The Clock Strikes Three RPG

Military Installation Number 1584 A.K.A. "The Rabbit Hole" - Location: Classified

Robin sat in the shadowy room, a light focused on the archer. The chair was bolted to the floor. He had barely moved in the past few hours, the tell tale slight movement of his chest and the opening and closing of his eyes the only signs he was breathing. He had been brought here a few years ago, when he had somehow stumbled into a futuristic time, and he had been struck by some sort of a non lethal projectile. His brown eyes focused on the door, his hands bound in front of him in what he had heard the guards calling "cuffs". The metal restraints were strong, easily strong enough to resist his early attempts to break them. The collar around his neck was apparently some sort of pain-inducing device. He stood up, and moved over to the door in front of him. They considered him controllable enough that they often left the viewing window open, but still moved away from his cell when they went past. One of the guards made the mistake of going too close to Robin's cell, and the outlaw had snapped his neck like a dry twig. A guard walked past, his footfalls seeming to match the ticking of the clock. He looked across at the clock. It was a little past eleven. Another guard walked up to the door, and Robin put his arms down in front of him. "What, Loxley? You running late for something?" The guard let out a healthy guffaw. Anger showed itself in Robin's cold glare. The guard lifted a cattleprod, as if in challenge. The outlaw locked gazes for a moment, then turned away and started walking around his cell. He stared directly up at the camera that could see almost his whole cell. If he could, he would climb up the wall and tear that thing out of the wall.

 Tap.... tap....tap the blood flows from her wounds, striking the stone floor of the church. Everytime its the same, cyborgs dont sleep but on his down time the same images/memories came up like a sinister screensaver. Everytime he's cold metallic skin could feel the warmth of Elizabeths life drain through his fingertips as he tries to hold her together.  It had been along time since that day which ended the future of Victor Frankenstein. But here  in the dark silence of a prision cell was the remnants of that very man. Chained to the back wall of the cell bound by his ankles, wrist and throat  hung the metallic monstrosity now simply known as Frank.

Twisting his glistening metallic neck he begins to move, creating a chorus of ear shredding screeching. His skin letting out the the cry as it conflicts with the equally cold and metallic bonds that bound the creature to his cell. "Still to early, its still daylight" he concludes seeing the god beams breaking just in front of the cell door, its source the window several feet above his head. A window he had never seen. Going back into a powered down state he's memories begin to surface again.

Feeling a strong breeze around him, the feeling off movement and  nature crashing agaisnt his fleeing form as he runs headlong through a woodland, with flashes of lights overhead. Seeing himself run for what seems like hours as the noises around him draw closer and closer. Flashes of a group of people standing around him as he lay on the floor paralyzed,  a man reading a statement  flashes of words "Murder, theft, arson" and then black and the cell once again.

Frank looks around himself, his cell now bathed in the blackness of the night from the outside world. His internal clock appeared in his vision flashing the time 2:55am, Smilling and raising his head Frank mutters to himself  " Soon"

Light years away Franche Redelan sprawled across his fiancées bed going over their majestic wedding plans: The primary colors requested for the guest, the location, the music, the food, florals....Princess Rona endlessly expressed her ideas, throwing her hands this way and that way, frolicking around her feminine bedroom. Franche lie back, resting his hands on his chest. He would pick his head up time to time when Ronan glanced at him to keep his ears attentive. "Franche, remember some of this..", she said frequently. He remembered the azeelia flowers the flower girl would carry, the music from the Flythe Orchestra, the velvet blue and white--everything she wanted. Their wedding was postponed and now he was stranded on Earth, captured and contained in a military facility. Light years away."Expectantly, he's being difficult and unresponsive", the female scientist monotonically said, dropping a metallic sharp-edged rod in a tube of saline.

"Heirut, we can buzz the Counter Intelligence Department to in--"

"We can't Derrick, his limbs cannot be unlatched, his species has natural peak super human strength." Heirut, the female scientist, smacked off her latex gloves and moved a strand of black hair from her caramel colored face. "Luckily, they discovered him with alien technology to give us answers "

"You can go see what they got, while I finish up his examination." Derrick raised an eyebrow and slightly tilted his head down like she would love the offer.

Heirut, examined Franche's large sex organs "No, you can go check that out", she mumbled, peering closer at Franche's naked sky blue body. "Unbelievable..."

Derrick chuckled softly and left the lab carrying a plastic clipboard.

His emotion were dead, he killed them, at least for now. Franche stared straight ahead, rarely blinking but relaxed his lips. It was what humans called a Poker Face. The Cerulan Military formally called it Topical Neutrality, practiced body language. "Never show emotion to your opponent, confuse them as you charge forward and strike swiftly like a *Leopardia." His squad leader would calmly state, standing at the center of their squad triangle (similar to a group circle). Now inside Franche's mind, he wondered how he let these Earth scum shoot his shuttle out the sky and capture him.

Heirut smacked her latex gloves back on and squeezed a clear gel into her palm. There was a perverse curiosity blaring in her brain. Could this alien produce the sperm cells to reproduce with a human?

The stench of burning flesh from another world filled the small room.  The leprechaun Caedmon rose to his feet and looked around at the white walls surrounding him.  Every day he spent here, it seemed like these walls got closer and closer.  Once a fierce warrior and king, Caedmon was now confined to this cell, caged in like some kind of sickly dog.  "I am not a dog!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, while kicking his rock hard bed.  The collar around his neck lit up again and sent a small jolt of electricity running through his body.  Trying to resist the pain, the leprechaun gripped the collar and tugged at it, trying, in vain, to free himself from his shackles.  Pure hatred and frustration wracked the creature's already warped psyche,as he reminisced about his past.

From one prison to another. No matter how many doors she forced open, no matter how many times she fled, there was no escape. Perhaps this world was designed by Escher, and each time she though she was free she was only running in circles. First there was life…and is not life the greatest prison of all? There is only one escape…there are no loopholes, no tunnels that can be dug. And in this life, there was the Soviet Union. A prison within a prison. Ah, what a cruel motherland! And within that, yet another prison, the one the Master was taken to…try as she might, Margarita could not get him free on her own, and thus was her soul imprisoned. It was the cost of this trapped soul (a butterfly in a jar, or amber perhaps) that the Master was freed…and then the prison of life let them both free, only to reveal that death itself was not an escape. The Master went on to higher planes, but Margarita was trapped in the mortal realm. The jailer? Woland, who had taken a fancy to her, and would never, ever let her go. If he had been merely a mortal, or even an immortal, his mind could have been swayed, but Woland was the devil himself, and Hell would freeze over before he would lose interest in Margarita. It was her own fault really…she should have read the fine print when she agreed to host the Devil's Ball. So the Rabbit Hole was only the latest in this series of prisons, the latest Matroyushka doll in which was curled Margarita. 

 Robin eyed the clock. Tick, tick, tick. As the minute hand swept to the twelve, announcing three am, gunshots were heard, fairly far from his cell. He braced himself as loud footsteps sprinted through the prison, stepping away from his door. With a loud crash and the metallic screeching, his door was torn from its hinges, and he stepped forward, spotting the blur of movement just out of the corner of his eye. Now Robin slipped out a small metal pin from his sleeve. Pushing it into the lock, he jimmied it around for a few seconds, the first cuff falling away before he freed his other hand. He reached his hand around the collar he supposed was magic, and pushed the metal pin into the lock at the back. A few moves and there was a click as the collar fell to the ground. Robin walked out of his cell after scooping up the collar and placing it onto his belt. Just in case. He looked around, before spotting something. A crudely painted arrow sat on the wall, pointing in a direction. Sat in the white diagram where letters in black. "Armoury". That made Robin think his bow was that way. He sprinted in that direction, until he found a door marked with the same word. He gripped the handle and tugged. A small silver box to the side of the door flashed. On the small display red words scrolled. "Access code required". Robin started jabbing the numerical keys randomly, and the display buzzed angrily. With a growl of frustration, he thought it through and tried again. With a chime, the door clanged loudly, and Robin pulled it open. There was a guard inside, but he wasn't ready for Robin's brutal assault. He blocked Robin's first strike, but took a kick to the gut. Knocking him off balance. Robin delivered a spinning side fist to the man's temple. The guard slumped like one of the Sheriff's guards on one of his many adventures.

The bow and his quiver called to him from inside a locked cabinet. With a grunt, the archer drove his foot into the glass. They had never expected the prisoners to get out of their cells, let alone to here, so the sheet of what Robin thought to be glass, was. His foot drove through the clear sheet, and it separated into a thousand shards. Robin seized his archery gear, a number of daggers and a sword. Affixing these to his person in proper order, he checked to make sure he could still draw his bow. Pleased, he nocked an arrow and stepped into the corridor.

Hanging in his shackels Frank could here the beginings of the coming storm, bolts where being sprung and the audiable sounds of gorey violence filled the air. A break out was begining and it sounded like a glorious sight. Mustering all his strengh the metal monstrosity pulled at his bonds with every fibre of his being, but they where still live and even his vast strenght couldnt make them budge a meager inch. Frank needed help.   " Hold the line Armory 1 has been breeched, we cant allow access to the weapons development department. Use of deadly force authorized, Guard  all remaining high priority detainees do not let them get free." the cell door burst open and in rushed two armed guards who then locked the door behind them, " Vasquez and Hudson in position, Frankestein is still bound advise."  " This is Dr Dyson hold that cell, Frankestein is key to my research   bunker down we are sending in our key players.", " Understood Myles, Hudson Lets Rock".

The two guards turn to Frank and he smiles at them " Let rock? really Vasquez  do you think your a marine or something? i think you may have watched to many movies. You do realize either someone breaks down that door and kills u or it will be me. The smart thing to do would be to let me go and  hope my good graces allow you to likewise escape" Hudson gives Vasquez a sharp look " Ignore him hes just trying to unsettle us, we still have this place contained and you heard Myles the players are on the field." Frank laughs loudly and strares at Huson with a look that could cut glass "Your players are probably already dead,  you think the dr is going to say your screwed goodbye?, you have one chance to get out of here alive and your looking at him.". Before Hudson could respond their was a knock at the door , the slat opened revealing another armed guard "Back up" the only two oddly menacing words where exchanged and then the third guard was rushed into the cell.  "Hicks u ok man ? " Vasquez asks.

Hicks looks at the two guards and Frank notices something in his eye a flicker of fire  something unnatural, in an instant the room was bathed with bullets and blood Hicks then fell to his kness as a misty form showered up and out of his flesh. The cloud  then floats ominously towards Frank, upon contact the chains disarm and it whispers to him " Go forth Victor a friend sent me, we shall meet again soon". Bursting away from the wall Frank felt his strenght flow through him once again, reaching down to the still crumpled form of the guard "Hicks" Frank lifts him by the back of his tactial vest and hold him up to his face. "Which way is it to Dyson?" Hicks looks at Franks raging face and simply and calmly raises his gun and fires, blowing his own head to pieces adding further to the already gore splattered walls. In a rage Frank throws the body down on the ground "AHHH i will get you Dyson you hear me" Frank screams .

Frank turns to leave and finds himself face to face with something large and hairy  now snarling in his face,  its shabby fur splattering fresh warm blood over his cold metallic chest. The creatures moonlight blue eyes focussed on Franks robotic red pupils and then lunged at him letting out an earshattering howl as it begain to claw and bite at Franks chest. With a chuckle  he simply slammed the furred beast into the floor and unloaded a flurry of ground shaking punches into it chest leaving it winded and bleeding " Fleabag you just choose the wrong cell to pick a fight in, Goodnight" With the end of the sentance game the horrific punctuation of Frank slamming his fist with furious velocity into the creatures skull. " You will make someone a fine rug" the metallic monster chuckles as he leaves the cell of horrors behind him and strolls into the corridor " Whos else wants to test their metal"

A card with an "M" printed upon him was slipped across the table to Fantomes who looked down upon the card, hiding his puzzlement. Blackman stood from his seat, tucking his umbrella under his arm.
 
"What is this?" Fantomes asked, Blackman tipped his bowler and took a small, polite bow. It dawned on Fantomes that his intel was wrong, that this Blackman fellow who was standing before him wasn't who he claimed to be which meant that the information about his visit that Fantomes had so slickly acquired from the prison's staff was false. Planted by him, possibly. "Who are you?!" Fantomes asked, standing from his chair abruptly, causing it to tip and fall over.
 
"It was a pleasure." Blackman, or "M" said with a taunting smirk. With that, he was gone, and for the first time since he had become a criminal he felt what it was like to be on the other end of the scam. On the other end of a neatly planned plot with string after string of contingency. He knew what it was like to be toyed with, he was the mouse in this situation and this M fellow was the cat, pawing at him, knocking him back and forth. It was far from enjoyable. Up above he could hear guns being fired, explosions and the prison being sealed off. Coincidental that a man who could pull the wool over someone like Fantomes' eyes visits as a breakout was being orchestrated? One thing was sure, he wasn't going to find out from in here, and anything that he could find out from within this comfortable cell was compromised by "M." 
 
That only left one option: Escape.
 
In a quiet wing of the prison where the breakout hadn't reached, he skulked around the corners after escaping his cell. How one escapes a cell with no doors suspended in a well was a story for another time, right now Fantomes was busy getting to work. He peered inside of the prison cells as he strolled along, his drab garbs were gone and replaced with a nicely tailored suit and cane. Using a key card, he freed select prisoners, monsters like Grendel and sociopaths like Tom Ripley. James Hook was delighted when Fantomes reunited him with his hook and the Wicked Witch was grateful for her broom. He knew that they'd want to get some retribution for their imprisonment and thus give him a window to escape. All of them except Ripley who was a man much like himself, he was a mastermind, talented in what he did and Fantomes respected him in that respect which is why he freed him. 
 
They went one way and he went another, avoiding direct conflict at every turn. He stuck to the shadows trying to avoid both the mad men who were let loose and the guards who would have him placed back in his cell. It was in one of the furthest cell blocks that remained untouched by the breakout that he encountered a tall, slender man dressed in the white prison garbs. It was as if this man was standing there in front of his cell, waiting for someone, and it just so happened to be unfortunate for Fantomes that the man was waiting for him but by the time the Frenchman realized it he'd drawn the man's attention.
 
"I was wondering when you would incite such chaos."
 
"Dr. Julius No." Fantomes greeted the man, leaning on his cane as No turned to face him. 
 
"I would have assumed sooner, but I suppose you're waiting gave me much more time to refine how I was going to escape myself to confront you."
 
"As much as I want to take credit for all of this..." Fantomes paused, then a smirk spread across his shadowy features, "Ah, why not? I've helped a fair amount, non? I'm more interested in what you're doing here, Docteur No. Last I heard you were killed by a super spy with a mound of bat guano...sounds like a party I wish I could have attended."
 
"Rumors. I clearly survived." Lifting his arms, he revealed new prosthetic hands. "They made me better, as well."
 
"And all I got was a nice mattress and three gourmet meals." Fantomes scoffed in disappointment. Within moments his metallic hands were wrapped around Fantomes walking stick which was held out in front of him, trying to keep the vicious Dr. No from viciously murdering him. An inky black smoke seeped from the cane's eyes which quickly encircled Dr. No who nearly choked on the thick substance. Kicking the leg out from under Dr. No, he snatched his cane from the man's clutches before striking the man with the cane's silver handle, breaking his nose. No fell to the floor, holding his nose with one hand while Fantomes pinned the other down with his cane. "Tut-tut...I do not think so, Docteur. Who put you up to this? Who paid you off to wait and attack me?"
 
"No one--you idiot!"
 
"So this is actually some sort of vendetta against moi? What exactly have I done to you?" Fantomes asked, arching a brow.
 
"You helped them--you helped the Tongs find me! You're responsible for my hands, you filthy bastard!!" Julius growled, trying to reach Fantomes with his remaining hand. Fantomes didn't immediately realize what he was talking about, but he eventually recalled helping the Tongs find a young man who'd stolen a million dollars in gold from them and agreed he would help the Tongs for a portion of the money returned. The Tongs were initially hesitant, but as it was they were out of a million dollars and it was best to recover as much of that as possible, even if that meant giving a cut to Fantomes. Dr. No had gone under a different name then, apparently. He didn't care to know what they did with the young man once they found him, he merely went about his way once they'd given him a hefty sum of the million they'd reclaimed. He didn't care, but he still heard that the young man was shot through the heart after losing his hands.
 
"And here I thought you were mad because I'm the reason why you were rotting away here seeing as how I supplied Bond with vital information. You have a nasty habit of not dying, I must say. Always surviving." Fantomes voice became disturbingly shaky, Dr. No stopped struggling, looking up at Fantomes with wide eyes. The leathery black of his coat peeled away, forming into bats that swirled around him. He lifted his top hat to bid Dr. No a farewell, but as he did Dr. No could see a monster stalking him from the bottom of the top hat, one that slithered from it, lunging and grasping Dr. No's neck in it's cold grip. He went blind as it covered his eyes, he writhed, tossed and turned as he could feel the monsters painfully tearing the cybernetic hands from his arms. "Adieu, Docteur No. It was a pleasure and I will be taking your hands as a parting gift. You do not mind, I hope." 
 
There he left Dr. No, on the floor of the quiet cell block, a bloody hallucinating mess.

Robin's bow was like an old friend in his hands. He was sure he could close his eyes and the bow would aim for him. Three guards wqith ripped uniforms took positions at the end of the hall leading away from the armoury and aimed their tranquiliser loaded rifles at the outlaw. They didn't even see the outlaw raise the bow, pull the string back and let fly. The arrow hummed musically through the air before burying itself into one man's breast. The remaining two guards saw the shaft sticking from their friend's chest, and one windmilled back, hand over his mouth. Inadvertently, the guard had put himself into a much more vulnerable position. The next arrow buzzed like a bee, as it planted itself into his stomach. The man collapsed and moaned a long, mournful moan. He would die after much suffering. The last guard dropped his rifle and raised his hands in surrender. The outlaw stared down the length of an arrow. The guard saw Robin's eyes soften, and he began to lower his arms. Before they had reached his sides, an arrow flew into his right eye, and the guard fell down dead. He strode over and plucked his arrow from the dead man's skull.  Bracing his foot against the first guards chest, he retrieved his other arrow. The third guard was still alive and began dragging himself away, grunting with each movement. The outlaw stepped on the guards leg, and unsheathed a long dagger. He stepped to the arrow and tugged it out, painfully. The guard let out a yell, and Robin swept down with his blade, severing vocal cords and producing a long arc of crimson blood. Placing the arrows back in his quiver, he sheathed his knife and pulled a clean arrow from his quiver. Nocking it, he continued his search for a way out.

"Heirut, the building's going on lock-down" Derrick strode into the lab. "They're evacuating all the scientist to the lower levels"  
Heirut held a tray of frozen vials, Vangelis' DNA. "What's going on, Derrick?" 
Derrick glanced at Franche. "I'll tell you when we leave, we have to go." 
"Ok, Derrick." Heirut shut the freezer door and walked towards Derrick. 
 "Heirut, what is that?"  
She smiled and sauntered past him. "I'll tell you when we leave, we have to go."
Derrick chuckled and the scientist made a swift exit from the lab.  
Franche examined the lab in silence. His face was blank as his eyes scanned the room, but inside he was burning with anger. I'll kill her, how could she pervert my body for her puerile scientific experiments?! 
Loud thumping, echoing outside the lab, rose in volume until finally the lab door was launched across the room. A prison guard faced Franche with a dead look in his eyes and stalked forward. The restraints on Franche's arms screeched as a red energy sliced them open. The guard stopped in front of Franche and his eyeballs turned ink black. Franche's right arm restraint was burned off, his right leg then finally his left leg, setting him free. He landed on the cold linoleum floor.  
"You're not human, who are you." Vangelis asked as he stood over seven feet tall, towering the guard.  
The guard stared at Franche with black void eyes. Then suddenly the guard screamed in pain. The scream was layered with a low demonic tone and the guards mouth filled with fire. Finally the guard fell to his knees and collapsed to the floor. Franche turned his body over. The guard's eyes had returned to it's normal brown pupils and white eyeballs. The smell of burning flesh traveled up Franche's nose, he noticed the guard's mouth was charred black. His insides were burned to a crisp. He was a host.
Franche searches the room for his clothes to no avail. He dismisses his nudity only to find Doctor Heirut. He marches out the lab and steps into a deep indent in the metallic floor. He realizes these foot indents make a trail leading to the lab. The guard.  
An elevator door rings once and slides open. Franche walks to the open elevator, but it's no one is seen. He enters and presses an elevator floor below the red "Unauthorized!" notice on the floor map. The elevator closes and he goes down to pursue Doctor Heirut.