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Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4224397" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>Darkest Calling: Part 4b – The Well</strong></p><p></p><p>Blade cleared the lip of the well. The guards were talking amongst themselves, fiddling with the cistrons, trying to figure out how they worked. They were all run by biometrics, fingerprint recognition. The cistrons wouldn’t work for them, but the guards didn’t know that.</p><p></p><p>Blade came up behind one guard and grabbed him in a choke hold. With a roar, he flung the man into the well. The guard, cistron and all, went hurdling into the pit.</p><p></p><p>The other guard drew his pistol. Blade chopped it out of his hand with an open palm jab. </p><p></p><p>The guard swung at him, but Blade caught the punch easily in his palm. He squeezed, and the guard screamed as his fist dripped blood.</p><p></p><p>Hurling him like a rag doll, Blade tossed the second guard into the pit.</p><p></p><p>Then Guppy started shouting about the guards having to check in. A walkie-talkie sailed over the edge of the well. Blade caught it just as the voice on the other end rose in alarm.</p><p></p><p>“Everything’s fine,” he said in the O’odham dialect. It was difficult – he had always considered himself Apache. His father was Apache, his mother Navajo. The Kokoham lineage was a myth that Palmer used to tell him when he was a child. It made Blade feel better about himself when his father beat him in one of his drunken rages.</p><p></p><p>But now Blade had a chance to be a hero. He shouted down for his teammates to find something to help them climb up. If they tied the clothes of the guards together…</p><p></p><p>Up top, nearby cacti suddenly lurched forward, grabbing Blade’s arms as if they were refugees from some Wizard of Oz set. </p><p></p><p>Out of the darkness strode John Takoda and his men. They were all there: Knightly, the renegade police officers, the entire tribe had turned out to see the last sacrifice. They watched in complete silence. </p><p></p><p>“Your O’odham needs some work,” said Takoda quietly. “Why are you fighting your destiny?”</p><p></p><p>“Fighting?” Blade snarled. “Give me my hatchets and I’ll show you fighting.”</p><p></p><p>“You do not understand.” They tied him up again, his legs too this time. Then they tossed Blade into the back of a jeep. “Think of the dark spirits you have defeated.”</p><p></p><p><em>“He’s trying to trick you,”</em> whispered the voice. <em>“Don’t listen to him.”</em></p><p></p><p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” snarled Blade.</p><p></p><p>“I think you do. First you defeated the Traveler. Then Thin Jack. Then the Skinwalker. I dispelled the Festering Shambler. There is but one more spirit and one more sacrifice to be made. Will you not go honorably?”</p><p></p><p>The jeep bounced along as they drove out to the spot of the sacrifice. </p><p></p><p>Blade growled. “This is not about honor.” He strained at his bonds. “This is about survival. There is no fifth creature! You’re just killing innocent people for no reason!”</p><p></p><p><em>“Kill them,”</em> whispered the voice. <em>“Or they will kill us.”</em></p><p></p><p>The jeep squealed to a stop. Takoda’s men lifted Blade out and strapped him down to the ground.</p><p></p><p><em>“You will be my high priest.”</em></p><p></p><p>“I disagree,” said Takoda. “And deep in your heart, you know the truth. Coyote knows it. Your ancestors know it. Palmer knew it. These sacrifices are why you succeeded. They had to happen, or you would not have defeated those spirits.”</p><p></p><p><em>“You will call down the shapes of night to worship me at the times of year.”</em></p><p></p><p>“There’s no fifth spirit!” shouted Blade, flailing at his bonds. “This is a bunch of supernatural garbage!”</p><p></p><p><em>“You will prostrate yourself before me and in return you will survive when the earth is cleared off for the Great Old Ones.”</em></p><p></p><p>Takoda began carving symbols into his flesh. Strangely, it didn’t hurt at all.</p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“You will go beyond the rim to what stirs out of the light…”</em></p><p></p><p>“Are you so blinded that you do not see?” He reached into a small pot of gray paint and placed five dots on Blade’s forehead. </p><p></p><p>“There’s nothing to see!” shouted something that was not Blade’s voice. It came from one of his palms. </p><p></p><p>Takoda shined his flashlight on Blade’s open palm. A fanged maw had erupted there like a wart, teeth and a long tongue trailing bloody saliva as it shrieked. </p><p></p><p>“YOU are the final spirit,” said Takoda sadly. “And the final sacrifice. You are both man’s destruction and salvation.”</p><p></p><p>He began chanting over Blade’s body. </p><p></p><p>Blade’s body shuddered. With a roar, he easily snapped the bonds. </p><p></p><p>The shaman looked down in surprise as an open palm gripped his face, tearing off his nose. He was tossed aside effortlessly.</p><p></p><p>Bullets thudded into his flesh. The police, the Native Americans, all of them fired, screaming, shouting. It wouldn’t help them.</p><p></p><p>He was power incarnate, unleashed at last, not in a whimpering pedophile’s body but a strong, healthy one that could withstand some abuse. </p><p></p><p>He was no longer Blade. He was no longer Kokoham, or Apache, or Navajo. </p><p></p><p>He was Y’golonac, and he would stride forth from the loneliness of the aeons to walk once more among men.</p><p></p><p>He tore the shaman in half just as the beeping started. It was in his head. The transformation was almost complete. He wouldn’t need the head soon anyway…</p><p></p><p>There was the mournful howl of a coyote.</p><p></p><p>And then Y’golonac/Blade remembered fear.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 4224397, member: 3285"] [b]Darkest Calling: Part 4b – The Well[/b] Blade cleared the lip of the well. The guards were talking amongst themselves, fiddling with the cistrons, trying to figure out how they worked. They were all run by biometrics, fingerprint recognition. The cistrons wouldn’t work for them, but the guards didn’t know that. Blade came up behind one guard and grabbed him in a choke hold. With a roar, he flung the man into the well. The guard, cistron and all, went hurdling into the pit. The other guard drew his pistol. Blade chopped it out of his hand with an open palm jab. The guard swung at him, but Blade caught the punch easily in his palm. He squeezed, and the guard screamed as his fist dripped blood. Hurling him like a rag doll, Blade tossed the second guard into the pit. Then Guppy started shouting about the guards having to check in. A walkie-talkie sailed over the edge of the well. Blade caught it just as the voice on the other end rose in alarm. “Everything’s fine,” he said in the O’odham dialect. It was difficult – he had always considered himself Apache. His father was Apache, his mother Navajo. The Kokoham lineage was a myth that Palmer used to tell him when he was a child. It made Blade feel better about himself when his father beat him in one of his drunken rages. But now Blade had a chance to be a hero. He shouted down for his teammates to find something to help them climb up. If they tied the clothes of the guards together… Up top, nearby cacti suddenly lurched forward, grabbing Blade’s arms as if they were refugees from some Wizard of Oz set. Out of the darkness strode John Takoda and his men. They were all there: Knightly, the renegade police officers, the entire tribe had turned out to see the last sacrifice. They watched in complete silence. “Your O’odham needs some work,” said Takoda quietly. “Why are you fighting your destiny?” “Fighting?” Blade snarled. “Give me my hatchets and I’ll show you fighting.” “You do not understand.” They tied him up again, his legs too this time. Then they tossed Blade into the back of a jeep. “Think of the dark spirits you have defeated.” [I]“He’s trying to trick you,”[/I] whispered the voice. [I]“Don’t listen to him.”[/I] “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” snarled Blade. “I think you do. First you defeated the Traveler. Then Thin Jack. Then the Skinwalker. I dispelled the Festering Shambler. There is but one more spirit and one more sacrifice to be made. Will you not go honorably?” The jeep bounced along as they drove out to the spot of the sacrifice. Blade growled. “This is not about honor.” He strained at his bonds. “This is about survival. There is no fifth creature! You’re just killing innocent people for no reason!” [I]“Kill them,”[/I] whispered the voice. [I]“Or they will kill us.”[/I] The jeep squealed to a stop. Takoda’s men lifted Blade out and strapped him down to the ground. [I]“You will be my high priest.”[/I] “I disagree,” said Takoda. “And deep in your heart, you know the truth. Coyote knows it. Your ancestors know it. Palmer knew it. These sacrifices are why you succeeded. They had to happen, or you would not have defeated those spirits.” [I]“You will call down the shapes of night to worship me at the times of year.”[/I] “There’s no fifth spirit!” shouted Blade, flailing at his bonds. “This is a bunch of supernatural garbage!” [I]“You will prostrate yourself before me and in return you will survive when the earth is cleared off for the Great Old Ones.”[/I] Takoda began carving symbols into his flesh. Strangely, it didn’t hurt at all. [I] “You will go beyond the rim to what stirs out of the light…”[/I] “Are you so blinded that you do not see?” He reached into a small pot of gray paint and placed five dots on Blade’s forehead. “There’s nothing to see!” shouted something that was not Blade’s voice. It came from one of his palms. Takoda shined his flashlight on Blade’s open palm. A fanged maw had erupted there like a wart, teeth and a long tongue trailing bloody saliva as it shrieked. “YOU are the final spirit,” said Takoda sadly. “And the final sacrifice. You are both man’s destruction and salvation.” He began chanting over Blade’s body. Blade’s body shuddered. With a roar, he easily snapped the bonds. The shaman looked down in surprise as an open palm gripped his face, tearing off his nose. He was tossed aside effortlessly. Bullets thudded into his flesh. The police, the Native Americans, all of them fired, screaming, shouting. It wouldn’t help them. He was power incarnate, unleashed at last, not in a whimpering pedophile’s body but a strong, healthy one that could withstand some abuse. He was no longer Blade. He was no longer Kokoham, or Apache, or Navajo. He was Y’golonac, and he would stride forth from the loneliness of the aeons to walk once more among men. He tore the shaman in half just as the beeping started. It was in his head. The transformation was almost complete. He wouldn’t need the head soon anyway… There was the mournful howl of a coyote. And then Y’golonac/Blade remembered fear. [/QUOTE]
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Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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