Flood of Darkness

CHAPTER FIFTEEN



...three months ago...



Jack opened his eyes. He had been sleeping for some time. Sensei's training was dwindling out. Ever since their confrontation at the dojo he has been pulling away from Jack. Jack did not know whether this was how Flood training ended or if his master still held a grudge over these past few weeks. It was almost 4 in the afternoon. Dr. Randolph was not in. Jack got his coat on and went for a walk. The street was congested with people. The alleyway was clear. A bright sun lit the hidden urban corridor. But it was still cold out. Jack put his sunglasses on and walked up the block away from the dojo.

He had distracted himself with delusional jujitsu training for long enough. It was time to figure out what he was going to do about Fitzsimons and getting his life back. The Doc said his family was okay. That means Fitzsimons has not gone crazy yet. Either that or he's gone altogether. Jack had to consider all the reasonable explanations. Most of them included the fact that the Storm Harvester still possesses Fitzsimons. Jack knew he was not dead. He knew the Storm Harvester would never quit its search for the Divine Catalyst. And just like it used him to get to it, the unstoppable force would now use Fitzsimons. A lethal combination of sinister intentions and resourceful hosts...the perfect storm of trouble for Jack.

If Dr. Randolph could go and come back without being seen, a trained soldier mastering teleportation should be able to do it with ease. Jack walked down the street. A jeep swerved across the lanes. Three hands with guns came out of the window. Their target was a black man walking down the sidewalk in a long leather jacket and giant golden chain around his neck. He pulled out two guns from his jacket but it was too late. The firing squad gunned him down. All before Jack and other innocent bystanders. One of which was a woman frightened beyond the capacity to move out of the way. Jack jumped for her, shielding her with his back. He screamed in agony as bullets that missed the big leather jacket thug were collected by his back. Jack kept himself from freezing up in pain. He rolled her safely out of the way and the hitmen in the jeep sped off after their target fell.

Jack let her go and checked his own wounds. The bullets were gone and the remaining lacerations were disappearing. He was okay. When he turned back for the woman he found her on the floor. She had been caught by one of the stray bullets. It pierced her abdomen and she was bleeding out on the floor. Jack got down next to her and tried to save her. He pressed his hand on the wound but nothing happened. He tried again, closing his eyes, relaxing his thoughts, and....nothing.

The woman was dead. Jack kept trying to save her. People came out after all the commotion to have a look for themselves. They surrounded Jack who was now trying CPR to get her back. Soon ambulance sirens sounded off. Jack left before they arrived. It was getting dark out. Jack was pissed off. He could not save that woman. She did not have to die. These gangs were out of control. In a dark alleyway, Jack checked his healed wounds. The scar tissue was tightening and expanding. His muscles hurt every day, especially after they were over-exerted. He was finally feeling the effects of Dr. Randolph's diagnoses. Could it be...was he actually going to die? A thought which never crossed his mind while fighting. He assumed it was because of the rush of endorphins in a hectic situation. He always felt better directly after a fight.

Jack got back to his apartment. The whole time repeating over and over again the license plate number of the getaway car. Once inside, he reached under his bed and pulled out a trunk. He opened the giant chest and took out his old army equipment. He strapped the utility belt around his jeans and holstered it onto his belt. He took his Kevlar vest out of his flack jacket and strapped it on over his t-shirt. Jack then took out some eye-black and with his sunglasses still on his face marked himself with urban camouflage. Thick, waving black stripes, only interrupted by the dark glasses. Jack looked at himself in the mirror.

It felt good. Being back in his gear. He even put his boots back on. Jack looked back at his apartment as he stood by the front door. He picked his jacket off the hook and flailed it around as he put it on. The dark coattail made him feel like he was putting on a cape. Jack took his gloves out from the satchel on his utility belt and slowly opened the door. When the coast was clear he crossed the empty street over to the alleyway. Jack climbed the city wall and jumped across the rooftops of the night skyline with disregarded ease.

So started the first night of Jack's new life.
A night that would soon become infamous.
The origin crusade of DarkFlood.

Flood of Darkness

CHAPTER FOURTEEN


...almost five months ago...


The dojo was empty on this hazy day. He sat there, facing the mirrors. Looking at himself, alone with the early morning sun. Sensei greeted him with his traditional sneak attack. The old man flew at Jack with a heavy kick. Jack absorbed the shot, letting Sensei hit him, grabbing his leg and using his momentum against him, tossing him across the mat.

"The Flood knows not impatience..." Sensei foretold, "Use the gifts given to you and absorb, then react. You are the one prophesied about. The one who cannot be killed. And much much more..." Sensei leaped at Jack again. Kick. chop. Jab. Jab. Jab. Kick. Roundhouse. Jack caught the old fighter's kick and slammed in onto the mat. Sensei jumped back up. Jack could swear that he heard his body crack. But the Sensei continued to jump around him on the offensive while he preached, "You are the one legend foretells of, and in the days of 2 Suns shall save the Earth."

Jack stopped for a second, "What was that last part?"

Sensei takes the opportunity to attack, double spin kicking Jack in the chest; knocking him off his feet. The Sensei walked over to him scrambling on the floor. "Don't worry, the times leading up to you are described as the Flooded Days. If the temple of the Flood have actually predicted something of that magnitude, we have something much more to prepare for."

"Is there actually a prophecy or are you just messing with me, Sensei?"

"What have I been teaching you since the day you saved my grandson?"

"Flood technique, Sensei."

"Correct. That is no fairytale. This technique derived from a temple deep in the hills. The Temple of the Flood it was called. They taught an ancient time when forces ruled the world. When the forces began to die out, man would rule the Earth. Until the day when the Earth is reborn and both the forces of old and mankind are propelled into the future."

The Sensei had now settled down and began stretching, preparing for meditation. "Do you wish, Jack Hanover...for me to tell you everything right now?"

"No Sensei. No offense, but I can take only so much 'ancient legend' every day."

"All you need to know for now is they call upon the one who cannot die to bring the world together, and you're not going to be able to do that if you're just fighting me every day..."

"Why should I protect them? What would they do for me if my life was is in the gutter?"

"You mustn't think like that."

"How must I think, Sensei?"

"Think what you want, Jack Hanover. Know this...If you never want to be anything in your life keep going on... excusing your actions at the mercy of others."

"You really know how to tell it, don't you, old man!"

The meditation was cut short. Jack looked up in his prone, at ease stance. Sensei was coming down hard on top of him. Jack was punched twice in the face, a penalty for being caught off guard. Tossed forward and kicked back to the ground. Jack got to his feet sliding across the mat. Disrespect was not tolerated inside the dojo.

Sensei swung back around low on Jack, both feet kicking in his knee, shattering his knee cap. Jack fell on the broken knee, and struggled to get back up. The pain was not subsiding. Every time he got hurt his threshold was not diluted by his altered state. The Sensei kept him on his wounded knees with a couple more jabs to the face before he relented. Jack laid beaten on the mat, trying to gather enough strength to take a defensive stance.

Sensei walked away from him and Jack stared up from the floor. He was done. Too exhausted from all the training. Now he knew, when he gets physically tired, he cannot heal himself as quickly as he can normally. "I Learn somethin' new every day about myself, Sensei."

"Good, Jack Hanover."

The Sensei knew exactly what he was doing, what he did not know...was that he would help one of the greatest members of the human race fulfill his destiny and become a global savior. He blindly followed the teachings of the Flood jujitsu, but never thought the prophecies of old would occur in his time.

A Flood is coming, one they say is unstoppable, and it will change the world forever.