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Rachegeist issue 9- PROTOTYPE

“There is only one thing that can stop him. We must unlock the Prototype.” Dr. Swift commanded his squabbling comrades, the methodical Ante, and the robotic Officer Lief.

“What is the Prototype?” Officer Lief asked. Dr. Swift began to move his jaw, but said only one word, quietly. “Who…”

“I am thinking we don’t want to know the means, but the end is necessary. Let’s do it, as long as we can save Mr. Venin.” Ante said.

“I won’t say anything besides the fact that neither of you will be happy, but Ross is persuasive. When you DO learn why Prototype is who he is, you will understand why I agreed to participate.” Dr. Swift said, and began to direct his allies into his car. “I trust Ross Venin when he has his head on straight.” The doctor said while backing out of his parking spot, and cruised his BMW down, below the ground level of the hospital/secret experimentation area.

Three floors below the sod, coated now with the nightfall’s icy frost, the jealous three emerged from their automobile, and entered a series of secured doors, only Dr. Swift was able to open.

“Why do I feel like there is some serious favoritism between you and our funder?” Ante said, with envy, commenting on the fact that there was far more that Dr. Swift had access to than the other two, privileges which could only be granted by the owner and patron of Venin Hospital.

Officer Lief, always calmer and subtler, made one last comment before they entered the last door of security, “I am surprised this hospital even became successful. Venin is French for Venom.”

-meanwhile, on the upper floors of the hospital, in much more lightly secured areas-

Ross Venin, shaking throughout, charged Renegade, the self-proclaimed “Agent of Chaos”, and hardened his shoulder muscle nearly to the strength and density of steel with his super-human control of his body’s chemicals. Renegade took the rush with his hands, which collapsed against the force, but left Ross resting against his armored chest. Renegade flung his unstable enemy with great exertion against the hallway wall. Ross quickly braced for the collision with his more mobile arm, and managed to stay on his feet, only to be slammed once again into the wall. Now grounded, Ross Venin was threatened with a horse-like stomp. Ross’ head tilt made life move in slow motion, as he saw a possible death stroke coming down on him. Thoughts ran though his mind quickly, as well as pain, until he activated his endorphin flow, and set it to a maximum to perform his next act. With one, nearly late hand, Ross Venin grabbed the steel-plated foot, and threw Renegade, in his entirety, ten feet down the hallway. They both came to their feet, but Ross Venin took much longer, and hardly had time to brace for a shoulder-charge from his opponent. Inhuman now becoming explorable ground, Ross Venin grabbed the broadsword Renegade had lost control of earlier in their confrontation with his bare foot, and lifted it up to his chest, leaving no time for Renegade to change his direction before skewering himself on it. The sword glanced partly off the armor, and partly stuck into his flesh, but needless to say, he fell to the ground with Ross venin, and began to bleed in extreme.

-underground, the prototype’s cell-

A regular looking, blond, clean-cut man, in medical scrubs rubbed his wrists, which bore marks of handcuffing, while being addressed by Dr. Swift. “In short, we need you to stop him, and you are the only one who can do it.”

“And you promise me freedom if I do?” The man addressed as Prototype said.

“Only if he is alive when you are done with him.” Ante said, adding a condition to an already rough situation.

Prototype continued rubbing his hands and forearms while staring to the ground as though contemplating the offer. He slowly lifted his head, then eyes, and locked his gaze on Ante for just a second, then flicked his eyes up just a second before running full speed at Ante. Prototype ran up onto Ante’s shoulders, and jumped from there, and dug his fingers painfully into the grating of the overhead air vent. Not superhuman, but a daring feat; Prototype forced the air vent open, and crawled inside.

Ante dusted himself off and looked questioningly to the other two. Shoulders shrugged. They all knew that there was a way to accomplish their desire, and all had to lay aside how uncomfortable they were with the circumstances.

Nimbly and casually, the Prototype made his way through the complicated system of air vents and made it to a hall connecting to the current location of his target, Ross Venin. With light footsteps, Prototype crept down the hall, and peered down the passage containing the crazed superhuman, who stood, at this time, covered in Renegade’s blood, and heaving his chest, as if, breathing in his own power and might.

“I have heard from the Doctor that the captain is not in good health, and must be replaced with a second in command. I am security, Mr. Venin. I must enforce the rules of the candidate for commander.” The Prototype said, standing his ground.

“Let’s see what you can do.” Ross Venin said, realizing he was being presented with a real challenge now. Ross and the Prototype prepared for battle in different ways. Ross wiped the blood from his body as best he could, while the Prototype put on a pair of very worn out gloves, he had drawn out of his pocket. The battle between the two superpowered men began when the Prototype walked with determination down the hall, and was met with a steadier march from Ross Venin. The Prototype yelled in pain as he accelerated to a run, and slid his hands on the sides of the metallic wall. Ross Venin noted with interest how the walls, where touched by his enemy, started to melt, and fall apart. Noticing what was happening, dived for his enemy’s legs. Prototype jumped with his athletic leap, and touched his hands to the ceiling, which, strangely enough, stuck, and as his body swung forward with its momentum, his bare feet did as well, covered only with worn socks. Ross Venin twisted around as stably as his body would allow, which wasn’t much in the heat of the action.

With the crackling of ice –the sound of his hands and feel peeling off, and re-sticking to other parts of the metal ceiling and walls- Prototype turned himself around to face Ross Venin. One hand quickly guarded Prototype’s eyes, as another damaging sneeze shot toward him. Ross venin grabbed onto the scrubs of Prototype, and, in an attempt to pull him from the ceiling, simply ripped the shirt portion straight off. Prototype then relaxed his unnatural hold on the ceiling, dropped with a bear-hug onto Ross Venin. With some tangled limbs, Prototype eventually got control of Ross Venin’s head and pressed it between his bare pectorals. Ross Venin’s groans of struggles quickly changed to screams of pain. With the added adrenaline produced by his fear, Ross released himself, and stumbled backwards, one cheek forming large blisters, the other flaking off dead, frozen skin.

“I learned a lot in my lockup.” Prototype said, to the other superhuman, who was struggling for breath, his overdevelopment of adrenaline in his body was causing him to choke and become capable of only very labored breathing.

“I’m… just like you… aren’t I?” Ross venin said, amid huge gasps, and the sound of Prototype rubbing his hands across his defined pectoral muscles. “Don’t kill… me.” These were his final words before letting go of his damaged, overexerted body. Prototype walked up to Ross Venin, and looked down on his body, and heard footsteps tapping down the hallway, growing closer second by second.

Prototype turned his head to see Abdominal Wall rushing down the hallway. The running blue troop member yelled with frustration, “I am never going to leave this hospital, am I? I get released myself, then I have to save Ross Venin-” Abdominal Wall looked down to see Ross Venin once again, in mortal danger, but this time at the feet of another man, who definitely looked capable of killing. “Get away from him!” Abdominal Wall said as he lunged in to pick up his damaged friend. He became less worried when he realized Prototype simply stepped aside and waited to see what Abdominal Wall would do. “What happened here? Did you kill him?” Abdominal wall asked, hating the fact at this point, that he was the only one speaking. The sudden interruption of Dr. Swift’s voice was shocking but welcome.

“I am fully confidant in The Prototype’s work, Abdominal Wall. You may leave Mr. Venin in my care.” Dr. Swift said as he scooped Ross Venin’s twitchy body into his own arms, and brought him back into the surgical room where Rachegeist lay, asleep. Ante and Officer Lief worked quickly, but calmly as they hooked Ross Venin up to numerous machines, each had, to some degree or another, eyes targeted to penetrate Dr. Swift, who was busy calibrating machines.

“I guess I have some explaining to do, don’t I?” Dr. Swift said after having readied Ross Venin for recovery. The remainder of the Jealous three looked to him intently for answers.

-meanwhile, back outside the surgical room-

“They don’t even pay attention to you…” The Prototype said, leaning down to the ears of Renegade. Prototype reached his hand out and, using his ability to move thermal energy, cauterized Renegade’s nearly fatal wound. “I will save you if you teach me of this world, and give me power and control.” Prototype said, pinching his icy fingers against Renegade’s carotid artery, and jugular vein. Just a second away from pulling all heat from his blood, Renegade choked out the word, “Deal.”

Post read- The plot thickens, but Renegade and Prototype are about to disappear. Soon, Rachegeist will wake up, and another quarrel with Teddy will be underway. How will this battle go if Prisma has Teddy’s prized stuffed bear? Find out in the concluding issues, 11 and 12. Issue 10 will be a special character profile.

Rachegeist issue 8- INAUGURATION

 “Enjoy your nap?” Teddy asked, eyes glossy and droopy. His body showed evidence of a battle; fresh, black bruises dotted his shirtless-top, the shadow of a dark corridor mostly covering him.

“I can’t fight you now” Rachegeist said, tense.

“Oh, no, no, no.” I just need you to do something for me. I couldn’t fight back anyways.” Teddy said, sliding his shoulder against the hallway, drunkenly. He continued sauntering up to Rachegeist, silently and half-smiling until their knees touched. “Just lie down.” Teddy said, painfully trying to shove Rachegeist back onto the MRI table. With as much might as both could muster in their thoroughly beaten state, Teddy’s right shoe pressed onto Rachegeist’s stomach, his left shoe just to Rachegeist’s side. Teddy’s arms stretched awkwardly around his extended right knee, hands gripping Rachegeist’s throat.

“Get… off…” Rachegeist gasped for air.

“Your mind Rachegeist… I can get into, or out of ANYTHING… even your mind! You don’t even know how to use your powers. Since you can’t, I WILL!” Teddy continued choking as hard as he could, but found his strength dramatically lesser than he wanted to believe. Rachegeist’s dying resistance was soon becoming too much to fight off, until his air supply ran too low. Rachegeist’s vision slowly blurred, his senses dulling to the point where he could feel he was about to die. Prisma’s voice then came to him.

“Two seconds more, and opens wide, freedom’s door!” She sounded excited. Was this a haunting explanation of death, or perhaps a crude taunt? Last Rachegeist thought, was that her words were a grain of hope. He held on those two extraordinarily long seconds, then saw, in slow motion, Teddy’s eyes, locked on his, changing. Teddy’s pupils shrank, and his eyes widened. The deathly hands pulled away, not a moment too soon, to grasp his own head tightly.

Rachegeist took his saving gasp, coughed to the further pain of all his muscles, and heard, more as a second thought, Teddy screaming.

“MAKE THEM STOP! Teddy, where are you?!?” Teddy shouted, thrashing, weakly. Rachegeist’s limp body did not allow him to look up and see what Teddy was doing now, but turning his head to his right, he saw, to his delight, Teddy’s stuffed bear, gone. Sleep came quickly then.

-meanwhile, in the halls outside of the Blue Troop medical room-

“You have more to do, don’t you?” Ross Venin said, to the tense and nervous Ante and Officer Lief. They left the immediate left and right of his wheelchair, and went, separately down corridors. Dr. Swift stepped up, gripped Ross’ Wheelchair handle tightly. “You know what I’m about to do, don’t you?” Ross said ominously, not turning his head to his friend.

“Even Ante doesn’t know you as well as I do. You know what I think about it, and you don’t care either way. It would be best for me to just leave, wouldn’t it?” Ross remained silent, despite Dr. Swift’s question.  “I have seen you more dead bodies than most morticians, but I can’t bear to see my own brother-in-law do this to himself.” Another silence. “You are the most jealous of all of us, aren’t you?” Dr. Swift asked, craning his head over to get the direct eye contact he desired. He saw a hollow, cracked smile on his brother-in-law’s face. Horrified at his emotion, Dr. Swift left Ross Venin. His shoes trotted against the ground as he somewhat stomped out of sight and hearing.

“I can now fix everything that went wrong.” Ross Venin said, as though to respond to Dr. Swift’s statements, although now far out of earshot. Ross, with a consuming interest in his own hand, didn’t give a second thought to a woman slipping past him in the narrow, industrial-style hallway. He thought it rather odd she carried a teddy bear.

-further down the hallway-

“Ante!” Dr. Swift panted. “He’s going to kill himself!”

“What? Ante Asked. “You’re crazy! He’s just going to test his superpower, come on!”

“No, he won’t survive. He’s too caught up in his fantasies… and none of us can stop him.”

-back to Ross Venin-

Every line and crease of flesh was memorized by the penetrating eye of Ross Venin. He clenched his hand slowly, and placed his feet in a position to rise out of his wheelchair. His muscles tensed for a moment as he leaned forward to stand, but his extremely focused state broke, as he heard the clanging of metal armor boots clanging on the steel floor. Ross turned his head to look down to the right-hand corridor, and saw a large man, in demonic looking medieval battle armor, trudging toward him. His breathing was heavy, and his eyes very dark. He was extremely out-of-place, but menacing, and in a world, and a time when out-of-place was becoming the norm.

“A perfect testing candidate, you seem pretty well protected” Ross Venin said, an insane glare in his eyes.

“Take me to Rachegeist. I am going to finish something I started long ago.” The armored man said.

“I sense an incredible desire to destroy, in your statement. “ Ross Venin said, as he twisted his wheelchair 90 degrees to face his ‘test subject’.

“I want everything to be stuck between creation and destruction… I want everything to be preserved… in chaos. I will soon be king of this world, and in time, all will know Renegade, the agent of Chaos.” The armored man said, lifting his gauntlet-coated hand, and clenching his fist in relished glory.

“Consider me your ultimate stepping stone to that dream’s realization.” Ross Venin said, and carted his way over, laughing his head off. It was a comedic way to start a fight, they both thought, Ross Venin uncontrollably seized by his laughter, a man thinking he can rule the world in medieval armor, because he seeks to introduce chaos to everything. On the other end of the spectrum, Renegade, in his large stature, looked down to a slim nerd in a wheelchair, gliding towards him. The action started quickly though, and both would regret being too casual about this fight.

Renegade inaugurated the action by unsheathing a broadsword, and raising it up above his head. Ross Venin, not able to miss such a golden opportunity, made his first use of his increased chemical control, and… sneezed. The excrement flew straight into Renegade’s eyes and caused him to immediately drop his sword to his side, and collapse to the ground, choking back cries.

“Saliva… into stomach acid!” Ross said, and forcefully shoved his wheels downward so suddenly, that he fell out, elbow extended to slide into the gap in Renegade’s armor at the throat. The second body’s slam would have spelled near death for the armored brute, but was saved by that element alone; his armor’s gap was not big enough to allow the entire elbow to stick in to a neck-breaking distance. Despite his coughs, Renegade reached his hands behind his head and pulled his own head toward his chest, to keep Ross Venin’s elbow pinned there, while he blinked and cried the powerful acid out of his eyes.

As soon as Ross Venin could slip his arm out of the clamping armor pieces, Renegade had drained his eyes of the offending liquid and started up to his feet, his sword in hand. Ross turned his body half-over, his hips still downward, but his shoulders facing his enemy, so he could be vigilant for the oncoming attack. The swing of the broadsword was met with disappointment, seeing only little blood. Ross Venin had blocked the strike with his middle finger’s knuckle.

His other arm struggling weakly under his own weight, Ross Venin cranked his head up to look Renegade in the eyes. “I am now the greatest in the entire Blue Troop, I can mimic the muscle density of Neil Morgan’s. If anyone could rule the world, it would be me.” With ease, Ross Venin pulled the sword from Renegade’s hand, and tossed it behind himself. “Steel muscles.” Ross reiterated his former action, by naming it. “Accelerated healing.” Ross Venin stood up on his feet, with tremendous shaking. “I will make sure you don’t forget… super strength!”

Post read- Was Prisma perhaps a little too excited about the approach of this Renegade character, or will the new super-powered Ross Venin die using his powers like Dr. Swift had predicted? This action and more will be determined in the next issue of RACHEGEIST.

Rachegeist issue 7- PURSUIT

“Do you feel safe here?” A gun-toting bus driver said to a dreamily moving mid-twenties woman in a dangerous part of a large, dangerous town, at 11:30pm. She simply mumbled indistinctly as she walked to an empty seat. All eyes were on her, the one person on an otherwise ethnically singular bus; this all being noted in the mind of the bus driver, as he looked into his rear view mirror. To his great disturbance, he noticed that she had eye-shaped tattoos on her constantly closed eyelids.

Lustful comments about her physical features were made by other bus-riders, up until the moment she got off the bus. She was being pursued by two men of notorious gang leadership. They followed her into the street, escorted her into a building… and were not seen again until the morning. The two men were found dead, their ears scratched off by their own hands, yet the cause of their death a mystery. Their blood now mingled with a janitor’s mop hairs.

-Meanwhile-

“You PUSHED his soul back into his body?” Dr. Swift asked Rachegeist, all calmed now by the beeping of a machine monitoring Ross Venin’s healthy heart rate.

“I control light, so, I figured a soul is light, and pushed it back in him.” Rachegeist answered, his chemically-paralyzed body about to enter an MRI.

“Good night, Mr. Brown.” Dr. Swift said, behind his gas-mask, opening one of Ross Venin’s signature opiate gas canisters. “Count back from 100”.

There was no point to that. Rachegeist couldn’t resist the sleeping gas after so many tiring electrical shocks; he couldn’t even finish saying ‘one hundred.’

-Meanwhile-

After a rib-breaking beating, Teddy continued to resist the capture of Neil Morgan’s full-Nelson.

“How much do I need to show you before you understand that I have chosen to get OUT of here?!?” Teddy wheezed, popped both of his shoulders out of joint, and slid down out of the hold and scurried away from Neil Morgan’s steel-muscle frame.

“Are you ready to understand the limit of your ability?” Neil Morgan said, and ran to Teddy again. Teddy dropped to his knees, stabbed his fingers into the pressure points on Neil’s stomach, paralyzing him momentarily, enough time for Teddy to strike more pressure points on Neil’s neck. Staggering from the sense-disrupting strikes, Neil fell to the ground, and became the recipient of his own heavy steel chair, being slammed onto his head. Teddy, gripping his ribs, thought hard to figure out how to get out of the room before Neil Morgan would get back up.

Teddy prodded an elevator button in urgency; his enemy was so close to his feet now. Then, Teddy noticed his only hope of escape, the giant circulation fan. With great pain, Teddy climbed the grate-covering to the gigantic fan.

Neil Morgan stood, his eyes darting about the trashed room and then saw, his fan, toppling over, toward him.

SLAM

-Meanwhile-

“He’s close now.” A slurry female voice said to Rachegeist, realizing his dream state. “Only as you allow…” She continued, “Will his fantasies become truth? Survival is for the aloof.”

Who are you, and what are you talking about?” Rachegeist asked, finding his dream to be of a dark backstreet, a woman with tattooed eyes speaking to him.

“I am Prisma…” She said.

“…No Rhyme for this one?” Rachegeist questioned.

“None whatsoever, even poetry doesn’t last forever. Teddy’s time has come, and you soon escape this slum.” She directed his attention to his dream’s surroundings. “The entire world’s attention is on you. Whether they know it or not, Teddy’s ears are ringing, but before long they will stop. When this is done, Renegade won’t be far. No way to run, from memory’s scar.” Prisma started to fade away.

“How do you know Teddy? Who is Renegade?” Rachegeist asked, more confused than ever. The world around him rapidly disintegrated and gave way to the slowing hum and light of the MRI

“Well THAT sucked.” Ante said. “We PARALYZE you, and you still manage to twitch like a hooked fish.” He then spoke to Dr. Swift. “Any good images?”

“Good enough.” Dr. Swift said. “Mr. Venin, he is now yours. I am sure your pocket book can cover his need for new clothing.” He said, reluctantly releasing his patient.

The table slid out, and for the first time, Rachegeist saw the conscious face of the famous Ross Venin. He was bound heavily in bandages, and seated in a wheelchair.

“I am sorry to give you such a bad view of the Blue Troop. It’s just the jealous three that are so bad.” Ross made the three angry, but they were all quickly reminded that it was Ross’ money that funded their experiments. “I trust my testers have learned enough from you. I am setting you free.” He said, and limply signaled to Ante and Officer Lief to cart him out. Rachegeist remained on his experimental table, now seated, looking at Dr. Swift, who was also seated, but on a short, backless swivel chair.

Rachegeist asked the Doctor while he stripped off his gloves, “Why don’t the three of you kill him while he is weak, and take his money?”

“Even in his current condition, he could kill the jealous three. And, why kill the goose that lays the golden egg?” Dr. Swift pushed up his glasses, turned around, and went for the door. “Oh!” He paused, and scribbled on a piece of paper. “Your prescription!” He said, then threw a paper in the air, and as if out of nowhere, threw a scalpel into the paper, and both stuck into the wall, inches from Rachegeist’s head.

“Kill the man who did this to you- Raymond Swift” the prescription read. Rachegeist’s stomach churned to see, also, next to him, a stuffed Teddy bear, holding “Get better soon” balloons.

Post-read- Disaster on all counts! Can Rachegeist survive another encounter with Teddy in his current condition? Is the director of the Blue Troop permanently buried under cold steel? Prisma warns of ‘Renegade’… check out Issue number 8 of the Rachegeist series to find out.

Reblog if you are someone who understands the need to sniff old books

(Source: thetaoofzoe)

Rachegeist’s future…

So, readers, fellowriters,

At this point, I am just a little bit over halfway done posting all the Rachegeist issues that I had formerly written on paper, and take some time to transition to a keyboard. The current story ark/series of Rachegeist doesn’t go on much further, but there are some really exciting things about to happen. Just today, driving around, listening to some good, quality, wrathful Matchbook Romance music, I had some inspiration for a big battle between Teddy and Rachegeist, that will be the climax of the current arc. If you are really paying attention to the series, this will help to answer some of you questions about “Renegade” mentioned a few issues back. The tentatively titled “Rachegeist: Renegade” story arc to follow the current “Teddy” stories, will begin shortly after this epic battle I have been envisioning. It will take place in a bell tower/ old church building and will be, if I can write it out the way I see it in my head, a very exciting battle. That, and some increased attention on Ross Venin’s character will be coming up that I think some of my readers from before will enjoy. Thanks for your views and following!

Habits of a Writer

writersrelief:

(Source: whispering-literature)

Rachegeist issue 6- TENSION

VOOM VOOM.

Neil Morgan lay on his bed, half asleep. His room was separated from his steel-coated Blue Troop headquarters inner sanctum by a grate-covered industrial fan, running slowly with its five foot long blades. A small hallway to the right of the elevator, the only means of entry to the rooms, so many floors below the ground, connected the two rooms. The 15-foot wide flat-screen Blue Troop monitor cast a dark blue glow in the dark of the space. Habitually, Neil Morgan continued watching the monitor, interrupted every other second by the passing of giant fan blades.

VOOM. Suddenly, a figure appeared.

VOOM. It was Teddy, staring up at the monitor, directly below it.

VOOM. Neil Morgan sat up. “I wondered why Rachegeist would need to come back to me so quickly.” he said. “How did YOU get his GPS Blue Trop card?”

“You should keep better track of your own minions, Mr. Morgan. Do you really know whose team Ante, Lief, and Dr. Swift are playing for?” Teddy asked, eyes fixed on the names moving around the city, other GPS tracked Blue Troop members.

“MINE obviously. If you had control of them, you would be with them now, testing Rachegeist yourself.” Neil Morgan’s surety remained.

“That won’t make a difference.” Teddy said, turning to Neil, his hand reaching for a button to turn off the monitor. “I know where your JEALOUS THREE are holding Rachegeist.”

“I would ask how you got in here, but that would be stupid. I usually don’t get visitors, and I’m Territorial!” Neil Morgan said, throwing his heavy body at his intruder.

-MEANWHILE-

“I could turn off all your machines, RIGHT NOW.” Rachegeist taunted, electrodes being attached to his body.

Ante simply flicked open his cell phone in Rachegeist’s face. “Start here then!” Ante taunted back. “Your abilities do not stretch THAT far.”

“You, Rachegeist, need to learn something. In the Blue Troop there are more than just confederate vigilantes. There are trackers, like me, gatherers, like Ante, and… experimenters, like Dr. Swift here.” Officer Lief said, introducing his comrades formally.

“You snakey-“ Rachegeist wanted to insult his captor.

“Ante, Swift, and Lief, we are the Jealous three.” The Doctor said, typing into a computer.

“Jealous Three?” Rachegeist asked, confused.

“The Blue Troop’s notorious triad of quirk heroes, seeking to have superpowers… now we have a test subject to study!” Ante strapped a mask to his own face.

“Jealous of me and the other real heroes.” Rachegeist’s sentence was punctuated by an electric shock to his system, followed by more, with villainous comments between.

“Brain waves, normal” ZAP

“Heart rate, normal” ZAP

“Hormones, regular” ZAP

“Blood chemistry-“ A fourth zap replaced with the swinging open of a door.

Rachegeist saw abdominal wall, the most muscular man he’d ever seen, burst in, holding Ross Venin in his arms, instantly attracting the entire room’s attention. Dr. Swift ran immediately to his new patient, and highest clientele.

“A chemical bullet?” Dr. Swift said, disgusted, pulling plastic pieces out of Ross Venin’s chest.

“SURGICAL TABLE!” Dr. Swift demanded, into the open. Lifting Ross and laying him down, he asked Abdominal Wall with noticeable stress, “How long has he been dead?”

-MEANWHILE-

Teddy crashed backward, over Neil Morgan’s steel chair. Their struggle became elevated quickly, Teddy springing around the room dodging any further attacks.

“What is it you want?!?” Neil asked with strained jaws.

“I want the voices to stop!” Teddy responded, his own finger sticking to his temple. “Rachegeist can shut them up!”

“What do you mean?” Neil Morgan asked, halted, sweaty, and panting.

“I want them to STOP!” Teddy shouted back, and made a break for the elevator. He found himself chocked by his straightjacket collar just before he entered the elevator.

“Forget jail!” Neil Morgan said, tossing Teddy across the room and into the brick wall on the other side. “FORGET THE ASYLUM!” Neil pressed the up button, and the elevator went up as Teddy made his way up to his feet.

“I can get into , or OUT OF anything! I want to get out!” Teddy ran to Neil, now bent on beating him into the ground. His hopes were suddenly trampled, as Neil’s fists crashed down on Teddy’s ramming shoulder. With a scream, Teddy popped his arm back into place and received a roundhouse kick to the stomach. Teddy fell to the floor.

-MEANWHILE-

“CLEAR!” Dr. Swift shouted above the rising screech of a defibrillator, and shocked Ross with a jolt. “We are going to need a LOT MORE voltage for Mr. Venin!” Dr. Swift informed Ante, who boosted the voltage. Another screech and surge of electricity, followed by a very animated act of CPR by Dr. Swift. “I CAN’T LOSE YOU!” He shouted desperately.

“Brain waves… scattered…” Officer Lief said in disbelief.

“He’s dead!” Dr. Swift wept. “He HAS no brain waves!”

“No, Rachegeist!” Officer Lief pointed. Suddenly Ross Venin gasped for air, alive.

Post-read- check out the exciting action in Issue 7- PURSUIT