Ugh

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

Chapter 12

“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

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

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

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

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

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."