Roleplayer Guild - Roleplay Forum

Chapter One: Introduction

Hover vehicles that travelled across the futuristic streets of Gridlock City lined up in a seemingly endless snake down the highway; their lights shining along with the highly fluorescent metropolis. The people showed their discontent of the traffic jam by yelling out curses from their car window, and unified honking of their car horns. Some people even bothered to walk out from their vehicles to try to get a peek of the situation at hand. A cloud of smoke, and a blazing hovercar sprawled across the highway upside down was being investigated by a news reporter, and her crew; interviewing the witnesses to the horrible 'accident'. While further down the highway was a large black hovertruck flipped on it's side, heavily dented with a cargo container seemingly ripped from it's restraints to the truck, and sitting in the middle of the road with a gaping hole that looked it was ripped open with some kind of set of claws. Beings chained together with glowing purple chains walked solemnly from the container as they were ordered to do so by the slave traders. Were they injured in the accident? It didn't matter. They were nothing but cargo anyway. Men, women, the elderly, and even children....All marched to the side of the road by traders armed with stun guns who were more than willing to zap those who didn't or couldn't cooperate.



"Damn fool! Who the hell do you think you are, huh?! Know your place!"

A boot planted itself onto the side of Maxus' already gashed head. He grimaced as he felt the boot dig within his wound painfully. His hands, and his feet were both cuffed, but these cuffs weren't ordinary cuffs. They were the electrical cuffs carried by those wretched Goliath bastards; slaves of this country's cruel leader. The bloodied young man couldn't help but to smirk under the trader's boot as he laid on the damp streets of Gridlock City. It was a foolish attempt. Save the Zoanthropian slaves packed into the cargo hovercraft guarded by ten heavily armed Goliath Soldiers with just a mere light cycle, and a switchblade? How moronic.


Red and blue lights from the police vehicle flashed across the dark faces of the police squad who were present at the scene. The commanding officer watched with depression as the investigators zipped up four black body bags of the corpses. They were human....All of this because of some freedom fighting Zoanthropian? Four human lives? Not even one million of those inferior beasts are enough to replace those four innocent people. The Commanding Officer walked over to the pinned down culprit, staring coldly into the fellow's eyes for a moment, and then moving them over to the cycle that laid further down the road. The nightly breeze blew the Officer's gray hair gently, as he began to speak with malice, "So you're the biker Zoan whose been causing so much trouble in the city..." The officer leaned down to pick up a helmet who's visor was completely shattered. He studied it for a moment as he spoke, "Without this on your head, it's almost hard to believe that a young man such as yourself was the one behind all this." The Officer darted his sharp, worn eyes towards the Zoanthropian. "It took guts to do what you did. But nothing would have come of freeing these slaves. You are denied all rights. You have nothing." The Commanind Officer shooed the Slave Trader from the suspect, and kneeled down to Maxus, "freedom for your kind is nothing but a dream in this world..."

The shaken Zoans watched. and spoke quietly to themselves as they awaited their savior's response. With the smirk still remaining on Maxus' lips, he turned his vengeful golden brown eyes to meet the human's. "That's why I'm fighting for the New World..."

Just a reckless rebel. The Officer stood there for a moment, before motioning for the officers to take Maxus away. Lifting up him up roughly, an officer started to throw him in the back of the police hover vehicle, when suddenly a gray hand grabbed the officer's hand; squeezing it with such strength, that it caused the young officer to yelp out in pain. "I'm sorry, but we'll be taking the suspect." A man wearing a gray suit, and a bizarre helmet with a glowing orange visor said.


"What is the meaning of this?" The Cheif asked questionably. "Who do you Goliath bastards think you are? This is my city! So I'm the man whose going to get to ask the questions first! Got that?"


The Goliath turned his head back to his colleagues, and turned back to the Chief, "Is this really your city," he jabbed his thumb to the Zoanthropians lined up against the side of the street, "or their city? Out of all of Astra, Gridlock City is the 3rd highest in Zoanthropian inhabitants."

The Cheif clenched his teeth to the Goliath as he walked up, face to face with the more muscular man. Even standing here, he couldn't tell if the being under that suit was human or not. "Are you forgetting," He spoke with a harsh, low tone, "that I have authorization to interrogate the criminals of this city before anyone else?"


The Goliath looked down to Maxus who was watching the interaction. The two stared at each other for a moment, but finally, the super soldier released his grip on the officer's arm. "Fine. But I really don't see the point in interrogating him." With that said, the Goliath turned around to join his comrades.


The Cheif watched him leave, before letting out a sigh. He wiped his face with his hand; wiping the sweat from his face. "Throw him in..." Another officer came, and relieved the broken wrist bearing police man of Maxus, and tossed him in the back of the large police hover vehicle. By now there were dozens of newcasters roaming about down the street. "Fucking great..."

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Thank you Sephora!

There was an expected pattern to the varying levels to Gridlock's skyscrapers; whilst the top levels indulged themselves in a computerised and voice-automated lifestyle, the lower levels (or the slum pits, as many called it) were stuck using brass keys and locks. Rufus fumbled with his own office-door that had been nestled discreetly into an alleyway's dead-end, unable to locate the blasted keys in any of his pockets. Surprisingly, he was perfectly calm about the matter, marking it as simple misunderstanding of object placement. He was certain he would find it: and he was right. The small key was hidden in one of his back pockets.

The office was an uncomfortable, dull-ridden location. To give it even a ounce of decency, Rufus had plastered a miscellany of cheap, multi-coloured wallpaper over the grey, metallic walls. It didn't improve its likeability by the slightest, but it made it easier for the eyes. Trailing his way past a maze of tower-high book piles, Rufus Garside made his way towards an ornate desk; a desk that had been ruined by years of neglect and woodworms. He dusted it off with the back of his hand before sitting by it to place the shopping bag on its surface.

Inside the bag there was nothing important; no, all it was was a tasteless curry from the nearby market to quench his hunger. The detestable hum of broken ventilation left no words of silence, and metallic blinds allowed in beams of synthetic light. As Rufus greedily fed himself, he glanced over a open book about gardening; there was no possible way of partaking in his childhood hobbies, and the closest he could get was a couple of old books from the library he always forgot to return.

Most books in the office included information about gardening; however, there was the occasional book on the biology of himself and other zoanthropians. Unfortunately, they were rare - the government and anybody related to the government brought it upon themselves to burn and disassemble any book, holotape or research on these "non-humans". With this - despite the fact that Gridlock was the third most populous city in terms of Zoans - it was fairly difficult to locate them. Most of them hid in the shadows, just like Rufus.

Though, he did hear through word of mouth about one particular Zoan who fought against the government. It was laughable, for "fight" was such a strong word. How this rebel dealt with his enemies sounded particularly childish to Rufus, but nevertheless, he expected to find him.

He leant in his creaking chair, and broke into a light tune to drown out the ventilation.

Theldur walked down the dark alley. the smell was diguisting, but he still managed to continue towards the dead end. As he walked, more homeless appeared. Theldur couldn't help avoiding them. Though he knew that here, he was safer than ever. Those bloody Goliaths couldn't reach him here, where their vehicles where double the size of the alley.
Theldur reached the dead end, and noticed a little run-down kiosk in a corner. Oddly-coloured fumes where leaking from the cracks in the roof. The colour of the fumes where mirrored in his bright teal eyes. "Excuse me. I was supposed to see Barya here" he said calmly into the broked kiosk window. As soon as he mentioned Barya's name, the people lying in the gutters started whispering. "What message can I take for Barya?" a voice with a jamaican accent sounded from the kiosk. Theldur sighed. "You can tell him I'm not an idiot. Come out, fool" Theldur said. A guise of a man appeared in the broken window.

The man that had appeared was slightly taller than Theldur. He had a thick rasta tied in a ponytail. He had dark skin, and his eyes were dark brown, but with a red tone to them. The man was wearing old clothes, that may previously have been a hooded sweater and jeans. His hands had several scratches and soares on them. "OK, I confess. I am Barya" The man said. "Yes, I knew all along" Theldur replied.
"I was sent to you buy other fellow Zoanthropians, like us. I talked to them about a certain rage-issue. I can only summon my other form in rage" Theldur explained. Barya nodded while saying: "Yes, I have what you need. You see, I have the same problem as you, man. But I am a scientist. Ya, so I invented "rage tags". They give you a ten-minute rage. Ya man, it awsome!". One could see the joy in his eyes as he exited the little kiosk. He was obviously happy for the customer. "Are there any side-effects?" Theldur asked. "No man, o'course not" Barya said, just as confident. "Do not lie to me" Theldur said, and pointed to the soars on Barya's hands. "Man, you are going to purchase a package" Barya said with a sudden, serious tone. Theldur turned his back, dissappointed. Barya sticked a patch to his shoulder, and he started grunting in a wierd manner...

Theldur suddenly saw the homeless cripples rising up and running out of the alley. Theldur turned to see the source of the grunting, and noticed Barya turning into a yak ox. The horns were long and sharp, like spears. The hide was black, and the eyes had turned more reddish, but were still dark brown. Barya, the yak, started charging at Theldur. The yak was very broad-shouldered, so Theldur hadn't got the option af avoiding the thrust. Running out of options, Theldur jumped in panic, and was flipped by the charge to his feet. The pain caused rage in Theldur's mind, and white fur started growing from Theldur's skin. He growled as he transformed into a massive polar bear. The two creatures snarled at each other, and the yak charged a second time. Theldur, now a polar bear, grabbed the horns with his paws, and flipped the yak, making it slide on the coarse asphalt. As Barya rose, his left side was bleeding from the soares Theldur had caused.

Barya was now pretty dizzy, and his next charge missed, and he fell into the now literally run-down kiosk. Theldur tackled right into the wounded body, and the blood of the yak wetted Theldur's pelt. The polar bear clentched its jaws around Barya's neck, and bit as hard as it could. After some moments, a cracking sound was heard, and the yak was dead. Theldur waited for his adrenaline to sink. And after som minutes, he turned human again. He ran out of the alley, now bearing the stench of a corpse. After Theldur escaped the alley, he checked his neclace for any scratches. Nothing. He headed home...

Ariana Saivren let her feet dangle over the edge, sitting on top of the building's flat roof. Her hazel eyes stared down at the street below her, watching the scene unfolding before her.

There had been an accident, that was obvious. The people moving about in their lives below the tall building Ariana sat upon were little ants scrambling around below her. Her mom wasn't poor, that was for sure. But they were both very secretive. Most people didn't even know Mom had a child. They didn't know Ree even existed. And that was for the best. Nobody could know that she was a Zoanthropian; they couldn't trust anyone with that secret.

Ree sighed as she twirled a lock of auburn-red hair around her finger. She couldn't make out very well what the humans below her were doing. The only thing she could clearly recognize were the enormous Goliaths crashing onto the scene. They always made such an unnecessary entrance, with their booming voices and demanding tones. Ree scowled down at them, even though they couldn't see her. She hated them. She hated them all.

Somebody, somebody with short hair and appeared to be young, for they were shorter than the regular officers, was shoved carelessly into a car as more and more reporters and cameras showed up. Ariana assumed that was who caused the accident, who had placed the conspicuous gashes in the black hovertruck. Must be another Zoanthropian.

Her teenaged mind wandered to a rumour that had been spreading about the neighbourhood. Her mother had informed her that there was a rebel Zoan, a boy of merely eighteen years of age, that was protesting against the government. Well, protesting was a gentle word for it. This boy was a biker, a bad-ass. Basically put, everything mom was steering Ree away from and everything Ree admired.

With an audible sigh, Ree stood. She was on the very edge of the building. One misstep and she would be cascading to her death down below. Her imagination ran away with that thought, and a brief shot of adrenaline shot through Ariana's veins. But it disappeared as soon as it had come, and Ariana stepped back from the edge of the roof, resigned.

Seventeen years old now, and she hadn't even been past five blocks from her home. For no logical reason, Ariana dropped a red strip of fabric she'd had in her hair from the roof. She watched it float down towards the asphalt of the street below, almost wishing it was she that was flying.

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"...horrible accident was said to be caused by a rogue Zoanthropian who acted selfishly to save himself. While the rebel has been captured, four innocent humans were killed in the process. Tragically, we--"

Crack.

Fractures thin and wiry as spiderwebs spread over the pretty anchor woman's face as Taesha Silverhope stepped back from the electronic shop window she'd just broken with a fist.

It wasn't often Tae's temper came over her, and even less she expressed it, even in the smallest representation. But she hated listening to the televised stories, always pandering to the humans. As if they were perfect, innocent creatures to be protected. Protected from the horrible backlash of those unfortunate enough to be gifted and cursed.

Truthfully, the Zoanthropian's were a gentle people. No more inclined to violence and hatred than humans. If the roles were reversed would the human's risk their lives and freedom to save their species? The Zoans were victims of an attack they couldn't reciprocate. When they tried, they were captured, mislabeled, tortured, killed.

The Zoanthropians hadn't chosen their fate, and Tae knew many of them would change if they could. Not Tae. Tae's gift was her boon, and the reason she'd abandoned her sister. It was this curse that would avenge her family, despite what it meant for her. The danger of living with who she was, expressed as it was in her eyes, in her pale skin, in her silver-blonde hair.

She'd learned to control herself well enough. She hadn't changed without willing it in almost a year now. The last time, she'd been cornered in a back alley, and in her fear and panic, had transformed, pummeled in the skulls of her would-be rapists with a blow of her hooves, and flown away into the night.

That was the night she'd found Gridlock. She'd heard of the high population of Zoans here, and of the occasional rogue crusaders. In her heart of hearts, she thought she might help, preserve the memory of her father and sister in good deeds, but really, that was impossible. She just needed a place to live and lie low until she could find Seira.

Besides, strong and fast as she was she was still just a horse with wings. All the other Zoans she'd ever met or heard of were real animals, fighting animals. She was a Pegasus. What good could she do anyone? As far as she knew, she didn't even exist.

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A man dressed in a worm karate gi perked his eyes up as the doors to the police truck swung open. He rose his hand up in protest to the shining lights from news helicopters, and streetlights that cursed his settled eyes. The man was the only other person within the truck, and was sitting crossleggedly with his hands cuffed.

Musa narrowed his eyes in suspicion as they tossed the kid into the back beside him like some lifeless piece of cargo, skooting away with an irritable mumble as the criminal was thrown. "Ridiculous..." Musa sighed to himself, "They can't even show a bit of courtesy, and let a poor man walk himself into the back of a truck peacefully?" A sigh escaped his dry lips, "Not even a bottle of whiskey? Come on...you've got to be kiddin me." He spun himself over to face the young rebel beside him, granting Maxus a mellow smile, "Well, since we're the only ones in this police unit, why don't we aquitance ourselves? Hehe, the names Musa! The strongest, and slyest martial artist around!"

The shattering glass of the window startled Ichiro, and the other customers in the electronic. What the hell was she doing? Ichiro thought with an arched eyebrow to the girl. She seemed rather tough. Especially if she could punch through a glass window with very little effort. He placed the cd back on the shelf with an excited smile. This city amused him. The colorful, seductive lights decorating it's tall titan like buildings, and technology were mindblowing enough to him. But now this girl? Never has he seen anybody as tough as that. A cold shiver ran along his spine just thinking about the thrill of engaging her in a fight. Yet at the same time, he felt a bit of reasurrance from the girl, and this puzzled him. Should he... Nah, push that aside for now! 'Challenge her Ichiro!' He thought.

"Ok..." Ichiro started walking towards the window breaking girl, with his katana secured onto his back by the simple string wrapped over his torso. The fourteen year old Zoanthropian stopped right behind her, and poked her on the shoulder, "Hey! You're pretty good! Wanna spar with me?"

The other customers stared in bewilderment. The two individuals were showcased as being complete freaks. Freaks that needed to be dealt with of course. The store clerk had surely have called some kind of form of police to attempt to subdue the crazy woman, and the outlandish young boy. Staying in the store would only mean trouble for the both of them.

((Just used an NPC real quick to get somthing to happen. If you'd rather I didn't, I can edit.))

Kuro was on the scene for two reasons. Firstly, he was already nearby when the crash occured, and secoundly, he was the senior officer out of all the rookie Goliath's present. Sure, they were all 'equal' in rank.. but in experience, he had the most out of those present currently. He was supposed to observe and direct, nothing more unless given orders or an emergency. Sure, he'd broken these rules a few times, but who wouldn't? Working as a Goliath was never as easy as it looked. Yeah, they got kick-ass equipment and were strong enough to take on five humans at once without breaking an artificial sweat; but there was a negative side. There was never any rest; not that they needed it. Never any down time to enjoy small human pleasures that they were denied because they were, for the most part if not all, robot.

Nobody would really speak up for this matter. None since old man Evans. He wasen't old in looks. Only about 24, but he was definetly old in experience and time served. Hell, if he was human, he would have been about 76. The last thing he ever did was complain that Goliath's needed some vacation time. He wasen't even serious! He was just joking around with a few of his brothers and sisters in arms when he was overheard by Nova..

Nova was strict and in a bad mood that day.

Kuro shuddered at the memory. He was only a fresh recruit at the time. A few weeks into the Goliath program when he watched Evans get demolished. If poor Evans had been human, his blood would have re-painted the wall closest to him three times over..
It was not a pretty sight, even for Goliath standards.
But enough reminising in the past.
The present will only be here for so long.

Kuro had been leaning up against a black armored Goliath vehicle that had transported them here. Built like a tank itself, the damned thing weighed close to three tons and had enough fire-power to level a city block.. Not that they'd really need it..
But somthing had caught his eye..
His enchanced vision had picked it up against the night sky, even with the flashing lights from the cop cars.

A ribbon..
His vision zoomed in automatically, as they were designed to do when they concentrated on somthing just the right amount..
That's what it was.
Of course, with the wind, it was hard to tell where exactly it came from..
He had spotted it just at the top of his vision, so it had to be from somewhere up high..

At it's angle of descent, and factoring in the wind direction and speed, it was from one of the nearby buildings..
One of the middle-floors and up..

He wanted to find out who dropped it.. who was watching the scene from such a high vantage point. It could possibly be a threat.. And who would just randomly drop somthing like that? Maybe it fell; an accident?

Kuro wasen't all too sure..
But as it was, he had to watch the Goliath's present and make sure everything went well..

He currently lacked the justification to look into the owner of the ribbon that had just found it's way to lay and rest onto the cement..
Maybe i'll get lucky and I can spot whoever it was.. That'll give me somthing to do.

Meanwhile, he had to start getting things under-control here.

"Jordans." Kuro spoke calmly once, only to see a goliath that was beside the vehicle the biker zoan was thown into turn around and jog towards him.
"Sir?" He questioned once and waited a few feet away for his command.

"Gather two others and redirect the traffic back down the road, and while you're headed that way see if you 'persuade' any other police officers to do somthing about the flipped cars." He spoke with a smirk, adding emphasis on 'persuade'. The Goliath's form of 'persuasion' was always pushy, to say the least...

Jordan's nodded and swirved on his feet, jogging back down towards the other Goliaths as Kuro watched for a moment..

He couldn't help but have his eyes move back towards the buildings near where the ribbon was..
Who and where are you...

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Sayuri Dekami, 4th Division Captain.
Toyo Akira, Ex 4th Division Vice-Captain.

This is what i'm learning. :]

Tae had been so lost in herself, she hadn't noticed the cracks in the window, spreading, and obscuring the rundown televisions, radios, and microwaves on the other side of the thick glass.

She swore under her breath, glanced around. She wasn't so far off the highway. Stray Goliaths would be around, bored and cocky, as usual. Ad the Zoan population in the city grew, and folks became more on edge about the rebel Zoan, who'd now murdered four humans and been captured...People were already up in arms, and Tae's strange appearance and demeanor didn't help anything. Neither did punch through a plate glass window.

The last thing Tae needed now was a horde of bigoted Goliaths on her tail--no pun intended. She'd had a run in with the half-robot police brutes only once before, shortly after she'd left her sister. She'd been half drunk with grief and rage, and when they jeered at her, she'd attacked them. They'd attacked right back, breaking three of her ribs in the process. The fact that she was and 18-year-old orphan, lost on the streets of a city she didn't know meant nothing to them. She was a Zoan, subhuman, less important than a dog.

A dog, after all, couldn't think for itself, couldn't speak its mind, or exercise its power to crush another race. A dog stayed a dog. A Zoan was more fickle.

Glancing around her at the now staring people, she started to make a dash for it--and then a boy spoke to her. She stared in disbelief. He wanted to fight her? He wasn't a day over fifteen, if that, and far too eager for her taste. Now people were staring at him, too...The pugnacious boy, the silver-haired girl. The man behind the counter in the store was looking more suspicious by the minute.

Thinking quickly, Tae dug in her pocket for a wad of cash. No dinner tonight...but if she'd got caught, it'd be longer than that. She all but threw it at the store manager, huffing a, "Sorry," as she did so. On her way back out the store--because a crowd was forming, now, and the man was dialing a number into his phone--she grabbed the hand of the younger boy, saying loudly, "Thank God! Mother was looking for you all day, come on, we're late getting home!" She tugged on his wrist, boring into him with her blue-and-purple eyes, hoping he'd get the point.

Goliath or not, the police here were not kind to those who caused trouble, and Tae refused to leave a teenage boy in the midst of it all...even if he did appear well armed.

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(i'm pretty impatient so i'm gonna post again xD)

Maxus moaned in pain as his head smacked into the back of the truck from being tossed inside. He started to lift his arm to rub his head, but cursed when he realized the cuffs were still locking his wrists together behind his back. The police officer concentrated his attention on giving him the most despicable stare before finally closing the large metal doors of the truck, swallowing the two prisoners inside in a thick cloud of darkness. The only source of light was the small opening gated with mettalic bars.
Another man was in the truck it seemed. His features were as clear as day for Maxus with his Zoanthropian eyes. A person of black descent, somewhat tall, muscular, and rather raunchy in looks. The things he was saying seemed compeltely insignificant to the young rebel, so he replied to the long winded man with an irritable groan, "Can you just be quiet? Does it look like I care? I didn't ask you for your name, and I'm sure as hell ain't telling you mine."

After the police had had fended off the hoardes of eager news reporters, they got into their cars, and began to leave for the station in the city. The large prisoner truck started on it's way as well, leaving the scene. The Zoanthropian slaves were packed into another slave trade vehicle, and were shipped off to their destination. All that remained were the Goliaths whose massive tank like vehicle rested on the side of the road as hover cars drove past endlessly. What a busy night.


As they drove, Maxus remained totally silent in the back, contemplating the current situation. Surely on the news he was being portrayed as the murderer of four humans. A barbaric beast who thirsted for blood. It made him chuckle. He didn't give two shits about it, for he thought it was amusing how well the Goliaths and the media were deceiving their poor little minds. That giant black monster of a vehicle? It blasted that hovercar all the way across the street in the crossfire, flaming like some kind of fireball. These humans...so naive.
The voices of the driver, and the passenger severed his thoughts. He shuffled slightly as he listened intently.


"Those damn Goliaths. Taking over the city like they own the place..." The driver spoke.

"Well, they are directly linked with Nova Varick himself..." The passenger officer paused to take a sip of his warm cup of coffee. "I mean, wouldn't you like to be in one of those suits? Superhuman strength, and all?"

The driver snickered as he manuevered the hovertruck through the highway towards the exit, "Hell yeah! At least then, I could shoot down more Zoanthropian scum. Oh!" The driver glanced at the passenger with a proud smirk, "The other day, Officer Connley came across a Zoan slave; couldn't be no older than six or seven roaming the streets. Had the collar on and everything."

"Roaming the streets?" The passenger repeated, "How'd the slave escape their trainer?"

"Who the hell knows? But Connley didn't waste a second! He beat me to the shot! The bastard. Taking all the glory for himself." The driver scoffed as he turned the steering wheel, "Yeah, you shoulda saw it. That piece of trash was jerkin, and gasping for breath. It was sickening."

They both broke into a laugh in unison. Fueled by rage, Maxus' teeth sharpened into fangs, as he started to growl ferociously. How could they be so cruel? So evil? His anger only intensified from their laughter. As if spitting on his efforts. Suddenly shooting towards the front opening window with a menacing roar of a lion, Maxus bit down on the bars with his fangs, ripping the metal bars with ease.

The two officers both looked back in shock, and fear. The Hovertruck swerved wildly across the streets of Gridlock City, almost smashing into a small car. "What the hell?! How the fuck did he rip those bars?!"

"Who cares! Just zap him!! Hurry up!!" By now Maxus had ripped through the only thing that was seperating him, and the two drivers. His roared again, and lunged his head through the opening, sinking his teeth into the driver's neck. With a cloggy yell from the driver, blood gushed out from his neck, painting the front with crimson. "H-help....me...."

Maxus ripped, and churned at his neck, his eyes now that of a lion. He bore them into the eyes of the petrified passenger as blood flowed down his mouth as he chewed on the dying driver.


"AHHHH!!!" The passenger screamed. With panic, he started shuffling through his equipment until he found the device he was looking for. Immediately pressing the small button on the key, an electrical charge shocked the wild Zoanthropian, but because he was in contact with the driver, the shock had gotten to the driver as well.

Yelling out with a mixture of an angry roar, and a humanistic scream, Maxus released his grasp of the now dead driver, and fell to the back of the truck in agony. The cuffs! He had to get them off somehow!

The passenger let out another shriek as he desperately reached for the steering wheel. The hovertruck was heading straight for the side of a tall building. People scattered with fear, as it plowed through a car, and crashed directly into the building, sending debris everywhere. Blood splatted against the windshield. It was hell.

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Thank you Sephora!