Post by Tim E. Vortex on Aug 25, 2011 19:45:01 GMT
I had just received word of my opponent for the upcoming edition of Live-Wire. It is important to know that I have hitherto never hit a woman. That's not to say that the female of the species are inferior in any way; however, I like to maintain my attribute of being a perfect gentleman. Needless to say, the match was already booked and I had been assigned yet another new addition to the roster: Desiree Silva. Naturally, Michelle would have found this hilarious, and so I made my way to her flat in Scotland. I eagarly burst through her door.
"Michelle!"
I bellowed to no avail, garnering no reply. I checked each room in turn, yet found nothing. Upon entering her bedroom, I couldn't help but notice her mobile phone that rested on her otherwise empty dressing table. I slowly approached the cellular device and clutched it desperately against my breast, fearing for my good companion's safety.
"I've been gone for two minutes and you're already going through my stuff. Bet if I was any longer you'd be rummaging through my knicker draw."
I swiftly dropped the phone and span on my heel to see Michelle lurching behind me with her arms firmly placed on her hips. Something was wrong. She didn't appear to be in full form; she was almost... translucent. I slowly outstretched my hand towards her pale face, hoping sincerely it would take my stroke, but my suspisions were confirmed - my hand went straight through.
"Oh, my dear. What's happened to you?"
"I'm dead, you mellon!"
"I have to say, you're taking the news well."
"Well, I’m trying not to think about it. Besides, y'know what they say. You have to laugh, otherwise you'll c..."
Michelle was cut off by the sound of her insufferable ringtone. We both darted out eyes to her violet Blackberry before trading glances to each other. Granted, to you this would have no attachment, but in the year that I had known her, Michelle's phone had not once received a telephone call. She was without family and since touring as a member of ring crew for FWF, she had little time to create lasting relationships with anyone. She gave me the nod and I took the phone into my hand again. Shaking, I answered with a whisper.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Vortex. We have Michelle."
Returned a familiar voice. It was not long ago where I was kidnapped by an organisation known as E.N.I.G.M.A. And yes, I realise the assumed coincidence that their name directly links with the 'Enigma' prophecy I was given at the start of this adventure. This organisation was headlined by a woman named Miss Noir, and due to the harshness of her tone, I recognised it was her whom I am currently engaging.
"She's perfectly safe... for now anyway."
The phone went dead. I reached into my pocket to retrieve my watch before positioning the hands.
"Don't tell me you're going there. It's a trap, Timothy. I'm already dead, done for, no more."
"Don't be so dramatic."
"Dramatic? You're talking to a ghost. You should either be very scared or at least show some kind of sympathy."
"There'll be plenty of time for that upon our return, my dear, but in the meantime, I'm expected."
I pushed down the button of my white-gold watch to desend into the void. I arrived swiftly outside of a tall, white building. Taking note of the lake that situated beside, I advanced towards the doors, which to my delight, automatically slid apart for me. Feeling like Moses, I stepped through where I was greeted by a burley fellow.
“Where’d’ya think you’re goin’, mate?”
My eyes darted to the gun that was oh-so-obviously surfacing from under his jacket.
“Well, erm... mate. I have a special delivery for Miss Noir. She said to just go straight up to her.”
“And what are you delivering?”
“Well, it’s, erm... it’s a p-p-parcel.”
“A parcel?”
“That’s correct.”
“And where is this parcel?”
The term “bastard” sprang to mind.
“It’s a secret.”
“Nice try, pal.”
“No, really. I’ll let you in on it, but we have to be quiet.”
I whispered. The large man offered me his ear and I crept forward. Unfortunately for him, the only thing he heard was his pistol clicking as I disengaged the safety. He looked at me and I gave him my most dazzling grin before striking him in the side of his temple, knocking him out. I then proceeded to the stairwell. Once upstairs, I caught a glimpse through a door window leading to a large room. Michelle was there; lay out on a rack like a modern design of medieval torture. Naturally, she was unconscious, or dead if you were to believe her. Stood in front of her was Miss Noir, talking to Michelle.
“Think about the vortex, Michelle.”
I tried to eavesdrop more intently, but was distracted by a familiar clicking sound.
“One more step and I’ll blow you’re fucking brains out. You got that, mate?”
Normally, I would have been terrified, but I thought it to be soothing as the Welsh accent always was. I casually put my arms in the air, which I’m pretty sure is the correct etiquette for this situation, and turned round. A beautiful woman stood in front of me; her shoulder length hair was straight and black and her eyes were the brightest shade of blue.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Where are my manners? Timothy Edward Vortex.”
Her jaw dropped.
“Shut up. It is ‘n’all. It’s you!”
“Hey, your company called me. You can’t be that surprised.”
“My, company?”
She asked in confused as she lowered her gun.
“Oh, right, I see. E.N.I.G.M.A isn’t my company. I came from the rift.”
“The rift?”
“You don’t know of the rift. Oh, you really are behind aren’t you.”
“I know of the rift. I just don’t know how to stop it. Sorry, do I know you.”
“Not yet.”
“Och, you don’t have time to mourn my death, but you’ve got time for shameless flirting?”
Spoke the angry Scot as Michelle’s faded figure returned.
“Oh, come my dear.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have much time for anything, Mr. Vortex.”
I slowly rotated my head and looked through the window. It appears during our casual conversation, we had been spotted. Miss Noir stood with her small army; all the members of which were pointing at me and my new Welsh friend. The door opened and the two of us were dragged in with Michelle unseen. She followed and I winked at her, assuring my companion I had a plan.
“To be honest, I’m a little disappointed. I thought you’d be a lot more impressive from what we’ve seen.”
“And what have you seen.”
“We’ve seen what you did on Ignatius Magma... or what you’re going to do.”
I am aware that some of you may not be aware of Ignatius Magma. It was the first planet I landed on when I was spewed out of the space-time vortex. In all honestly, I don’t recall doing anything noteworthy, besides panicking.
“And Michelle? Where does she fit into your plan?”
“She’s just a Guinea pig. The test subject. We’re using her mind to find out everything she knows about you... about the rift... about space and time. Sorry, she had to die. But now you’re here, Mr. Vortex. Just think of what we can learn from you.”
“She killed me to get to you? She’s so clingy.”
“How like a spider you are, Miss Noir.”
“Hmm, quite. Time for you to take your place in my web.”
“Only... it doesn’t work, does it, Miss Noir?”
Interrogated the Welsh woman.
“Excuse me?”
“She’s not dead, is she?”
“I can’t imagine there being many living ghosts.”
“Of course!”
I ejaculated. I don’t believe in ghosts. Never had and it’s extremely rare that I ever will. Therefore, every logical explanation lead me to believe that Michelle was still living.
“Before, you told her to ‘Think about the vortex. Naturally, she would. Tell someone to think of cake and they’ll think of cake. But she wasn’t thinking vortex as in space and time... she was thinking Vortex as in Timothy Edward.”
“It’s a telepathic field. She’s hooked up to that machine... powering it. All that energy rushing to her head; she thinks Vortex and BANG... she’s with Vortex.”
“Oooh, that’s good.”
“Oi!”
“Michelle, what’s 7657 multiplied by 32?”
“What!?”
“Just think. 7657 times 32?”
“I... erm...”
A spark flew from the machine.
“78658 divided by 71? Answer it, now!”
“It’s erm... erm... I dunno. Six?”
“Not even close. What’s the square root of 4636?”
More and more sparks begin to fly from the machine in which her lifeless body was attached to, causing a small fire.
“What are you doing!?”
Miss Noir was scared.
“Oh that is brilliant. He’s overloading the system.”
“System? I’ll system you as soon as I gain consciousness.”
More and more machinery and devices began to explode as Michelle was bombarded with difficult questions, far too complex for her thoughts to focus. It was then that the floor caved in. What I didn’t count on was the room underneath being the one that contained the rift.
“Oh, well done, dickhead.”
Murmured the real Michelle as she came to. The armed men withdrew, fleeing the room in an attempt to escape, but not Miss Noir. She stood, staring me in the face, pointing her weapon at me. The Welsh woman began to attempt removing the cuffs around Michelle’s wrists and ankles.
“So, this is how it ends?”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“Oh, but it does, Mr. Vortex. I know what you’re capable of and you must be stopped.”
She began.
“Funny... I never liked to do simple things. Yet here I am about to shoot you in the head. How boring is that?”
“Ah, but you’re forgetting. Sometimes the simplest things are the most effective. OMG WHAT’S THAT!?”
I pointed behind the even woman and was relieved to know she fell for the trick. She turned around. Confused, she turned back, at which point... I punched the bitch in the face.
“Oh, looks like I CAN hit a woman.”
“Timothy, we need to go.”
“Get Michelle down!”
“There isn’t time. We need to go now. Trust me.”
I did. I trusted the woman I’d never met over my long term, faithful friend, Michelle. Naturally, she wasn’t happy.
“Tim, don’t you dare! Tim!”
The Welsh woman held out her hand. I took one final glance at Michelle.
“You bastard.”
We ran. We ran towards the glass wall at the far end of the room and smashed through it, diving to the outside. I mentioned the lake earlier for good reason. The two of us landed in the water and the rift began to run rampant, swallowing both Michelle and Miss Noir.
Me and the Welsh woman stood at a distance, watching the building. Her hand was still clasped in mine.
“You didn’t even know my name.”
She was right. I put not only my life, but the life of my friend in the hands of someone I didn’t even know the name of.
“Don’t you want to know?”
“Where is Michelle?”
“What makes you think I know?”
“You said you came from the rift.”
“I don’t think Michelle liked me. She did. Oh, and don’t worry... she’s safe. You’ll see her again.”
“Where is she?”
I told her there would be time for mourning.
“I can’t tell you.”
She begins to walk away.
“But I can tell you this, Timothy ...Enigma.”
I smiled. By now, that word was no longer a prophecy in which I feared. I was eager for it to be over and done with.
“So what is your name.”
“Caroline Jones. I know... it’s uber-Welsh.”
“Nice to meet you, Caroline Jones.”
“It will be.”
And with that, she was gone. I still had no idea what the enigma was. I couldn’t understand what damage the rift was going to do. And I didn’t have a clue where to find Michelle. But I knew it was coming. I knew time was running out.
"Michelle!"
I bellowed to no avail, garnering no reply. I checked each room in turn, yet found nothing. Upon entering her bedroom, I couldn't help but notice her mobile phone that rested on her otherwise empty dressing table. I slowly approached the cellular device and clutched it desperately against my breast, fearing for my good companion's safety.
"I've been gone for two minutes and you're already going through my stuff. Bet if I was any longer you'd be rummaging through my knicker draw."
I swiftly dropped the phone and span on my heel to see Michelle lurching behind me with her arms firmly placed on her hips. Something was wrong. She didn't appear to be in full form; she was almost... translucent. I slowly outstretched my hand towards her pale face, hoping sincerely it would take my stroke, but my suspisions were confirmed - my hand went straight through.
"Oh, my dear. What's happened to you?"
"I'm dead, you mellon!"
"I have to say, you're taking the news well."
"Well, I’m trying not to think about it. Besides, y'know what they say. You have to laugh, otherwise you'll c..."
Michelle was cut off by the sound of her insufferable ringtone. We both darted out eyes to her violet Blackberry before trading glances to each other. Granted, to you this would have no attachment, but in the year that I had known her, Michelle's phone had not once received a telephone call. She was without family and since touring as a member of ring crew for FWF, she had little time to create lasting relationships with anyone. She gave me the nod and I took the phone into my hand again. Shaking, I answered with a whisper.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Vortex. We have Michelle."
Returned a familiar voice. It was not long ago where I was kidnapped by an organisation known as E.N.I.G.M.A. And yes, I realise the assumed coincidence that their name directly links with the 'Enigma' prophecy I was given at the start of this adventure. This organisation was headlined by a woman named Miss Noir, and due to the harshness of her tone, I recognised it was her whom I am currently engaging.
"She's perfectly safe... for now anyway."
The phone went dead. I reached into my pocket to retrieve my watch before positioning the hands.
"Don't tell me you're going there. It's a trap, Timothy. I'm already dead, done for, no more."
"Don't be so dramatic."
"Dramatic? You're talking to a ghost. You should either be very scared or at least show some kind of sympathy."
"There'll be plenty of time for that upon our return, my dear, but in the meantime, I'm expected."
I pushed down the button of my white-gold watch to desend into the void. I arrived swiftly outside of a tall, white building. Taking note of the lake that situated beside, I advanced towards the doors, which to my delight, automatically slid apart for me. Feeling like Moses, I stepped through where I was greeted by a burley fellow.
“Where’d’ya think you’re goin’, mate?”
My eyes darted to the gun that was oh-so-obviously surfacing from under his jacket.
“Well, erm... mate. I have a special delivery for Miss Noir. She said to just go straight up to her.”
“And what are you delivering?”
“Well, it’s, erm... it’s a p-p-parcel.”
“A parcel?”
“That’s correct.”
“And where is this parcel?”
The term “bastard” sprang to mind.
“It’s a secret.”
“Nice try, pal.”
“No, really. I’ll let you in on it, but we have to be quiet.”
I whispered. The large man offered me his ear and I crept forward. Unfortunately for him, the only thing he heard was his pistol clicking as I disengaged the safety. He looked at me and I gave him my most dazzling grin before striking him in the side of his temple, knocking him out. I then proceeded to the stairwell. Once upstairs, I caught a glimpse through a door window leading to a large room. Michelle was there; lay out on a rack like a modern design of medieval torture. Naturally, she was unconscious, or dead if you were to believe her. Stood in front of her was Miss Noir, talking to Michelle.
“Think about the vortex, Michelle.”
I tried to eavesdrop more intently, but was distracted by a familiar clicking sound.
“One more step and I’ll blow you’re fucking brains out. You got that, mate?”
Normally, I would have been terrified, but I thought it to be soothing as the Welsh accent always was. I casually put my arms in the air, which I’m pretty sure is the correct etiquette for this situation, and turned round. A beautiful woman stood in front of me; her shoulder length hair was straight and black and her eyes were the brightest shade of blue.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Where are my manners? Timothy Edward Vortex.”
Her jaw dropped.
“Shut up. It is ‘n’all. It’s you!”
“Hey, your company called me. You can’t be that surprised.”
“My, company?”
She asked in confused as she lowered her gun.
“Oh, right, I see. E.N.I.G.M.A isn’t my company. I came from the rift.”
“The rift?”
“You don’t know of the rift. Oh, you really are behind aren’t you.”
“I know of the rift. I just don’t know how to stop it. Sorry, do I know you.”
“Not yet.”
“Och, you don’t have time to mourn my death, but you’ve got time for shameless flirting?”
Spoke the angry Scot as Michelle’s faded figure returned.
“Oh, come my dear.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have much time for anything, Mr. Vortex.”
I slowly rotated my head and looked through the window. It appears during our casual conversation, we had been spotted. Miss Noir stood with her small army; all the members of which were pointing at me and my new Welsh friend. The door opened and the two of us were dragged in with Michelle unseen. She followed and I winked at her, assuring my companion I had a plan.
“To be honest, I’m a little disappointed. I thought you’d be a lot more impressive from what we’ve seen.”
“And what have you seen.”
“We’ve seen what you did on Ignatius Magma... or what you’re going to do.”
I am aware that some of you may not be aware of Ignatius Magma. It was the first planet I landed on when I was spewed out of the space-time vortex. In all honestly, I don’t recall doing anything noteworthy, besides panicking.
“And Michelle? Where does she fit into your plan?”
“She’s just a Guinea pig. The test subject. We’re using her mind to find out everything she knows about you... about the rift... about space and time. Sorry, she had to die. But now you’re here, Mr. Vortex. Just think of what we can learn from you.”
“She killed me to get to you? She’s so clingy.”
“How like a spider you are, Miss Noir.”
“Hmm, quite. Time for you to take your place in my web.”
“Only... it doesn’t work, does it, Miss Noir?”
Interrogated the Welsh woman.
“Excuse me?”
“She’s not dead, is she?”
“I can’t imagine there being many living ghosts.”
“Of course!”
I ejaculated. I don’t believe in ghosts. Never had and it’s extremely rare that I ever will. Therefore, every logical explanation lead me to believe that Michelle was still living.
“Before, you told her to ‘Think about the vortex. Naturally, she would. Tell someone to think of cake and they’ll think of cake. But she wasn’t thinking vortex as in space and time... she was thinking Vortex as in Timothy Edward.”
“It’s a telepathic field. She’s hooked up to that machine... powering it. All that energy rushing to her head; she thinks Vortex and BANG... she’s with Vortex.”
“Oooh, that’s good.”
“Oi!”
“Michelle, what’s 7657 multiplied by 32?”
“What!?”
“Just think. 7657 times 32?”
“I... erm...”
A spark flew from the machine.
“78658 divided by 71? Answer it, now!”
“It’s erm... erm... I dunno. Six?”
“Not even close. What’s the square root of 4636?”
More and more sparks begin to fly from the machine in which her lifeless body was attached to, causing a small fire.
“What are you doing!?”
Miss Noir was scared.
“Oh that is brilliant. He’s overloading the system.”
“System? I’ll system you as soon as I gain consciousness.”
More and more machinery and devices began to explode as Michelle was bombarded with difficult questions, far too complex for her thoughts to focus. It was then that the floor caved in. What I didn’t count on was the room underneath being the one that contained the rift.
“Oh, well done, dickhead.”
Murmured the real Michelle as she came to. The armed men withdrew, fleeing the room in an attempt to escape, but not Miss Noir. She stood, staring me in the face, pointing her weapon at me. The Welsh woman began to attempt removing the cuffs around Michelle’s wrists and ankles.
“So, this is how it ends?”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“Oh, but it does, Mr. Vortex. I know what you’re capable of and you must be stopped.”
She began.
“Funny... I never liked to do simple things. Yet here I am about to shoot you in the head. How boring is that?”
“Ah, but you’re forgetting. Sometimes the simplest things are the most effective. OMG WHAT’S THAT!?”
I pointed behind the even woman and was relieved to know she fell for the trick. She turned around. Confused, she turned back, at which point... I punched the bitch in the face.
“Oh, looks like I CAN hit a woman.”
“Timothy, we need to go.”
“Get Michelle down!”
“There isn’t time. We need to go now. Trust me.”
I did. I trusted the woman I’d never met over my long term, faithful friend, Michelle. Naturally, she wasn’t happy.
“Tim, don’t you dare! Tim!”
The Welsh woman held out her hand. I took one final glance at Michelle.
“You bastard.”
We ran. We ran towards the glass wall at the far end of the room and smashed through it, diving to the outside. I mentioned the lake earlier for good reason. The two of us landed in the water and the rift began to run rampant, swallowing both Michelle and Miss Noir.
Me and the Welsh woman stood at a distance, watching the building. Her hand was still clasped in mine.
“You didn’t even know my name.”
She was right. I put not only my life, but the life of my friend in the hands of someone I didn’t even know the name of.
“Don’t you want to know?”
“Where is Michelle?”
“What makes you think I know?”
“You said you came from the rift.”
“I don’t think Michelle liked me. She did. Oh, and don’t worry... she’s safe. You’ll see her again.”
“Where is she?”
I told her there would be time for mourning.
“I can’t tell you.”
She begins to walk away.
“But I can tell you this, Timothy ...Enigma.”
I smiled. By now, that word was no longer a prophecy in which I feared. I was eager for it to be over and done with.
“So what is your name.”
“Caroline Jones. I know... it’s uber-Welsh.”
“Nice to meet you, Caroline Jones.”
“It will be.”
And with that, she was gone. I still had no idea what the enigma was. I couldn’t understand what damage the rift was going to do. And I didn’t have a clue where to find Michelle. But I knew it was coming. I knew time was running out.