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Fanfiction ► Cirque du Mort



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Haku

<3
Joined
Mar 27, 2007
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8,181
That was another great edition, the wait wasn't nothing too extreme though.
 

Aqua

New member
Joined
May 10, 2007
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278
I look forward to reading it. Your battle scenes are amazing! Again, great chapter!
 

Nojerom

Resilience
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lovely chapter, Davy.
nice action, fit perfectly.
and your action scenes, they're fine.
great, actually and more detailed than others i've seen. =D

oh it tickles me to think of how the next battle will go ^^
 

Davy Jones

I Believe In Harvey Dent
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1 Police Plaza, Major Case Squad Room
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New chapter tomorrow. In the mean time, I would like for you good readers to review a short story I wrote entitle Project: Zarathustra.

Project: Zarathustra
~* A Short Story *~
+=+ By Davy Jones +=+

Detective Gary Hoyt slammed the grey steel door of the interrogation room in the New York City police precinct, then looked around the sterile white room. Seated at a cheap metal table in a cheap metal chair in the middle of the room was a faintly-twitching middle-aged man. The man’s grey eyes darted around the room as if searching, and he brushed an aged hand through his salt and pepper hair. When the door slammed, the seated man jumped as if he had been shot.

Gary Hoyt sat down at the table, a manila file folder in his hands. The blonde-haired, green-eyed detective was fresh on the force, looking for a big case. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the one he was looking for.

“Dr. Liam McLeod,” Hoyt said, reading the tab on the file folder. The middle-aged man visibly calmed at the sound of his name.

Hoyt continued. “I must say, this is quite a story you’ve told here.”

Liam McLeod smiled, but with no emotion. “Every word in that report is true. All of the pictures, documents… everything.”

Hoyt perused the file. “Well, from what I can understand, you’ve released some sort of neurological bacteriophage that is a real killer, to put it bluntly.” The detective paused for a moment, sighed, and began again. “And from what I hear, there is no cure.”

McLeod nodded. “Yes, that about sums up the global crisis.”

Hoyt glowered at McLeod. “How can you be so apathetic about this. No cure, no immunity… everyone and everything on earth will die!”

Dr. McLeod shrugged. “It is a terrible outcome of the project, but it was a possibility from the beginning.

Hoyt slammed his hand down on the table, resulting in a loud clank. “Do you understand? EVERYONE is going to DIE because of YOUR little Project-.” He paused in his tirade to looke back at the file. “Your little Project: Zarathustra.”

Still McLeod seemed unfazed. “Ah, yes. Zarathustra was Friedrich Nietzsche’s fictional orator. Nietzche was a firm believer in übermensch philosophy. Superhuman philosophy.”

Hoyt rolled his eyes. “This guy is delusional,” he thought, then continued the interrogation. “So I take it that this was some sort of super soldier project that is against every international and national law in the world.”

“Cleverly disguised as a pharmaceuticals research study. The whole thing was paid for by government funding.”

Hoyt sighted. “Okay. Now, let’s have the story once more.”

Dr. Liam McLeod nodded and began to speak.

* * *

“They’re all dead. Every last one.”

Dr. McLeod pulled the stethoscope away from the cold, lifeless corpse. He ruffled his grey hair, then let out a sigh as he turned to his colleague.

“The project is over, Kurt.”

Dr. Kurtis Cooper took a quick look at the ceiling, searching for some answer or sign. The young man stared at the body on the morgue table, disappointment prevalent in his rich brown eyes.

“So, what happens next?”

“We walk away,” McLeod replied, “and leave these virus ravaged bodies hidden away in here.”

Kurt turned his gaze to the elder doctor. “Are you sure that this is the way to go, Liam? The neurological viruses could escape the lab. We need to quarantine, then set up a safe perimeter. After that, we can incenerate the lab.”

Liam McLeod slowly shook his head. “No, no. If we do anything conspicuous, then the scientific community and the associated press will swarm on this project, and you know well what could come of that. Project: Zarathustra must remain as it is: unknown.”

Kurt Cooper gazed at the rows of morgue doors, imagining all of the harmful bacteriophages that were festering in the bodies of all of the test subjects of Project: Zarathustra. If only they could take it all back…

“Remember,” McLeod added, “we’ll be the Nazis of the twenty-first century if we go public. So, Kurt, help me get this body into the chamber.”

Kurt complied, almost in a trance. They covered the male body in a white sheet, pushed the metal slab into the chamber, and shut the door. Kurt shivered from more than just the chilly temperatures of the Arctic laboratory.

McLeod walked to the door out of the morgue and hung up his lab coat on a rack. He beckoned for Kurt to do the same, and the younger man slowly walked over and hung his coat up as well. Then the two exited the morgue and strode down a sterile white hallway, through a pair of metal doors, and into a small hangar bay. A helicopter sat in on corner, the pilot leaning up against it smoking a cigarette. Upon seeing the two doctors, he climbed into the cockpit and started up the engine.

Kurt and Harry walked across the runway in total silence; the sound from the rotor blades drowned out all other noise. When they reached the helicopter, the pilot pressed a button on the console, and the roof of the hangar slid apart, revealing a grim, grey Arctic winter sky. McLeod climbed inside and strapped into the co-pilot’s seat. Kurt stood on the frozen floor, staring off into space.

“KURT!” Liam yelled over the rotors. “It’s time to go! Come on!”

Kurt climbed in and strapped into a seat behind the pilots. He motioned to a pair of headsets next to each of their seats. Liam and Kurt placed the headsets on their heads.

“It’s ironic,” Kurt said over the headset.

"What is, Dr. Cooper,” McLeod replied.

"Project: Zarathustra was meant to excel the human race, but in the end it killed hundreds of lives.”

McLeod sighed over the microphone. “Sacrifices must be mad for science. No one could have known one hundred percent that something like this could have happened.” He then took of his head set, twirling his fingers to signal the pilot to take off. The pilot nodded, then lifted the helicopter into the grey Arctic noon.

After four hours of nonstop flight, the helicopter touched down at the edge of John F. Kennedy airport in New York City. After he turned off the chopper, the pilot nudged McLeod, who had fallen asleep during the trip. Cooper, on the other hand, had stayed wide-awake. The pilot opened the doors, and McLeod jumped out into a light afternoon snow. Kurt jumped out as well, and the two scientists began walking to the main airport terminal.

Suddenly, Kurt fell to the ground and spasmed in uncontrollable. McLeod turned and gazed in horror as his colleague writhed in tortured agony. He let out screams and shrieks, but it was no use. The whole episode lasted only a minute, leaving one dead doctor lying face down on the tarmac.

McLeod stared in morbid fascination and shock at Dr. Cooper’s corpse. It wasn’t so much that Kurt had died, but how he had died.

It was the same death as the test subjects of Project: Zarathustra.

The pilot was also shocked. He turned to McLeod.

“W-what happened t-to h-him?” the pilot said, voice wavering.

McLeod shunned the question. The pilot reiterated his point, and then Dr. Liam McLeod answered truthfully.

“Neurological bacteriophages infiltrated his brain, causing uncontrollable seizures and ultimately resulting in complet nervous break down.

The pilot was wide eyed with fear as he asked the next question.

“How?”

McLeod got straight to the point. “It was a project to create men that were stronger, smarter, and more adept at living by stimulating their brains with a newly discovered virus found only in polar climates.”

Without thinking, McLeod sat on the frosted tarmac next to Kurt’s dead body and let the snow fall on him. The pilot, meanwhile, called 911 and told him about the dead scientist. Within five minutes, police cars swarmed the scene and took statements, and the coroner took Kurt to the Medical Examiner’s office.

* * *

When McLeod finished his story, Detective Hoyt let out a deep breath. “So, you came from some sort of Artic lab, correct?”

McLeod nodded.

Hoyt pressed further. “You mentioned that Dr. Cooper wanted to quarantine. Did you have the preventive measures?”

McLeod shook his head. “We didn’t know how contagious the new virus was. We injected the bacteriophages into the bodies of the subjects.”

Hoyt sighed. “You know, everyone one earth will hate you.”

McLeod merely nodded. “Yes, the thought crossed my mind. Unfortunately, there is nothing we can do now.

Hoyt glared at Dr. McLeod. “You’re lucky I can’t beat you up right here.” With that, Detective Gary Hoyt got up, walked to the grey steel door, opened it, strode out, and slammed it with a loud clank. Liam McLeod, who had reverted to his twitching, added one last line.

“Sumus omnes mortuus.”
 

Aqua

New member
Joined
May 10, 2007
Messages
278
The short story was great. You are an excellent writer. I just wish I could of read the short story sooner (I was busy with classes). I also look forward to the next chapter of Cirque du Mort.
 

Davy Jones

I Believe In Harvey Dent
Joined
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Once again, thank you for all of the compliments. And once again also, sorry for the lateness. Once again complications arose, ensued, and were not overcome. Homework, Housework, Scoutwork, Life in general...

But it is now here! And here we go, the epic clash known as...

-*39*-​
Duel of the Fates

Iod sent Sidrix and Laocoon out onto the silvery battleground to carry the severely debilitated body of War off so that he could be taken to the sick ward. Laocoon growled at Iod, raising his fists into an aggressive position, but the aggression was dispatched as Iod pulled a shotgun out of his trenchcoat. He pointed the double-barreled firearm right at Laocoon's head, then pumped pumped the shotgun. A grin formed on the engineer's face. Laocoon lowered his fists, and Iod lowered the gun. As Sidrix walked up, he cuffed Laocoon on the back of the head. Laocoon spun around, intent on beating Sidrix to pieces. But he remembered the shot gun, and reluctantly followed the Nobody to the railing.

The anthropomorphic Void-runner and the nobody of the former dark lord Idris jumped off of the railing and onto the battleground and strode over to the barely breathing body of War. As the duo knelt down to pick up the ravaged body, War let out a demonic gurgle. Laocoon kneed him into silence, and Sidrix just shook his head, figuring that he would be trying to hide a smile if he had a heart. They then picked War's immense figure up, and carried him over towards the railing. As they approached, a holed formed in the wall, revealing one of the sterile white concourses. The two entered the concourse, carrying the massive being in effortlessly on their shoulders. The wall closed up behind them, and they were lost from view.

After he was sure they had left the arena, Iod tapped a small microphone clipped to his lapel. The noise was amplified one hundred fold over the speakers. Satisfied that the device was working, Iod called everyone to attention.

"Now that we have everyone settled, the next battle will be between-." The customary pause came like clockwork.

"The next battle will be between Requiem and Nire!"

)_(==`==)_(==`==)_(==`==)_(

Dirst nearly jumped out of his skin at the announcement. Harmony went pale with fear of what might happen with a clash from Requiem. Only Nire, the one in dire straits, seemed to be unphased. He sat up and walked down the aisle as if he were leaving to go to the concession stand. Harmony jumped up and ran after him. She grabbed his arm, causing him to turn around. Harmony looked up into his tinted glass visor.

"Nire, you've got to be careful."

"I'll try, but I've got to pay him back for all of the pain that he has caused to anyone, especially Riku."

Harmony sighed, then pulled his metal shell close to her in a warm embrace. She said no words. She didn't need to. She let go of Nire, and the bionic Keybearer looked at Dirst, who merely gave him a thumbs up. Nire nodded, then walked down the stairs to the railing. He saw that Requiem was already on the battle ground, so he wasted no time in hopping off of the railing and down onto the arena floor. He landed with a soft clank of his metal feet, then walked over to confront Requiem.

"Giving your friend's last words, I see," Requiem stated.

"I don't intended those to be my last words to my friends."

"No one intends it, but it happens nonetheless."

"Fine. It won't happen."

Requiem shook his head. "You have a debt to pay." He paused as the battlefield began to transform, then continued again. "The debt that all men pay."

Nire glared at the Reflection through his tinted face mask, then gazed around at the battlefield. They were surrounded in a forty foot diameter room with a twenty-foot diameter hole in the middle. The walls were made of some sort of grey metal, and the floor was made of charcoal colored marble-like stones.

Requiem drew his claymore, which had a faint red glimmer to it. Nire summoned his keyblade, Celestial Thorn, in response. Requiem then pressed the pommel stone. Instantaneously, a second blade popped out, and a second guard and hilt unfolded from inside the first. Both blades were the exact same, just interconnected at the hilt, which carried a blood red pommel stone. The assassin twirled the blade a couple of times for flash, then pointed one of the blades at Nire. The Keybearer set his blade on Requiem's.

"Shall we begin?" Nire said sardonically.

Requiem smiled."By your leave, Mr. Nire!" With that, Requiem stabbed forward with the blade. Nire knocked the strike away with little thought and even less effort. The sudden counter would have caught anyone else off guard, but not the trained assassin. Requiem twirled the blade, swinging at Nire with intense force. The Keybearer dodged to the left, away from the hole in the center, then swung at Requiem's bare back. Requiem quickly thrust his blades back and blocked the blow, throwing Nire off balance. The keybearer stumbled, then ran behind Requiem.

"Fira!" Nire yelled.

He thrust his hand out, sending a medium sized ball of flame towards Requiem. The Reflection dodged towards the hole, narrowly missing the fireball. However, he also nearly fell into the hole. Requiem stumbled backward, nearly falling, but he managed to keep his footing and stand up straight. Nire saw this as an obvious opportunity, and he charged forward, Keyblade aimed like a lance at Requiem's exposed side. Requiem saw the attack coming and quickly jumped to the side. He then swung the dual-claymore at Nire. The blade's nicked the Keybearer's carbon steel shell, but it caused no pain.

Nire smiled. "Is that the best you got Mr. "You have a debt to pay"?"

Requiem glared at him, losing his characteristic cool. "I am not even trying."

"By your leave, Mr. Requiem."

Requiem grunted, then resorted to his anger to pull him through the fight. He pointed his hand at Nire and shouted,"Firagun!" In response, and enormous ball of flame flew across the floor, lighting the room a strange orange. Nire was caught a bit off guard, but he managed to duck down in time to dodge the majority of the flame. However, a bit scalded his back shell, transferring heat to his back inside. The sudden temperature rise flashed him back to the day when he was in the car with his parents in Velo-City. He remembered the albino that murdered his parents. And he remembered why he was here, fighting this assassin.

Immediately, Nire jumped up from the floor and threw his keyblade at Requiem. Right as the blade left his hands, Nire shouted,"Thundaga!", releasing a powerful lightning bolt down at Requiem. The bolt hit him square on, shocking him to the spot. Requiem managed to snap out of his temporary paralysis in time to block the keyblade. The blade clanged off of the claymores, and slid down into the hole. Nire soon re-summoned the blade, then ran at Requiem with renewed vigor. However, Requiem had another plan.

He dodged towards the wall and smacked Nire's head with the back of his blade. The keybearer was sent down with a grunt, sliding into the wall. Then, Requiem walked over in front of Nire.

"I'm sorry. You've put up quite a fight for a such a young fighter."

"Looks who's talking," Nire fired back.

"Yes. Now, it is time for you to pay." With that, Requiem plunged his blade into Nire's stomach. The Keybearer let out a strained gasp as red blood stained the flawless white of his carbon steel suit. Nire's breathing began to come in hyperventilated gasps.

Then, Requiem held out his palm for the dying Keybearer to see. Slowly, he drew a circle on his palm, which could actually be seen in a strange red light. Then, once he finished, he plunged his finger through the circle.

)_(==`==)_(==`==)_(==`==)_(

Harmony and Dirst gazed in wonder as the previously flawless sky quickly clouded over and began to pour out rain in a thick deluge. Then, suddenly, flaming boulders fell from the sky on the enclosed room that was the battlefield.

Their hearts slowly filled with dread. They remembered what happened to Riku back on Open Ocean. It seemed like forever ago. But now the memory was revived.

Only this time, the victim was different.

Harmony hugged Dirst and sobbed into his shoulder. Dirst returned the embrace, glaring down at the field as the battlefield reverted to the empty mercurial field, leaving smoldering mound of boulders and one black- haired assassin, playing a melancholy tune that drenched the air in depression.
 

Haku

<3
Joined
Mar 27, 2007
Messages
8,181
Oh that's alright about the update being awhile its better this way than it being rushed, but otherwise I thought this was a another great chapter.
 
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