Red Cloud meant more to me than anyone else on the face of the planet. She was my partner – a caring, sensitive soul who carried herself with a quiet confidence. She was a joy to be close to, and I fell for her the moment she walked into my life.
She was born with the ability to turn her body into a gaseous crimson form. She used it to get out of a country that would not allow her to worship the way she wanted to – or at all, for that matter. She eventually ended up in Buffalo and that’s where, seven years after her escape, she met me.
We moved to Manhattan to make more of a difference. I find it cruelly hysterical that this woman that I loved so dearly – who came to this country simply to find God – ended up in the most godless, sadistic and criminally superstitious city in the world… mostly because this city killed her two nights ago. Sometime between one and three in the morning on March 26th, 2015.
I am a masked vigilante who attempts to fight this senseless violence every night of my life. I am the Holy Avenger.
We joined the Scourge Squadron six months ago. After doing so we consequently saw much less of each other – we had no way to pair up during many assignments and we had decided to not make our relationship “public” among the unstable, super-powered criminals we fight. Two nights ago, Red Cloud went out on her own and never came back. She was found in the morning by a couple of kids who phoned 911. Her face had been blown away with a shotgun blast. Her body was covered in cuts and bite marks. Traces of saliva, semen and feces were found in every possible orifice that remained. She was the only thing I cared for in this world and she was brutally taken from me.
Nobody knows why. I’m going to find out if it takes ripping this filthy cesspool of a city apart, brick by stinking brick.
A Crimson Spring
Copyright © 2000. Written & Programmed by Robb Sherwin
First time players of this game should type “ABOUT”
Release 1.0.04 / Serial Number 001206 / Hugo 3.0
Red Cloud didn’t know anyone else in the city besides myself and the other members of the Scourge Squadron. Hell, I really don’t either. Everyone from the team made it to her funeral except for Pabski, the Wereboar. His absence didn’t surprise or remotely sadden me. I think he blew this off because the Yankees have a homestand against the Red Sox.
talk to succubus
Please select one:
(1)>“Jenn… thanks for coming tonight.”
(2)>“I never thought it’d end this way…”
Select a choice or 0 to keep quiet.>>
“I’m so sorry. I really am. She was always so full of hope and optimism… I’m sure that you knew, but the rest of us could always tell that there was something deep between the two of you. I considered her a friend, a close
friend, and I know that she was absolutely crazy about you.” She hushes her tone to a barely audible whisper. “Marc, we’re worried about you. About your sanity. We don’t want you to react to this like everyone on the news
says we do. Like what happened to Dark Pawn when Light Queen was killed.”
The case of Dark Pawn is something that many criminal psychologists point to when their agenda of intolerance is pushed a bit. Dark Pawn saw his lover, the Light Queen, gunned down before him while they were trying to
clear thirty-five people out of an apartment complex that had caught fire. She was shot with a sort of armor-piercing shell that ripped away most of her torso.
After it happened, Dark Pawn decided there was nothing stopping him from adopting the methods of his enemies. He killed Light Queen’s assassin – the Gibber – and all of his gang before the week was out. When the
crossfire had ended there were also a couple of dead seven-year-olds, their mother and two uniformed policemen who had attempted to defuse the situation. Dark Pawn was then killed himself by one of New York’s… finest.
Super-heroes were the rage on the talk show circuit after that. I was informed, through my television, that someone disposed to vigilantism has an entirely different process of thought upon reception of that kind of close
tragedy. Apparently, since we act out our “fantasies” against each other in the street every night we are much more likely to be unable to cope with disaster and go on a killing rampage instead.
I bought none of it. Dark Pawn wasn’t sane to begin with. He was just a guy, there was nothing to extrapolate from this. I don’t know if I’ve ever communicated my take on that to Jenn. Maybe a joke or something would
convince her that my head is on straight?
“Look, Jenn,” I whisper, “I understand where you are coming from. But really… you and I know that the only reason Dark Pawn didn’t snap from day one was because Light Queen was always able to keep him in check.” I give
her a quick cheshire grin and she smiles briefly despite herself. We both end the hug.
Ameba comes up to me and offers his condolences. He migrates back away from the coffin.