East meets West: The Dark Lord

[HumanePain]

Chapter 1: The Hunted

Xiong ruled with an iron fist. He would not lose power, now that he had won it after many years of long battle with his brother, Tianbao.
His brother had negotiated peace with the barbaric Westerners, who had no concept of honor, using their portable directed energy weapons carelessly.
The sword was the only holy weapon! He knew East could defeat any nation if The Sword were respected.

Now, his iron rule was at last bearing fruit: his standing army practiced and ready, his commanders obeyed without question and expected the same from their reports, his strategists confident in their intelligence data and plans. They would use
their new weapons and defenses that were developed in secret to not only catch the West in total surprise at the breach of the truce, but to completely annihilate them.

Tianbao had never been found after his guard had been ambushed, and his officers slain, but no matter: he was an impotent ghost of the past. Now was the time of Xiong...

------------

The evening prayers were being called with echoes, as the evening sky darkened early in the rain. The mosque's public address system never ceased, not even in rain, during the nightly prayers in the ancient city.

Istanbul in 2060 was still mostly Islamic after the mid-century Crusades had wiped out most of Iran and the Middle East thirty years earlier. The simultaneous Jihad terror attack of Washington D.C. and London with dirty nukes had triggered the
festering bloodthirst that had been building up since the 9/11 attack in New York.

The bloody response spared the Turks who were seen as more peaceful, and were fondly remembered as allies during older times.

In the dark rain, walking in the opposite direction from the faithful, a tall figure in a black trenchcoat took out a cigarette and protecting the lighter's flame, took a deep drag, the tip burning bright orange in the dark. Puffing, he made his way to the sidewalk bistro, a coffee shop frequented by Westerners, and always open, with internet access. He took a last drag and flicked the wasted cigarette into the water swollen gutter.

Looking up as the bell hanging on the doorknob chimed, another cloaked figure, removed sunglasses, and squinted at the newcomer with shrewd, Asian eyes. The newcomer walked to the table and sat down.

"Keep your glasses on. You stand out."

"I appreciate your kind concern, but I had to be sure it was you."

The tall, black haired man turned toward the waiter. The Asian could see a purple streak dyed in the man's long dark ponytail. He wondered who is the one who "stands out"? He smiled.

"Kahlua and coffee." The waiter nodded and went to work on the drink.

Black hair turned back to face his contact.

"Your brother no longer seems interested in you, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't take advantage of finding you."

"I do not intend to stay long. I made a big splash in London, thanks to your Goth friends. That will keep any scouts preoccupied."

"Here is your new identity." Black hair shuffled a large manila envelope across the table, hand covered in a black leather glove except for the fingers. Tianbao opened it. He smiled.

"Yu-wen. An ironic name for someone who must remain hidden."

"We have fun when we can." Black hair smiled. The name translated as One who will be known throughout the world.
The waiter was coming with coffee. The papers were slid back into the envelope.

Tianbao sensed something, a blur in the corner of his eye. The waiter!

"TRAITOR!"
The waiter pulled a black Glock 17 semi-auto handgun from under the coffee platter, throwing hot black liquid across the two conspirators. A wild shot blinded the men with a bright orange flame, the concussion hurting their eardrums, but neither one
felt any impact: the black haired Goth had flung his left arm up and had knocked the spy's shot through the ceiling, then spinning around, used his right fist to shock the assassin's chin with a brutal uppercut. The waiter flew backwards, hitting his
head on the counter, and unconscious, dropped the pistol clattering on the tile floor.

The Goth grabbed Tianbao by the elbow and half dragged half led him to the back door...

[davethedarklord]

How wondrous! How wondrous!

[HumanePain]

East meets West: The Dark Lord


Chapter 2: The Steel Road

The Goth led Tianbao to the train station. They did not buy any tickets, a nod from the conductor at the entrance to the passenger car and they were allowed in.

“You have contacts in excellent positions.” remarked Tianbao.

“We have been putting people in place for a while.” replied the Goth. They took their seats, facing each other next to the door. “It is easy to recruit. Everyone is afraid of another Crusade.” Tianbao nodded but said nothing. He was watching an armed train security guard, an older Turk than the younger one who had let them board, walking down the aisle as the train started, checking everyone. Everyone was suspect; paranoia was a survival trait.

The uniformed man approached them. He saw a Celtic cross hanging from the Goth’s silver necklace. The embedded purple jewels glinted as passing lights flickered through the train windows, chain swinging to the same clackety-clack rhythm of the iron wheels. He frowned. The Goth watched the guard’s hands carefully. They hadn’t reached for his side arm…yet.

“Your papers, Christian.”

The Goth slowly reached inside his trench coat so as not to surprise the guard.

“He is ok. He is Goth. It is the Celtic cross.” The young conductor who had let them board approached from the far door of the passenger cab.

The guard looked back at the seated man, and looked him over again, this time noticing details. The Irish had remained pacifists during the 21st Century Crusade. In the same way the Turks had been spared, the Irish would be too. These were the times where the neutral would reap what they had sown. He looked back at the ticket collector and nodded, then walked around and past his coworker.

The ticket collector sat down next to Tianbao.
“Let me see your papers. We need to make sure you will pass the questions of others.”
Tian complied, handing over the manila envelope after the Goth had nodded approval.
Opening the envelope, the conductor slid out the identification papers. He scanned them thoroughly, slid them back in and nodded to Tian. “Thank you, Yu-wen.” Turning to the Goth, he held out his hand. “Yours too.”

He reached in his trench coat and handed over a passport valise. The conductor opened and read it. He closed it with a snap and handed it back.
“Very good. Some advice for you Emil: hide the cross. It draws even more attention to you, attention that could come from…fatal sources.”

The Goth nodded, and tucked the necklace inside his black shirt collar. The conductor stood up, glanced at Tian, then left.

----------------------

It was day three on the four and a half day trip to China. The sleeper car’s rhythmic clatter slowing down woke Emil up from uneasy sleep. The constant watch, trading sleep periods with Tian was wearing on him. He quickly dressed and looked out.
Outside, Kabul in late afternoon. Good, it was the scheduled stop. He went to the diner, Tian should be there and awake.

Tian was seated by the diner car exit, ready for escape just in case. Emil sat next to him.
“Good afternoon Yu-wen. Don’t say anything when they board. Let me speak first.”
Tian nodded.

The train slowed to a stop. The diner emptied except for the two men. They sipped drinks and waited. Eventually, three men and a woman entered the far end of the car. They all carried ammo belts, AK-47’s slung over their shoulders, and handguns stuffed in their belts. All in black, but black fitting for Kabul: black turbans, some with red or purple sashes interwoven into the head covering. Black shirts, pants, sandals, and the woman: a black burka covering her head to toe, a dark purple raven embroidered on the back, billowing as she floated behind the men, gave the appearance the Raven was flying. A fine, dark purple mesh covering her face, but transparent enough that Emil could see blue eyes between long lashes.

“Hello Jamal.”

“Emil, you should greet the men first.” But he could tell she said it with a smile from the melody in her voice.

The men with her smiled, relaxing the tension that Tian had felt at their intimidating appearance. They sat down and called for drinks, then turned and addressed the Asian.

“We are glad to see you made it from London, Yu-wen. From the news, it appeared that your brother had found you.”

“That was the intention.” Tian remained somber. “But they may now know it was a ruse. We had a…problem in Istanbul.” He glanced at the Goth.

“Qusay, where do we meet the guides after we cross the border?” The train started moving again as Emil spoke.

“They will find you. Leave your purple hair visible. Just stay on the train to Lhasa in Tibet. From there they will guide you to Chengdu. There, many will be waiting. Many.” The leathery skin of the Afghan creased as he smiled. “East will meet West.”
They all raised small cups in toast.

Jamal raised a cup too. “It will be a warm welcome.” she said.
They all smiled.
----------------------

The train slowed for the border check. This would be a dangerous time. The Chinese would not expect a man with a death sentence over his head to try and enter the country, but that would not make Tian feel any less tense. He swallowed the last of his drink and hoped the alcohol would not only make him relaxed, but make him smell like a tourist also.

The train stopped. Many Chinese guards boarded, rifles slung over their backs, sidearms in holsters, fur caps and uniforms making them all look alike. Emil and Tian remained seated in the diner car, papers ready. Orders were being barked. The Commander walked into the diner car, he had heard a Westerner was aboard. He thought back to his orders the day before, orders from none other than Xiong himself…

-----------------------

“The Goths are helping him. Look for those who wear black. Do not become overconfident: the smartest ones are pacifists, but they can deal with violence and survive. They have been known to kill when needed. We saw this in London. It was a decoy. We know he was in Kabul three days ago. His direction is home: he will try to enter the country. Be ready…”

[HumanePain]

Thank you Dave The Dark Lord!
Thank you for the idea. But it is not yet time for the Goths of East to meet Goths of West...soon...soon...

[davethedarklord]

A little like a modern and gothic version of Marco Polo.
Lhasa and Chengdu are all mysterious places even to me.
But for the dark lord himself,to wait, seated in a chair, is the deadest form of dead anticipation, and waiting the most unexpected form of death.Ah,he must be enjoyed by waiting HumanePain's next Charpter.

[HumanePain]

East meets West: The Dark Lord

Chapter 3: Border

The Commander was led to the diner car. There, as he was told was a Westerner, his clothing as his leader had warned. But he focused on the Asian companion: this was not the leader’s brother as he remembered in the photographs. This was someone else. But he would not take any chances, if he let the brother slip through his fingers, his demotion would be deadly.

He did not even ask for their papers, documents could be forged. He turned and nodded at his men, and one of them left the car. Moments later, he returned with a person Emil recognized immediately with contempt.

He did not recognize the cyber-punk personally, but recognized him as a mercenary, a traitor to the dark, world-wide culture that had crossed borders and politics, a modern Benedict Arnold. These sellouts went to the highest bidder in order to sustain their addiction to faster and smaller technology. Loners.

Emil could see the heads up display light up in the chrome framed tinted goggles; the man was superimposing images over him and Tian to find a match with known fugitives.
Emil watched every muscle of the man’s face, looking for minutiae that would reveal aha! Found you!

Tian wondered at the mercenary’s outfit: twin loops of thin wires around his ears provided the charging field for the subcutaneous cellphone/audio receiver implanted next to his temple. The blue flexi-wire choker around his neck provided transmit ability at the lowest audible levels, allowing a special, guttural speech form to be used without anyone knowing if he was communicating or just swallowing. A flexi-wire keyboard wrapped around his left forearm, and tiny lights, LEDs, some lit, some blinking on his head, neck arms, and waist. The man was plugged into databases around the world by satellite.

Tian held his breath. The cyber-punk looked up at Tian, and then looked at the Commander:
“Nothing on him.” He then turned to Emil, and again: the faces flashing by in the goggles, in rapid succession, then one stopped:

“Emil Schmidt. Born in Ireland of German parents, raised in Vancouver, holds 15 citizenships. Multiple degrees. No known military or firearms training.”

The Commander looked at Tian one more time.
“Check the rest of the train.” He left, the men and cyber-punk following.

---------------------

The train began moving at dusk, the reddish brown haze near the horizon fading into dark purple and black as night fell. It was Emil’s turn for watch, as Tian made ready for bed. As Tian shaved, he cut himself.
“18 months and I am still not used to the new face.” He said, remarking on his plastic surgery.
Emil looked back at him as he went out the compartment door. “It is an improvement.” He smiled, and so did Tian. They were familiar enough travelers now that they could indulge in humorous teasing…

[davethedarklord]

Originally Posted by HumanePain

The train began moving at dusk, the reddish brown haze near the horizon fading into dark purple and black as night fell. It was Emil’s turn for watch, as Tian made ready for bed. As Tian shaved, he cut himself.
“18 months and I am still not used to the new face.” He said, remarking on his plastic surgery.
Emil looked back at him as he went out the compartment door. “It is an improvement.” He smiled, and so did Tian. They were familiar enough travelers now that they could indulge in humorous teasing…

Two men goes far to find out what thet are
Death of the self in a long, tearless night,
All natural shapes blazing unnatural light.

[HumanePain]

Originally Posted by davethedarklord

Two men go far
to find out what they are
Death of the self
in a long, tearless night,
All natural shapes
blazing unnatural light.

Damn (jealous) you're very good Dave. I can't write decent poetry.
My stories are more like the Channel 7 news...

[davethedarklord]

That story is indeed very good. I shall have to repeat that after the death of self!

[davethedarklord]

I felt guilty by making you uneazy,HumanePain,this one is actually copied from somewhere else.

[Crying_Crimson_Tears]

Wow Humane this is quite good. The mystery and the story line is nice. Although I like your "When Bats Sleep" story a little bit better. This one is still very nicely written and I like it.

[HumanePain]

Originally Posted by davethedarklord

I felt guilty by making you uneazy,HumanePain,this one is actually copied from somewhere else.

No worries Dave!

Dave wrote words
that Humane never heard
but nobody else
got any jealous
because laughing with a roar
they had heard it before!


And thank you my dear Crimson Tears.

By the way, I haven't seen your boyfriend post anything in a while (SeekTo Amplify), are we not his cup of tea?

[Crying_Crimson_Tears]

No, he's just too lazy to get his bloody self on here and post anything.

[davethedarklord]

[quote=HumanePain]No worries Dave!
Dave wrote words
that Humane never heard
but nobody else
got any jealous
because laughing with a roar
they had heard it before!
[quote]

I promise,my friend.
He will return.

[c130]

Hey, you mind if I draw a comic out of this? I want to do something creative, and always felt like drawing a comic (but never had a script and couldn't write one msyelf). I probably won't make it past the second page, but it'd be nice to have your permission to do so, because it's a very comic-able story here. :3

[HumanePain]

Go for it! Just post it in the picture thread so we can all admire...

[BlackButterfly]

I love you short story writer types, but damn it, you keep hurting my poor psyche by starting these absolutely enthralling stories and leaving me hanging!

It's the psychological equivalent of running forward at full clip and totally being awestruck by your surroundings, then suddenly discovering that you are out of ground on which to run...


Please rescue my plummeting psyche! Give me more storyyyyyy!!
::overwhelmingly cute puppy dog eyes::


...please?

[HumanePain]

I will BB, I just have to wait for the weekends to write. I can't seem to do any quality writing during the week when I can't concentrate. If I try to force the muse, the story reflects it and I do the reader an injustice. But I will continue this one this weekend!

[HumanePain]

Chapter 4: Lhasa

Emil looked out the diner car window, seated alone at the table in the early twilight. Tian was asleep, but even when he was awake; he had avoided windows since the train had begun the climb into Tibet. The tracks were following a very narrow cliff top that hugged the mountains; human effort exerted just enough to carve sufficient space for the train, no more, no less. The result was the perception as one looked out the window that the train was floating in the sky, with nothing beneath it. Tian was afraid of heights. Now simply the thought of hundreds of tons of metal train being supported by cracked and weathered granite merely a few feet wide was too much for him. He stayed in the sleeper car.

Occasionally Emil would spy the remains of some kind of vehicle or another battered and destroyed on the rocks below: trucks and heavy equipment from the original construction of the tracks, or worse: train cars and even an engine on its side, broken in two over a huge boulder in the riverbed at the bottom of the chasm, the rocks stained with years of rust; the train dissolving as if it were bleeding.

The diner car was heated, but one still needed heavy clothing as the car was not airtight. One could feel sharp wisps of cold, drafting in here and there, bringing the reality of the snow and ice that lay on the mountains only a few feet away on the other side of the train walls.

As the train rounded the repeated bends in the mountain side, Emil could see after every other bend, the distant lights of the village of Lhasa. This was to be the rendezvous, if all went well. They were within 30 minutes of pulling into the station. He finished the last swallow of his coffee and got up to awaken Tianbao.

…………….

The paper lanterns were brightening and dimming as they swung in the cold wind drafting through the wooden train station. The Tibetan contact checked his watch: the train should be here soon. He got up and going out the platform doors, saw the train in the distance, winding around the mountain as it approached the station. He could hear it now.

Then, from the opposite side of the canyon, he saw a bright flash. Seconds later, the sound reached his ears: the unmistakable sound of cannon fire! The slope above the approaching train exploded in white as the projectile impacted the mountain side. The resulting avalanche and rock slide fell over the trailing cars of the train, but it continued.

Another flash, this time the caboose exploded in splinters, wavered back and forth as if it was trying to hang onto the end of the train, then rolled off the track and tumbled down the cliff in disintegration. The train continued, but now it was blowing its whistle in warning.

By the third flash, the Tibetan contact was already leaving the station, and joining others on horseback, left the station towards the train. This time, the projectile blasted the center of the relatively short passenger train, cars to the left and right rolled off the tracks and dragging the rest of the train with them, tumbled down the cliffs in black smoke and a roar, snow and boulders following. The train hit the canyon bottom with a thunderous boom, fire shooting up in red and yellow flames, topped by a black mushroom cloud. Then there was only the sliding snow and rocks still falling to cover up the train in finality.

When the Tibetan began to lead his horse onto the train tracks instead of the path to the riverbed, his friends yelled questions, but he only waved his arm in the command to follow. The sound of hooves faded into the twilight.

[HumanePain]

Chapter 5: Two Meetings

The Commander had finally arrived at Xiong’s estate. For good news of this nature, it was permitted to deliver it directly to his home. Dark news was only to be received at the Dark Lord’s office, so as not to disturb the serenity of his Excellency’s home.

He passed through the security of the twin gates; huge double doors engraved with opposing red dragons, each with its claws stretched out towards its mirror twin. The gates opened, and he entered into paradise.

The walkway led from the gates into a winding path that curved around Japanese maples and melalucas, expensive trees imported full grown, on a regular basis, as the local parasites and weather would not permit such beautiful foliage to survive year after year. A small stream trickled over stair step waterfalls, and in the pools that formed at the bottom of each waterfall, spotted and solid gold Koi fish, swimming slowly and with grace.

The Commander walked over a small wooden bridge, and into a patio area, to see Xiong himself, seated in repose, beautiful women on either side. No obvious bodyguard was visible he knew, because these women could kill a man twice their size with their hands, feet, elbows or whatever. They were the real bodyguard. They smiled sweetly at the Commander as he came into view. He swallowed nervously.

“Welcome Commander.” The Dark Lord smiled.

“Your Excellency.” The Commander bowed.

“Please Commander, be seated.” Xiong turned to the ladies. “Leave us.”
The bodyguards bowed and left. “What news do you bring?”

“Your Excellency, your brother…”

“You mean the traitor.” The Dark Lord wasn’t smiling.

“I misspoke your Excellency, forgive me. It is the excitement of the news.”

The Dark Lord smiled. “Yes, the news. What is it?”

“Last night we killed the traitor and his accomplice. We know he was on the train, and we blew it off the side of the mountain. It was completely destroyed, with no survivors.”

“Then you have his body?”

The Commander swallowed again. “Not yet your Excellency. We suspect he had plastic surgery, that is how he got past the cyberpunk. That is why we did not know he was on the train until after it left. We would not have destroyed the train otherwise.”

Xiong raised a hand to his mouth and coughed. The bodyguards appeared, and stood about 20 feet from the two men. The Commander was now obviously nervous.

“Bring me his body, and quickly. If you have failed, every minute lost is a minute the traitor has to his advantage. Now go!” The bodyguards slowly walked up to the men.

“Yes your Excellency!” The Commander turned and left before the women took another step.

………………

The Tibetan arrived at where the third shell had impacted the center of the train. Scattered fires in the mountainside forest confirmed the explosion had been here. If he was right, Emil would have jumped the train after the first shell. He continued leading his horse down the tracks, his compatriots behind him.

Now he saw after a spell of darkness, a few remaining fires and glowing embers from where the caboose had blown up. He slowed the pace of his horse now, squinting up and down the mountainside. The he saw them.

Walking up the center of the tracks, was Emil, with Tianbao’s arm over Emil’s shoulder.
The Goth was helping the wounded man walk, who managed even with a limp to wave an arm in greeting to the horsemen.

“Emil?”

“Yes!”

The Horsemen dismounted, and then helped the two survivors get on their now shared horses.

“Are there any other survivors? Did anyone else jump?”

“No, just Yu-wen and I. I think he fractured his leg when he landed.”

“We will take him straight to the doctor, but not until we are sure they are not watching the hospital for incoming survivors.”

“Tell the doctor to come to us, I have plenty of money to pay him cash.”

The Tibetan nodded, and turning around on their horses, the now increased party trotted off back up the tracks in darkness, the twinkling glow of the village lights beckoning.

[HumanePain]

Wow. It's been almost a month since DaveTheDarkLord has been around. Wonder if he has read my latest two chapters? Hello Dave?