Something Wicked This Way Comes RPG

The soft and gentle air of Beans & Brews Coffee House was filled with newly baked bread and coffee. The large windows facing the street had big names carved into them, the name of the coffee house. A figure stepped inside as the bell rang hanging above the door, he didn’t get much attention from the other people that sat in their chairs, reading the local newspaper and drinking coffee. The figure was dressed in red leather jacket, his bald head and creepy black eyes made him stand out from everyone in the shop. He approached the employee, a young man with soft voice. “What can I get you?”

The figure raised his hand as the young man raised an eyebrow and kept his eyes locked on the hand, it started to heat up in the room, the figure made a fist and aimed it at the young man, he stood there still as stone. “Bam.” The figures mouth opened as he opened the fist and out came fire. The young man ran into the backroom covered in fire, his face melted away as he fell down on the ground.

The people inside the room threw their chairs behind them and started to run out, the door was locked as the fear ran down their toes. The figure in the red jacket turned as a grin appeared on his face. Blood splattered on the large windows facing the street. The door opened to the coffee house as the man in the red jacket appeared on the concrete. His grin still on his face, he walked towards , he snapped his fingers and the whole coffee house started burning.

With a gasp and loud inhale, Number Seven grabbed the skin that covered his heart. He exhaled as he fell back on the soft bed, rubbing his eyes. He shook his head as his feet touched the cold wooden floor. His pants and t-shirt were placed on a wooden stool facing the window. He walked towards it, looking out the window seeing black smoke coming from afar. His eyes widened as he fell on the floor trying to get his pants on, his t-shirt was already on him, his white tight t-shirt made him look like a player. His messy black hair was usual for him and the blue jeans.

Salt Lake City was the most comfortable places to be since Number Seven got out of Area 51, he was supposed to go straight to the Fox Company but he took a detour, long and tiresome detour. The same was in every city, busy traffic, people punching the horn of their cars and swearing out the window while some were relaxed and patient. Putting on his black leather jacket that he got as a gift from Simon, back when they were close.

Number Seven was curious about the happenings in . He only wanted to check it out to see if it was what he thought it was. Horn of a car messed with his hearing as he was busted when he jumped over the hood of it, rubbing his ears he was in great pain, chuckled a little but was up and running again back in no time. He ran around the corner of and saw the ambulances and police heading the opposite way of the fire.

Eight Hours Ago.

Park sat on the rooftop of a High Temperature Water Plant across the street from Salt Lake City's Museum of Fine Arts. The building was stashed next to a campus parking lot, for reasons Park had yet to determine, which made surveillance difficult as Park had to remain hidden from sight. Luckily most people around this late were just drunken frat boys and their disappointed girlfriends who couldn't find the right car. He had been hired to steal some Native American relic from the museum, no big deal. He got up and stretched his arms out to yawn.

Security was lame, they'd be easy to get past. He took a sip of the coffee that kept him running at night and checked the binoculars again. At first it was nothing unusual. Just the same old same old, but then Park caught a glimpse of a bright light through the windows. Before he could draw a conclusion a fireball erupted from the building shattering windows as the air inside super-heated and expanded violently. Screw this. Park thought swinging down to street level. He ran across the street and through the broken glass doors. If anyone sees me they'll think I'm just a student attracted by the commotion.

He had no problem finding the main hall where the Hopi mask was on display in the center of the room. Unfortunately, he wasn't the only one who'd found it. Standing in the middle of the room with his face cast in shadows from the fire raging behind him was a man in a red jacket laughing.

"Hey baldy!" Park shouted throwing a knife at his head. The figure vanished before the knife even got near him. Park scrambled to pick up the knife and grab the mask before charging headlong out of the building as a second fireball chased him outside. In the distance he could hear sirens wailing and decided to make himself scarce. What was that?

Now.

Park was about to skip out of town before pulling up to a cafe for a little pick me up. After last night he'd been running on fumes and needed to be alert on the road if he wanted to make the drop off in time. He dismounted his bike and began to walk towards the coffee shop when blood sprayed onto the front windows covering the view. The door opened to the cafe and out stepped the same man from last night. Park hadn't gotten a good look at his face but the bald ego and red jacket stood out vibrantly.

The man looked at Park with piercing black eyes and smiled. Oh shit. Park dove over the hood of a car and took cover as he felt flames lick at his heels. Shit what the hell is this guy?! Park thought as he crouched low and mad his way down the block behind cover as the bald man began hurling fireballs into the street. Well how the hell do I get out of this? Park asked himself clutching the mask in his jacket close to his chest.

The horde of people rushing and screaming bumping into Number Seven was painful for him, his shoulder had been weak for sometime and as more people bumped into it the harder it was for him to get to his destination. The police coward behind their white and black car as fireballs and what not came flying at the hood and one by one the cars blew up or the impact on the cars from the fireballs made the cars roll off and into a building. The whole street was crumbling down, buildings with shattered glass and walls being torn down from the impact of the fireball.

Who is doing this? Or what?, Number Seven thought as he ran to the corner of the blown up building, a sign under rocks and glass had the initials, B&B. Number Seven raised his head, seeing a figure standing in the middle of the chaos, maybe in his thirties with a red classic jacket and a bald head. The bullets that the five'o shot at the man did not do anything but go through him, like shooting a paper only it didn't do any damage to him or the outfit he wore, like a ghost.

Number Seven took out a blade that had been in the sheath on the back of the belt-buckle. Sansanvi, he thought to himself. The blade had unknown runes carved into the blade itself, it was a little dagger that could damage anything. Anything, even demons and angels. It's hilt was wrapped with leather, brown leather. He had found this blade with the torn out journal, the blade was stuck underwater as a glimpse of light came from the strange rock that was stuck on it, Lapiz Lazuli.

Putting it back into the sheath, Number Seven kicked in the half torn down wall, not knowing that the house became unsteady. Slowly Number Seven entered the building, his boots shattering more glass. His eyes were locked on the man in front of him, taking the blade firmly holding it steady in his hand, the leather stuck to his bare palm. A crack in the wall he entered made a loud noise, the wall crumbled down as the ceiling collapsed like a domino, Number Seven's eyes widened as he moved his feet to the shattered glass on the other side of the wall, jumping head first out of the building. Smoke and dirty dust flew around the area. Close one, he thought as he grabbed the blade and stood up.

He engaged the man, his blade firmly in his hand. He took a leap towards him, aiming for the heart. The man turned around and as a fireball started to appear in the palm of his hands Number Seven's eyes widened, his reflexes did the job and stabbed through the skin of his hand. Only making a cut. The man didn't flinch, he stood there with blood running down on the ground, Number Seven hand still holding the blade. The man in the red jacket, with all his power raised his foot and kicked Number Seven in the abs, he flew off his feet as he landed on the concrete ground in a dark alley.

Park turned around to see some poor son of a bitch had decided to take sparky boom boom man on in a fight. Well thanks for the distraction I guess... Park thought in silent gratitude as he made his way back to his bike. He was about to hop on and put Salt Lake City in the rear-view when Number Seven jumped headfirst onto the hard concrete in an alley. Park didn't know him, not well at least. They'd had a conversation once a upon a time and he knew Seven was part of Fox Company. I'm going to have to help aren't I? He asked himself as the man in the red jacket Park groaned, he knew the answer, and grabbed another knife hoping that this was just a meta thing.

He ran into the alley where Number Seven was struggling with the man over a knife, until the man kicked Seven in the torso and sent him flying. Seven crashed to the ground a few feet away, directly in the middle of Park and the Burning Man. "Dude." Park asked skidding to a stop and kneeling over him. "Are you alright?"

Before he could get a response the man in the red jacket raised his hand and Park pulled Seven behind a dumpster as flames roared through the alley. Shit, you got yourself into some deep shit today Park. He chided himself. Shut up brain. He thought as he jumped over the dumpster and pushed off the lid to boost himself up and brought his knife straight down on the man's head.

The man gave Park a sick grin and then vanished completely. Park landed on the alley floor with a roll and got up to look around. Behind him he could feel heat growing and turned around to see the man in the red jacket materializing out of flames. Oh god. Park stabbed him in the neck and the man just laughed before drawing his fist back and punching Park across the alley. He landed with a thud and felt the wind knocked out of him.

His sight was blurry, feeling the rough concrete against his bare back as the other man dragged him, he was momentarily deaf. Seeing a familiar face being flown across the alley, Number Seven took a stand, his abdomen sore, like a baseball bat had been beating on it dozens of times. The blade still in his hand, his firm grip of the blade made him grin as he turned his head at the man walking into the alley. The five'o still behind their cars, who can blame them? They've never been trained to fight these sort of things.

Number Seven looked back at Park, with a slow walk towards him to check if he was alive. Harder than I thought, he mumbled under his breath as he smirked looking at the man in the red jacket before him, the whine of the cops sirens were all around, it didn't even matter to the man who approached slowly Number Seven, with a nervous smile he dodged a punch, and again, again. He wasn't trying to dodge like a coward, he hadn't found a plan to destroy this thing, it didn't seem to talk so no way to find out what it wants.

The scent of gasoline caught Number Seven's nose, wasn't as pleasant smell as he hoped it to be, since some people get high from it. Quite disgusting to say at least. With a strike to Number Seven's shoulder he stumbled onto the concrete ground on his back, he groaned as shatters of glass cracked at the impact of his back. Hearing heavy breathing and quickly opening his blue eyes, a fist as big as a rock came flying towards his head, Number Seven raised his feet and stopped the average sized man to hit him. He thought his feet would go through his body but they didn't, that was a relief.

"Do you have any ideas on how to end this?" He said, breathing heavily as he kicked outward his feet to take the weight of them. "I'm exhausted." He stood up raising his blade, forgot that it was still in his right hand, he slashed left and right as the red jacket man walked backwards. His mistake was that he lunged forward to his abdomen, the man grabbed the wrist of his right hand and grinned as he looked at Number Seven deep into his eyes, he grabbed his throat and raised it meter high. He squeezed it as Number Seven kicked around to try to catch his breath.

Park pulled himself off the plaster and glass covered ground and reached around for his knife. His vision was still swimming after that last hit. As the blurring around the corner of his eyes faded he saw Seven being strangled by the burning man. Who the f*ck is this guy? Park thought as he got to his feet and charged forward. He grabbed Seven by the shoulder and the burning man's hand pulling them apart thanks to a well placed kick from Seven. Park pulled out another knife and stabbed it into the man's chest.

Unfortunately Park didn't have time to celebrate the hit. The knife began burning turning a bright orange forcing Park to let go and clutch his right hand in pain as his weapon melted away, dripping useless to the ground. Park backed away keeping himself between the big guy and Seven. I really hope he's recovering cause I could use a tag teamer right now. Park thought as he reached his good hand into his jacket and felt around for something, anything that he could as a weapon.

The punch came in clumsy and heavy grazing Park's shoulder. Even the glancing hit sent him spinning and Park bounced off the alley wall with a grunt before pulling out a taser and firing. The taser buried itself into the man's shoulder and buzzed uselessly flickering blue sparks ran through his body but to no affect.

"Seven. What is this thing?" Park asked backing up further reaching for another knife. This guy was at the museum last night, is he following me? And if he's following me why'd he go pick a fight with Seven? They have history or something? Park wondered as he tried to make some sense out of his situation.

Number Seven gasped for air as his feet touched the ground. Leaning forward he grabbed his neck and took a slow breath. C'mon, man! he though as he raised his head seeing Park struggling with the man in the red jacket but still making a good opposition for him. The shattered glass cracked everywhere around them. Number Seven turned his head towards the local-park that was down the alley, seeing a small pond and fountains.

He grinned thinking if he should tell Park the thought of his idea or if he should go solo. The blade in his hand he engaged into the fight, dodging punches and kicks. A firebolt struck his torso as he flew backwards crashing into the brick wall, his hand touched lightly the concrete ground as his face was displeased. He stood up and dodged more punches and kicks. Slashing the blade in the man's thigh, it cried out of pain but seemed still going for punches and kicks. His eyes widened as he saw a fist going for Number Seven's head for a vengeance. His face bloody and wet of sweat, his black hair covered in dirt, glass and crumble of rock.

"I don't know what that it is." He looked back at the grassy field and children having fun with kites and swinging on the swings. "I think we need to get him to a water source over there." Motioning to down the alley. "It will make him weak." I hope. He smirked as he started engaging again, his head went left and right making the man breathless but it seemed to be quite pumped up, he slashed his blade at the man's abdomen.

Number Seven's feet backed away as he started to go down the narrow alley, jumping over dumpsters and doing a sidewalk on the brick walls, landing on four feet on the concrete ground, putting his blade in it's sheath for better landing. Looking back seeing the man in the red jacket walk at the dumpster as it sprung of the concrete, spinning towards Park and himself.

Park was grateful for Seven's timely intervention as he ducked a fireball that unfortunately hit Seven in the chest. He watched his new friend pick himself out of a wall and get back to fighting. Between their two knives they managed to put up a solid front. The thing let out a scream as Seven scored a hit on it's leg but kept up attacking them. Park grunted in sympathy as the men threw a punch at Seven's face.

"I don't know what that it is." Seven answered looking over his shoulder. "I think we need to get him to a water source over there. It'll make him weak." Park followed Seven's look over to a park with fountains and ponds. Perfect. Park thought to himself following the lead and jumping off the wall and swinging up to the fire escape above him to avoid the careening dumpster. Park balanced out against the rail and threw a knife back at the big guy before hopping over and jumping back on top of the dumpster.

Well I mean it's not like he was just gonna take a nice afternoon stroll with yea was he? Park thought to himself. Gonna have to encourage him a bit. With a mischievous smirk that had served him so well in the past Park pulled the lid of the dumpster and tossed it at the man. Not likely to do any harm, but it'll get his attention. Park thought reaching in to the container and pelting the man with garbage.

"Come on you big goon! Right this way!" Park shouted running headlong for the water turning occasionally to throw more trash. Old slurpees, used diapers, water down rubbish bags smacked off the guy's face or burned up before it reached him. That's right, hush up and follow daddy now. Park laughed as he continued his littering spree.

Number Seven jumped down on the hard concrete ground with shattered glass covering the ground of the half torn building on both sides. Number Seven's hands lightly touched the layer of the concrete as a sharp piece of glass pierced through the in between the bone of his palm. A small groan and a lot of pain covered his facial expression as he took it out, ripping a cloth on his white t-shirt as he wrapped around his hand. He shook his head as the dumpster stopped in the middle of the street between the alley and the local park up ahead.

Number Seven took his blade out of his sheath as he turned his head sideways seeing the strange man in the red jacket approach him with quite a angry face; it's wrinkly forehead and it's black eyes that could rip one's soul out of shiver. Number Seven stood up, his ripped blue jeans covered in blood spots, his tight t-shirt was dirty and small cloth missing that he used for his hand. He started to run, the wind flew his black hair backwards, his blue eyes wide open as he approached the metal bars of the local park. A water fountain in a shape like a mermaid spitting out water was in nearest to them.

He did kong vault over the green-ish dumpster that was missing the lid that Park used. He gave Park a smirk as he sideflipped over the iron fence. How shall we proceed this? Number Seven thought as he paced slowly towards the fountain, hearing little kids yell for their parents as they saw them and then the man in the red jacket.

"We need to give him a little push." He winked Park with a wide smile on his face. The man in the red jacket walked through the iron fence. A circle of dead grass appeared as he stood on it, a loud breath came out of it's nostrils and a groan. Oh man Number Seven sighed and approached the fountain with great speed. Putting his hand in the fountain as a small water came to his palm, he splashed at the man in the red jacket and he backed away, yelling something. It's hands went up as a fireball approached Number Seven. He rolled to the side as the fireball impacted the fountain, the explosion destroyed the fountain as a water covered the ground around where the fountain was.

"Great." Number Seven said as he turned to Park, shaking his head with his blade still in his firm hand.

Concrete and dirt kicked into the air whipping past Park's face as the fountain behind him disappeared in a ball of fire and a cloud of smoke. Well so much for that idea. Park grimaced as the burning man continued getting closer. Fire began to light up the entire area as he spread his arms firing off bolts or flames. Park ducked under the onslaught and rolled behind a large chunk of debris and took cover. Ok, so the fountain didn't pan out... gotta be more water around here... or just a way to choke out the flames... Park thought looking around the area and coming up with nothing.

"Seven cover your eyes!" Park shouted tossing two flashbangs out into the open and turning away from the bright explosion of light. As it faded Park turned to find that the man in the red jacket was stunned, but recovering. "We need to take this fight somewhere else. Now." Park said tossing Seven a communicator and motioning to the guy to follow his lead. Keeping his head low Park ran past the man and hopped the fence before sprinting down the alley and back to his bike. We need to get him out from the open and figure out who he is.

His vision blurred slowly as if everything was in slow-motion, the annoying unknown sound buzzing in his head, he tried to shook his head to get rid of it but nothing happened. Before noticing he had grabbed a communicator that seemed like a Bluetooth device for you're ears but Number Seven got the feeling that there were more to it than that. The water poured from the pipes that had once been attached to the fountain that blew up, the rusty pipes clanged together as the sound of screaming people and sirens all over the place. Number Seven froze for a moment as he saw the swing on the playground still swinging but nobody was in it, he took a deep breath to his lungs and shrugged the thought of it.

"We need to take this fight somewhere else. Now." Park said before he tossed the communicator, but that had been sometime ago and as his brain was not intact with his feet or hands they were on the move. Park easily ran past the red jacket man and with a slash of his hands and some shots of fireballs were fired towards Number Seven he still ran towards Park, as he was supposed to follow him. I hope he has a good plan! Number Seven thought as his back leaned backwards and his eyes caught a glimpse of a large hand, dirty as Number Seven's hands were, the red jacket man slashed again and again.

Number Seven dove forward and landed softly on the wet grass, seeing Park jumping over a fence not far from where Number Seven was. He got to his feet and ran as fast as he could, feeling the breeze of the soft humid air touching his face, his eyes peered as they got teary from the wind. Taking a quick glance behind him and seeing the man in the red jacket gaining speed, it's hands heat up as a fireball started to appear in his palm. Number Seven's eyes widen as he jumped over the iron fence.

Vaulting over the police car, still seeing the cops cowering behind it, they're hands shaking as they had a firm grip on their pistol, the sweat poured down from the temple of their forehead. A man held a necklace with a cross on it, he had his eyes closed and his mouth was moving, from time to time his mouth stopped moving and his lips gently touched the cross. Number Seven sighed as a loud roar was behind him, Number Seven ran down the narrow alley that was all in shattered glass and crumbled bricks from the buildings next door.

"What now?"

Park didn't wait to see if Seven wanted to follow him or not, he bolted. When he reached his bike Park grabbed his bag and pulled out a nice crowbar. "Dude get out of the way!" Park warned Seven through the comm. He watched Seven peel out of the alley with the guy right behind him with his hands on fire. It is always something. Just once I'd like to meet another human being. Park thought as he raised the crowbar high above his head and brought it crashing down onto a fire hydrant. The vibration from the impact jarred his whole body but the cap facing the alley gave and broke. "Ow." Park muttered flatly as water shot across the street hitting the bald guy straight on. Steam flooded the area covering the alley and street. "You'll want to find cover now."

Park grabbed his bag and charged the man head on. Jostling in his backpack was every explosive he normally traveled with, which was in scientific terms 'a sh!t ton'. Reaching into the bag Park pulled the pin on a couple grenades before dropping the bag under the man's feet and jumping over him and sliding into cover behind the dumpster as the street exploded into a fireball of shrapnel, electricity, magnesium and... well... fire. Park winced as the heat brushed over him before he looked over the dumpster to see the man doubled over steam boiling off his skin. His jacket was shredded and burned leaving a clear view of exposed flesh that had been torn and mutilated by the explosion even as it slowly healed in front of him.

"Well he survived that. But for the moment I'd say he's powerless." Park spoke into the communicator. He walked out from out of cover and raised the crowbar ready to cave the man's skull in when the man turned faster than Park could track and grabbed him by the neck choking him against a large pile of rubble. Park looked directly into the man's eyes and saw burning fields of human flesh. Old wild wild west Indians running in fear as fire rained down on top of them.

I'm am the Pahana. Your ancestors feared me. Your generation forgot me. But now you will all burn as the fifth world marches across your Earth and razes the sky above you. Park's scream filled his mind but only a choked rasp came from his mouth. The corners of his vision began to blur as he grabbed at the Pahana's hand and tried to peel it from his throat. "Seven..." He rasped hoarsely. "Could use some... help!"