Lilia
Sithly Elf
Posts: 36
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Post by Lilia on Oct 20, 2004 2:04:13 GMT -5
**Any attempts to plagiarize and she comes after you, partner.
© 2004 Blanca
Colorado Kid
Denver..nighttime, 2004.
Colorado is an exquisite beauty, to be certain....but for every yin there is a yang, and Colorado is no exception. In the black crevices of tonight's particular venue, Denver, where darkness crawls....there is also light...
A cat sings dirges..dirges designed so rightfully to shatter a human heart like glass, custom-made to turn it into finely-ground powder consistency. Darkness is committing an abominable deed...abominable and perverse.
Darkness is torturing the cat, simply beating it, cutting it, slowly and methodically burning it with a gasoline lighter. Darkness, with a perverse background, a soiled tapestry, soiled by upbringing, soiled by circumstace, soiled by domino effects, darkness which knows no else, darkness which has been taught to despise light. Darkness' victim is, alas, its seventh. Seventh, truly much too many victims. Seventh in two months.
Suddenly, light is right behind the darkness.
"Hi, there. You and the cat tryin' to go into show business?"
"Don't come near me! I'll burn your face!"
"Cat's singin' a lovely tune. Mind if I join in the chorus?"
The darkness pulled a cleaver. "I know what you want to do! Don't even think about it! I don't want you cuttin' in on my affairs! Stay away from me if you don't wanna friggin' bleed to death !"
The darkness charges after the light.
The light steps aside as the darkness is about to crash into a wall.
The darkness tags along after the light, the light slips out a golden whip. The whip snaps the cleaver out of the darkness' hand.
The darkness attempts to punch the light.
Yet, the only punches and kicks the light delivers are in self-defense.
Not to say that every attempt succeeds, the light endures punches and kicks as well, from darkness with sledgehammers for fists and mighty sycamore trees for kicking legs.
Darkness attempts to hit the light in the most vital spots, on the sides of her torso, barely protected by her blue bustier top, her ribcage beneath her white vest, her center of gravity beneath her platinum belt buckle, adorned with a star like a the North Star in pure gold. The dark picks up the cleaver once again and begins to swing. The woman's jugulars are missed, her torso has a few bloody cuts Her frame isn't quite suitable for the likes of Cosmopolitan, nor is it for the likes of WWF magazine.
She is nevertheless superpowered.
She is a mysterious guardian angel, a superpowered superheroine. The citizens of Denver cannot understand how she got her mysterious powers, she never really does say to the media or the papers, to avoid rumors and story twists. So many souls are bound and determined to find out, if it takes them forever and beyond.
She leaps atop the alley rubble, soaring up each stair of the stairwell, amazingly, as light as if she were a feather, being bounced along the way by the Colorado breeze. Amazing, the darkness thinks, how in the world can a woman do that? A few kicks to the stomach knock the wind out of the light and will leave bruises, but nothing she can't get over. The cat cowers, an unwilling helpless witness...
The light slips up into stance once more..her temples get hit by fists of lead..her will urges her to be reasonably sturdy..She hides atop the dark skulking about below, the night is her friend as she bounds from building to building.
"Where are you? Where are you, you little I am an idiot?!"
A lasso from far above, pure gold, slips over the darkness' wrists.
The darkness is strung up on another stairwell.
Finally the police arrive, as the darkness is mysteriously lowered down to their sights, gradually, just in record time for the lasso to be replaced with handcuffs. The animal control and Denver Dumb Friends' League Animal Shelter is the cat's salvation at last....the darkness, in all his shoddy glory, is now in the hands of the light for whatever line time grants him. Edward Gothsweer was taken into custody, much to the relief of the citizens of Aurora and Denver, whose pets had been tortured, bringing tears to the loving owner's eyes so warm and rich, pain so unbearable. "Finally", the chief rejoiced, "we've got that godforsaken cat torturer." "Humans. Their cruelty just doesn't end sometimes...why can't the blackness inside them just be curbed by all that's virtuous somehow? You know, not by any sort of virtuous human, but by the barest raw elements of virtue themselves somehow?" asked a lieutenant.
"There's no need to worry at the moment." The chief said. "Denver is free once again, thanks to The Colorado Kid."
"Yeeeeeeeeeee-oooooooo!" a voice choruses at the mention of her name.
It is the light. She is the light.
A figure bolts away from rooftop to rooftop in the night on her horse, beloved Golden Heart, also mysteriously superpowered, full of secrets yet to be revealed..into the night with the same light-as-a-feathr agility as his rider, whinnying, his whinny illuminating the starts of the Colorado sky, echoing divinely through the night.
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Lilia
Sithly Elf
Posts: 36
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Post by Lilia on Oct 20, 2004 2:05:12 GMT -5
Colorado begins to illuminate the next morning with vibrance never seen anywhere else in the world. Communities filled with neighbors and smiles and everywhere everything sings with vigor, everywhere one turns, a Mile High Chorus of fantastic flavor. Somewhere on the outskirts of exquisite Boulder lies a humble, quiet home. A home as aesthetic as Switzerland, yet not swanky or scabby. A home as humble as Wyoming, as country as Tim Mc Graw, yet as lovely as a columbine and as gentle as a guitar playing a love ballad by the hands of the most tenderhearted.
This is the home of Christine Laramie. Though no huge ranch, it is hard to get to for a special reason that KMGH, in particular, is determined to discover...
Christine Laramie lies in a log cabin style bedroom, beneath a patchwork quilt and lovely linen...sleeping, dreaming about her past...a mysterious, elusive, curious past...fragments of a past left behind...
She rides her stallion down the Colorado prairie...past sage brush and desert bloom, the thrill in her blood as bracing as the Colorado air before her. A mighty locomotive whistle is heard in the distance..
An image of cases, barrels...barrels of toxic, tainted brandy...
Barrels delivered to her town in Colorado....for a blackness to be committed...
The front of a locomotive.
A godawful collision is heard, the whinny of a frightened horse.
Christine's body along with that of her stallion, is buried beneath the Colorado prairie..
She's dead. Somehow she knew it would happen...
Or is she?
The essence is dripping...into..her...mouth...
She woke up with a gasp.
Meanwhile, a SUV, all black and relentless, is speeding with fervor down the mysterious, curious, winding road that leads to her home, inside is an informer, an informer not for law enforcement, but for hungry KMGH TV, an anonymous tipper on why Christine lives as far as she does.. KMGH did not assign this fellow, but he's willing to get plenty of dough out of it, lots of dough, lots of dough for reasons black, reasons concealed by his soul, reasons he'll never tell.
No one knows about the woman's background except the mayor.
The mayor, when it comes to the media, simply disappears at any attempt at inquiry.
Christine shook her head, trying to get free of the chilling fragments of her past that gripped her.
She decided to look out her window at 2004.
2004...so long...such a long time up to 2004..Colorado's been around this long? Boy, Boulder just up and done exploded into a humungous old sucker...just only yesterday it was as tiny as a flea. Nowadays it's all stone and white-painted wood, brick and lotsa flowers and birds and things. Used to be nothing but wood and nails and bloodshed last time I looked...
Packed to the brim with dust and leather and chaps and saloons....bandits...bank robberies...Stetsons...showgirls..now look at this place. So alive...golly, houses, nothing but houses and fences and yards everywhere you turn....not a lone ranch or a single horse or a cowboy or proprietor in sight. No gold miners headed out nowhere....no prairie folk, Jesse ain't lurkin' about anymore...heck, he's long since dead...Bill Cody..he'd have a stroke if he saw Boulder now.
These houses...they ain't exactly sod..never seen a house so small, so clean, so many of these families with 3 or 4 kids....them good ol' days, barely any families around...houses were pretty much scattered, I reckon....the olden days, when the saloon illuminated with piano, the can can girls..dusty..stagecoaches..boy, the stagecoaches have gotten so much sleeker nowadays, golly, they don't need any horses anymore. Cowboys still hang about, but boy, they sure don't have much of a burden anymore..no fightin' no cussin' no gunslingin' no worries about land or snatchin' or bandits...bandits come in all forms nowadays..amazin' what brandy can do to a person..my eyes once saw Arapahoe, Ute, Sioux, ranchers and farmhands, cowboys..now it sees so many things, magic, thrills for a cowgirl's eye..things I ain't never dreamed I'd see.
These fragmented thoughts flow from her mind..one could think, initially, the woman was completely crazy. Talking as if she were from 1875.
But that's just it.
She was.
How she physically survived so long into 2004, or managed to stay so young, looking as if she were no more than 21, no one can say...
Yet.
But the mysterious pursuer is just about to, until...
That mysterious ringer calls her again. She is utterly fascinated as to how the thing works...the loud, funny-looking thing rings and rings because another person from far away presses a few buttons...they want help, whoever it is. The loud ring makes her run, and someone sends her a message, and the sound travels down a line to her ear...it was magic to Christine...sheer unexplained, phenomenal magic....
"Hello?"
"Christine, it's the mayor. You've got to come back to Denver. There's mayhem going on and you're the only one who can keep the peace."
"What about the cops?"
"That's just it. This one can emanate ether from its pores. Anything with a badge in the city, not one awake, they've all been knocked out by his gas, and he's about to commit a mass genocide! You've got to grab your stallion and get down here!"
"Much obliged sir. The Kid's comin'."
"Bless you, ma'am."
She hung up the phone.
She took out a golden star from her pocket, what appeared to be a sheriff's badge.
She emanated her battle cry. "Yeeeeeee-ooo!"
The battle cry echoed throughout the entire house, the cedar beams vibrated almost with spine-tingling joy, the rafters rung with almost heart pounding anticipation. A heavenly light suddenly enfolded Christine.
She was clad, by some unexplained supernatural phenomena, from head to toe, in a white Stetson, blue bustier top, flexible, yet armor, white vest with blue stars, blue jeans, white chaps, gold whip, gold lariat, gold boots, white gauntlets, white pistol and holster..she was a phenomena herself, an ethereal figure in her regalia.
She was the Colorado Kid.
She slipped through a secret vacuum tube precariously installed in her kitchen. It led to her stables.
She whistled for her beloved stallion. The light suddenly enfolded him. He whinnied with anticipation..as long as she pinned the badge to her chest..somehow, when she whistled for him, he became the world's most powerful, phenomenal horse. He had impeccable powers, the power of bounding through the air lighter than a feather, often never touching the ground once when he bolted through the prairie or plains, or anywhere at all. Skyscraper to skyscraper, mountain to mountain, he could do it all. He had a powerful, super powered kick in him, no criminal could withstand his horseshoes in their face. He could trample a tank, bust down a door, break through any barricade.
He was Golden Heart. His bridle and saddle were as flexible as flesh, but gold as his heart indeed. His reins awaited...
She took a flying leap, sharing the same flight powers as he. She hopped effortlessly over the heads of her other stallions, treading and thrashing pure air into a thick froth, not touching their heads once with her boots as she soars over each stable to Golden Heart's own suite.
In the saddle at last, the Colorado mountain air is pierced with a "YAH!" that echoes throughout the land.
The SUV, in the meantime is eager..eager to reach the house, eager to know whether or not this magnificent dance truly did happen, could happen, and if so, how on earth could this happen? How could this Christine, her name unknown to the driver, obtain these powers, control them at her will, have a stallion with superpowers?
A mysterious teenager told him she lived here and that he'd seen her in the midst of her transformation sequence, when she and Golden Heart prepare for whatever vigilant task they needed to execute...but no one had believed him. He'd seen her go through the entire thing. He didn't know how the badge could give her a uniform, light-as-a-feather levitation, her super- strength, her weapons, her remarkable rodeo skills used to apprehend criminals, rodeo skills that would make the finest rodeo champion blush. No one did...
Unfortunately at the moment, Denver and Colorado will not. For the minute the SUV reaches the house, Christine Laramie, the Colorado Kid, is gone.
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Lilia
Sithly Elf
Posts: 36
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Post by Lilia on Oct 20, 2004 2:08:02 GMT -5
The Sleeper Hold.
That's what the media called him.
The Sleeper Hold.
He could emanate ether from his pores. She'd have to be as careful as possible, thank goodness for her blue bandanna.
The hulking fellow looked like Arnold Schwarzenegger Terminator-style, painted grey-blue in a matching Speedo. He was colored with ether mixed with his inner blood. No one quite knew the reason, but The Colorado Kid was determined to find out.
He was clinging on to the top of a skyscraper, holding in one hand with his own super strength, a colossal net he had weaved himself out of several telephone wires he had plucked throughout miles and miles of Kansas, who was in the midst of singing praises about a mass downing of telephone lines throughout the state. The net was full of each and every cop in the city of Denver, not one missing. They had all been put to sleep with his ether. His mission, to drown them all in a river, a rapid in Boulder. He could fly, for reasons yet to be seen...KCNC's reporter Mary Beth Reilly described all this with bafflement in her voice and sweat running down her face. He could fly at a blinding velocity, much like a space shuttle, but somehow could withstand not having his flesh tear off, withstanding blackouts.
"The Colorado Kid, we've just received word, is arriving at breakneck speed from Boulder on her super-powered horse, Golden Heart. But is she strong enough to withstand the Sleeper Hold?"
A whinny came from the distance. The crowd, whom the National Guard was sent in to control, rejoiced at the arrival of Golden Heart, who came none too soon. The mayor was sent out to greet her..
"Thank God! We've got the Sleeper Hold."
"What's he wanting?"
"We don't know. We don't know why he's on this rampage. An anonymous tipper told us he heard about The Sleeper Hold's plan when accidentally coming across his hideout in the sewer. This happened after they were all taken in, these cops, with his ether and all. He plans to drown them all somewhere in Boulder's rapids."
"Well, it seems I'll need to head up there and have a little chitchat with the man."
The man's real name was Norton Ramis. He was a fifty year old professor in the University of Boulder. He taught Chemistry, his teachings won him honor and valor. He was also known to sexually harass. Rumor had it since he started working there at age 28 that he was known to seduce and sexually molest anything female in his classroom.
Alas, the rumors were true.
One day, he tried to seduce a woman, Martina Pavlov, a Russian exchange student and a straight-A student in his classroom. He had talked to her after class several times, with subtle hints of sexual requests in his conversation...the conversations always took place in his home after he chauffeured them there in his car. He offered what he always had offered any of his victims in exchange for sexual acts that would make Larry Flynt gasp. Any initial refusal he simply granted, but not for long. A second try and a third try, a fourth try.. He was determined to find a way to get whatever sexual pleasure he craved.
As always with the second, third and fourth try, as it was with him, a usual thing as was with all the female students he had seduced and molested, the offers had evolved into threats, threats to deliberately give poor grades no matter how hard Martina worked on certain things, most especially term papers, important tests or final exams...the threats ran deeper if she told on him for harassing her in the first place, or any victim, threats to fail her on the final exam no matter how hard she worked.
Female students had always given in without a word to authorities until Martina came along. She still refused to give in. She threatened, without telling him, to tell the president of the university. One of his friends had witnessed her talking to the president. He had told him the same day, and he vowed vengeance on her that night. He had lost his patience. He saw to it upon dismissal that the door was locked from the outside by his friend-a calculus professor who he'd given the classroom key to-so Martina could not escape. Without a word, he sexually assaulted her, wanting to wholeheartedly rape her. She defended herself as best she could, backing off, not letting him physically get close.
The only obstacles at hand were chemicals. On impulse, she threw them all in his path, a wide range of chemicals, virtually all chemicals that could be found on any chemical chart of any science class that were liquid....Chlorine, Sulfur, and also Ether along with the rest...they had absorbed into his skin when mixed together, including the ether, which knocked him out. The chemicals had also made his skin blue by genetic distortion, the chemicals had twisted his DNA completely. His genetic distortion resulted in super strength, super flight, imperviousness to pain (the chemicals deadening his nerves when mixed), immediate power to heal all wounds at will, ability to emanate all liquid chemicals through his pores that could be found on that notorious chemical chart, ether along with them..and mix them at his will as they came out.
He had been found on the night Martina defended herself and had been taken to prison by means of court proceedings, all his sins coming back to haunt him and whatnot..where his powers grew was inside the cell. He had used his powers in a discreet manner to make a getaway, killing two jailers and several cops in the process with chlorine gas, guaranteed to turn their lungs to jelly. Chemicals in all their forms had helped him pick locks, melt bars, knock the right authorities in the prison out, destroy the security system, melt walls, and go right through barbwire without complaining despite his bleeding.
His journey led to a hideout in the sewer system no one could pinpoint as of yet, and crimes of a different nature, crimes unleashed from his dark subconscious, crimes innumerable in type. He had done his dirty work for two decades without anyone to stop him.. and she had mysteriously arrived in 2004 from what seemed to be out of nowhere.
His journey had led him on top of a Denver skyscraper. Though The Colorado Kid didn't know much about him, who cared? She was Denver's savior at last.
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Lilia
Sithly Elf
Posts: 36
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Post by Lilia on Oct 20, 2004 2:09:40 GMT -5
Christine handed over her horse, Golden Heart, to the head of the National Guard. "Do take care of him, won't you, sir?" she smiled.
"I'll guard him with my life, ma'am" he said with chivalry.
She had plenty more magic to come. She clapped her gauntlets together, and made a heavenly starburst appear..her gauntlets suddenly had a mysterious material to help her scale a skyscaper with ease. A one-two trample of each boot, left spur clanging with right resulted in her boots doing the same.
The crowd gasped with wonder as she prepared to scale the skyscraper.
She climbed up the mighty steel pillar as if it were no more than a tree. He was panting, wishing he could find a way to execute the entire Denver police force without anyone looking and gawking at him the way they did.
He looked and saw them reaching out to him, their faces displaying, unapologetically, their protest.
Let them protest! , he thought. Tonight they die, every one of them!
It was strenuous work, but she was determined...she was determined not to let any police die. It was the police inside that netting that motivated her to keep climbing despite her charley horse, despite her aching back and triceps, despite her torn-to-shreds calves, despite her ripped-to-death quadriceps. She would never let any member of any police force die. The mere thought of the possibility of their death motivated her further, especially the longing for safety of sheriff or sergeant, of captain or lieutenant, any member with a high rank..
This fueled her fervor to save them all the more, this, more than anything fueled her completely, to the point where she'd forgotten about herself completely simply to save them. Some officer in a high rank in such a situation always did. She always remembered Boulder in the long ago, 1875, when she herself had borne a star on her breast.. a gold star, the star of a sheriff..the star that had seen and destroyed hell and death and cold and cruelty, ungodliness, sin, indecency in forms innumerable...the star of her father, a star worn years before..
Nobody dies tonight, she thought. Not as long as I'm around.
The Sleeper Hold looked around and around. He didn't notice the news cameras as, hour after hour, they displayed the Colorado Kid's every climb to the entire city, a city that watched by live, front row seats, television and internet. He didn't notice the mayor's megaphonic demands. He didn't notice the police officers' every family, waiting their fate in terror and tears on ground.
He didn't notice the golden palomino on ground.
He didn't notice she was right behind him.
"Don't even think about droppin' them, Sleeper Hold."
He turned and saw her. His black as coal eyes, shining like marbles in the night as they met with her blue ones, were steady and unflinching, yet what was inside matched their color.
A low growl uttered..
He held the netting outward...
"I suppose you're going to just shoot me if I do, Colorado Kid? It makes no difference! If you pull the trigger, they'll drop!"
"I don't kill on sight."
"I suppose you'll whip out the lariat? Too much time! You wrap it around me, they'll drop!"
"I'll whip it around the bag if I have to." She smiled.
"Your whip is useless. You've announced yourself. I could set them aside and beat you to death if I liked...nah.."
Their eyes still locked..
They both waited..
A trickle of sweat dripped down her left temple..
Five minutes---to some, five centuries---passed.
"Go get 'em."
The bag began to plummet to the ground below...
She wasted no seconds in labored thought. She leaped from the top of the skyscraper, acting on pure impulse. She grabbed the bag in split seconds and as her body careened over the edge, her spurs instinctively dug deeply into the steel structure of the building, the tall steel tree she usually called such a skyscraper, causing sparks all the way down. The crowd oohhed and aahhhed in wonder and thrill and terror as they watched the strong lady sail down the skyscraper, holding herself as taut as she could, sailing safely yet swiftly to the ground like a hot knife through butter.
A thought crossed her mind..a certain thought that would never die.a thought that withstood always the test of time, even if the time spanned two millennia. A thought that would forever sing to her spirit, soften her heart, enrapture her soul.
A thought no one else knew but her..
"Jim.." The thought whispered softly and heavenly, "If only you could see me now..."
Finally she touched the bottom at last..long before she knew it, long before the thought had set her free..but only for a time.
The crowd cheered with fervor and joy as she stood with the rescued police in her hand, every one a survivor, and thankfully still asleep. She waved to the sea of cheering spirits and the mayor was permitted to come and thank her passionately again.
"Bless You, Colorado Kid! You are a saint!"
She was awash in red and blushed, trying to humbly turn away.
She laughed, "Awww, much obliged, Mister Mayor, sir."
"Why is the Sleeper Hold doing this? Why does he want to kill all the police? What does he want? Why is he doing this in the first place? Why did he kidnap all the poor police? And for goodness sake, why doesn't the damned National Guard come out and find him? I ought to notify them right now, every one!" The Colorado Kid laughed. "I think you better just let them take care of the people. Looks like they're getting' a little wild from all the sparks they saw."
All the crowd was longing to greet her, longing to meet her, longing to catch a glimpse of the Colorado Kid. She wanted to meet them, too..but there were simply too many media around, too many to distort and twist stories in order to shock folks, too many to spread rumors, too many to never get the story straight, too many to cause a chain reaction of lies and backstabbing..
The Colorado Kid looked up. No one ever did figure out why the Sleeper Hold did this, why he held them atop the skyscraper, why he dropped them below.
"I never really did have the time to ask him," she explained.
She saw him bolt through the air just as effortlessly as she had careened to the ground. "This isn't over yet, Colorado Kid!" The mayor looked just as bewildered as she.
The press broke through the National Guard, stampeding wildly towards her.
"You'd better hurry off. I know how you get embarrassed in front of all the media."
Long before the media could reach her, The Colorado Kid waved to her fans atop her horse and said "YEEEEEEEEE=OOOOOOO!" and was gone, concealed by the night once again.
She sensed that it truly wasn't over. The Sleeper Hold had something planned. And if he thought up a dark deed like this, he was sure to cook up something else along with it, he'd planned a chain reaction of events of some sort. The cop kidnapping didn't work, but with what little information she obtained, there was surely more that she had to soon figure out before he ended up following through with his plan despite his washed up kidnapping attempt.
One thing always led to another.
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