Revenge

Nearby, a radio seemed to call out for him. “If you’re listening… You need to dig deep… to rise up.”

War noted the familiarity one the voice that crackled over the airwaves. “Nightwalker…” he grunted.

****

Johnny stood before a video camera. One that broadcasted around the world. To all the eyes that remained behind. They all watched eagerly.

“You are scared, I know. I was too… I used to think I was alone after my best friend died. But then I found out things… horrible things. My friends, there exists an organization named the Agency. Its sole purpose is to take children, animals; lab creations, where people are given powers. Powers over animals, technology, people, and more. They abduct, destroy lives, wreck homes, and sell their creations to the highest bidder. Governments around the world use these “super soldiers” all in the name of profit.

I am one of those super soldiers. My friend was killed and made to look like a suicide. My father was one of the lead researchers… his sins are many… but he made me… to help right the wrong. He paid the ultimate sacrifice to help atone… I plan on making sure he, like so many, didn’t die in vain.

I ask you, all of you. Though you are afraid, I will guide you through the darkness—through this calamity. We will survive… but I need YOU to stand together with me.”

Johnny’s eyes dropped to the bloodied floor where so many people died at the hands of Pestilence. “We can beat them—all of them, together.”

The ground around Johnny shook. More buildings were toppling.

“I won’t go quietly, nor should you.”

****

War had reached to his feet. Slowly. He felt a certain pride within.

“Ah, did you find your balls, War?” Omega taunted.

“Just that I know you’ll be beaten is enough of a victory for me,” War smirked.

Omega laughed hysterically. “By whom? Look around you, fool. You’ve done the legwork and the wet work! That puny boy is of no concern to me.”

War grinned as he took a knee. For then, Death and Famine appeared.

“We are with you, brother,” they both said.

Death illuminated a bloody aura. The ground around him was drained of life, leaving behind only black and gray.

“You’ll pay, Omega,” Death snarled.

Omega folded his arms. “You’ve all been so gracious to come to me. This really is too sweet. I may just give you all a quick death after all.”

War focused on his thoughts and his person of interest.

Nightwalker… I’ve heard your message. I—I wish to help right the wrong I and my brothers have committed.

War looked around for the boy, but only found the hulking Omega.

“Haha… praying to your god, War? I thought you were strong. That you had no weakness.”

War dropped his gaze to the ground. And then…

“No… just buying time,” he grinned.

“I heard your call,” a voice said behind War and his brothers.

Omega grinned wickedly. “Hello… brother.”

****

Johnny stared Omega down. While the Horsemen eyed Johnny. War grabbed them both by the arm. “We were misled and pressed to do wrong. Both from the start and after our awakening. We must right our wrongs. Together, we will be strong enough to defeat him.”

Both of his brothers nodded.

Omega laughed. “This is all so cute. Another family reunion. A partnership. Oh, dear, brother… I have some bad news about your dear old adoptive parents.” He grinned and licked his lips.

Johnny’s heart sank. “What did you do?” his voice low.

Omega cracked his neck. “Honestly, I’m more of a show and tell kind of guy. So…” he pulled out a hologram projector. On it the makeshift screen, it played the last few moments of Johnny’s parents. Though they weren’t his real parents, they had been there for him. Saved him. Guided him. They were beaten senseless. Blood flowed from their grievous wounds.

Omega then motioned in the hologram to a pair of dogs that laid motionless on the ground. “Let’s do a switcheroo! Whaddya say, Johnny? Sound good?”

Then, his parents were implemented into the dogs. Where they screamed one agony. Their human bodies flailed on the ground and then died.

“Hoo hoo! Look at them. LOOK AT THEM, JOHNNY!”

His parents begged to be put out of their misery.

“Well, you know… I’m a fan of euthanasia, so…”

Omega then jumped furiously atop the dogs. Crushing their bodies… their skulls.

“It’s just like playing in the water!” Omega cackled.

Then he did a close up of the dead dogs. “They could have been saved, Johnny. But no, you had to play hardball. Well, I’ma real hitter, babe.”

Then the hologram stopped.

Nobody moved. Omega laughed and shook his head. “That’s probably some of my finest work there.”

JOHNNY “NIGHTWALKER” IS AN ONGOING A.B.NORMAL PUBLISHING EXCLUSIVE STORY BY ROBERT J. S. T. MCCARTNEY. CHECK HERE FOR MORE POSTS.
Previously
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Johnny “Nightwalker”

Hey, folks.

Here, we are taking a look back at the series of posts for the story Johnny “Nightwalker  that are laid out in ToC (table of contents) form. What you will find is the current posts leading up to the hiatus that has taken place.

The conclusion of this story will be released via post when they are fit. Edits and revision are not seen as a hurdle, as it is believed (and best practice) to write right away, and then worry about the small parts later.

Now, let’s get down to business, shall we?


Johnny “Nightwalker”

by Robert J. S. T. McCartney

Origins

Awakening [Part One]

Awakening [Part Two]

Truth [Part One]

Truth [Part Two]

Truth [Part Three]

Ringleader [Part One]

Ringleader [Part Two]

Ringleader [Part Three]

Homecoming

Back in Black

Mr. Jones

Observe and Report

Trillion Dollar Baby

Touch of Grey

Les Terrible Pierre

Victim or Hostage?

The Enemy of My Enemy is My Friend

Apocalypse…

The Black Plague’s End

Consequence and Retaliation

Family Reunion

Reunion [Continued]

War


The purpose of this is to serve as a ToC and provide ease of navigation. When the new posts come out, they will be added to this ToC accordingly.

Look for the conclusion of Johnny “Nightwalker” this year. It will then undergo editing, revision, design and then some. It has an ETA release of 2018 (paperback and hardcover) while digital will be released sooner.

More details will follow in time.

Until next time,

RJM

Excerpt From a WIP [Work in Progress] Piece of Mine.

What follows is a small excerpt from my epic dystopian novel (that is still a WIP). It is a rather large novel, one that will most likely be broken up into parts (while a super mega ultra rare edition will be. . .all parts in one.).

OK, here’s a hint at how massive it is right now. 600+ pages and I have 20 or so pages of outline. It’s in its raw form; unedited, not revised. Just. Raw. *boom*

Anyway, this particular addition is something I came up with the other day and as such, it has found a place within the novel, which serves as a sort of backdrop. A society that is controlled via nanomachines. Where the rich live in biodomes and the poor in slums or radioactive wastelands. Where lies and fear are spread continuously to help control the weak.

It’s up to a group of rebels to take on the organization that overthrew the world’s governments from their original rule and to free the people whose minds have been warped. Can they rebuild society, though? Can they remake the Earth? Or is it all just a fantasy?

It’s Hell on Earth. Here. Now.


Malthus turned his attention back to the computer monitor. His eyes tired from staring at the screen of variables and formulas for so long. Hours upon hours. The calculation was everything—it meant. . .everything.

They have to be exact. Precise.

He felt a vibration in his pocket. Another disturbance. There was no time for more of those.

The computer screen went black. Anger set in. A mighty fist hammered the keyboard.

Malthus sighed heavily. The generator probably finally went.

Then, on the screen there appeared a ghastly man, an old friend and lab partner of his. “Malthus,”

“You—you? It can’t be.”

The man spoke again. This time, his tone more melancholic. “This is a pre-recorded message. I pray when you receive this, you know what to do. Play it. Share it. It is time.”

The man cleared his throat, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

“My friends, I have a confession I would like to share with you.”

“You see, I cannot contribute to society anymore; for what it stands for, the people that are placed upon such high pedestals, that will send us to our certain doom. What I can do is call for us to rebel.”

His eyes opened; an inferno raged within them. “Rebel, friends.”

“Let us lead each other into unity and overthrow the corruption that is now. Let us purge this idyllic idiocy that casts its horrible shadow of death and our demise.”

The man’s voice grew louder, almost shouting. “Rise up.”

“Rise up from your decrepit chair of lives lost. Shed the shackles of debt and control. Rip off the blindfold of lies and deceit. Remove the earplugs that kept the truth from ringing in your ears!”

“Be free,” he shouted.

The fire in the man’s spirit raged on, behind his words, and in his voice. “See your brothers and sisters; for we all are of one race. Cast aside the labels: of prejudice, race, religion, sex, and profession. Let the truth ring; let it resound throughout the land! We will not be slaves! We will never be subjective subjects to a corrupt and unruly society and government!”

“We must be fleet-footed, truthful and just. For our enemies are numerous and vast. We must make examples of those responsible.”

His tone changed to a cautionary tale. “Be wary, friends, for there are brothers and sisters who are oppressed and fear for their families and loved ones. We must protect them, our neighbors, the sick, the poor, and our children.”

The man took in another deep breath, while a tear ran down his cheek. “Let our voices carry truth. Let our final cry be heard! Let the world know, we are no longer dumb, deaf or blind to the corruption that plagues us! And we shall strike down those that oppose the will of the People.”

“Enough!” said a stranger in the video recording. “He’s said enough. Now, make an example of what we do. . .to traitors.”

The defiant man breathed heavily. His spirit raged on. “We are the beacons in the dark! We are the Torch Bearers!”

A gunshot resounded and the man still sat up. Focused. Fixated.

The man shouted at the top of his lungs, “WE WILL NOT BE CONTROLLED!”

Gunfire erupted on the scene, and then the man, along with whoever was present were engulfed in flames.

Malthus stared at the screen and stopped the recording. He grinned to himself. “My friend, you did it. You really did it.”


I hope you enjoyed that small piece and that you potentially, look forward to the final product. . .when it gets done. Hoo!

More to come and all that fun stuff. Right now? Dinner! I gotta make this BBQ pulled chicken. 😉

Until next time.

RJM

Expectations

What are your expectations? It doesn’t matter if it’s in business, life, a career, sex, your spouse (or significant other/mate), food, eating out, a new video game, your president, your government, etc.

Where did you set the bar? High? Low? Somewhere in the middle? Do you set certain expectations high in your list that only you know about?

With people nowadays, you can see something like:

“10/10. Would bang again.”— Internet Troll

“Drove like a snail in rush hour traffic. Wouldn’t recommend. 1 star.”— Anon Uber App User.

or maybe something like:

“They looked great but was horrible in the sack. Also found out now I have The Clap.” — Anon, Booty Call App User

I mean, we have a president that uses Twitter to influence others; ratings can go up or tank at a single whim.

This leads to the next point: Reviews—they’re similar you know. In fact, they’re mostly just the faux mask that covers “expectations.” You are reviewing your expectations and addressing those expectations of an establishment, book, place, person, etc.

Some folks nowadays can’t function very well out in the world without the strong opinion of “the elite.” You know the folks that are on Yelp that say “Elite ’15, 16, 17,” and so on? Or “highest reviewer” accredited to their username via Google+.

No, I am not one of those folks.

There are tons of horrible people, sure. However, there are a lot of good people in the world too. We’re humans. It is expected. You can sort and sift through reviews and you get a glance—a glimmer of what type/kind of person someone is. Not only by their history of visits, purchase history, and the sort but by how you are being told how they interacted with whoever they are reviewing [this also constitutes an establishment, customer service, etc.].

“I had a bad experience here. They threatened my fish.” — Anon

“Food was horrible. I wouldn’t even consider bringing it home and giving it to my dog.” — Anon couple; I actually overheard this one.

There are millions of reviews out there. Those who feel the need to make a point. Those who must feel the need to feel needed. Those that seek others satisfaction.

Ah, the Digital Age.

The Internet is a wonderful, yet, scary place to be on. You have an insurmountable wealth of knowledge and tools. Yet we spend hundreds to thousands of hours watching cat videos. Fragging people [Nothing wrong with that, game on! And yes, that is me being bias.]. Stealing other peoples’ identity. Hacking elections. Ousting pedophiles that have horrible images on their computer drives. I can keep going.

Technology has changed us—humanity. The human race. Technology knows no racial bias (except maybe console versus PC; Sony vs. Microsoft, .etc but that’s reaching at best.). It knows what we have programmed it to be. What we want it to be. What advances we want. Cures. Curse. Death. Damage. What can we do to inflict unto others? The good intermingled with the bad and vice versa.

You may ask, “What the hell does that have to do with expectations? Why did you bring up reviews? Who the hell threatens a fish?”

Well, we expect a lot. So much from businesses, people, schools, etc. Our family. Some men expect women to put out on the first date. We expect food to be hot (or cold) and served at our preference. We expect to be put first, high up on a pedestal. Some people expect their religion is right and is superior to another person’s. We expect the loser to go home crying. . .with a participation trophy. We expect too much—as a society, a whole. It’s a path that can—and will—lead us to our downfall. We cater too much, while not giving a damn about consequences. Enter your “keyboard warriors,” cyber bullies, trolls, etc.

Great expectations.

We are not a community that is so transparent. Well, we are. . .when it comes to greed. But that’s another lengthy discussion, though. We’re not a close-knit community that really backs each other up, helps one another without expecting something in return, gratification, or simple enough—money.

Technology has sped up our dehumanization and desensitization. When we are able to truly modify our bodies as cyborgs and/or androids, will a person even care about anyone else? Would we still exist as being. . .human?

That “eternal salvation” of uploading your memories and consciousness to the Internet (Transcendence on crack), while say, a meteor that will destroy mankind indefinitely here on Earth, but elsewhere in the galaxy or universe, we are beamed via satellite signal to space and wake up in new sleek android models. It was just a few seconds in delay to us, but in actuality, it was a hell of a long time.

I digress. Simply put, times have changed. The radical evolution of societal influence and lack of actual human interaction, the lessening of empathy, lack of sympathy, morals tossed out the window, common sense that is now rare, and so on.

We often like to say that we are the superior race, especially, when it comes to man versus beast. However, are we really that much better? Cool—poseable thumbs, a large neocortex, “alleged capabilities of complex problem solving, and operating weapons of mass destruction.” Sure, I guess we are. I suppose I would say that sardonically, because I know even after we are all gone, Nature will go on without us. It has for millions of years and will.

Sure, I guess we are. I suppose I would say that sardonically because I know even after we are all gone, nature will go on without us. It has for millions of years and will continue to.

You can consider this, I suppose a young person rambling on. Perhaps. But would you disagree? That there are a lot of issues that are presented here that are of importance and relevant, that are just tossed aside like everyday refuse? Swept under the rug. Dismissed and barred from public discussion because it’s a “no-no” and would make someone else upset and they might break out the whips and chains [Not the good kind either.].

Suicide, depression, anxiety, PTSD [Post Traumatic Stress Disorder], bullying, all of these and more are getting quite out of hand. As a sufferer of one of these many. . .side effects. . .I’ve made it my way of life to explore them, help others, learn other peoples’ stories and experiences, and even just listen. We all bleed the same. We all break. When, how, and why, though will come in to question.

So, you will see posts about suicide. Depression. Anxiety. PTSD. Other mental health issues and such. Writing is my therapy. It’s my way of sharing with others. Though it may be fiction in some ways, you do not have to feel silenced, judged, oppressed. With how news, media, and press are getting gagged, misinformation everywhere, etc. What’s next? Writers of fiction and non-fiction are hunted? We’ll see, right?

While I hope to entertain people, make it my career, provide expectations, get reviewed—I do it for myself. Do you want to know who my most cynical critic and ball-breaking is? It’s me. Granted, I am changing that way to not giving a damn completely, it’s still a process. I want to write just for the pure enjoyment I get out of doing it; being a god amongst men and women, creating worlds, life. In the very same manner—becoming death, chaos, a destroyer of worlds and relationships.

I could go on and on. . .though I would like to know: what are your expectations in life right now?

I will end with one of my favorite quote from the movie Legend with Tim Curry and Tom Cruise.

“The dreams of youth are the regrets of maturity. Dreams are my speciality. Through dreams, I influence mankind.” — The Lord of Darkness; Tim Curry

I wish you all well. Be safe and take care. The world is a mess. . .but it is a beautiful mess under all those bandages.

RJM

 

P. S. While I reintroduce some works, I invite you to check out a free ebook on the Kindle store: Abnormal Side Effects. If it’s not free for your region, then I invite you to a free copy here.

Feel free to talk with me, too. I don’t bite. Too hard.