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Part 1
Dedication to Honour
A cold breeze lapped at Twain's feet, sending a chill through his spine.
"Mr.Matrix. Why are you here?" His high, rasping voice edging on everyone's nerves.
"B.. Bu... But how... How did you know I was here?" Mr.Matrix fumbled, stumbling out of the shadows.
"I know a lot more than you think. Afro, Asher. Will you be so kind?" He chuckled, a pitiful noise at the back of his throat. He walked on, Tiltawhirl joining him, towards the large, outstretched limo that awaited him, leaving the sound of two shots behind him. They entered the car.
"Drive." Tiltawhirl commanded.
The car didn't move.
"DRIVE!" He shook the driver, his limp body peppered with holes. He looked up. Your Honour held a machine gun against the broken glass. Tiltawhirl gulped as Twain grabbed him, shielding the oncoming sheet of bullets. When Twain peeked out from behind Tiltawhirls dead body, there was nothing.
A few days later YH walked into a large shop, a replica of the great gunshop held by Lord Sejemal, only this time run by SonicRav. Rows upon rows, of guns lined the shop, contrasted by the pink carpet and Sonicrav's cheery, pink face. Sh@neo was waiting for him and they briefly exchanged a few views seemingly on the weather. YH turned to SonicRav.
"Show me." He spoke softly, yet a hard, firm tone shone through.
"Show you what?" Sonicrav's arrogant voice echoed throughout the shop.
"Don't play games. Show me the stuff."
"I have no idea what you mean."
With that YH turned, paused, and promptly spun round a punched SonicRav in his beaming face, a drop of blood catching his knuckle. SonicRav wiped a trickle of crimson blood from the corner of his cheek.
"No more games then Mr. YH?" His eyes slanted.
"As I said before, show me."
SonicRav picked himself up and led YH and Sh@neo through the door at the back of the counter.
"Here." SonicRav stated. "They're all here." He handed YH a slender parcel covered in white silk, while he gave a smaller wooden box to Sh@neo. YH's eyes glinted with as he unwrapped the thin sword. He gently tested the edge on sh@neo's now empty crate. It sliced through. A seconds delay, then the box fell apart, it's sides shattered.
Part 2
Sh@neo’s Pride
Twain’s footsteps echoed around the hall as he trundled back and forth, pondering his security. He turned again, to see a tall, cut man leaning in the doorway. Twain swiftly dived back behind TB, who was fingering a sleek, black semi-automatic.
“Heh,” The man spoke clearly “I thought you had more guts than that.”
“ You are?” TB’s educated voice was soft and melodic although he tried to sound gruff.
“S2G. Or at least I am now.”
“S2G?!?” Twain’s voice quavered. He knew S2G. Everyone did. He was renowned for his supreme fighting skills, he was responsible for the death of the Senate, and he alone infiltrated the S2G headquarters, which he borrowed his name from.
S2G took a step forward his dark coat swimming in the vented air. And produced a small handgun. It was unloaded. TB aimed his semi-automatic. S2G picked two dull grey bullets from a pouch round his belt, his eyes smiled at them, and loaded his handgun.
“One for YH, one for Sh@neo.” His voice hardened, a chill setting in the still air.
Meanwhile YH and Sh@neo crawled through a vent towards a pair of guards, jumping down behind them. YH’s blade sliced through one, while Sh@neo’s daggers made short work of the other. They proceeded through the door on the opposite side, nimbly diving through a field of lasers, until they came to a metal door. They looked at each other, YH’s pool of serenity drenching any thought of fear in Sh@neo. They ripped the door, exposing a room of guards. They exchanged looks. YH lifted his blade and sliced the first guard, Sh@neo’s daggers punching holes through the next.
S2G was a lone ranger. Never too close to anyone, never understood. The one person he felt close too was dead. He banished these thoughts from his mind, and returned to watching the fight beneath him. He knew none of the guards stood a chance, YH was too strong and powerful, Sh@neo too nimble and clever. He smiled to himself; he was stronger than them. He was stronger than anyone; he was the strongest person alive. These thought’s comforted the doubts in his mind.
Sh@neo twisted round the last guard, his daggers slashing through the guard’s flesh, blood covering his bloody hands. He joined YH at the next door, their combined blades flashing at the door, and walked through.
“You should always knock.” S2G’s voice startled them. His hand pulled the trigger, one bullet drilled through YH’s ribs, the other had been intended for Sh@neo’s heart, but he’d managed to dive past the bullet, although it had caught his side. S2G smiled. It was a sick smile. He flung his gun aside as Sh@neo dived for him, his daggers caught S2G’s coat, tugging free from his hands and hitting the wall.
“Is that all you’ve got?” S2G’s arrogance was astounding. He blocked Sh@neo’s punch, and pivoted on his left leg, his right catching Sh@neo round the head. He followed up with a second kick, then a third.
“Had enough?” He faltered. His eyes closed, his muscled contracted, emitting a stream of heavy blood from his mouth, YH’s blade was peering through his stomach.
“You ok Sh@neo?” YH held a hand to his ribs, blood stained his shirt and as Sh@neo watched a drop of blood formed and fell on S2G’s deceased body.
“Yeah, thanks to you.” He smiled, got up and picked up his daggers. They both knew Twain had escaped.
Part 3
Guns and Roses
Sh@neo shuffled past the despondent crowd gathered around YH’s grave, looking back one last time, remembering his last exertion had saved his life. He held back the tears, the anger simmering inside him. He walked towards his bike, his feet dragging along the cemetery’s carpet of cold gravel, his head receding into a hood of it’s own, eyes staring at the countless faded graves. As he reached his Harley, he saw a lean man reclining on his bike.
“Move.” Sh@neo was in a bad mood, his heart had plunged through him after YH’s death.
In reply the man just smiled. It wasn’t a menacing smile, but it was cold, cold as stone.
“Could you please move?” Sh@neo voice was strained and irritated.
“Oh, so now Sh@neo is alone?” The man’s voice was deep and relaxed. “Don’t bother asking why. You need someone to… Replace YH.”
Sh@neo, although he didn’t like to admit it, had been thinking that since YH’s death.
“So what are you saying?”
“My names Lodge.”
“Hop on.”
Twain was troubled. He was sure they were dead. How could they survive? No one was stronger than S2G. But then there were two of them. He looked at his new guard. Tom. Was he as strong as he boasted? He reclined into his chair. He could see everything from there, his surveillance in his new stronghold was amazing. Everything was watched, even the vents.
“TB?” His voice rasped.
TB sauntered over. His usual black clothes replaced by a large white coat.
“I want you to stay here, with me.”
“Sure.”
This Tom watched, his eyes darting around in his head, seeing everything. He wanted TB’s place.
Sh@neo drove quickly, slicing through the oncoming traffic, following Lodge’s directions. They pulled up at a tall metallic block. Lodge inputting a 13-digit code, then swiping a card he held. The doors crawled into the walls, revealing a plaza. In the middle a beautiful fountain rippled, surrounded by people, most chatting, some coming and going through doors.
“Welcome.” A short stout man had walked up to them silently.
“Am I glad to see you Berserker!” Lodge replied, his tone suggesting he wasn’t at all glad.
“Follow.” Berserker beckoned.
He lead them up an elevator through many twisting passage ways, until they came into another plaza, much like the one they had first emerged in, only this time it was covered with weapons. In the centre was a large, muscular man standing behind a crome counter. He eyed them with tired yet weary eyes.
“Sh@neo I suppose?” Even his voice was weary.
“Yes, he is Sh@neo.” Lodge’s voice indicated he was tired of him. “Sh@neo, this is MJ.”
“So, what are you looking for?”
“The best.”
He led them through a concealed door.
“Only the finest.” His voice showed he was proud of them.
“I have weapons,” Sh@neo said, showing them his daggers.
Lodge saw what he was looking for, seemingly useless mace.
“A mace?” Sh@neo sounded surprised.
“This is no ordinary mace Sh@neo.” He replied and, just to illustrate his point brought it down upon the floor, a crack opening beneath them. They followed Berserker out, returning to Sh@neo’s Harley. Mounting it Sh@neo noticed a package on the seat. He opened it. It contained two gloves, metal gloves. He put then on, finding them light and easy to wear. He pondered this gift, they matched his daggers perfectly, and there was only one person who knew his daggers well enough, and he was dead.
They arrived at the airport an hour later an after a short uneventful flight arrived at their destination, from which they took a train. Finally the train stopped and they got off, walking towards the silhouette of a cliff. Half way there they stopped and went off the road crawling through the bushes until they came to the cliff. It wasn’t a natural cliff, but a cliff shaped metal plated tower. They found the main entrance. They walked round, finding a second door. Through this Sh@neo went, only to find a group of guards waiting, all armed with semi-automatics. At the front stood Tom.
“You didn’t think we were blind did you?” His voice was light. “Kill him.”
“Stop. Take him to Twain.” TB’s voice overcame Tom’s.
The guards snarled, they had wanted to kill them, he had killed their friends, but they knew what would happen if they didn’t. They led him into a huge hall, with a beautiful stained glass window on the other side.
Twain eyed them with sunken eyes. He was surprised at the easiness of it.
“So, Sh@neo did you really think you could escape me twice?” He snapped.
Sh@neo said nothing. Twain kicked him, sending him into the wall.
“I think I’m going to enjoy this. Guards, leave.”
He dived at Sh@neo, Sh@neo spinning round him and elbowing him in the neck.
“TB? A little help pleas…” He was interrupted by a blow from Sh@neo’s covered hands, the force sending him reeling into the huge window. TB appeared from nowhere and lifted Sh@neo into the air and threw him against the wall, following up with two swift punches. At that moment Tom appeared behind TB and kicked him in the small of the back. Tom then helped up Sh@neo, only to slap him round the head. Twain helped Tom, holding Sh@neo while Tom punched his bleeding face. TB meanwhile was behind them, standing next to the window. Then Lodge appeared, his mace whirling, and struck Tom in the back, sending him into a crumpled heap on the floor, while Sh@neo broke free of Twain’s grasp and sliced his hand. TB dived at Sh@neo sending them both flying through the window. With a mighty scream of rage Lodge brought down the mace missing Twain by inches. TB held on to the platform of glass above him with one hand, his other entangled with Sh@neo’s coat, a this moment his life flashed before him, and he realised he was wrong, Twain was wrong, his life was wrong. Then with a great grunt, he pulled Sh@neo over the ledge. Sh@neo went straight for Twain, who was lining up TB’s gun with Lodge’s head, and slashed the gun with one dagger and drove the other through Twain. Tom sauntered over to TB and lifted his hand off the platform, suspending him in mid air.
“I never liked you. The only reason I joined was for this moment. You killed them. You know you did.”
TB’s face went white. Thoughts flashed through his head, he remembered it now, all to clearly, Tom had been there, he’d been there when he’d killed his wife, he knew. But he didn’t kill them! He knew it wasn’t his fault, his mind raced, then he realised Tom had done it. He’s made him do it. Yes that was it, his eyes rolled now, and unable to cope with his own guilt and his hate of Tom, shoved off the platform, dragging Tom with him.
Prologue
Sh@neo stood by the grave, and placed a rose on it. He rubbed off the moss and read the inscription.
‘Here lies TB
Whose life he sacrificed for others
His memory will always be dear.’
He moved away from the grave, it had been seven years since then. Seven years of peace, yet he knew now both YH and TB would be happier away from the troubles of life, away from greed and pain, anger and sadness. He walked away, the wind tugging at his coat.
Dedication to Honour
A cold breeze lapped at Twain's feet, sending a chill through his spine.
"Mr.Matrix. Why are you here?" His high, rasping voice edging on everyone's nerves.
"B.. Bu... But how... How did you know I was here?" Mr.Matrix fumbled, stumbling out of the shadows.
"I know a lot more than you think. Afro, Asher. Will you be so kind?" He chuckled, a pitiful noise at the back of his throat. He walked on, Tiltawhirl joining him, towards the large, outstretched limo that awaited him, leaving the sound of two shots behind him. They entered the car.
"Drive." Tiltawhirl commanded.
The car didn't move.
"DRIVE!" He shook the driver, his limp body peppered with holes. He looked up. Your Honour held a machine gun against the broken glass. Tiltawhirl gulped as Twain grabbed him, shielding the oncoming sheet of bullets. When Twain peeked out from behind Tiltawhirls dead body, there was nothing.
A few days later YH walked into a large shop, a replica of the great gunshop held by Lord Sejemal, only this time run by SonicRav. Rows upon rows, of guns lined the shop, contrasted by the pink carpet and Sonicrav's cheery, pink face. Sh@neo was waiting for him and they briefly exchanged a few views seemingly on the weather. YH turned to SonicRav.
"Show me." He spoke softly, yet a hard, firm tone shone through.
"Show you what?" Sonicrav's arrogant voice echoed throughout the shop.
"Don't play games. Show me the stuff."
"I have no idea what you mean."
With that YH turned, paused, and promptly spun round a punched SonicRav in his beaming face, a drop of blood catching his knuckle. SonicRav wiped a trickle of crimson blood from the corner of his cheek.
"No more games then Mr. YH?" His eyes slanted.
"As I said before, show me."
SonicRav picked himself up and led YH and Sh@neo through the door at the back of the counter.
"Here." SonicRav stated. "They're all here." He handed YH a slender parcel covered in white silk, while he gave a smaller wooden box to Sh@neo. YH's eyes glinted with as he unwrapped the thin sword. He gently tested the edge on sh@neo's now empty crate. It sliced through. A seconds delay, then the box fell apart, it's sides shattered.
Part 2
Sh@neo’s Pride
Twain’s footsteps echoed around the hall as he trundled back and forth, pondering his security. He turned again, to see a tall, cut man leaning in the doorway. Twain swiftly dived back behind TB, who was fingering a sleek, black semi-automatic.
“Heh,” The man spoke clearly “I thought you had more guts than that.”
“ You are?” TB’s educated voice was soft and melodic although he tried to sound gruff.
“S2G. Or at least I am now.”
“S2G?!?” Twain’s voice quavered. He knew S2G. Everyone did. He was renowned for his supreme fighting skills, he was responsible for the death of the Senate, and he alone infiltrated the S2G headquarters, which he borrowed his name from.
S2G took a step forward his dark coat swimming in the vented air. And produced a small handgun. It was unloaded. TB aimed his semi-automatic. S2G picked two dull grey bullets from a pouch round his belt, his eyes smiled at them, and loaded his handgun.
“One for YH, one for Sh@neo.” His voice hardened, a chill setting in the still air.
Meanwhile YH and Sh@neo crawled through a vent towards a pair of guards, jumping down behind them. YH’s blade sliced through one, while Sh@neo’s daggers made short work of the other. They proceeded through the door on the opposite side, nimbly diving through a field of lasers, until they came to a metal door. They looked at each other, YH’s pool of serenity drenching any thought of fear in Sh@neo. They ripped the door, exposing a room of guards. They exchanged looks. YH lifted his blade and sliced the first guard, Sh@neo’s daggers punching holes through the next.
S2G was a lone ranger. Never too close to anyone, never understood. The one person he felt close too was dead. He banished these thoughts from his mind, and returned to watching the fight beneath him. He knew none of the guards stood a chance, YH was too strong and powerful, Sh@neo too nimble and clever. He smiled to himself; he was stronger than them. He was stronger than anyone; he was the strongest person alive. These thought’s comforted the doubts in his mind.
Sh@neo twisted round the last guard, his daggers slashing through the guard’s flesh, blood covering his bloody hands. He joined YH at the next door, their combined blades flashing at the door, and walked through.
“You should always knock.” S2G’s voice startled them. His hand pulled the trigger, one bullet drilled through YH’s ribs, the other had been intended for Sh@neo’s heart, but he’d managed to dive past the bullet, although it had caught his side. S2G smiled. It was a sick smile. He flung his gun aside as Sh@neo dived for him, his daggers caught S2G’s coat, tugging free from his hands and hitting the wall.
“Is that all you’ve got?” S2G’s arrogance was astounding. He blocked Sh@neo’s punch, and pivoted on his left leg, his right catching Sh@neo round the head. He followed up with a second kick, then a third.
“Had enough?” He faltered. His eyes closed, his muscled contracted, emitting a stream of heavy blood from his mouth, YH’s blade was peering through his stomach.
“You ok Sh@neo?” YH held a hand to his ribs, blood stained his shirt and as Sh@neo watched a drop of blood formed and fell on S2G’s deceased body.
“Yeah, thanks to you.” He smiled, got up and picked up his daggers. They both knew Twain had escaped.
Part 3
Guns and Roses
Sh@neo shuffled past the despondent crowd gathered around YH’s grave, looking back one last time, remembering his last exertion had saved his life. He held back the tears, the anger simmering inside him. He walked towards his bike, his feet dragging along the cemetery’s carpet of cold gravel, his head receding into a hood of it’s own, eyes staring at the countless faded graves. As he reached his Harley, he saw a lean man reclining on his bike.
“Move.” Sh@neo was in a bad mood, his heart had plunged through him after YH’s death.
In reply the man just smiled. It wasn’t a menacing smile, but it was cold, cold as stone.
“Could you please move?” Sh@neo voice was strained and irritated.
“Oh, so now Sh@neo is alone?” The man’s voice was deep and relaxed. “Don’t bother asking why. You need someone to… Replace YH.”
Sh@neo, although he didn’t like to admit it, had been thinking that since YH’s death.
“So what are you saying?”
“My names Lodge.”
“Hop on.”
Twain was troubled. He was sure they were dead. How could they survive? No one was stronger than S2G. But then there were two of them. He looked at his new guard. Tom. Was he as strong as he boasted? He reclined into his chair. He could see everything from there, his surveillance in his new stronghold was amazing. Everything was watched, even the vents.
“TB?” His voice rasped.
TB sauntered over. His usual black clothes replaced by a large white coat.
“I want you to stay here, with me.”
“Sure.”
This Tom watched, his eyes darting around in his head, seeing everything. He wanted TB’s place.
Sh@neo drove quickly, slicing through the oncoming traffic, following Lodge’s directions. They pulled up at a tall metallic block. Lodge inputting a 13-digit code, then swiping a card he held. The doors crawled into the walls, revealing a plaza. In the middle a beautiful fountain rippled, surrounded by people, most chatting, some coming and going through doors.
“Welcome.” A short stout man had walked up to them silently.
“Am I glad to see you Berserker!” Lodge replied, his tone suggesting he wasn’t at all glad.
“Follow.” Berserker beckoned.
He lead them up an elevator through many twisting passage ways, until they came into another plaza, much like the one they had first emerged in, only this time it was covered with weapons. In the centre was a large, muscular man standing behind a crome counter. He eyed them with tired yet weary eyes.
“Sh@neo I suppose?” Even his voice was weary.
“Yes, he is Sh@neo.” Lodge’s voice indicated he was tired of him. “Sh@neo, this is MJ.”
“So, what are you looking for?”
“The best.”
He led them through a concealed door.
“Only the finest.” His voice showed he was proud of them.
“I have weapons,” Sh@neo said, showing them his daggers.
Lodge saw what he was looking for, seemingly useless mace.
“A mace?” Sh@neo sounded surprised.
“This is no ordinary mace Sh@neo.” He replied and, just to illustrate his point brought it down upon the floor, a crack opening beneath them. They followed Berserker out, returning to Sh@neo’s Harley. Mounting it Sh@neo noticed a package on the seat. He opened it. It contained two gloves, metal gloves. He put then on, finding them light and easy to wear. He pondered this gift, they matched his daggers perfectly, and there was only one person who knew his daggers well enough, and he was dead.
They arrived at the airport an hour later an after a short uneventful flight arrived at their destination, from which they took a train. Finally the train stopped and they got off, walking towards the silhouette of a cliff. Half way there they stopped and went off the road crawling through the bushes until they came to the cliff. It wasn’t a natural cliff, but a cliff shaped metal plated tower. They found the main entrance. They walked round, finding a second door. Through this Sh@neo went, only to find a group of guards waiting, all armed with semi-automatics. At the front stood Tom.
“You didn’t think we were blind did you?” His voice was light. “Kill him.”
“Stop. Take him to Twain.” TB’s voice overcame Tom’s.
The guards snarled, they had wanted to kill them, he had killed their friends, but they knew what would happen if they didn’t. They led him into a huge hall, with a beautiful stained glass window on the other side.
Twain eyed them with sunken eyes. He was surprised at the easiness of it.
“So, Sh@neo did you really think you could escape me twice?” He snapped.
Sh@neo said nothing. Twain kicked him, sending him into the wall.
“I think I’m going to enjoy this. Guards, leave.”
He dived at Sh@neo, Sh@neo spinning round him and elbowing him in the neck.
“TB? A little help pleas…” He was interrupted by a blow from Sh@neo’s covered hands, the force sending him reeling into the huge window. TB appeared from nowhere and lifted Sh@neo into the air and threw him against the wall, following up with two swift punches. At that moment Tom appeared behind TB and kicked him in the small of the back. Tom then helped up Sh@neo, only to slap him round the head. Twain helped Tom, holding Sh@neo while Tom punched his bleeding face. TB meanwhile was behind them, standing next to the window. Then Lodge appeared, his mace whirling, and struck Tom in the back, sending him into a crumpled heap on the floor, while Sh@neo broke free of Twain’s grasp and sliced his hand. TB dived at Sh@neo sending them both flying through the window. With a mighty scream of rage Lodge brought down the mace missing Twain by inches. TB held on to the platform of glass above him with one hand, his other entangled with Sh@neo’s coat, a this moment his life flashed before him, and he realised he was wrong, Twain was wrong, his life was wrong. Then with a great grunt, he pulled Sh@neo over the ledge. Sh@neo went straight for Twain, who was lining up TB’s gun with Lodge’s head, and slashed the gun with one dagger and drove the other through Twain. Tom sauntered over to TB and lifted his hand off the platform, suspending him in mid air.
“I never liked you. The only reason I joined was for this moment. You killed them. You know you did.”
TB’s face went white. Thoughts flashed through his head, he remembered it now, all to clearly, Tom had been there, he’d been there when he’d killed his wife, he knew. But he didn’t kill them! He knew it wasn’t his fault, his mind raced, then he realised Tom had done it. He’s made him do it. Yes that was it, his eyes rolled now, and unable to cope with his own guilt and his hate of Tom, shoved off the platform, dragging Tom with him.
Prologue
Sh@neo stood by the grave, and placed a rose on it. He rubbed off the moss and read the inscription.
‘Here lies TB
Whose life he sacrificed for others
His memory will always be dear.’
He moved away from the grave, it had been seven years since then. Seven years of peace, yet he knew now both YH and TB would be happier away from the troubles of life, away from greed and pain, anger and sadness. He walked away, the wind tugging at his coat.
Sibs wrote:
Hmm...
Pretty good, but didn't really get the background of the plot...Nevermind.
Surprising, there was one :D.
Hmm...
Pretty good, but didn't really get the background of the plot...Nevermind.
Surprising, there was one :D.
hmm...
Pretty good, but didn't really get the background of the plot... nevermind.
Pretty good, but didn't really get the background of the plot... nevermind.
That was good, well done!
Sorry, I meant to put Epilogue rather than Prologue :).
Part 1
Dedication to Honour
A cold breeze lapped at Twain's feet, sending a chill through his spine.
"Mr.Matrix. Why are you here?" His high, rasping voice edging on everyone's nerves.
"B.. Bu... But how... How did you know I was here?" Mr.Matrix fumbled, stumbling out of the shadows.
"I know a lot more than you think. Afro, Asher. Will you be so kind?" He chuckled, a pitiful noise at the back of his throat. He walked on, Tiltawhirl joining him, towards the large, outstretched limo that awaited him, leaving the sound of two shots behind him. They entered the car.
"Drive." Tiltawhirl commanded.
The car didn't move.
"DRIVE!" He shook the driver, his limp body peppered with holes. He looked up. Your Honour held a machine gun against the broken glass. Tiltawhirl gulped as Twain grabbed him, shielding the oncoming sheet of bullets. When Twain peeked out from behind Tiltawhirls dead body, there was nothing.
A few days later YH walked into a large shop, a replica of the great gunshop held by Lord Sejemal, only this time run by SonicRav. Rows upon rows, of guns lined the shop, contrasted by the pink carpet and Sonicrav's cheery, pink face. Sh@neo was waiting for him and they briefly exchanged a few views seemingly on the weather. YH turned to SonicRav.
"Show me." He spoke softly, yet a hard, firm tone shone through.
"Show you what?" Sonicrav's arrogant voice echoed throughout the shop.
"Don't play games. Show me the stuff."
"I have no idea what you mean."
With that YH turned, paused, and promptly spun round a punched SonicRav in his beaming face, a drop of blood catching his knuckle. SonicRav wiped a trickle of crimson blood from the corner of his cheek.
"No more games then Mr. YH?" His eyes slanted.
"As I said before, show me."
SonicRav picked himself up and led YH and Sh@neo through the door at the back of the counter.
"Here." SonicRav stated. "They're all here." He handed YH a slender parcel covered in white silk, while he gave a smaller wooden box to Sh@neo. YH's eyes glinted with as he unwrapped the thin sword. He gently tested the edge on sh@neo's now empty crate. It sliced through. A seconds delay, then the box fell apart, it's sides shattered.
Part 2
Sh@neo’s Pride
Twain’s footsteps echoed around the hall as he trundled back and forth, pondering his security. He turned again, to see a tall, cut man leaning in the doorway. Twain swiftly dived back behind TB, who was fingering a sleek, black semi-automatic.
“Heh,” The man spoke clearly “I thought you had more guts than that.”
“ You are?” TB’s educated voice was soft and melodic although he tried to sound gruff.
“S2G. Or at least I am now.”
“S2G?!?” Twain’s voice quavered. He knew S2G. Everyone did. He was renowned for his supreme fighting skills, he was responsible for the death of the Senate, and he alone infiltrated the S2G headquarters, which he borrowed his name from.
S2G took a step forward his dark coat swimming in the vented air. And produced a small handgun. It was unloaded. TB aimed his semi-automatic. S2G picked two dull grey bullets from a pouch round his belt, his eyes smiled at them, and loaded his handgun.
“One for YH, one for Sh@neo.” His voice hardened, a chill setting in the still air.
Meanwhile YH and Sh@neo crawled through a vent towards a pair of guards, jumping down behind them. YH’s blade sliced through one, while Sh@neo’s daggers made short work of the other. They proceeded through the door on the opposite side, nimbly diving through a field of lasers, until they came to a metal door. They looked at each other, YH’s pool of serenity drenching any thought of fear in Sh@neo. They ripped the door, exposing a room of guards. They exchanged looks. YH lifted his blade and sliced the first guard, Sh@neo’s daggers punching holes through the next.
S2G was a lone ranger. Never too close to anyone, never understood. The one person he felt close too was dead. He banished these thoughts from his mind, and returned to watching the fight beneath him. He knew none of the guards stood a chance, YH was too strong and powerful, Sh@neo too nimble and clever. He smiled to himself; he was stronger than them. He was stronger than anyone; he was the strongest person alive. These thought’s comforted the doubts in his mind.
Sh@neo twisted round the last guard, his daggers slashing through the guard’s flesh, blood covering his bloody hands. He joined YH at the next door, their combined blades flashing at the door, and walked through.
“You should always knock.” S2G’s voice startled them. His hand pulled the trigger, one bullet drilled through YH’s ribs, the other had been intended for Sh@neo’s heart, but he’d managed to dive past the bullet, although it had caught his side. S2G smiled. It was a sick smile. He flung his gun aside as Sh@neo dived for him, his daggers caught S2G’s coat, tugging free from his hands and hitting the wall.
“Is that all you’ve got?” S2G’s arrogance was astounding. He blocked Sh@neo’s punch, and pivoted on his left leg, his right catching Sh@neo round the head. He followed up with a second kick, then a third.
“Had enough?” He faltered. His eyes closed, his muscled contracted, emitting a stream of heavy blood from his mouth, YH’s blade was peering through his stomach.
“You ok Sh@neo?” YH held a hand to his ribs, blood stained his shirt and as Sh@neo watched a drop of blood formed and fell on S2G’s deceased body.
“Yeah, thanks to you.” He smiled, got up and picked up his daggers. They both knew Twain had escaped.
Part 3
Guns and Roses
Sh@neo shuffled past the despondent crowd gathered around YH’s grave, looking back one last time, remembering his last exertion had saved his life. He held back the tears, the anger simmering inside him. He walked towards his bike, his feet dragging along the cemetery’s carpet of cold gravel, his head receding into a hood of it’s own, eyes staring at the countless faded graves. As he reached his Harley, he saw a lean man reclining on his bike.
“Move.” Sh@neo was in a bad mood, his heart had plunged through him after YH’s death.
In reply the man just smiled. It wasn’t a menacing smile, but it was cold, cold as stone.
“Could you please move?” Sh@neo voice was strained and irritated.
“Oh, so now Sh@neo is alone?” The man’s voice was deep and relaxed. “Don’t bother asking why. You need someone to… Replace YH.”
Sh@neo, although he didn’t like to admit it, had been thinking that since YH’s death.
“So what are you saying?”
“My names Lodge.”
“Hop on.”
Twain was troubled. He was sure they were dead. How could they survive? No one was stronger than S2G. But then there were two of them. He looked at his new guard. Tom. Was he as strong as he boasted? He reclined into his chair. He could see everything from there, his surveillance in his new stronghold was amazing. Everything was watched, even the vents.
“TB?” His voice rasped.
TB sauntered over. His usual black clothes replaced by a large white coat.
“I want you to stay here, with me.”
“Sure.”
This Tom watched, his eyes darting around in his head, seeing everything. He wanted TB’s place.
Sh@neo drove quickly, slicing through the oncoming traffic, following Lodge’s directions. They pulled up at a tall metallic block. Lodge inputting a 13-digit code, then swiping a card he held. The doors crawled into the walls, revealing a plaza. In the middle a beautiful fountain rippled, surrounded by people, most chatting, some coming and going through doors.
“Welcome.” A short stout man had walked up to them silently.
“Am I glad to see you Berserker!” Lodge replied, his tone suggesting he wasn’t at all glad.
“Follow.” Berserker beckoned.
He lead them up an elevator through many twisting passage ways, until they came into another plaza, much like the one they had first emerged in, only this time it was covered with weapons. In the centre was a large, muscular man standing behind a crome counter. He eyed them with tired yet weary eyes.
“Sh@neo I suppose?” Even his voice was weary.
“Yes, he is Sh@neo.” Lodge’s voice indicated he was tired of him. “Sh@neo, this is MJ.”
“So, what are you looking for?”
“The best.”
He led them through a concealed door.
“Only the finest.” His voice showed he was proud of them.
“I have weapons,” Sh@neo said, showing them his daggers.
Lodge saw what he was looking for, seemingly useless mace.
“A mace?” Sh@neo sounded surprised.
“This is no ordinary mace Sh@neo.” He replied and, just to illustrate his point brought it down upon the floor, a crack opening beneath them. They followed Berserker out, returning to Sh@neo’s Harley. Mounting it Sh@neo noticed a package on the seat. He opened it. It contained two gloves, metal gloves. He put then on, finding them light and easy to wear. He pondered this gift, they matched his daggers perfectly, and there was only one person who knew his daggers well enough, and he was dead.
They arrived at the airport an hour later an after a short uneventful flight arrived at their destination, from which they took a train. Finally the train stopped and they got off, walking towards the silhouette of a cliff. Half way there they stopped and went off the road crawling through the bushes until they came to the cliff. It wasn’t a natural cliff, but a cliff shaped metal plated tower. They found the main entrance. They walked round, finding a second door. Through this Sh@neo went, only to find a group of guards waiting, all armed with semi-automatics. At the front stood Tom.
“You didn’t think we were blind did you?” His voice was light. “Kill him.”
“Stop. Take him to Twain.” TB’s voice overcame Tom’s.
The guards snarled, they had wanted to kill them, he had killed their friends, but they knew what would happen if they didn’t. They led him into a huge hall, with a beautiful stained glass window on the other side.
Twain eyed them with sunken eyes. He was surprised at the easiness of it.
“So, Sh@neo did you really think you could escape me twice?” He snapped.
Sh@neo said nothing. Twain kicked him, sending him into the wall.
“I think I’m going to enjoy this. Guards, leave.”
He dived at Sh@neo, Sh@neo spinning round him and elbowing him in the neck.
“TB? A little help pleas…” He was interrupted by a blow from Sh@neo’s covered hands, the force sending him reeling into the huge window. TB appeared from nowhere and lifted Sh@neo into the air and threw him against the wall, following up with two swift punches. At that moment Tom appeared behind TB and kicked him in the small of the back. Tom then helped up Sh@neo, only to slap him round the head. Twain helped Tom, holding Sh@neo while Tom punched his bleeding face. TB meanwhile was behind them, standing next to the window. Then Lodge appeared, his mace whirling, and struck Tom in the back, sending him into a crumpled heap on the floor, while Sh@neo broke free of Twain’s grasp and sliced his hand. TB dived at Sh@neo sending them both flying through the window. With a mighty scream of rage Lodge brought down the mace missing Twain by inches. TB held on to the platform of glass above him with one hand, his other entangled with Sh@neo’s coat, a this moment his life flashed before him, and he realised he was wrong, Twain was wrong, his life was wrong. Then with a great grunt, he pulled Sh@neo over the ledge. Sh@neo went straight for Twain, who was lining up TB’s gun with Lodge’s head, and slashed the gun with one dagger and drove the other through Twain. Tom sauntered over to TB and lifted his hand off the platform, suspending him in mid air.
“I never liked you. The only reason I joined was for this moment. You killed them. You know you did.”
TB’s face went white. Thoughts flashed through his head, he remembered it now, all to clearly, Tom had been there, he’d been there when he’d killed his wife, he knew. But he didn’t kill them! He knew it wasn’t his fault, his mind raced, then he realised Tom had done it. He’s made him do it. Yes that was it, his eyes rolled now, and unable to cope with his own guilt and his hate of Tom, shoved off the platform, dragging Tom with him.
Prologue
Sh@neo stood by the grave, and placed a rose on it. He rubbed off the moss and read the inscription.
‘Here lies TB
Whose life he sacrificed for others
His memory will always be dear.’
He moved away from the grave, it had been seven years since then. Seven years of peace, yet he knew now both YH and TB would be happier away from the troubles of life, away from greed and pain, anger and sadness. He walked away, the wind tugging at his coat.
Dedication to Honour
A cold breeze lapped at Twain's feet, sending a chill through his spine.
"Mr.Matrix. Why are you here?" His high, rasping voice edging on everyone's nerves.
"B.. Bu... But how... How did you know I was here?" Mr.Matrix fumbled, stumbling out of the shadows.
"I know a lot more than you think. Afro, Asher. Will you be so kind?" He chuckled, a pitiful noise at the back of his throat. He walked on, Tiltawhirl joining him, towards the large, outstretched limo that awaited him, leaving the sound of two shots behind him. They entered the car.
"Drive." Tiltawhirl commanded.
The car didn't move.
"DRIVE!" He shook the driver, his limp body peppered with holes. He looked up. Your Honour held a machine gun against the broken glass. Tiltawhirl gulped as Twain grabbed him, shielding the oncoming sheet of bullets. When Twain peeked out from behind Tiltawhirls dead body, there was nothing.
A few days later YH walked into a large shop, a replica of the great gunshop held by Lord Sejemal, only this time run by SonicRav. Rows upon rows, of guns lined the shop, contrasted by the pink carpet and Sonicrav's cheery, pink face. Sh@neo was waiting for him and they briefly exchanged a few views seemingly on the weather. YH turned to SonicRav.
"Show me." He spoke softly, yet a hard, firm tone shone through.
"Show you what?" Sonicrav's arrogant voice echoed throughout the shop.
"Don't play games. Show me the stuff."
"I have no idea what you mean."
With that YH turned, paused, and promptly spun round a punched SonicRav in his beaming face, a drop of blood catching his knuckle. SonicRav wiped a trickle of crimson blood from the corner of his cheek.
"No more games then Mr. YH?" His eyes slanted.
"As I said before, show me."
SonicRav picked himself up and led YH and Sh@neo through the door at the back of the counter.
"Here." SonicRav stated. "They're all here." He handed YH a slender parcel covered in white silk, while he gave a smaller wooden box to Sh@neo. YH's eyes glinted with as he unwrapped the thin sword. He gently tested the edge on sh@neo's now empty crate. It sliced through. A seconds delay, then the box fell apart, it's sides shattered.
Part 2
Sh@neo’s Pride
Twain’s footsteps echoed around the hall as he trundled back and forth, pondering his security. He turned again, to see a tall, cut man leaning in the doorway. Twain swiftly dived back behind TB, who was fingering a sleek, black semi-automatic.
“Heh,” The man spoke clearly “I thought you had more guts than that.”
“ You are?” TB’s educated voice was soft and melodic although he tried to sound gruff.
“S2G. Or at least I am now.”
“S2G?!?” Twain’s voice quavered. He knew S2G. Everyone did. He was renowned for his supreme fighting skills, he was responsible for the death of the Senate, and he alone infiltrated the S2G headquarters, which he borrowed his name from.
S2G took a step forward his dark coat swimming in the vented air. And produced a small handgun. It was unloaded. TB aimed his semi-automatic. S2G picked two dull grey bullets from a pouch round his belt, his eyes smiled at them, and loaded his handgun.
“One for YH, one for Sh@neo.” His voice hardened, a chill setting in the still air.
Meanwhile YH and Sh@neo crawled through a vent towards a pair of guards, jumping down behind them. YH’s blade sliced through one, while Sh@neo’s daggers made short work of the other. They proceeded through the door on the opposite side, nimbly diving through a field of lasers, until they came to a metal door. They looked at each other, YH’s pool of serenity drenching any thought of fear in Sh@neo. They ripped the door, exposing a room of guards. They exchanged looks. YH lifted his blade and sliced the first guard, Sh@neo’s daggers punching holes through the next.
S2G was a lone ranger. Never too close to anyone, never understood. The one person he felt close too was dead. He banished these thoughts from his mind, and returned to watching the fight beneath him. He knew none of the guards stood a chance, YH was too strong and powerful, Sh@neo too nimble and clever. He smiled to himself; he was stronger than them. He was stronger than anyone; he was the strongest person alive. These thought’s comforted the doubts in his mind.
Sh@neo twisted round the last guard, his daggers slashing through the guard’s flesh, blood covering his bloody hands. He joined YH at the next door, their combined blades flashing at the door, and walked through.
“You should always knock.” S2G’s voice startled them. His hand pulled the trigger, one bullet drilled through YH’s ribs, the other had been intended for Sh@neo’s heart, but he’d managed to dive past the bullet, although it had caught his side. S2G smiled. It was a sick smile. He flung his gun aside as Sh@neo dived for him, his daggers caught S2G’s coat, tugging free from his hands and hitting the wall.
“Is that all you’ve got?” S2G’s arrogance was astounding. He blocked Sh@neo’s punch, and pivoted on his left leg, his right catching Sh@neo round the head. He followed up with a second kick, then a third.
“Had enough?” He faltered. His eyes closed, his muscled contracted, emitting a stream of heavy blood from his mouth, YH’s blade was peering through his stomach.
“You ok Sh@neo?” YH held a hand to his ribs, blood stained his shirt and as Sh@neo watched a drop of blood formed and fell on S2G’s deceased body.
“Yeah, thanks to you.” He smiled, got up and picked up his daggers. They both knew Twain had escaped.
Part 3
Guns and Roses
Sh@neo shuffled past the despondent crowd gathered around YH’s grave, looking back one last time, remembering his last exertion had saved his life. He held back the tears, the anger simmering inside him. He walked towards his bike, his feet dragging along the cemetery’s carpet of cold gravel, his head receding into a hood of it’s own, eyes staring at the countless faded graves. As he reached his Harley, he saw a lean man reclining on his bike.
“Move.” Sh@neo was in a bad mood, his heart had plunged through him after YH’s death.
In reply the man just smiled. It wasn’t a menacing smile, but it was cold, cold as stone.
“Could you please move?” Sh@neo voice was strained and irritated.
“Oh, so now Sh@neo is alone?” The man’s voice was deep and relaxed. “Don’t bother asking why. You need someone to… Replace YH.”
Sh@neo, although he didn’t like to admit it, had been thinking that since YH’s death.
“So what are you saying?”
“My names Lodge.”
“Hop on.”
Twain was troubled. He was sure they were dead. How could they survive? No one was stronger than S2G. But then there were two of them. He looked at his new guard. Tom. Was he as strong as he boasted? He reclined into his chair. He could see everything from there, his surveillance in his new stronghold was amazing. Everything was watched, even the vents.
“TB?” His voice rasped.
TB sauntered over. His usual black clothes replaced by a large white coat.
“I want you to stay here, with me.”
“Sure.”
This Tom watched, his eyes darting around in his head, seeing everything. He wanted TB’s place.
Sh@neo drove quickly, slicing through the oncoming traffic, following Lodge’s directions. They pulled up at a tall metallic block. Lodge inputting a 13-digit code, then swiping a card he held. The doors crawled into the walls, revealing a plaza. In the middle a beautiful fountain rippled, surrounded by people, most chatting, some coming and going through doors.
“Welcome.” A short stout man had walked up to them silently.
“Am I glad to see you Berserker!” Lodge replied, his tone suggesting he wasn’t at all glad.
“Follow.” Berserker beckoned.
He lead them up an elevator through many twisting passage ways, until they came into another plaza, much like the one they had first emerged in, only this time it was covered with weapons. In the centre was a large, muscular man standing behind a crome counter. He eyed them with tired yet weary eyes.
“Sh@neo I suppose?” Even his voice was weary.
“Yes, he is Sh@neo.” Lodge’s voice indicated he was tired of him. “Sh@neo, this is MJ.”
“So, what are you looking for?”
“The best.”
He led them through a concealed door.
“Only the finest.” His voice showed he was proud of them.
“I have weapons,” Sh@neo said, showing them his daggers.
Lodge saw what he was looking for, seemingly useless mace.
“A mace?” Sh@neo sounded surprised.
“This is no ordinary mace Sh@neo.” He replied and, just to illustrate his point brought it down upon the floor, a crack opening beneath them. They followed Berserker out, returning to Sh@neo’s Harley. Mounting it Sh@neo noticed a package on the seat. He opened it. It contained two gloves, metal gloves. He put then on, finding them light and easy to wear. He pondered this gift, they matched his daggers perfectly, and there was only one person who knew his daggers well enough, and he was dead.
They arrived at the airport an hour later an after a short uneventful flight arrived at their destination, from which they took a train. Finally the train stopped and they got off, walking towards the silhouette of a cliff. Half way there they stopped and went off the road crawling through the bushes until they came to the cliff. It wasn’t a natural cliff, but a cliff shaped metal plated tower. They found the main entrance. They walked round, finding a second door. Through this Sh@neo went, only to find a group of guards waiting, all armed with semi-automatics. At the front stood Tom.
“You didn’t think we were blind did you?” His voice was light. “Kill him.”
“Stop. Take him to Twain.” TB’s voice overcame Tom’s.
The guards snarled, they had wanted to kill them, he had killed their friends, but they knew what would happen if they didn’t. They led him into a huge hall, with a beautiful stained glass window on the other side.
Twain eyed them with sunken eyes. He was surprised at the easiness of it.
“So, Sh@neo did you really think you could escape me twice?” He snapped.
Sh@neo said nothing. Twain kicked him, sending him into the wall.
“I think I’m going to enjoy this. Guards, leave.”
He dived at Sh@neo, Sh@neo spinning round him and elbowing him in the neck.
“TB? A little help pleas…” He was interrupted by a blow from Sh@neo’s covered hands, the force sending him reeling into the huge window. TB appeared from nowhere and lifted Sh@neo into the air and threw him against the wall, following up with two swift punches. At that moment Tom appeared behind TB and kicked him in the small of the back. Tom then helped up Sh@neo, only to slap him round the head. Twain helped Tom, holding Sh@neo while Tom punched his bleeding face. TB meanwhile was behind them, standing next to the window. Then Lodge appeared, his mace whirling, and struck Tom in the back, sending him into a crumpled heap on the floor, while Sh@neo broke free of Twain’s grasp and sliced his hand. TB dived at Sh@neo sending them both flying through the window. With a mighty scream of rage Lodge brought down the mace missing Twain by inches. TB held on to the platform of glass above him with one hand, his other entangled with Sh@neo’s coat, a this moment his life flashed before him, and he realised he was wrong, Twain was wrong, his life was wrong. Then with a great grunt, he pulled Sh@neo over the ledge. Sh@neo went straight for Twain, who was lining up TB’s gun with Lodge’s head, and slashed the gun with one dagger and drove the other through Twain. Tom sauntered over to TB and lifted his hand off the platform, suspending him in mid air.
“I never liked you. The only reason I joined was for this moment. You killed them. You know you did.”
TB’s face went white. Thoughts flashed through his head, he remembered it now, all to clearly, Tom had been there, he’d been there when he’d killed his wife, he knew. But he didn’t kill them! He knew it wasn’t his fault, his mind raced, then he realised Tom had done it. He’s made him do it. Yes that was it, his eyes rolled now, and unable to cope with his own guilt and his hate of Tom, shoved off the platform, dragging Tom with him.
Prologue
Sh@neo stood by the grave, and placed a rose on it. He rubbed off the moss and read the inscription.
‘Here lies TB
Whose life he sacrificed for others
His memory will always be dear.’
He moved away from the grave, it had been seven years since then. Seven years of peace, yet he knew now both YH and TB would be happier away from the troubles of life, away from greed and pain, anger and sadness. He walked away, the wind tugging at his coat.