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MPD-The Beginning

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Flashes of light, followed by what sounded like a typewriter, broke through the dark forest. Trees exploded and splintered as bullets tore through them. The bullets and flashes chased after a lone figure weaving and running through the forest. The figure’s hair was matted to his head with sweat, and his breathing was ragged. His blue eyes strained in the darkness to find places to run or hide. His muscles screamed at him to stop and recover, but the pain in his side, and his brain told him to run for his life. His left hand, which was holding his right side, was drenched red with blood, along with most of his shirt. He stumbled and crashed to the ground. As he tried to get up, his muscles gave out, and blood rushed to his head. He crashed back to the ground, gasping for air. His heart pounded in his chest, and his eyes darted around looking for something. Then, he saw the flash again, followed by the typewriter sound. Hot lead ripped through his upper body, pain ripping through the rest of his body. Blood pooled in the corners of his mouth, and ran down his cheeks.
“Sorry, but this time, I win, brother.”
His eyes focused on the direction the voice came from. A figure emerged from behind a tree. The figure’s features were the same as the man’s, but its eyes were blood red. In its right hand was the source of the flashes and sound, a Heckler and Koch MP5 submachine gun. The figure raised it so that the barrel pointed straight at the man’s head. A sinister smile played across the figure’s face while its finger pulled the trigger.
“Goodbye, brother.”

“NO!!!”
The man bolted out of bed in a cold sweat. Heavy breathing filled the dark room. The blue eyes slowly surveyed the room. It was a dream; it was only a dream. But it seemed so real, he thought to himself. He opened to curtains, and looked out the window into the night. The pale moon illuminated the serene night, obscured only by the few clouds the moved through the sky. A dense forest seemed to separate him from the bright lights off in the distance. The man moved from the window and walked down a set of stairs to his living room. Everything was so quiet and calm that it was almost disturbing to the man. The noise of a coffee maker broke the silence, and the steady stream of the hot liquid hitting the cup followed it. The heat from the coffee warmed the man’s body as he drank it. His blue eyes seemed glazed over, due more to being awake than anything else. The man sat down; his mind racing. This is the seventh time I’ve awakened from that same dream and been scared to go back to sleep. The man tried his hardest to think of why it was the same every time, and why the figure called him “brother” when he had none. As he pondered those thoughts, the sun rose.

A chime brought the man to his senses. He looked up as he saw yet another person enter the store. My god, how many people come into a store like this one? The store in question was an old, run-down comic shop. It had barely managed to stay afloat since it opened, and that was saying a lot. It was a crappy job, but it paid okay, and he had little to do during the day. The man looked around the room watching the people who were in the comic shop. There were the typical nerds who were ogling the scantily claded girls in most of the comics while they wished to find a girl exactly like her to date. Fat chance that would ever happen, he thought. The man shrugged and began to close his eyes, when she appeared-- the woman of his dreams, as his friends joked. Her shoulder length black hair was stylish as always, with streaks of dyed, bright colors. Her naturally tanned skin and her curvy body would make any guy drop dead, but that wasn’t what made her perfect in the man’s eyes. It was her knowledge of just about every geeky thing this side of the galaxy: Star Wars and Star Trek included, and it was her big jade eyes. They always seemed to pierce right through the soul of a person. That’s why she was perfect.
She walked through the backroom door and smiled at the man. He smiled back and waved, his head spinning from her smile. She’s amazing, he thought. She moved towards the man, and leaned against the counter the man was behind.
“Look at them. I mean, it’s pathetic, right? They care only for those fictional girls who are created only to act and dress slutty just so they buy the comic. But hey, at least they’re too scared to talk to me!” She burst out laughing. Which caused the nerds, who had self-esteem issues, to shrink behind their more brave friends. The man smiled and shook his head.
“Sakura, I’m going to laugh hysterically when you meet the one person you can’t talk to.”
“Vincent, you know that will never happen, so you might as well laugh with me now.”
Vincent chuckled and rolled his eyes. Sure, that will be the same day I go insane. He laughed at himself, but then he heard it. The same typewriter sound he heard for the past seven nights.

The glass door exploded into shards as the bullets tore through the door. Following the bullets were two figures in all black. The nerds in the store ran for the backroom door, hoping to escape, but a third figure appeared through it; causing most of the nerds to piss their pants. All of them wore black ski masks, but each carried a different weapon. The one at the back door held what seemed like a sawed off shotgun, and one at the glass door had a submachine gun, and while the other held a steel pipe. The one with the pipe pulled some bags out of a backpack, and ordered the nerds to start filling them up with comics. He then turned toward Vincent and Sakura.
“Open the cash register now!” he yelled, and to emphasize it, he smashed the pipe down on the counter. Vincent opened the cash register, and the man grabbed the money from it. His eyes were focused on Sakura the whole time though. He licked his lips, and a smile spread across his face. He grabbed a hold of her and drew her close.
“Hey babe, you’re coming with us. Understand?”
Tears began to slide down Sakura’s eyes, and her lips trembled. Vincent’s fist clenched, and his eyes watered in anger. I can’t let them take her. I can’t. I can’t let that happen. As the man turned to look at his friends with a look that said they were going to have fun tonight, Vincent lunged across the counter at him. Vincent tackled him, and the man crashed to the floor, letting go of Sakura in the process. Vincent drew back his fist, and punched the man in the face. The man smiled, and looked back at him.
“You punch like a frickin’ girl. I’ll show you a real punch.”
The man swung the pipe down, and pain exploded through Vincent’s head and body. His muscles felt weak, and dropped to the floor. He could feel something cold on the top of his head, and knew it was probably blood. His vision shifted in an out, and he could see the men leaving the store, stolen goods and Sakura in tow. He tried to move, but his body was heavy. No. Don’t take her. Don’t. Don’t, don’t, don’t…As his vision grew dark, Vincent heard the same voice, the one who called him brother, race through his mind. You’re pathetic brother. I’ll show you just how weak you are. And with that, Vincent passed out.
Violent images raced through Vincent’s unconscious mind. He could feel the snapping of human bone, the recoil of a fired gun, the smell and sight of blood, and the unrelenting lust for blood and death. His mind shook with these feelings, and he felt like he could vomit. But it’s just a nightmare, that’s all.
The blue eyes slowly came from underneath Vincent eyelids. His body was heavy, and his mind spun from the blow to the head. What happened? Oh yeah, Sakura! They took Sakura! Vincent pushed his body off of the wet cement street. Wait, when did I go outside? Vincent’s vision cleared, and he realized he was in an alleyway.
The morning light slowly covered the alley, and Vincent was overwhelmed by the smell of death and decay. His hands were sticky, and some parts of his clothes were wet. Did it rain while I was out, and where am I? As Vincent began to look around, bile began raised into his throat. Oh God, oh God, OH GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thick red blood covered the street like a river.
A sawed off shotgun, and machine gun lay next to him, along with three bodies. The bodies were dressed in black clothes, dyed red with blood. The face of one had been blown completely off, probably due to the shotgun, while the other was riddled with holes-- the machine gun more than likely. The final one lay face up, his face beaten to a pulp. The facial features were deformed and crushed in. Bones poked through where the skin had given way. Next to the body laid a steel pipe, blood covering the metallic surface. Vincent stumbled away from the bodies, eyes locked on them, and screamed. He looked at his hands and body-- covered in blood. However, it wasn’t his own.
Vincent turned and ran away as fast as he could, his eyes wide with fear. Did I do that? Did I kill those people? A single voice crossed his mind. No brother, I killed them for you. And with that the voice laughed.
The white smile of a goddess played across the naturally tanned skin. Jade eyes looked through the scope of the rifle trained on the blood soaked alley. The eyes watched as the man woke up and watched him discovered the dead bodies. They watched him turn and run. An electronically distorted voice came from the headset beneath the stylish black hair.
“So how’d it go? How’s the subject coming along?”
A voice comparable to a goddess replied. “Good, I think he’s finally starting to awake. Just a little more stress, and his red-eyed brother will come out completely.”
“That’s good. And when he does, blood will rain from the skies. So, until them continue to monitor him.”
“Yes boss.”
The voice faded, and the woman slung the rifle, and walked away from the ledge, tears running down her face. “I’m sorry Vincent.”





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