"Let the boy win his spurs."
–Edward III, King of England, Battle of Crecy 1345
Camera ready, MyDarkSide.com is live, and my suit always needs to be the most smashing thing about me. I put my helmet on and got ready, joy and adrenaline pumping throughout my body. Lights, I grab the War Pig. Camera, I already got that. Action, my favorite part!
The bank wall exploded, sirens screamed along with people, and I stepped casually over a guard covering her face. I strode in and everyone was on their knees; lovely. There was no families to worry about either so everything is on the right track.
It was strangely quiet but I didn't care, dropping the War Pig, my noob tuber, really I need the rep not the money. The tellers were pretty little things. Everyone might look prettier when they are scared out of their pants... maybe I am a tad psychotic.
"I'm here to make a withdrawal."
Classic, but that's what I felt like going for today.
The tellers complied splendidly and I needed both of them to get to the vault. I even got a old sack with the money sign on it. I was standing at the vault stalwartly, with my cloak-like cape, my helm cloaked with a ghostly skull on it, metal and mesh armor, if the grim reaper came out of DC comics and Assassin's Creed he'd be me. (... maybe I might pass for Evil Batman on roids. That's probably a better description.)
"No I refuse," one teller said without a single ounce of fear.
My paranoia kicked in, it sounded rehearsed.
I glared down at her, and tasered her with the shocks in my suit. For the annoyance the screams sufficed.
When they did I cradled their necks in my hands, and they shivered in fear and more so from my touch,
"Thanks for the cooperation."
And I smashed their heads together like in the cartoons, knocking them out. I love my little signature move. That out of the way the money sat there, looking pretty. Which aroused suspicion.
This was too easy, the cash was supposed to be in bearer boxes, but a million dollars is right in front of me. I picked up a Benjamin and lifted it up to the light.
It's real, but the blue line was darker than normal. I dug out a fold of hundreds and flipped it through my fingers and it doesn't feel right. How do I know? I swim in this stuff at home and everything today was just too classic, too easy.
I heard the clanking of weapons behind me in the hall. I should have known better. It's a trap.
I dived for cover as a stun grenade followed lately behind me. The nade wouldn't have done anything to me in my armor but they'll find a way. I tasered the cash, if it's bugged then they are looking at losing a few million in a blaze. I hit the EMP just as the SS came in like a flood.
The only light was the money going up to the air. I shot a stun grenade of my own from my right hand at the leads before they took cover. My nade, though smaller than theirs, took four of them down.
The others were coming in and I grappling hooked myself to the ceiling. Cloaked with the smoke I disappeared and they took nervous and tentative steps into my domain. The soldiers were equipped with thermal vision, and they were trying to use it. However, I have thermal cloaking and the smoke of the flames below. I was going to be alright and a dozen of them were left.
One of them cursed, not liking hide and seek. Another reported that I didn't take the bait. One wondered aloud whether or not I was a teleporter. They looked right at me with the vision, one saw me but began taking off his goggles for a better look. Batman has nothing on me as I leapt down in the midst of them.
I smashed two of their heads together and did a diving double-back kick in the faces of two aimed enemies behind me. My metal boots and slam smashed the thermals on these bo-zos. I grappled one's ankle sending him to the ground as I got up and grappled to the back corner of the ceiling. Darkness and smoke are my friends.
A few shot blindly and the guys who I kicked were groaning and the other guys weren't moving. They have ten left now. They clustered around their wounded looking at the ceiling now. Smart fools.
I shot another nade and it knocked six of them from the game. I glided down like an owl and kicked two of the four men left on the floor. I bolted for the door and was out of the room.
I hurried for a hasty departure because SS reinforcements were on the way. I escaped sixteen of them by chance but there might be a hundred Secret Service dudes in a few minutes. Shame, I was really looking forward to augmenting the cash in my vault at home.
All the 'staff' had percussion gauss rifles. These rifles could tear me apart, but the best part about the percussion kind is they shock the victim to unconsciousness. Armored personnel don't fare too well either but my EMP is still on.
If I get close enough that the EMP takes effect then their toast. I also have my tasers and one more nade. There are a dozen of them and the two guys I left in the vault. I need to get out as fast as possible.
I am going to have to sneak through them. I can't go in the ceiling with my freaking Iron Reaper suit and I can't fit in the vents. If I can find the Pig I can get out the way I came. Nevertheless, I don't have many choices.
I grappled to the ceiling to further examine the enemy. The lights were still off and my helmet had everything: thermal, night vision, lightly powered x-rays, and glare protection. (No, I can't see anything naughty with the X-ray vision.) They were still looking for me and trying to form plans.
I love ruining people's plans.
I maneuvered myself to a chandelier without the enemy noticing.They weren't stupid, they didn't let each other out of their sight. I swung the chandelier to get to a far ledge, oh this is going to be fun.
I shot my grapple at one of the baddies and was dragging her up to me. The shame was her friends didn't follow. They began rounding everyone else up.
The woman who I was dragging grabbed a wall and I was running out of time. I struggled with her holding the wall screaming for only a second. My gap was closing.
Instead of bringing her to me I brought myself to them. The Assassin's Creed got nothing on me as I landed on her back and karate chopped her neck. The first responder was right in front of me and he rose his gun to shoot.
I moved in with a drop kick, landing on my hands, (one of my signature moves), as his gun sputtered harmless sparks; a loud pop echoed from his chest cavity as he fell. Two bright balls of electricity flew past me. Three people were in front of me and a third blast was coming in.
I slid under it going right for them, loosening the tension on my hook, turning it into a mace. I spun it over my head, smashing it into the third enemy's brain case. The others tried to shoot but I was to close the sparks making my shadows play in the light.
I tasered a lady in the face and blocked a hook from her friend. My grapple just snaked back into my open hand when I shot it in his face. I heard a curse behind me and my skin found a few bullets embedding in it. When I glanced up after the knock-back all seven of the enemy were in front of me.
I shot my last stun grenade with one hand and grappled with the other. I was getting hit with more bullets but my armor was too thick. All seven of the people in front of me either dived or were knocked out and I made my escape.
I lily padded off the chandelier and over the mess, the two SS soldiers were hot on my tail. I was wide open running for the doors and taking damage. I turned as they were charging me and I shot my grapple. I was disappointed when the man dodged it and I hooked on a chair. I smiled, a big office rolly chair.
I kept running and as I drop-kicked the doors open the chair smashed into both the SS, not taking them out but covering my escape. I broke into the sunlight and with a few skilled swings from streetlights and buildings, I disappeared. Swinging I headed for my get-away ride, a two-toned black and red Maserati Birdcage.
The Maserati asked me where to go and I told her to lead me home. I kicked back and hit the auto-drive. I sighed from exhaustion as my blood was slowly pooling inside of the car.
She purred until the police sirens were long gone and that's when I turned my camera off. Villains on MyDarkSide.com like to post videos of their accomplishments and brag. Some of them like original video while others make montages, share weapon ideas, or otherwise show off.
I sighed again when I realized that I forgot about the Pig. It wasn't a big deal, it would self-destruct itself in two hours when I hit the timer on my phone. I dug my phone out of the glove department and did just that. I was contemplating on doing a direct upload to my profile when the car spoke with that sexy super robot computer voice, "Warning. Pedestrian."
I hardly said 'do-what' when I (, or the auto-drive,) creamed someone jade walking. I slammed on the brakes and looked in my rear view mirror. I asked my car how fast it was going a moment ago and it replied, "I was going forty-five miles per hour, sire."
(No I don't get everyone to call me 'sire'. Only my car and phone.)
I was shocked, the person in my rear view mirror should be dead but he's moving. Not only that, but his skin was black, like he was burning a moment ago black. I jumped out of my car, this guy is a super.
"Flag me wide."
When I got close the kid was running again. I shouted after him but he kept running. The kid shouted back at me, "Who are you!?"
I thought about that a moment, what was my villain name going to be?
"Don't worry I am uh a-uh a bank robber!"
"Stop! You'll be safe with me!"
The kid was reluctant to me but said, "Look behind you idiot!"
I did and I saw Angels; NOT GOOD. Angels are a secret police named after the Greek root, Angelos, (I think) meaning messenger. So if you ever saw messengers of your arrest or death; you saw Angels. I don't know if my day could get any worse.
They have three supers to a squad of six. They all have huge guns, and a lot of tech. If that's not the worst part, they always get the ladies in their suits!
They all looked like high tech Templar battle monks, and us the Moslems. The helmets on their heads are better than mine. The armor depends on the situation, light or heavy. Either you get mulched to death by Master Chief with a white cloak like mine, or you get stabbed or sniped by a cloaked ODST. What is going on? I can't tell, but I think it's to late to back out of now.
I ran considerably faster with someone chasing me. Especially when they are running to me on the walls. Yeah, like as in the flat walls were an awkward staircase. I struggled for reason within my mind. Why are the world's deadliest assassins chasing after a kid?
We ran up and down buildings and they were still on our tail. The kid's burnt skin seemingly regenerated, regaining its color. I feel super sure that the Angels have made the false conclusion that I'm teamed up with the kid as well.
We ran from the street into a café. The kid slid over tables and I tried to do the same, my iron clad breaking the table. After gazing at a few shocked coffee sipping seniors, I got up as fast as I could, and ran to the door.
I simply ran THROUGH the tables and the only exit was the emergency exit. The kid was raking his hands through his hair as I passed. Was the lad confused about what to do? He's getting chased by assassins and Dr. Doom smashed a table, I am positive that the manager is calling the cops. The other reason is, he's more stressed out than being the robbers for cops-and-robbers. Is he more stressed than me? I don't think so.
We came out with a horde of pedestrian traffic blocking our path. We stopped and it took half of a second to figure it out. I grabbed the munchkin by the back and put him on my back,
Through his objections I half-yelled, "Hold on kid!"
I was swinging with bullets following behind me. I did a 360 spin to see the Angels following me with grappling hooks of their own. I was surprised that the Angels were shooting in such a populated area.
Then it hit me, they're shooting because if they miss, they don't miss by far. It almost seemed like they were aiming for lights or other things, yet I don't think they hit a single person. Impressive, considering that they were shooting assault rifles while swinging from grappling hooks.
(Part 1 of 2)