Tales of the Ram

Ugh

2005-09-16T20:30:00.000-07:00

This was a busy ass week. Hopefully I'll have time for a chapter this weekend.

Chapter 12

2005-09-05T18:24:00.000-07:00

“That was... yeah, what was the point again?” Ram asked, pinching the flesh between his eyes to fight off the mild headache he was beginning to feel. “Anyone who grew up in Demont has heard the urban legend of Dr Chimera- what does that have to do with the missing kids?”

“Urban legends have a scary tendency of coming to life, at least in people’s own minds,” Bob told him, leaning back against the garbage bin and pushing up the brim of his hat with his cane. “But this much is real- the skinny suit that a few of the “invisible” people on the streets witnessed taking the kids away has a growing reputation amongst the homeless. He’s approached folks about volunteering for medical testing before- and not all of them have come back from it.”

Ram narrowed his eyes and nodded grimly. “So this man is using the homeless as cheap, human test subjects?”

“Those who’ve turned up again on the streets don’t like to talk about it,” Bob wiped his filthy hand across his sweat and grease laden face. “Hell, they don’t like talking much, period. Poor bastards just walk the streets in a haze, like they’re on a constant trip of some kind. Dr Chimera may be an urban legend, but what this guy is doing is bad enough to get people spinning the old yarns again.”

“I see,” Ram motioned to the figure in the shadows. “All right, Bob, that’ll do. As usual, I’ll be in touch.” Ram turned to walk away, then paused, looking back in Bob’s direction. “All things considered, you’re not going to sleeping on the streets yourself, are you?”

Bob laughed a bit, rapping his cane against the garbage bin. “Concern, costume? Well, you don’t have to worry about me- I wander the streets to get my information, it doesn’t mean I’m a man without options.”

“Good for you, then,” Ram told him, briskly walking into the shadows himself. “Happy holidays.”

“Well, that was a bust,” Jamie remarked, his voice echoing within the Decibel armor as he and Ram walked briskly through the shadowed alleyways.

“Maybe not so much,” Ram remarked, trying to keep up with Jamie’s pace with his right arm in the sling. “Old Bob was dodging the question, but I think he told us the story of Dr Chimera for a reason. If all he knew was that the “skinny suit” led the kids away, why would he go on that tangent?”

“What- you don’t really think that- I mean come on, man! Dr Chimera?!” Jamie scoffed. “Man, people were telling that story before we were even born.”

“Yeah, look- I know,” Ram told him, putting up his free hand defensively. “I’m just saying, he may have been trying to give us a clue without stating anything outright. Come on, we’re making a stop at the hardware store for some wading boots.”

“Oh, well-“ Jamie stopped, letting Ram walk ahead of him. “Uh uh. No. We’re not doing it.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that hour, Jamie found himself wading behind Ram, knee deep in very foul smelling water through the concrete sewer tunnels. “I hate you, Rick. I hate you with every breath of my body.”

“What you mean is “I hate you RAM,” Ram reminded him, waving his halogen flashlight about. “Seriously “Decibel,” we can’t use our real names when we’re out like this.”

“Fine, whatever,” Decibel grumbled, sloshing through the water, all too glad he couldn’t smell much through the armor. “What do you even expect to find down here?”

“Evidence; foot prints, discarded clothing or the shreds there of.” Ram told him as he scrutinized the stained and putrid looking walls. “We’re only going to search the drains below Shinbone. This may end up being a bust, but it’s the only lead we have.”

“Such as it is,” Decibel griped, following Ram just the same.

As the pair made their way through the drains and tunnel ways, in the distance behind them a pair of bare, leathery feet stepped lightly, slowly. In the darkness, a pair of red eyes stared out at them unblinking and unwavering.

“We have guests...” a low, grating voice whispered to it’s owner.

Chapter 11

2005-08-31T18:02:00.000-07:00

Daniel Kurtz seemed no different than any other kid who grew up in the city. He liked playing baseball in the park and hockey in the streets. He listened to his mom and dad and washed behind his ears. But Daniel was sick- sick in the head. When he was ten years old, another boy from his school caught Daniel cutting open a dead stray cat in alley. The boy told his parents, who told Daniel’s parents. His parents were worried, but figured Daniel was just curious. He swore to never do it again, and that was enough for them.
Months later, Daniel’s father caught him hiding something in his closet. It was another cat, but this was one was still alive. Daniel had cut it open and sewed it back up- but that wasn’t all. When asked why he’d do such a thing, Daniel confessed to removing the cat’s heart and replacing it with the heart he’d taken from a dead dog. Daniel’s parents had the cat mercifully put to sleep and tore their son’s room apart, finding the limbs and organs of dogs and cats hidden in his chests and drawers, as well as several rusted knives and emptied bottles of chloroform.
Daniel’s parents were horrified, and immediately sent Daniel away to a specialist. Daniel’s "problem" was diagnosed and he was heavily medicated. When Daniel returned to neighborhood the following year, he seemed very calm much of the time, almost as if he were bored with everything.
For the rest of his school years, Daniel seemed to have grown out of his disturbed behavior. He graduated from highschool and went on to medical college, eventually earning his doctorate. His family assured themselves that Daniel’s earlier actions were simply a misplaced interest in medicine. In time, Daniel went on to open a public practice in his old neighborhood. He became well known in the city for offering free medical services to the homeless and derelict who happened upon his office.
Shortly after his parents passed on, rumors began to spread about the now Dr Kurtz’s practice. Several of the homeless people who had gone to office weren’t seen leaving it until days later. Worse yet, several of them were beginning to turn up inexplicably dead. When the autopsies were completed, the coroners and forensic scientists were horrified to find several of the person’s organs had been removed- removed, and replaced with animals organs.
The police stormed into Kurtz’s office with intent to arrest him, but the doctor was gone, apparently having the foresight his actions would be found out. But as the story goes, Kurtz did not go far. He remained in the city, living on the same streets as his victims. Every few months or so, the police would find another of Kurtz’s victims, a corpse with human parts removed and replaced animals organs- and over time, even animals limbs.
But more disturbing yet, reports began to come in of a twisted form of a man skulking about in the alleys and sewers of the city. It walked like a man, but upon feet of hooves, with the scaley arms of an alligator, the horns of a goat, the arching back of a bear, and the tail of a snake trailing behind. So people began to believe that Kurtz had created the human and animal beast he’d been trying to create all his life- or, more horribly yet, that Kurtz had made himself into this grissly Chimera.

Chapter 10

2005-08-22T15:50:00.000-07:00

Behind a fancy diner in western Demont a middle aged, very badly kempt man rummaged through a poorly locked dumpster. The man wore a loosely fitted army jacket and black sunglasses, a white tipped cane hung from his right wrist. "Lessee," the man spoke only to himself. "Tonight, we gots a half eaten steak sammich, with a side of discarded riblets... and do my eyes deceive me? A quarter clice of death by choclit cake?" the man smacked his lips almost comically as he gathered the scraps of food up.
"Enough for three, Bob?" a low, grating voice called out behind him. The man whirled around to find a familiar, black masked face glaring into his own visage.
"RAM!" Bob exclaimed, stumbling back into the dumpster’s metal rim. "Shiite! Why the fuck you always do that t’ me, huh?"
"Because it’s funny," Ram grimaced at Bob beneath his mask. As Ram stepped out of the shadows, Bob noticed that his costume was now draped and covered by a long, leather looking cape.
"G- going for a new look?" Bob tried to jest, though his stutter gave away his fear. "Hey- why did you say "three?"
"I brought company," Ram told him, gesturing behind him at a bulky silhouette still standing in shadows. Bob could only make out a pair of pointed ears and the glimmer metal before nodding nervously.
"Ho-okay," Bob wrung his hands around his cane. "Look- I’m not stupid. I’ve seen you clean the clocks of three goons at once."
"Clean the clocks of three goons at once." the shadowed figure repeated jest fully. "Wow, this guy is like a bad Dick Tracy character."
"Hey, I’m just saying-no run around this time," Bob told them. "Whatever you need, just ask and I’ll tell you. For... you know... the usual price."
Rick, cocked his head to one side, the let his left hand slip out from beneath his cape, holding a hot sandwich in a plastic box.
"Arby’s roast beef?" Bob asked hopefully.
"Jumbo size," Ram confirmed.
"With cheese?"
"Yes,"
Bob eagerly took the sandwich. "Okay, shoot."
"Some children went missing this week, Bob, kids who lived on the streets in Shinbone." Ram told him. "I need to know who these kids are, or who has them, or- what the hell- both."
Bob stuffed the sandwich into his coat, suddenly looking very sullen. "Look, I’ve got no love for any costumes, especially YOU, but I say this outta what little professional courtesy I have- stay outta this one."
"And why would you want me to do that, Bob?" Ram narrowed his blank eyes into thin slits.
"You and I both know Demont can be a dark place to live if you don’t have the money to stay in one o’ the ivory towers," Bob told Ram, tapping his cane against the dumpster. "You and I also know that in this city, there ARE real monsters, and not monsters like guys like Jonah Cash- naw, I mean of the boogeyman variety. The kinn’a horrors parents used to use to keep their kids in line."
"I’ve already met my share of those," Ram said, recalling with no pleasure his run ins with the all too real Grim Reaper.
"But you haven’t met THIS monster," Bob told him, getting out a cigarette and a lighter. "Look, you paid the fee, so I at least owe you a story. It’s a story the homeless bums from Shinbone to the Blitz Bridge know from experience."
Bob lit his cigarette and took a long, deliberate puff from it. "It’s the story of Dr. Chimera."

Chapter 9

2005-08-14T20:51:00.000-07:00

Maria woke up with a start, feeling as if she’d been tossed into a vat of cold water. She cried out, her voice echoing into the uncertain darkness that surrounded her. Cold sweat ran down her brow and her eyes darted around, trying to make sense of her surroundings. She could see nothing, nothing but the uncertain darkness.
Maria tried to move, but her arms were bound behind her back, her ankles bound together and tied stiffly to the floor. She tried to roll over onto her other side, her left cheek cold and wet from the stone floor she’d slept upon. Pushing with as much effort as could muster, she managed to shift herself onto her right side. "Diego..." she rasped, straining to see the outlined form of her brother. "Diego, are you there?"
There was a shifting sound, and Maria began to hear Diego’s heavy breathing. "Yeah," he answered back weakly. "I’m here, sis."
"Diego, where are we? Why can’t I move?" Maria asked, panic rising in her throat.
"I dunno," he said, his own voice straining with anxiety. "I woke up a few minutes ago, I can’t..." there was a pause and the sound of chains shaking. "He put us in chains, Maria. God... I’m sorry. You were right. We should never have trusted him."
"You’re damn right we should have never trusted him!" Maria half shouted. "I knew from the get go this was going to be a snow-job, but this-"
Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, a cold sense of dread spreading through them both. "We need to get out of here." Maria said simply, turning over onto her left side again. "Try to scoot over to me." Diego began to shuffle backward across the floor, until his bound hands were touching his sister’s. Maria strained to bend her hands back, fumbling as she tried to grasp the chains that bound him.
"It’s no use, Maria, they’re locked." Diego told her, but Maria kept picking at the chains regardless. They heard steps, and they both froze, their heart rates increasing. There was the sound of a rusted lock shifting, and bright light came streaming into their room, nearly blinding them.
Maria squinted, attempting to discern a form of some kind between the blinding light. All she could make out was a dark silhouette, a form stooped over as it had a hunch. Between it’s legs, Maria swore she saw a third limb swinging about, and she realized with a start of fright that it was some sort of tail.
"Were these the best you could do?" a voice echoed, as it was speaking through a helmet.
"They are in excellent health," a voice Maria recognized answered. "And are completely unattached. The authorities may have a fleeting interest in their disappearance, but only fleeting."
The two children heard what sounded like the clopping of hooves against the floor as the hunched form came closer to them. Maria felt a wet, scaley pair of fingers pinch her cheek, and she shuddered without control. "Well... beggars can’t be choosers... can they sweety?"
In that moment, Maria found herself almost longing for a cold night on the streets.

Chapter 8

2005-07-31T07:35:00.000-07:00

Under the surface of the Maine home, Rick found himself inside the converted bomb shelter, rummaging through his father’s storage lockers as Jamie stood behind, impatiently trying to piece together Rick’s recap of the evening.
"So the Ultimate man..." Jamie began.
"Yeah," Rick confirmed, pulling out a cape of his father’s and shaking the dust off.
"...the real life equivalent of Superman,"
"I suppose."
"He asked you for help."
"Yeah, he did."
"And you’re just- not going to acknowledge how big a DEAL that is," Jamie stated, folding his arms.
"Well, I think if I did, my head would probably explode," Rick quipped, draping the grey, heavy material cape over his shoulders. "Good God, this thing must weigh forty pounds."
"Maybe it’s bullet proof," Jamie suggested, poking the cape with his forefinger. "Hey, you know, I saw some 45 caliber guns in the far left locker awhile ago, want to-"
"No," Rick said shortly, pulling the cape over his right arm and its sling. "Okay, if I use some 2-sided tape, this should cover up my injury. No one will be able to tell the Ram has a disabled shoulder."
"Clever enough," Jamie agreed. "Though if you go out as the Ram at all, SOMEONE is going to want to kick your ass."
"Well, that’s where you come in, "Decibel," so long as you’re willing to get my back," Rick told him, walking over to a counter covered in aged tools and began rummaging through the drawers for some tape to use.
"Eh, the costumed character bit is your shtick, not mine," Jamie told Rick, his shoulders sagging. "Just the same, I guess I can’t just let you get your ass kicked. So all right, I’ll put on the armor again and tag along with you."
Rick found the tape and spun the roll around his finger. "All right, the agenda for tonight is to confirm everything Ultimate told me. It isn’t that I don’t trust him-"
"It’s that you don’t know him," Jamie finished for him.
Rick turned around, looking genuinely hurt. "Am I that predictable now?"
Jamie smirked at him. "What do you mean, NOW?"
"Hilarious," Rick said dryly, tossing the tape at Jamie before making his way to the weapons displayed on the far wall. "He has an agenda, and he’s not hiding that. But a man who’d slip me a tracking device is not one who’ll easily earn my trust."
"Especially since, well, you don’t trust anyone." Jamie told him.
"I trust you," Rick simply, scrutinizing a few devices upon the wall.
"I’m all a flutter," Jamie joked, walking up behind Rick. "You sure about taking on another case this soon after..." his voice trailed off.
"What happened between Ariel and I today... you’re right. I shouldn’t avoid dealing with it, and I won’t." Rick took hold of a device that was simply labeled "wicked yo-yo" and appeared to be exactly that. "But if there really are two children in this city in the kind of danger Ultimate described- I can’t ignore that. If I’m seriously going to be the Ram, I have to put myself aside for others." Rick fitted the clamp of the device around his left wrist and tested its weight. "It’s what Dad would have done."
"Well then," Jamie said, slapping a hand on Rick’s shoulder. "If that’s how you feel, then who needs sleep? Let’s get out there and knock some heads, or- I dunno, I’m not good with the one liners like you are."
"Right," Rick smirked, spinning the head of the device. "Let’s get to work."

Chapter 7

2005-07-24T20:33:00.000-07:00

Rick sat there silently, drumming his fingers against the table.
"Okay."
"Do I even want to KNOW?"
The man sitting across from him looked at Rick very soberly, his hands clasped before him. "Yes, I really believe you do."
Rick leaned back in his seat, looking very visibly uncomfortable. "All right- you know, I go through this kind of weirdness on a regularity of about once a week. If you’ve got some kind of point to this, do me a favor and just cut to it."
Ultimate’s facial expression did not change as he mused. "You really are just like your father."
Rick grimaced, feeling frustration rise in the back of his throat. "Yeah, you know, I get that a lot."
"Your father was a good man," Ultimate continued. "I won’t bore you with the specific details, but I’m sure you were aware that he and I were often allies."
"Um... yeah, that... yeah that rings a bell," Rick told him, trying to remain composed.
I REALLY HAVE NO CLUE WHAT HE’S TALKING ABOUT
"I came here because I am aware that you have taken up your father’s mantel, and frankly, I need help. The sort of help only your father was ever able to give me," Ultimate explained to Rick.
"Oh, well, I can appreciate-" Rick narrowed his eyes at Ultimate, suddenly looking annoyed again. "How did you find me here?" Ultimate said nothing, and Rick came to the conclusion himself, pulling the card Ultimate gave him earlier out of his coat pocket. "A phone, eh?"
"I only said it was something like that," Ultimate told him. "I recognized you as Matthew’s son, and knew I’d need to contact you."
"Well, that’s all well and good-" Rick said, slapping the card on the table as he stood. "-but I think we’re done here. I don’t like being tricked."
Before Rick could walk away he felt a firm hand, like cold steel, take hold of his free forearm. "Maine... Ram, please. I won’t defend my methods. But believe me when I say that if I am not a man who chooses his allies lightly. I am here because I genuinely need your help- and if a man such as I needs your help, truly you can understand the level of the problem?"
Rick felt an odd mix of fear and anxiety well in his stomach, and he found himself sitting back down. "All right... I’ll hear you out."
Ultimate put his hands back on the table as if nothing had happened. "What happened to me earlier today was no random incident. I wasn’t simply attacked- I was drained."
"Drained?" Rick repeated.
"In a fraction of a second, I felt all of my strength leave my body," Ultimate explained to him. "This is not a completely foreign sensation for me; when you’ve been in this business as long as I have, your enemies find ways to handicap you. My team managed to get me back to base safely, and we discovered a surveillance camera captured a vague image of a man setting up equipment upon a rooftop that was well within range of where I was flying."
"You think this man is the one who... assaulted you?" Rick asked carefully.
"The tape wasn’t clear," Ultimate told him. "However, by running a cross report, we found the man in the image matched the description of another man who is a suspect in a kidnaping case, a kidnaping that occurred in Shinbone."
"But- wait, I don’t see how those two incidents relate," Rick told him. "What would motivate a kidnapper to... "drain you?"
"The kidnaped in question were two children- homeless children known only as Maria and Diego," Ultimate continued. "Before the vanished, they complained to a social worker about a man harassing them a regular basis to participate in medical experiments. As I said, I’ve been in this business a long time. I can tie together these two incidents."
Rick paused, looking thoughtful. "I need you to understand something- I am not in the best of health. I cannot participate in anything that requires me to, well, fight."
Ultimate nodded, "I understand, and you needn’t worry. I only ask for your consultation."
Rick stood again, but slowly. "Give me a day to get some things in order- I’ll do what I can."
Ultimate stood as well, shaking Rick’s free hand. "I’d expect nothing less from Matthew Maine’s son."

Chapter 6

2005-07-17T22:10:00.000-07:00

Rick felt like he was going to throw up.
His head was spinning, his ears were ringing, and he just had the irresistible urge to wretch.
Jamie came over to Rick’s seat at the counter and handed him a tall, frosty glass of golden brew. "Here you go, man, first round." He then eyed Rick a bit oddly. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Rick began tugging at his ears, irritated. "Jamie, you KNOW how I feel about country music."
Jamie laughed before throwing back nearly a third of his own glass. "Hey, all I was said what they didn’t card- I never promised you’d liked the joint."
"Hmm," Rick mused on that before he began to sip his beer. "You know... I never used to understand what the appeal of beer was. It tastes terrible. It takes at least six cans to even get tipsy... but now...." Rick began to drink it down more readily. "A cheap, horrible tasting drug seems just right."
"Look man..." Jamie started, motioning with his hand. "You got dumped. And that sucks. It’s gonna suck, and you’re probably not going to get over Ariel for a long, long time."
Rick paused, looking over at Jamie sympathetically. "Mary."
Jamie nodded, leaning back in his seat. "I always talk big, Rick, but when your sister broke up with me- well, it sucker punched me."
Rick looked down at his beer, unsure of what to really say. "It still doesn’t seem real." he finally remarked.
"And it won’t." Jamie told him. For awhile, you’re just not going to know what to think of it, how you’re supposed to feel. But one morning, you’re just going to get up, and you’ll feel it. It won’t feel good... but you’ll know."
Before Rick could respond, a waitress came by and placed a shot of vodka. "I... didn’t order this." Rick told her.
"You didn’t, but that man did, honey," the waitress told him, pointing across the room at a tall, well built man wearing reflective shades. "He said he figured you might like it."
Rick gave Jamie a look, Jamie could only respond with a shrug. Rick picked up the glass, thought it over, then stood up. "You know, I may as well be nice and take it back to him."
"This ought ta’ be entertaining..." Jamie mused as Rick walked over to the man’s table.
"I appreciate the gesture..." Rick told the man, setting the drinking on the table. "But... no thanks."
The man took hold of the side of his glasses, dipping them down below his eyes. His whites, pupils, and retinas were all encompassed with a glowing, bluish purple haze. "The gesture is not quite what you believe it to be."
Rick stood still, shocked, then narrowed his eyes before sitting down.
Jamie looked over at the waitress, his eyes suddenly very large. "Uh, I’m sure he’s just... uh..."
"Hoo-boy."
Rick almost glared at the man seated before. "The Ultimate Man."
The man sat back a bit, setting his sun glasses back upon his face. "And you- are Matthew Maine’s son."
"You’re the son of the Ram."

Chapter 5

2005-07-10T22:19:00.000-07:00

Assistant Coach Moore was sitting in his office, doing the usual paper work that came with the end of the collegiate football season. He looked up at his wall, seeing a photo of the prior year’s team photo at the Rosebowl and shook his head sadly. "Just had to push our luck, didn’t you Coach?"
There was a soft tapping on his door, and Moore looked up from his desk again. "Yeah?" he called out a bit gruffly.
The door opened slowly with a light clicking sound, and a large, very built young man with the visage of a wolf stepped inside, slowly and uncertainly. "Co- Mr Moore? Can we talk?"
Moore’s face softened, and he sat back in his seat. "Sure, Bernstien. Take a seat."
Jerod sat down in the small chair in front of Moore’s desk, clasping his hands together. "What’s on your mind?" Moore asked.
"I need your help sir, I-" Jerod looked away for a moment, and his expression become sterner before looking back at Moore. "I need you to train me."
"Bernstien, son-" Moore held up his left palm. "I’m sorry for what happened to you. I’m especially sorry that I let the coach convince me to keep your blood tests a secret..." Moore sighed in frustration. "But all that said- the school’s decision was the right one, the one we should have made to begin with. It’s too dangerous for you to play football against people who are..."
"Only human?" Jerod finished for him. "I understand all that, sir. I’m not asking for you to train me as a football player." Jerod looked over at a pair of worn, red gloves. "I want you to teach me how to fight."
"Fight?" Moore found himself beginning to stand. "No- no that is NOT a good idea. I think you should go."
"Why? Jerod asked, narrowing his eyes at Moore. "Because my father is Atlas? Because I’m the son of a criminal?"
"Bernstien..."
"He beat and tortured my mother, sir." Jerod told Moore with a glint in his eyes. "He came on to this campus, and he killed Officer Dewey. He almost killed friends of mine. And I couldn’t stop him because I- didn’t know pain. I didn’t know how to counter it." Jerod bowed his head.
"He’ll be back for me, sir. He’ll be back- and people I care about may get hurt if I can’t stand up to him."
Moore looked down at this bulking, yet morose figure seated before him and heaved his aching shoulders, resigned. Jerod felt a firm hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Moore leaning down beside him. "I had a father who beat my mother, beat me on occasion, too. If I could’ve given him a few good jabs back in the day, I would’ve." Moore slapped Jerod’s shoulder and walked to the door. "I’ll give you a call when my schedule clears, son."
Jerod began to smile, but stopped, and simply gave Moore and appreciative nod.

Chapter 4

2005-07-03T21:34:00.000-07:00

It was much later in the day, around five pm, and Rick was on the floor of his living room, piecing together a set of lego blocks into what vaguely- very vaguely, resembled the intersection where Ram met the Ultimate man. Sitting across from Rick on the floor was a healthy looking young man with a sloppy hair cut and rather thick glasses. The young man looked down at this set skeptically.
"Okay, Rod- pretend this is the Bronson Building here," Rick told him. Rick picked up a space man lego figure he’d given a plastic cape. "Now, Ultimate flew across the front windows of the building, when-" Rick demonstrated by throwing the small figure against the flimsy looking structure. "He’s hit by some invisible force."
Rod looked down at the now broken figurine, "So Ultimate hit a building and snapped in half?"
Rick gave him a stern look before continuing. "Okay, so this what we’ve got- an unseen hostile hit one of the most powerful men on earth with an unseen projectile and actually did him harm." Rick held up his forefinger. "But! Despite doing this- they don’t press their attack. Ultimate is able to call for his support people, and they take him away safely." Rick shrugged his shoulder, more to get his point across. "So what was the point? What was gained here?"
Rod blinked, genuinely taken aback. "You’re asking ME?"
Rick pushed the legos buildings aside and leaned forward. "Look Rod, what did I tell you the day I had you impersonate me as the Ram? You’re a part of this, now. And I need your help with this one."
"Oh, well, that’s cool I guess-" Rod rubbed the back of his neck and grinned nervously. "It’s just, you know, we haven’t really hung out in a month or so, I just figured you were giving me the brush off."
"I’ve been... busy is all." Rick answered uneasily.
OKAY, SO MAYBE I WAS HOPING FOR AWHILE HE’D JUST FORGET ABOUT EVERYTHING
"The thing is, Rod... I don’t know much of anything about superheroes. I’m not really in their world," Rick reached down and pieced the Ultimate man lego figure back together. "You seem to be something of a fanatic, someone who may understand how things work with them better than I do."
"Well..." Rod looked down, thoughtfully. "If it wasn’t obvious WHO attacked Ultimate, and you didn’t see the source of the attack... I don’t think it’d be a supervillain. I mean, a supracriminal." Rod corrected himself. "People like Dr Dimensia, or The Human Meteor, they want credit for the havoc they wreak. This was somebody who wanted to stay anonymous."
"But then why?" Rick asked, waving his free hand a bit. "Was their intent really to hurt Ultimate, kill him even, and they failed in that?"
"Okay," a familiar voice called out from the kitchen, both Rick and Rod looked over to see Jamie lazily leaning in the archway, holding a soda. "What in the hell is this?"
"We’re conferencing," Rod said with all the confidence he could muster.
Jamie looked down at the colorful, plastic block assortment. "Where?" he asked. "Legoland?"
Jamie sat himself down on the couch, throwing down a bit of the soda he held. "Don’t take it the wrong way, Rod, but make tracks for awhile. Ma and I need to talk."
"All right, cool," Rod put his hands in his pockets and shuffled off in a bit of a defeated manner.
Rick looked over at Jamie with a great deal of irritation. "Jamie, Rod and I were discussing something very serious."
"Oh yeah, cause- you know, it LOOKS serious." Jamie remarked, swinging his right leg out and kicking over the lego set.
"That wasn’t necessary," Rick remarked.
"Necessary nothing, man," Jamie put his elbows on his knees and looked at Rick intently. "What in the hell are you doing?"
"What am I doing? I’m looking into a potentially volatile situation- what happened today-"
"Ariel dumped you, man," Jamie told him flatly. "You know who I heard that from? The guy who borrowed my History notes three weeks ago and finally returned them today. Apparently, you were too busy creating a diorama from toys you haven’t played with in eight years to fill me in on that."
Rick looked down at the floor, his face becoming blank. "I... it... this came up, and-"
"And maybe you were really damn eager to bury yourself in something "The Ram" COULD deal with instead of something Rick Maine COULDN’T," Jamie told him without blinking.
Rick stared forward, and they were both silent for a very long stretch of time. Jamie then slowly stood up and set his soda can on the coffee table. He reached down and pulled Rick to his feet. "Come on, man. I know a place that doesn’t card people- let’s get some beers."
"Yeah," Rick said, suddenly feeling a lot less involved in the most recent event of the day. "Right now, I think I’d like that."

Chapter 3

2005-06-26T18:26:00.000-07:00

Rick walked soberly back to his home, his head and shoulders slumping forward, his eyes cast to the stoney pavement.
SO THAT’S IT
FOUR MONTHS
AND ITS OVER
Rick kept walking forward, not entirely aware of where he was going. In a matter of minutes, he was downtown, shuffling past the strings of cafes and bistros. As people passed him, his shoulders collided with theirs, but he took no notice of it.
COULD I HAVE FIXED THIS?
WOULD I HAVE BEEN ABLE TO?
There was a soft murmuring around him, and Rick felt himself being drawn out of his self-involvement. He began to glance around himself and found the gaggle of people walking the streets beginning to cluster around him. All of them had their heads craned upwards, several pointing to the east. Rick looked up as well and saw a dark silhouette of a cape wearing man gliding in front of the tall buildings of the business district of the city.
Rick’s facial expression went from morose to bemused, immediately recognizing the sight before them all.
THE ULTIMATE MAN, OF COURSE
HE DOESN’T FLY OVER OUR CITY AS MUCH AS HE USED TO, SO PEOPLE AREN’T AS JADED ABOUT SEEING HIM AS THEY USED TO BE
Rick was about to turn and walk away when the air suddenly rippled around the Ultimate Man, causing him to tumble in mid-air. Several people in the crowd gasped as he dived downward, colliding into the plate glass of an office building before nose diving into the pavement below.
Instinct took of Rick by the stomach and he found himself pushing the people crowded around him aside with his one free arm. "Come on people, either get out of my way or walk faster!"
Clear of the group of rubber necks, Rick began to run before a stabbing pain erupted in his shoulder.
OKAY, MAYBE I’LL JUST STUMBLE SLOWLY TOWARD THE SCENE
Unexpectedly, a man pulled out the Gadgets Depot across the street from Rick aboard one of the elaborate, gyroscopic scooters that had made the news briefly several years ago. Rick blinked, hesitated a moment, then shuffled across the street. "Sorry," Rick told the man shoving him off of the scooter with his elbow and jumping onto the scooter himself, propelling himself forward at a brisk speed.
"HEY! YOU LITTLE RAT-BASTARD!" The man shouted, running after Rick furiously. Rick looked back briefly and turned the accelerator as high as it would go. That was, as Rick would reflect later, just slightly faster than a small child could run.
Just the same, in under a minute Rick was at the intersection the Ultimate Man had fallen upon. A large crowd of people were already surrounding the slumped, costumed man’s unmoving form upon the shattered pavement. Rick slid off the scooter and began pushing the concerned yet frightened people aside. "MOVE! COME ON PEOPLE! I KNOW CPR!"
Rick struggled his way through, finding the Ultimate Man was struggling to stand, with no success. "Ultimate..." Rick breathed, now was uncertain as everyone around him to approach this iconic figure, now seeming so weak in contrast to his impressive build and stature. He shook the feeling off and bent downward, gingerly taking the Ultimate Man by the shoulders. "Can you hear me? Are you able to stand on your own?"
"I..." the deep, yet bellowing voice cracked out from behind the Ultimate Man’s mask. "I don’t know. What happened to me?"
"Something hit you- I- I didn’t really see," Rick told him, trying in vain to lift him up.
GOOD GOD, HOW MUCH DOES HE WEIGH?
"My wrist-" Ultimate began to say.
"What’s wrong?"
"Hold my wrist up to my face, There’s a receiver tucked inside my glove." he explained. Rick didn’t entirely understand the request, but took hold of Ultimate’s bronze gauntlet, lifting his forearm upward to his mouth.
"Marcus, I need an emergency pick-up at the intersection of 5th and 7th. I think I may be injured." Ultimate said as clearly as he could muster.
Ultimate craned his head weakly toward Rick, his blank eyes staring intently at him. "I... know you, don’t I?"
Rick shook momentarily with surprise. "Yes- we met briefly, a month ago- The Atlas incident."
The Ultimate man paused, then looked away from him. "Yes, that must be it."
Over head, the tell-tale rumbling of a helicopter could be heard, the blades of the vehicle whipping the wind. "That would be my ride," Ultimate commented.
"Your- that was LESS THAN TEN SECONDS." Rick gaped at the helicopter as it landed within the street itself.
"Yes- well... it follows me within 3 miles," Ultimate said glibly as a pair of blue uniformed men sprang from the helicopter. Ultimate reached under his belt buckle and pulled out what appeared to small, embossed card. "Here, take this- it’s a 2-way communication device."
"So it’s a phone?" Rick asked.
Ultimate gave him another look as the uniformed men took both his arms and hefted him up. "Yes, something like that. I’ll be in touch." He said nothing more as the men took him to helicopter.
As the ariel vehicle lifted off, Rick looked down at the card, then glanced about.
SO, WHAT ELSE IS GOING TO HAPPEN TODAY?

Chapter Two

2005-06-19T22:02:00.000-07:00

Rick walked down the college campus street, his shoulders slumped and his head bent forward as the icy winter winds cut through his furred face.
I KNEW SHE’D CALL SOONER OR LATER
HONESTLY, SHE WAITED LONGER TO GET THIS OVER WITH THAN I’D FIGURED
Rick looked upward, glancing down the black paved street, seeing where it led off to a small, wooden bridge built over a slow running creek. Standing upon the bridge was a solitary figure, a slender girl with the visage of a white mouse, her raven black hair wafting in the cold wind, her cold blue eyes cast downward. Rick felt his feet become heavy, and his shoulders heavier still. His heart ached to see her there, and for a brief moment, he wanted to walk away.
AT THIS MOMENT, I’D RATHER NEVER SEE HER AGAIN THAN HAVE TO GO THROUGH WITH THIS
BUT THEN I’D BE AN EVEN GREATER FOOL
Slowly, Rick began to move forward again, walking onto the bridge. The girl felt the vibrations of his foot steps through the wood beneath her soles, turning tensely to face him.
"Hi, Ariel," Rick said, his mouth feeling very dry.
"Rick," Ariel greeted in an almost emotionless tone, here eyes still cast downward.
For nearly a minute, they both stood there, unmoving and silent.
THERE ISN’T ANYTHING LEFT TO SAY
Rick swallowed the dry gunk in his mouth down his throat, looking to Ariel.
BESIDES THE OBVIOUS
"Ariel, I’m sorry," Rick told her, the words burning as they escaped his throat. "You have every right to hate me for this. I wish I could have told you, but I didn’t know if I could-" Rick stopped himself, realizing what he almost said to her.
"If you could trust me?" Ariel asked coldly, still not looking at him. Rick found his own eyes casting downward, shamed.
"I did trust you, Ariel," Rick told her, finding the words he wanted to say become increasingly more difficult to express. "It wasn’t about trust. I was just... afraid. Afraid of what you’d think of me."
"What I’d think?" Ariel’s voice cracked as she raised her gaze to him, her face looking pained. "I’d think you were out of your mind. I’d think- that you need professional help." Ariel began to shake her head sadly. "Most of all, I’d think of you as one of the last people I’d ever want to be around."
Rick looked visibly pained, holding out a hand toward her. "Ariel..."
"I knew you were lying to me, Rick," Ariel continued, stepping away from him. "But... THIS. THIS?! Rick, this is beyond a LIE!" Ariel looked at him emphatically. "You’ve been living a double life! A life-" Ariel turned and supported herself on the railing of the bridge. "God, I don’t even know what kind of a life it is!"
Rick paused, then looked back up at her. "You’re not wrong. I kept a very big part of my life from you. And I more than understand if it scares you... it scares me more than you’d believe. But the only thing through all of the criminals and monsters I’ve faced that’s kept me grounded in the real world... is you. YOU are the only happiness I have, Ariel. You’re the reason I even BOTHER getting out of bed... you’ve made me happy in ways I didn’t know I could be."
Rick stepped closer to her, uneasily placing his free hand on her tense shoulder. "You were my first, Ariel. That means something to me...despite everything, doesn’t it mean something to you, too?"
Ariel bit her lip, her eyes beginning to water. "Of course it does. I’d be lying if I said you didn’t make me happy too, Rick.. If our nights together weren’t... the most wonderful of my life." Ariel’s head tilted down, the tears rolling down her lily-white fur. "But what you’re doing, Rick... being a vigilante... becoming the law... I can’t tolerate that. No matter what I feel."
Ariel looked back up at him, the sorrow in her face almost hurting him to see. "You know I want to become a police officer. You know who my father is- the law MEANS something to me, it has my entire life. What you’re doing- I can’t be WITH you, and tolerate that. I’d be... such a hypocrite... don’t you understand?"
Ariel stepped closer to him, her eyes yearning to see something in his. "I want to be with you so much, Rick. But not with this between us. Not with you... being who and what you are."
Rick looked away, trying to center his vision on the horizon beyond the city. "Ariel... please... don’t do this. Don’t make me choose. I can’t choose between you..." his voice became a hoarse whisper. "...and what I am."
Ariel wrapped her arms around his left arm, hugging herself to him and resting her head on his shoulder, small sobs interrupting her speech. "Then I’m the one who has to make the choice."
Rick leaned his face towards hers, almost desperately breathing in her scent, always sweet to his senses. "I’ll never tell anyone your secret, Rick. I can do that much for you." She slid her arms free of his, stepping backwards away from him. "But you and I... we’re done."
Before Rick was aware of it, Ariel was already gone, walking down the street of the campus, furiously wiping the tears from her eyes. Rick’s vision blurred as he stood stiffly upon the bridge, feeling paralyzed.
I LOVE HER
I LOVE HER, AND I NEVER SAID IT
I MAY NEVER GET TO
Rick turned his attention back to the horizon, the icy winds almost burning into his teary eyes.
I COULDN’T LET HER GO... AND I CAN’T CHANGE WHO I AM
IT REALLY WASN’T MY CHOICE TO MAKE, WAS IT?

Chapter One:

2005-06-12T12:07:00.000-07:00

Chapter One:
It was a brisk winter’s day, the sky was clear of clouds, the sun was bright, and the ground crisp with frost alone. For the students of Demont City University, there couldn’t be a better day to begin their winter break.
Save for one, who was nursing a very deep, rather infected bullet wound.
Rick Maine tenderly sat up from his bed, his right arm throbbing. He rubbed his left arm across his short fur covered forehead, grumbling with a long felt annoyance.
I HAVEN’T SLEPT WITHOUT PILLS IN A WEEK Rick thought to himself, gingerly swinging his legs off of his bed and onto the floor. THE PAINKILLERS JUST AREN’T HELPING ENOUGH, AND THE ANTIBIOTICS ARE LIKE SWALLOWING STONES
Rick walked slowly out of his room as he fitted his right arm back into the sling the hospital had lent him. IT WAS ALMOST FORTUNATE THE BULLET THAT POLICE OFFICER SHOT ME WITH PASSED THROUGH MY SHOULDER- IT MADE MY EXCUSE THAT I’D BEEN HIT WITH A STRAY BULLET BELIEVABLE
Rick stepped into the bathroom and downed a capful of mouthwash, reflecting on his sleep deprived visage thoughtfully. ALMOST A LITTLE DEPRESSING THAT AN EXCUSE LIKE THAT COULD FLY SO EASILY IN THE INNER CITY
Rick spat out the mouthwash into the sink and proceeded to open the pill containers on the sink, grimacing at the size of the pink pills before snapping them in half and downing them with a glass of tepid water. DISGUSTING IN BOTH TASTE AND TEXTURE- I GUESS THAT’S HOW YOU KNOW THEY’LL WORK
Rick left the bathroom and tapped the door to the guest room across the hallway, gingerly laying his pointed left ear against the white painted wood. "Jack..." he spoke in a fairly loud, but soft voice. "Do you feel like coming downstairs for some breakfast today? Just breakfast. You can come back upstairs when you’re done."
There was a long silent pause before Rick heard a bit of shuffling behind the door. "No thanks, Rick." Jack’s voice called out, groggily. "Just bring me up some pop-tarts, I’ll be fine."
Rick was hesitant to leave, but did so just the same, walking down the stairs and into his living room. IF ANYONE WOULD WIN THE HORRIBLE BURDEN CONTEST IN THIS HOUSE, IT’S JACK, RIGHT NOW.
Rick passed through the living room and found Jamie, his house-mate and best friend, sitting at the kitchen table and eating the cold chicken left over from the other night. Jamie’s dog-like visage would lead one to believe he was as simple minded as the canine’s he resembled, but Rick had long ago come to realize his fellow animutate was much smarter, and far more troubled, than he let on.
"Jack’s still not leaving upstairs, is he?" Jamie asked, chucking a cleaned chicken bone across the room, into the waste can.
"Not as far as I can tell," Rick told him, slowly easily himself into the chair across the table from Jamie. "I don’t think we should we pressure him anymore, either. Given his- condition."
Jamie looked down with a bit of disgust at the unpleasant looking chicken wing at the bottom of the bucket, but began to gnaw at it just the same. "Yeah, I gotta admit, the side-effect of my sound powers as been no picnic, but Jack got the rawest end of the deal, not bein’ able to turn off his antigravity powers, no doubt there."
Rick frowned, taking the last drumstick from the bucket. "Jamie, do you think given the fact that I’ve been a costumed vigilante for half a year, and that you’ve gotten suprahuman powers, is starting to make us talk like- well... comic book characters?"
Jamie looked thoughtful, then continued to eat the chicken. "Well, what doya want, man? Our lives are fucking WEIRD."
Rick cocked his head to the side, then shrugged and begin to eat as well. "Yes. Yes, they are."
Jamie looked uncomfortable for a moment, of which Rick took notice. "What is it, Jamie?" he asked, a bit unwary.
Jamie put his chicken down, wiping his mouth off and looking uncomfortable. "Well- you got a phone call last night... it was Ariel."
Rick put down his own chicken and sat up straight in the chair, Jamie having his full attention. "And?"
Jamie held his hands out, looking a bit unsure of how to express himself. "She said she’ll be at the Alumni’s bridge, at the college campus today, around noon. Assuming you’re up to seeing her- she wants to talk."
"Talk?" Rick asked him "Or... talk."
Jamie gave Rick a sympathetic look, before repeating. "Talk."
Rick slumped back into his seat, touching his chin with his free left hand. "Terrific."

Prologue

2005-06-04T20:37:00.000-07:00

Tales of the Ram

Book One: Chimera’s Curse

Prologue:

In an alleyway between two run down buildings a young girl warmed her chilled hands over a fire of newspapers burning in as waste bin. Winter weather was always bitter cold in Demont City, the winds coming in from the ocean being to blame. The girl’s coat was more suited for fall season, and did little warm her. She rubbed her arms furiously with her bare hands and looked over at her brother, standing on the other side of the waste bin and looking as miserable as she was.
"Nuh-not quite a Texas Christmas, eh Muh-Maria?" The boy said with a weakened smile, his sister only rolled her eyes and rubbed her arms more furiously.
"You need to stop talking about Christmas as if we’re going to have one," she snapped, looking down at the fire, her brow furled beneath her wool cap strands of her long, black hair falling in front of her eyes.
"Don’t be like that, Maria," the boy half plead. "I know this isn’t what we expected to happen when we ran away from the group home, but-"
"What we expected was to find our dad and live a normal fucking life!" she shouted, causing him to jump a little. "But Mom never bothered to tell us he came here to sell drugs and got busted for it!"
"She didn’t know..." The boy responded in almost a whisper, looking down at his feet.
"Like hell she didn’t, she just didn’t want US to know..." Maria folded her arms and looked away.
A black sedan pulled up at the end of the alley, Maria looked over at it and bristled. "God, it’s him again. Let’s go."
"But he might have food," The boy reasoned. "And it’s gotten impossible to get into the soup kitchens, since the holidays started..."
"Diego..." Maria growled as a tall, lanky man in a black coat, wearing thick, round rimmed glasses stepped out of the vehicle.
"Maria, Diego..." the man called out to them as he stepped slowly toward them, hefting a thin cane in his left hand. "Aren’t you tired of living like this, yet?"
"We’re living just FINE, thank you..." Maria said, gritting her teeth and trying not to look in the man’s direction.
"My offer still stands, you know," the man told her, pulling his gloves further up his wrists. "My employer can offer you a warm bed, three squares a day, money- all for doing nothing but taking a few, harmless medications. Is your pride worth so much more than that?"
"It’s worth more than being a lab rat!" Maria snapped. "If you don’t make tracks now, I’ll-"
"You’ll what?" The man asked her, tapping his cane against the cold cement. "Scream? Who would hear you here in Shinbone who would bother to help?"
"Maybe... we should at least LISTEN, Maria," Diego reasoned.
"I suppose I should come to accept your sister will NEVER listen, Diego," the man told him as he turned back to his vehicle. "She’d rather take her chances out here, on the streets."
"You’re damn right I would," Maria remarked, clapping her hands over the fire.
"Yes, you have such a bright future ahead of you," he spoke as he walked slowly toward the car. "Maria, you have no doubt been approached by the, shall we say, "escort services?" Yes, the money a girl your age would make for them is shamefully large."
Maria’s face turned somber as Diego looked aghast. "Of course, no doubt a number of men have already tried to take what they can of you for free, a pretty girl like you amongst men of the street." The man continued, his cane tapping as he walked. "But I’m sure your twin brother will protect you just fine, a strapping lad like him, a boy of ten facing throngs of grown men."
"Yes, you’ll do just fine," he said, opening the door to his car and sitting inside. "Of course, if you ever change your mind..." his voice trailed off, the passenger side door slowly opening.
Maria and Diego gave each other defeated looks, the man’s words stinging in their minds. Neither said anything as they walked slowly to the black vehicle, the ocean winds blowing cold and sharp against their skin.

Setting the Stage

2005-06-04T16:49:00.000-07:00

Anyone who happens across this blog may not understand what I'm doing with it. "Tales of the Ram" is a continuation of a web comic I used to do for Modern Tales imprint Graphic Smash. I had to stop drawing Saga of the Ram, but wanted to continue the story for the readers who express disappointment to see the comic end as abruptly as it did. "Tales of the Ram" picks up where Saga of the Ram left off- for the most part. The stories are within the same continuity as the comic. A new chapter will be posted once week.

For those new to things, a link to the comic itself
http://www.graphicsmash.com/series.php?name=ram&view=current