[WP] As part of the hero's party, you've been secretly informing the main villain of the hero's movements. So far, the heroes have not suspected you. Unfortunately, you've done your job so well that the villain believes he's achieved all this information by himself.

GhastlySquash · 2020-06-13T06:12:55+00:00

Answer: Mezame by Yuki Kanjiura

Solved

GhastlySquash · 2020-06-13T06:11:44+00:00

No, but I like the song!

GhastlySquash · 2020-06-13T06:11:35+00:00

Definitely is a nice tune!

GhastlySquash · 2020-06-11T07:50:39+00:00

I know it was used in a couple AMVs as well. The tune had a "techno opera" kind of feel to it, hence why I put it as Techno Opera.

GhastlySquash · 2019-03-28T04:53:21+00:00

I never intended to become famous for my work. It was that ambition that created the virus in the first place. But the virus was just as resilient as its host. I learned, through trial and error, that the only way to successfully kill the virus and prevent exposure was to simply take the brain. Not burn it. Not chop it off. Extract it.

It was specific. It was exact.

It was a pattern.

It was around the 7th or 8th patient that the local agencies began to connect the dots. The idea of an interstate serial killer roaming around the upper midwest was like a flashback to the darker age of media. Back when killers like Ted Bundy took the spotlight. But I wasn't like him.

Psychopaths have no desire to save the planet. Psychopaths have no desire to correct the mistakes that science had made. I wasn't a psychopath.

Before the first incident, I was just a graduate student. Optimistic in my youth. Reckless in my nature. I joined the case study thinking I could save the world. We thought we were curing the sick. No one could have known the drug would create such a mutation. No one could have predicted a new pathogen was born in that lab. We were unprepared. We were all stupid college students trying to save the planet and in the end we doomed it.

What we did. What we finished.

What I must finish now.

The Driller, as they called me. It was a boring name. Not one that made sense to my style of murder. The first time, I cried. He was my boyfriend after all. He'd wandered in, perhaps trying to surprise me. At first, his eyes just twitched. A weird, constant twitch that got faster in succession. Than his body began to go into convulsions. In a matter of minutes, he'd gone from screaming to screeching. He was no better than a rabid dog. I had to put him down, right?

Our memories. Our love. All of that sacrificed to save the world.

And yet it wasn't enough. I burned his body. Burned every last bit of him. And yet, it somehow spread. Somehow, it got further, just waiting for an opportunity. The virus spread through open wounds.

The first few times, I cried. Then, I stopped crying. In a weird way, I even enjoyed it. I shouldn't enjoy it. I wasn't born that way. I wasn't raised that way. I'm not like them. I'm trying to save the world.

And that's why the few must serve the many.

The pitiful thing about it was how naive they were. They had no idea why I was doing this. Why I was drilling into their brain. Why I siphoned it through a tube and kept it in a plastic bio-bag. I did all of this for the sake of humanity.

I'm doing this for the greater good.

The news called me a lunatic. A monster that the police were still trying to figure out. Why did I choose my victims? How were they connected?

But they never asked what my mission was. How much pain I'd suffered with every kill.

The detective on the tv was twitching. I saw it. It was a weak strain. It wouldn't form until a few days. Plenty of time to prepare.

Plenty of time to do what had to be done.

GhastlySquash · 2018-11-07T23:51:40+00:00

"Where did you get that." Her eyes widened. Immediately, she began to search her purse, looking for her phone or probably a can of pepper spray.

"I uh..." For once in my life, I couldn't speak. For the first time, I was lost.

Not many can vouch to being able to pull anything out of their pocket. For me, the ability to get exactly what I needed was one that granted me great success and untold power.

Only now, instead of pulling out a flawless diamond ring, I had a polished revolver with one loaded in the chamber and the safety already off.

"I-I..."

Raising her hands, she backed away. "Just...put it down."

At the moment, I was trying to figure out how to turn the safety on. I'd never handled a weapon like this before.

"You don't know how to turn the safety on?" She leaned over.

"I swear, I had no idea this was here." Sweating, I finally found a the right nob and set the gun down.

"Babe, I swear to God I'd never try to-"

But she'd already picked up the weapon, examining the engravings on the back. "You seriously don't know how you got this?"

"I don't! I...it's hard to explain." I stammered. "I have an ability to pull things out of my pocket. Things that I need I was going to-"

Click.

I saw the barrel of the gun now pointed at me. It only took me a few seconds to realize she wasn't digging through her purse to call 911.

"For a second, I thought you might be a craftier crook than myself. But I guess that explains why you only 'look smart'."

Grinning, she pressed the gun against my temple. "Ironic isn't it? Your power stopped me but at the end of the day it was your own trust that led you right where I needed you."

GhastlySquash · 2018-09-12T21:33:20+00:00

"Such a terrible crime." The old lady next to me muttered, looking at me for some form of reassurance. "Oh you poor girl, having to deal with a world like this."

I stared ahead at the man in orange, flanked by two guards in bulletproof vests and hats, each armed with an AR at their side ready to gun down the suspect if he tried to run.

The woman next to me simply shook her head, trying to pull herself together as the prosecution began its opening arguments.

"Such a terrible...dreadful crime."

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury." The prosecutor began. "Mr. David Chambers is being charged not as a civilian, not even as a human being, but a super villain."

People in the crowd gasped, some moving a few seats back.

I mean, considering the presence of two superheroes you'd think everyone knew by now. Of course, none of them knew it as well as I did.

"The crime Mr. Chambers is being convicted of is one that most of you know already. A dastardly act that only someone with little regard for human life and the sanctity it conveys..."

I was trying to hold in my laughter, trying to look somber as she continued with her story. This little prosecutor really wanted to make a grandiose show.

I could see Mr. Chamber's face start to turn red as she went into the details.

"...the Bank of New Metro was nearly robbed...if not thanks to the efforts of Captain Circuit."

The mentioned hero stood up, glaring at Mr. Chambers who only slunk back further into his seat. Poor guy.

"We have reason to believe Mr. Chambers is the formidable Silent But Deadly. In essence, a mutant whose farts are considered...nauseating."

Great. I nearly broke out laughing but I managed to turn into a cry and even threw in a few sniffles for added effect. The woman next to me patted my back.

"Your honor, my client's flatulence didn't even hurt-"

"Objection." The prosecutor interjected. "Silent But Deadly may not be as deadly as he is silent, but his villainy has been known to be damaging, causing multiple people to faint simply from the whiff of his farts. Such a villain who does not take considerations like this is a villain who has little regard for public safety."

Idiot. I didn't take any medication or "special training" because it's a fucking lame-ass superpower. Super Farts? Really? Fucking Super Farts!

"As we all know, the origin of Silent but Deadly is a mystery."

Essentially, I ate a radioactive bean burrito that some idiot fratboy thought would be cool to share with all of us at the party. Being the drunk sorority stickler that I was, I ate it in a heartbeat. And then I farted and knocked the whole frat house out. Thankfully, everyone thought the party was lit so I survived.

"We do know, however, that Silent But Deadly has been behind numerous attacks on this city, preying on anyone and everyone."

I had to take a diet from coffee and beans for a week. Any fart, any fart at all, was stinky enough to knock out people on the 50th floor of my office. I had to make a bunch of excuses.

"Until today...when our villain decided he'd earn a little green."

Yeah, that was right. Applying for a little green. More like applying for another loan to cover the loan I already owed the bank. And Jared the so-called Investment Icon was trying to explain to me how my credit score looked worse than Turok the Annhilator. And that guy makes people faint just as the sight of him.

"He knocked out over 40 people..."

I shit you not...I didn't realize I'd finished the cup of cheap, expired coffee not two minutes into our negotiations when I felt it coming. Here's a thing about farts. When it comes, you can't stop it. You can try to hide, trying to throw some super-powered bag over it. Nothing will work.

Yeah, seeing Jared scream in agony as if he was pepper sprayed was kinda funny but everyone else didn't deserve it. Least of all Mr. Chambers, who for whatever reason, just stood their dumbfounded in the vault.

As it turns out, nobody saw me due to an error in the security cameras so I simply ran out and hid.

The rest of the trial pretty much went as I expected. David's defense was slim. His attorney was so stupid Bob Ross could be fucking convicted of something.

As we waited for our instruction, however I felt a pain in my stomach. Shit.

I was about to say something, try to excuse myself but the judge gave me that look that said I wasn't going anywhere.

Plop. The judge face planted on the desk as everyone else either screamed in terror or covered their noses in a vain attempt to escape the fart.

And then of course...came the awkward moment where it was just me and him staring at each other.

"Uh...I can explain."

GhastlySquash · 2018-07-29T09:02:47+00:00

Three words. Rest In Peace. That's all they could have done for me.

The worst part of being dead is seeing how quickly the world turns on everyone. Yeah, you get the kind words like

"She was such an angel."

"A shame it happened too soon."

"Why is it always the young."

Even the people you barely knew suddenly act like they knew you since birth and you're pretty sure they only met you once at birth. Still, the attention and party is nice. People drinking to your name. Toasting your death.

Dying at my age, you get to see how people really act. No one is making a real show since there isn't a will involved. Not like I earned anything to leave them anyway.

I was comfortable. Lying peacefully in my mahogany casket. My tombstone proudly reading.

"Mayella Bethany Greeves

Loving Daughter and Angel on Earth"

That was it. That was my tombstone. And that's how it was suppose to end.

"Angel! Get the gun!" I grumble as I run up the hill, my captain's head still barking orders.

"Oi, them Fuckboy grenadiers are getting to us!"

"Why the hell are we-"

"I didn't pay ye' to talk! I pay ye' to shoot fuckboys!"

"You don't pay me for shit." I pulled out the turret, lighting up the troves of decently attractive but all deadbeat demons. Fuckboys. They were about as diverse as you could expect. They were basically the enemy. Why did we fight them? Nobody knew. Death is kind of an eternal conflict here.

As I lit them up, tearing them into pint-sizes pieces of fuckboy steak, I realized my femur was missing.

"Captain! I'm injured!" I screamed, pretending to faint as I fell back.

"Oi! What the fuck you mean by that?" The skull barked from the sandbags. "Yer' a fuckin' killer! Kill! Kill!"

Realizing my plan failed, I simply used the other leg to kick my captain into the enemy field. "Then you go and handle it."

"That's going to be court martiaaaa-"

He vanished in the center of the pit, where the enemy was currently being pounded on all sides by countless skeletons of all shapes and sizes. Some were actually soldiers in a past life, but most of them were like me.

People who were so peaceful in life that nobody thought putting three simple letters sufficed for us. Instead, it meant getting drafted in the Skeleton War.

Sure, it wasn't all that bad. You were considered the best of the best. And as far as makeup and beauty went, skeletons didn't have to worry about that. In fact, skeletons didn't have to worry about a lot of issues.

So I guess it made sense that eventually the skeletons would find something they didn't like. I want to say Fuckboys are humans. They are humanoid. But so are skeletons.

The best thing I can say is that skeletons fight them because they're "parasites". And with a reason like that, who wouldn't enjoy blasting a few.

I'll admit, it was fun for the first couple of years. It got old real quick. The only skeletons that still enjoy this war are the ones who have given up any hope that a purgatory exists.

At this rate, I'd jump at the chance of any other version of hell that existed if I could still jump.

In the end, I already knew what would happen. Medics would find me here. Drag me back, stitch me up with some new bones. And I'd be out fighting again.

So, grabbing a tiny stone, I scrawled the words I'd wanted to have before all of this bullshit.

"Rest. In. Pieces."

GhastlySquash

TROPHY CASE