity would kill the entirety of the Roxom clan the family that let her fade, this beauty though was of violet eyes not jade. Of supremacy not confused nobility. Ren let her blades drop to her sides and nodded faintly to let the captivating woman speak. "Serenity Roxom correct, hard to not see the dark yet attractive features of your mother" A jab at the Everchosen's hate sways her thought. "My name is Clara Mass I was sent to find you. We as in Victor Frenzy and those he has been gathering see a use in you." Tell who she would be working for suggest there is no secrets that its not a arrangement with a devil. "A Paradise is being offered, a chance to burn the world and rebuild it in a stronger image. An image such as yours" suggest the less then pretty jobs are the catch to help ease the idea in. Stroke the ego a bit to help guide the mind into confidence. Serenity liked it this woman had a serpents tongue which told Ren she was with intellectuals and game changers. That the path was not a muddled one only progression through chaos. Of course they were both brilliant were both a master with the tongue giving in would not be so sudden.

"Should I say no I wish your masters pets to try and take my life. If that was their intent before now I don't know. I still wish them to act in such away." The exile Roxom spoke in a way meant to help ease Clara Mass in letting the pawns fall which the vixen didn't seam distraught about anyway. A simple command telling them to be at the ready. "If I comply I want enough wealth to make my room as lavish as I could ever dream." It was not really a fundamental part of who she was. It would be appreciated anyways however and was an act of greed one that was promised to be met. Serenity could see through the lie though something of Clara's was to be grander. Serenity could see the lie and Clara knew she would, it was a invisible game of measuring the other. "I want to know that they will let me take the life of my once family. No disruption and preferably assisted" a sin of pride she would see the execution through and wouldn't sway from the ideal. Clara made it clear they would not stop the Everchosen's goal. No lie in this one, they might be slippery at points honor could still be located though. "Third I want to belong no hidden agendas I devote myself to bringing fear why should one lie to me?" A nod of compliance chaos sought chaos why mask it from itself? Unknown to Clara though and the rest of the universe this was an act of envy. Her mother was still breathing, brother political power of Symaar, sister loved by many, aunt Cass had no association with Roxom really anymore yet the Roxom house would take up arms for her in almost a heart beat still. Serenity craved that belonging this was her chance to find such. "Finally I want a night with your exquisite company" an act of lust she was an embodiment of hell of course she was going to peruse such sin. The request was met with the promise to be had. It did not mean anything would be obtained or felt just a night of two serpents in the tree taunting victims.

Desires were all looking to be answered as best as possible her company unphased by what they stood before. There was one last thing to test of her potential employers. Wrath, the most important piece to creating change. No bloodshed no revolution and so from her black lips with the motion of sickly porcelain cheeks the beauty of decadence mouthed no. Six men quick to take up arms and ready to make an attempt at the Exile Roxom's life. A gunmen at her one and eight o'clock. Swordsmen at her twelve and nine, knives wielded by the one at her third and six. The demonic beauty moved with the grace of water her movements calm and serene almost beautiful. In contradiction to the results, she leaned back at a perfectly horizontal motion speed surpassing the bullet which resulted in the splattered brains upon maroon sand. Time stopped Serenity ripping the gunmen at her one o'clock into thirteen pieces before letting time return to normal. In a explosion of red mist the second gunmen fell, the swordsmen came next. Serenity let turned to let the blade at her right spear through her pale gut, a leap backwards brought the sword at her previous front to the nine o'clock's neck. The swordsmen losing his head in the swing the hook twirled into a downward angle and was brought up. The blade speared through the mans jaw his throat gurgling as it began to flood with ichor. Leaping avoided the knife wielder at her back. The process also forced the hook to be pulled free, if the man was not destined to die from the blood in his throat he was certainly dead when his skull had a gaping chunk ripped clean.

Dropping back to the ground the demon queen smiled at the two left each armed with knives in each hand. Serenity armed with a pair of hooks and a sword in her chest, blood cascaded down the clothing of the pair, Serenity was clean her skin absorbing the blood. With a twisted smile she shrugged beckoning the pair to come at her. The first charged her from the right ducking the blades passed overhead the Everchosen hooking her blades into the man's shoulders. Fluidly she flung herself between the mans legs her hold on the hooks forcing him to the ground. The sound of fracturing ribs could be heard, the motion also sparred the demonic figure of her second attacker. With haste the sword in her chest was yanked free and stabbed through the first knife wielders back, heart cleaved in two. This left her with but one man to attempt to kill her, fear was in his eyes he still insisted on attacking her. A step dodged a thrust, tilt back avoid the second thrust directed at her throat. He moved to kick her knee out, reposition close thighs have his leg in a vice. Right arm comes down aim to wound and push her back. Response grab wrist with superior speed, crush greater strength. He drops knife in right hand, broken in seven places its rendered useless. Left blade comes for a quick kill at center mass loosen leg hold to get proper footing to block. His position is unbalanced, with profession he uses momentum to spin aim for muscles on inside of leg could open risk of infection and would limit movement. Serenity counters by driving the stolen knife down through his elbow. Pain loosens grip on second blade, pull it free resulting in broken fingers. Retract both blades and twirl them to the forward angle and thrust. The mans knives now were snuggly fitting into eye sockets.

"You have been weighed. You have been measured. They were found wanting, you were not. Take me away Clair Bear." In retrospect the bloodshed might not have been needed. Serenity enjoyed the exorcise however, that and it told her what she was joining and more accurate what to expect. Pawns a plenty and knights and nightmares at the center. This was the type of people see sought to be connected to.

#7 Edited by Leon_Dissada (4380 posts) - - Show Bio

norway

Leon murders countless people in an enemy base in pure rage at the destruction of his entire clan. after a 7 hour long battle Leon is left standing bloody in the middle of the now falling apart base and a slaughterhouse of dead bodies. walking through them and in a pool of blood leon sits on a collapsing brick wall, stabs his sword into the ground and thinks

#8 Edited by Avaritia (190 posts) - - Show Bio

3 AM in Paradise:

 

The demon of greed was lying on his ultra-king sized bed, staring up at a ceiling that was painted with a parody of "The Creation of Adam", with him replacing God and a well dressed businessman replacing Adam. A perfect example of the wealth he now had. Surrounding him were a few naked men and women of various national origins who had reveled in a world of pleasure with him, and throughout his makeshift palace of decadence were others that had attended his delightful party, blacking out from a night of too much indulgence and sin. Now he was the only one awake in the darkness of his home, and thinking about how he got to this point encouraged the collector of souls to rise from his bed, wrap himself in an expensive red silk robe, and pour himself a glass of champagne while surveying the rewards of serving the powerful. 

Joining the forces of Victor and Paradise had been an excellent decision for Avaritia, which was made evident by the vast amount of material wealth that surrounded him in his new penthouse apartment at the top of one of the largest towers in the city. It was decorated with the finest that money could buy for the most insatiable of souls; fur rugs made from endangered species, silk curtains, a 150 inch plasma television, a bar, and just about anything else that could be imagined in such a place. He was in the lap of luxury, and it was all thanks to a certain woman that paid him a visit one day. Avaritia rememberd how she approached him during one of his visits to the New York Stock Exchange trading floor, where men and women scurried about making sure their money was accomplishing the ultimate task; getting them even more money. It was a place of various emotions, as people watched fortunes rise and fall with their own wealth on the line, and it was that mixture of greed and desperation that made it one of Avaritia's favorite vacation spots.  

He remembered the way she had walked towards him that day, with both elegance and determination, and the way that while everyone else in the room was going about their own business she was looking directly at him...as if to pierce through him with her violet eyes and knowing glance. She was a woman on a mission, and in that very first moment Avaritia had become infatuated with her. Just remembering her made his drinking hand tremble in wanting, even when surrounded by the many desire-evoking things in his penthouse. There was strength in the way Clara Mass had introduced herself, charm in the way that she had leaned in to whisper in his ear that she knew all of the demon's secrets, and appeal in how she had slipped him a piece of paper with an address on it before leaving just as quickly as she came. Avaritia recalled how on that night he had gone to meet her at the specified address, it turned out to be her hotel, and how he had gone up to Clara's room hoping to satisfy both his curiosity and desires. The mysterious woman answered the door dressed to perfection in a sleek black dress and still immediately shattered his hopes, announcing that their meeting would be purely professional and that she had a partnership to propose.  

She once more brought up her knowledge of who he was, calling him a "greedy little devil" in a way that seemed like a compliment even though it carried a hint of possible hidden disgust, and offered him a letter of invitation from the mastermind of Paradise to join their powerful cabal. In times past the red genie had served many kings and emperors, and knew that the oppertunities that such alliances presented were just as numerous as the ways it could come crashing down, but the rewards and the excitement of the gamble made it an offer that couldn't be refused. Since that day he had traveled to the land of his newest "emperor", was given the very place he now stood in, and was once more on the road to power that he had been derailed from so many times.  

With the memories of Clara and his recent experiences still swimming in his head, Avaritia strolled outside to stand on his new balcony and found himself hypnotized by the lights of the city and how they looked like flickering pieces of wonderful gold in the distance. Raising his glass as a toast to himself, for a moment the demon almost believed new life would possibly be enough to satisfy him. The mere thought of such an idea sent him into a fit of hysterical laughter, the likes of which could be heard all around Paradise and woke most of his guests, and as he threw his glass into the open sky he once again realized that all would never truly be right in the world. 

Not unless the demon had everything he would ever want...
#9 Edited by Leon_Dissada (4380 posts) - - Show Bio

somewhere in norway 3 AM, storming outside

Leon sits on a collapsing wall of an enemy base in the middle of a bunch of dead mutilated corpses thinking, his black and crimson trench trench coat blowing in the breeze making the chains on his black and crimson Tripp pants raddal. his leather boots were blood stained and his normally black shirt and black leather gloves were also stained with blood. his yellow snake like eyes look at the destruction he had caused not to long ago as he wipes the blood off of his ghostly pail face. "who was she?" he thought to himself as he went over the previous 4 hours.

flashback 4 hours previous

Leon walk is into the enemy base holding his sword and starts slashing up any of the guards in his way, he butchered bodies with the swiftness of an executioner, he was mad, angered at the destruction of his village and kidnapping of his sister and would stop at nothing to insure the destruction of any1 that had a part in the villages downfall. he slashed, stabbed and drank the blood of his victims, butchered limbs and watched them bleed out on the ground loving there screams of pain and fear, finally they are feeling his torment. on and of he went until every living soul lay dead, Leon then screamed a blood curdling scream of emotional agony and rage sending a massive shock wave through out the entire building causing the walls to give out and collapse. once the smoke cleared Leon was standing in the puddle of mutilated corpses.

THE MEETING

wail he was standing in the puddle a person appered in front of him, he started wondering weather he should kill her she spoke before he could strike, her exact words were undefinable now, leon hadn't payed much attention thinking she was just some weirdo that fell off the wacky wagon and she didn't seem like teh type of girl he would hit on so he didn't pay much attention to what she said but when she vanished he saw a letter on the ground and read it. it had talked about a partnership in a place called "paradise" Leon wasn't to keen on the idea until he read that he could achieve unlimited power. Leon knew the only way to avenge his village and kidnapped sister was to gain far more power than the enemy and snuff out there lives like a distant candle flame.

BACK TO REALITY

Leon stared down at the letter. "unlimited power..." he thought to himself, he wasn't to happy at the idea of working for anybody but himself but if he could gain the power he so desired, he would do anything to achieve it. he got off the wall, the blood on his clothes seemed to somehow run off into a puddle under him. "well" he spoke to himself "i need that power..." after saying that the prince of chaos slowly walks away from the bloody butchered up base towards the direction of paradise determined to be the most powerful in the entire universe. he remembered hearing something about a guy named Klovis and the blood knights, he had no clue who this was but the only thing that was for sure is he had to find that man, that was his key to power beyond all belief. these thoughts and a lot more ran through his head as he walked towards a wall and suddenly paused and thought to him self "what if i loose myself to this lust?" then he remembered her..his friend..the one who was kidnapped. she was the only person that made him feel this funny feeling inside. she was like a sister to him "no...the risk is worth it...she is worth it...." and with those final words he walks through the walls heading for paradise as the rain lets up and the sun begins to rise on the bloody mess.