"Who... am I?" a lone figure dragged himself on a highway, no vehicles in site, in some distance the lights of a small town seemed to call him. "Urgh." He had been running, yes, that was it. From what? Was he running from someone or to someone? To something? From something? Also, his head... It hurt. Bad. His body felt like he had been having a bad hangover and some quack doctor had put some unapproved medicine in his system. Was he getting rid of this drug if it existed or was it getting rid of what was left of him? His sanity? Was he already insane and now he was just wandering through the world of his memories? The ghosts of these memories killed by him, were they killed that way while they were alive? Blood seemed to rise in a stench from his clothes. Oddly, he felt some pleasure seeing it but fealt that was only because something had been done to him. By someone. Concentrating on things such as the blood made the headaches go away. If that would just stay away... He had to see himself. Get some bearings, found out who he was. He was a person, right? "Weapon." The thought came unspoken and unbidden from some recesses of his mind he felt he had closed a door on. Should he have closed it tighter? Somehow, he could visualize that door. It seemed red. Looking harder, he saw it was blood red. The man would have to stop thing of himself as "he." "He" needed a name. "Bane." That would be his name for now. Nothing like bitter irony to get the morning going. It wasn't morning though, was it? It was night. More irony, perhaps. Was he entitled a sense of irony and to be a actor in its play? Maybe. He felt he had been it's director at times. Was he now? Bane leaned against a tree. Rain had passed by before, he knew that because before he could remember things such as running he could remember darkness. Darkness and fluid on his skin. Was it blood? More then likely more then blood. What had they done to him? Did he deserve this punishment? Was it a punishment, or some sick perverse reward? If the people/things thought this was a reward, he would give them a reward. Give them the biggest one of their lives, probably the last one, also. First he must get answers, though. Then there would be "rewards." Plenty of them. They would not be quick, ether. Bane himself would make sure they gave a long acceptance speech to any of their colleges. Even friends and family would do! Then he might give them a reward if they had a hand in it. Had a hand in causing his pain. Pain. Would it ever stop? Some voice inside him clanged that killing was wrong, and he did not silent it. He felt he should be a hero. That he was a hero. If only... it would stop. A bar from that town he had seen was now approaching. How long had he been walking without paying attention? Didn't matter. Looking in a mirror when he entered the bar, he stopped and observed himself. White skin, black hair. Seemed to be wearing a torn black leather jacket. Bane stopped and continued on in the bar, taking his seat next to a bald man, one that stank of beer and gave off his own scent of blood. Not all of it his own. "Hey, man, you got some time? I'll get you hooked up, y'know. You'll be riding the high roads. Getting high with us. It's the life, man. If you don't agree, you know, you can sign the rejection papers for my payers in your blood. Heh," the shaved man said this with a grin towards the end and a flicker of a knife under the bar table caught Bane's eyes. The man was large. Probably thought he could sit on him while he cut Bane open and had his fun for the night. Didn't wasn’t women, just wanted more cash and addicts on his rigs. He probably did order the occasional woman, though. This man had ruined countless lives, what would be a greater last live to sign the epitaph with but his own? 'Kill.' a silent vocie urged. "No," he spoke back firmly in his mind. Enough blood was already on him. Bane would break this man and let him make a better man out of the pieces. He was not a killer. He didn't even know what he was, yet, but he wanted to be nothing like this man. This man could live a decent life if he tried, Bane would give him the chance. "No," this time Bane spoke the word outside of the room and into the bar. It seemed to follow with a echoing of silence that set the stage for tonight’s next act of drama in the bar. "Yes." this was no question, it was a command that was enforced by a glint of a knife under the table. The knife caught the light of a neon light on the wall, and combined with the other man's face it showed what he really was: a greedy wash out. The man was in no position to make those as of now and Bane wouldn't follow orders from whatever town junkie drug maker crawled into a bar. Somehow, the music had stayed on and seemed to feel the silent gap that separated them. Soon, it would be disturbed again by a different kind of noise. Quickly before any reaction could be made and with speed and power Bane did not know he possessed, he grabbed the man by the arm and slung him past the bar's counter, narrowly missing a bartender. Possibly owner, he did not look like this thing was a surprise and in fact happened very often. Should he kill them? Start with the arrogant bartender, with his numbness and see how numb he was to reality. "They deserve it. Kill. Kill. Kill and live through their deaths," the voice in his head spoke so. Was it in his head or was it the voice of reality... perhaps insanity? Back from Bane's thought's, he noticed a display that had been set had crashed, and a bottle of cheap beer had slided off it. It crashed, sending glass everywhere onto the other man's face and body. The cheap beer followed afterwards. "Now he is as ugly on the outside as he is on the inside," Bane thought this smugly with some comfort and noticed his headache was gone. Somewhere in what temporarily seemed to be a different place-perhaps a different time?- Bane heard voices whispering. Bane could barely make out of the silent echoes some, "Where now?"'s and such but one received his special attention. "That guy took down Big Bill!" "Big Bill" let out a groan. Possibly letting out some of the "steam" he planned to use to sit on Bane with. He might would have felt pity if it was a weaker man or one that had done less, but he didn't. Instead, he felt pride and rage he was not aware of before falling before he could examine it fully. The bartender, what happened finally dawning on him-he was old, possibly feeble, a decent excuse-took a key off of a key ring and gave it to Bane. "You have no idea..." Is there anything I could do for you?" the bartender asked. "Looking for information," Bane said confidently. "Always good for lads your age to seek enlightenment, eh? Take the motorcycle out back with this-," the man horridly fished out a key from a key ring from his pants pockets and kept the rest of the object in his hand while giving the key to Bane. This key, where would it lead him? The door of his mind. Once again the question would arise-should he open it? The man finished hurriedly, "Just escort me outside to the parking lot with you, please." the man said this please with a quick look around the bar. "If you want to get the information, this road goes on straight for some length. Go down until you see a sign saying, Koola." Tell the man in the back Phil sent you." The man, Phil, silently pleaded and Bane agreed with a grin. Soon he was on his way. Who was he? This man "Phil" sent him to better know. If he or they didn't, they just might get to feel some of the pain they have all caused Bane. Caused him. Those things and people that hurt him without reason were no better then the commonest junkie. They would be dealt with accordingly. Was there a reason though? The question seemed to join the half-way hushed voices of "Kill." Two hateless eyes observed him. These were motherly eyes, if not wifely. Perhaps a possible connection to Bane? The figure, nothing more then a shadow in the night sky using the stars as eyes, seemed to fade to follow someone.
Short update, setting characters and things up. Somewhere in the distance, far off a man was awakening to find his life in shatters. "All of them... none of them lived?" he kept reviewing the words on the note, at the bottom, screamed out that they had fired him. He, who had put everything on the line for them. Them and their "X." One of them must have escaped, it was coming back to him now. He would have time to review it later, but what about Lucy? Their, at the very bottom was her name. All those years they had planned together... ruined. All for a plan. A plan he had helped make. Now he would stop it. They had fired him, not even given him an honorable farewell. He had enough cash stashed away in Swiss accounts. He would use every cent of it to bring that thing down. Project X-now that one was loose, was it the end? No, to many had died, today he might as well be dead. He had once read that if you tried hard enough to kill someone, you can always win. Always. If you can't kill them, you can wear them down. That beast they had contained, felt pity for, it would now be put down like a beast. He would have to run before anyone came. Would they of taken care of him like X would of? The simple answer was: yes. To them, he was just another name, another number. Just another one. Well, he'd prove them wrong. With a new burst of strength, he managed to pry open his window and leap out of it. The sign in the front of the hospital said he was about a mile from the base. That made sense. What better place to hide one who held secrets that needed to die in a place that breaded with death daily? He knew what he would have to do. His name was Theo, and he knew what he had to do. He could do it, he would do it. For everyone... for Lucy. He would give "X" a special gift to remember him by. Fragments of it were still coming back to him, but it was like looking at pictures through a fun house mirror. It hurt to block them, but the pain told him he was alive. Being alive was good. - A few moments later, a orderly sent one message: "All is going as planned. One X has been set free. All except one of the witnesses have died. Sadly, he escaped before he could be erased. We have told local authorities we are looking for a man suspected of murder matching his description. All is under way." Grinning, the orderly prepared for his break. This was a part time job, but he loved the job as surgeon. Especially when there were little "accidents"... All were coverd up, of course. How he wished he could of seen the look on their faces when he broke free! The magnificent carnage, the passion, sadly he had been busy. Now though, now he would get to see that fool Theo and X in action, and he had a little suprise for them at the end of their merry little havoc trail. Yes, a suprise indeed. X was the embodiment of a once in a universe mistake, combined with things that didn't naturally exist. No origin but pain, what was not to love? He would set the things up, and he would make sure all the main guest were there. - Fate sighed, and tried once again to connect with the spirits. He came from a long line of people who communicated with spirits, and he wanted to have the greatest talent. No spirit wanted to talk to him, though. He had tried offerings, even forced summonings. When he did this though, they never willfully talked to him and he had to be exact. It wasn't any fun, and didn't enrich his powers much. Ah, well. The elders had said he wast to hasty. Now he fealt he was of age, though. Was his mind and spirit of purity, though? He had eaten only nature's raw delights and yet still he fealt dirty. He needed a light to shine on him, to cleanse him of some shadow that had fallen upon him. Only then would he be pure. Was it worth being pure in a world like this, though? The stars had forsaken him, so why shouldn't he forsake the stars?
