This is another old copy of the first draft of the story I was working on. I had decided to start from scratch and begin rewriting it and this was born. This is cira 4/6/2006 and like the previous Draft the project changed. I’m also posting it here for potential reference and prosperity.
Enter Gristle
The four heroes walk down the main street of a small town, the sign outside read “Gristle, Pop. 306″. The buildings are mostly made of tent, tarp, or leather; with the occasional plywood building adorned with its shimmering tin roof top. The overall feeling of Gristle is that of despair and poverty. Garbage lines the streets and people have cleaned out patches seemingly at random to sit down in, still surrounded by filth. A few tent flaps are pulled back showing merchants hawking rotten food supplies or gaudy knickknacks. In the far distance at the end of the main, and only, road in town is a large warehouse sized building built of adobe brick with a flat top roof made up to look like the battlements of some odd wasteland castle.
In the street children are playing a rough football like game, except instead of a ball they are playing with a bundled pair of trousers. The child with the ball is a small boy, shirtless and wearing some ripped shorts and no shoes. He has short cut hair and a gleeful smile. The boy close behind him is a rotund child with a crude bowl cut hairstyle, a shirt with the sleeves cut off and blue jeans missing the knees. The big boy slams into a smaller boy, throwing him shoulder first into a near by plywood building. There is a sickening crack as the small boy’s arm dislocates itself from his torso, and the four heroes stop and look over in the direction of the accident. Edison: “Should we not render assistance in the name of Deity?” Wall: “Scars build character.” Edison: “Yes, but broken limbs build cripples.” Then their conversation is cut short as a man approaches the boy. He is wearing tattered gray robes and has long hair that spills into his lowered hood. He also has a long beard the reaches down to his chest. The man lays a hand on the child’s disjointed shoulder and he closes his eyes. A white light bleeds from his hands and into the exposed arm of the small boy, and the boy’s shoulder magically relocates itself properly into his shoulder. Morganna: “Magic…”
Then there are two shimmers over the old man’s shoulders and two men dressed in full riot-control gear appear next to him brandishing small black metal batons the glimmer blue with a crackle of electricity. The first DMCD Officer’s name badge reads “P. Bale” and the second’s badge reads “E. Flynn”. Bale raises his stick over his head. Bale: “You’ve been warned Gruder!” Then Bale brings the club down on the back of the old mans head. The small boy stands up to run and Flynn grabs the boy by the arm and smiles viciously underneath the visor the obscures his eyes. Bale’s blow knocks the man down into the dirt road and a small crowd begins to gather around, our four heroes get pushed by and stand somewhere in the middle of the crowd watching the events unfold.
Bale continues to beat Gruder until the man lays a mangled mess on the road. Bale then nods to Flynn who sneers at the child. Flynn: “What’s been done needs undoing now…” Then he cracks the small boy in the shoulder with his club. The boy’s arm rips backwards and blood sprays out of a wound with a protruding collar bone. Bale turns to the crowd and gestures for them to disband. Bale: “Show’s over folks. The F.A.M. C.C. will be along shortly to take care of this mess.” Then with that Bale and Flynn grab the belt buckle of their suits and shimmer into nothingness.
The crowd begins to disband and the four heroes stay watching as a motherly figure emerges from a tent and carries the child away. Morganna has her face buried in Wall’s chest and Edison is looking at the ground in disgust. Julius: “That is just not right.” Wall: “It upset Morgue.” Edison: “I think we have found the reason Deity has put this town in our path my friends.” Then Morganna looks up at Wall, tears running down her face with her mascara following in their flow. Morganna: “We need to kill them Wall. All the bad people.” Wall nods. Wall: “Then every one of them will die by our hands Morgue.”
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Inn & Information
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Down the Drain
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Assault on the FaM
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Bringing the Fight Home
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