The P.I. Casefiles, Volume IV

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Re: The P.I. Casefiles, Volume IV

Postby xkazzoo » Sat Apr 21, 2012 8:31 am

Humming...that's the last thing I remember doing before the crash. I was humming to myself.

And then a horn sounded...and lights and the deathly screech of metal tearing itself apart...

And suddenly nothing...




Beep Beep Beep BeepBeepBeepBeep...

"He's awake, go alert the doctor. he'll want to say hello...."

White light, brighter than anything I can recall, filters through my eyelid. Prompting it to flutter open. A myriad of beeps, hums and soft whistles accompanies my return to the world of the conscious.

And I am afraid.

This looks an awful lot like a hospital emergency room, scents of disinfectants and anesthetic. But the distinct feeling of metal encircling my wrists alludes to the idea that this is not a hospital. The harsh light I had noticed before is dimming as my eye adjusts. This room is smaller than I had imagined, and even though it at first appeared bright and luminescent it is grows dingy and unkempt upon further inspection. I take a deep, shallow breath of air. Then I turn my head.

A gangly kid no more than seventeen dressed in scrubs is scribbling on a medical chart. His furrowed brow and subtle muttering tell me that he isn't entirely focused on me. I take this opportunity to test my restraints. They are well done, no chances taken with these fellows. Even have a belt around my waist. I slowly turn to look around to my other side. A curtain is all I perceive, but a silhouette is barely visible through the partition. I can hear a voice, muffled and hardly audible.

Sharp click in the peripheral. A door is opening behind me. Can't stretch my head to see...


Footsteps circle around me behind the curtain. The muffled voice gets louder, more violent. Somebody tears duct tape from skin.
"You son of a bitch! I will tear out your spine and beat you to death witmmmfmmmfffhmmmmfff!!!!" Sadly, i recognize the voice before it is restrained.

"Bella, is that you?" I yell out, just to get some damn attention. I'm getting a little sick of being ignored. I don't understand what she says in reply, but it was loud, and afraid. The footsteps come closer and I can make out another person silhouetted by the harsh lighting.

"Ah, it appears our last patient has awakened at last," A slender, sickly hand slithers through a gap in the curtain and pulls back the shroud only enough for an incredibly thin man to slide through the opening. His fluid motions and genuine enthusiasm give me the creeps. His aging face is adorned with a wide smile. He opens his arms wide, his white lab coat giving him an angelic appearance, "Mister Lombardo, what a curious subject you have become!", he shifts to the end of my bed, "I so look forward to the time we will be sharing together! There is so much to be done, so much to learn from that interesting little head of yours, heehee," he leans closer, uncomfortably so. His eyes betray a child's giddiness. I feel my spine tingle. This is one cracked s.o.b.

"Wh-who are you?" my larynx is suddenly dry. I realize I probably haven't had much in the way of sustenance lately.

His smile creeps around his thin lips," My name is Josef. But if you wish to keep this professional, Mister Lombardo, then you may address me as Doctor Mengele," he raises his arms again as if invoking some ancient spirit.

My voice is weak and dry, "Let her go...and tell me where Billy is," That's all I can manage before I go into a fit of coughing. I could really use a drink.

Dr. Lab Coat looks down at me as if I were a puppy that had just yelped at its master," I see you still have some fight in you! That is most intriguing considering the amount of medication you've received. Yes, most intriguing," He turns his back to me and clasps his hands together, "It reminds me of an old friend of mine...There is something to be said about mind over matter I believe, Mr. Lombardo. The man who once owned this facility used to believe strongly in that ideal. It aided him in the creation of so many wonderful inventions," He begins pacing, "It drove his research to extremes that no common man could hope to comprehend...And one day he contacted me. Ohoho, he had no idea who I truly was, but he was aware of some of my more recent research, and was committed to helping me complete it," He turns back to face me, "You see, I want to know, more than anything, what makes men tick. What drives them. It is something like the soul, if you will. But much more tangible than that abstract idea. My research led me to believe that the "soul", the human spirit, lies within the electrical system of the human brain. Within the current, mind you. An idea that most would consider madness! But my compatriot did not think so. You see the professor believed me. Nikoli knew I was onto something, and he provided the means to pursue my 'madness'," he stops and gestures to the wall, adorned with a large motif of a lightning bolt," But what he did not know was that I was willing to do what was necessary, what had to be done. Otherwise what was the point of it all? What was the point Nikoli?!," He shakes a fist at the motif,"So I ended some lives, lives that were spent, not wasted in pursuit of goals greater than themselves!...And I was discovered. My comrade, my friend. He defied me, told me that I had gone insane!...his was a voice that I found it necessary to silence..." his head droops and he shuffles back behind the curtain. The muffled screams rise again as he moves toward the bed frame.

Even if i could understand what this raving lunatic was going on about, I really don't care. I just want out of here, my head hurts, I can feel my mind loosing it's grip. And Bella, I don't know how we happened to be here. Really I don't know how I happened to be here. But I have to get us out, wherever we are. find Billy, have him answer for this...Something very bad is going on here.

And if nothing before had clued me into this, there is something new in the darkness of my eye.

A bright white light is emanating from the other room, right where the doctor would be standing. But at the center of this seemingly benevolent spectre is a black hole so deep and foreboding that I have to keep my other eye open just to keep from staring too long at it.

I am afraid for us both.

May the power of mustache protect you.
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Re: The P.I. Casefiles, Volume IV

Postby Sparklelord » Thu Jun 28, 2012 4:45 pm

It took me around 2 hours to walk into the inner part of town. It was night, but you wouldn't be able to tell what with all the smog.

"Hey, mister, you got the time?" The weedy-looking man leaning up against the wall asked.

I looked at the timepiece I had brought along. "It's half past." It was the moment that I felt the gun, like a brand of fire on the nape of my neck. I can't believe it. Here I am, a supposed expert on these creatures, predators the lot of them, and I fall for the oldest trick in the book. You sure you've got the right man for the job, Kel?

"Are you deaf? Gimme your wallet and watch!" Two in front, one behind. It was more reflex and muscle memory than anything else. My cane had six knock-out darts loaded. I tranq'd the two in front and then swung the cane up. It hit my would be killer's head with a deep crack, like a church bell giving up the ghost. I was hungry. I'd get something to eat then head to the office, my office, and make some calls. Time to get this ball rolling.

I ducked into a cafe restaurant, sat down. The tired looking waitress droned, "What'll it be hon?"

"Pecan pie ala mode and a cup of black coffee."

A couple hours later

"Extra, Extra! Pigmy Blowgunner at Large! Read all about it! The Blowgun Bandit Puzzles Police!"
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Re: The P.I. Casefiles, Volume IV

Postby xkazzoo » Fri Aug 01, 2014 8:25 pm

Nobody is fearful of the darkness, not the thing itself. It's nothing, you can't fear nothing.
It's the person's own imagination that brings about the nervous shudder, the darting glances from one corner of view to the next. The mind is a beautiful, colorful place. Full of terror...

"...Full of terror! I should say the patient should be dead from this much strain on the nervous system. Amazing simply amazing," the voice clears my head. I had slipped out, probably the drugs. Maybe I just wanted to.

No, I can't go back to that. Stay here, stick to what's going on...What the hell is going on?

Same place, same shackles, same madman behind the curtain. Face feels rougher than before, must've been out six hours or s-


The shriek comes from the curtain. That of a mad beast released from the caverns of Hell itself.

"Bella! Are you okay!? Talk to me sweetheart!" No answer but ragged breathing and muttered curses. The fear seeps back into me. She might not be alive by the end of, not if I'm alive. I have to get up, have to-
The door to the left opens, the dank air escapes the room, replaced with a frigid reminder that I am hardly clothed. Wakes me up at the least. The gangly assistant strides in, nervous about something.
"That brute would like to speak with you sir," he speaks cautiously.
"I am busy," comes the venomous reply. I hear a circulating blade start up. Like the scream of a dying pig.
"W-well, he was rather insistent, sir; Um, violently so, I should add..." I crane my neck to spy a purple welt on the kid's cheek.
"Ack! Should have increased his dosage days ago! Fine!," the squealing pig winds down, "Restrain the patient, then join us in my office. Do tighten to my specifications, Spencer, I will not be replacing any limbs today," the Angel strides off cackling. The door slams and locks.

'Spencer' gulps audibly. The raspy breathing slows, replaced by a quiet growl. I hear a ratchet tightening bolts, shaking and slipping in the assistant's terrified hands. Terrified of what? Bella must be sedated at least as much as myself. What's going on in this madhou-


The ratchet hits the floor and the kid gives a yelp. Everything after that happens in about a second. Metal rends and pops, wood cracks. Bone...good god. The yelp of the assistant only begins to transform into a sickening howl before it is muffled and silenced. The body hurls through the curtain and slams into the facing wall hard enough to smear a crimson, gritty splotch upon it. There's a pile of Spencer on the floor protruding with bone and leaking into an expanding pool of gross as hell. I vomit a little inside.

"No..." weezing, like a person who'd just ran a marathon. But she's alive. More creaking metal, a grunt of exertion. The curtain is torn to the floor. And there she is, a little too alive.

"Uh-wha-nuh...hey," she doesn't seem too amused. Of course she is just regrowing her arm and half her face. What was there before was, was-

"Werewolf Stalin,"

"Wah, I , Uhhhh,"

"Shut up, don't stare at me," my restraints snap off with a flick on her...claws?," We need to save Billy," Next thing I know I'm headed towards the door in a fireman carry.

"I can walk, Bella!"

"No, you can stumble," She shoulders my weight like I was a paper bag full of mothballs," Now shut up and take a gym class or something I swear you weigh less than this pile of dead guy here," she growls as she leans down to pilfer an intricate bronze key form the aforementioned pile.


The hallway is narrow and spartan aside from a myriad of signs telling me in some other language that I should not be here. I groan a little as my kidneys take a little extra bruising. Bella is not too concerned about my comfort.
"Can I at leas-," a warm hand covers my mouth.
"Ssshhh!" She tilts her head and, well, she sniffs the air. You know I"m about fed up with all the weird 'round here. The floor swings around as she does an about-face.

Again, roughly, I'm on the ground and my legs try to give out. The wall is there for me.
"Good wall. So forgiving. You're my only friend today," I prop myself up enough to get my feet below me.

"I said shh," Her eyes are narrow slits in the dimly lit hall. She know's something I don't. Well, that's kind of a given at this point, but anyway. A nod signals me to skedaddle up a nearby stairway.

We huddle there a minute, two guards saunter by. No uniforms, but packing heat, and I mean heat. Elephant guns and handcannons. Better steer clear of the night shift 'round here. A heavy hand grips my shoulder a little too tight and I wince.
She motions to follow the stairs up. Good call.. Bad guys are always up. I take a moment to reflect on that irony before I'm plunged into a grim realzation.

Billy is the bad guy.
No, a bad guy. You heard the Doc, he's on meds. Messing with him.
Toying with him.
She looks back to make sure I can keep up. Bella's eyes aren't her own, neither is that thing that killed Spence. Madness is running amuck in this gulag of wierdness, madness that pulls at my threads, urging me to fall back into that Neverland.

It's the voices that resuscitate me.
Familiar ones.
Those of an old friend and a new tormentor.

The top of the stairs is before me. The madness stops now.

May the power of mustache protect you.
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