The Game

[Jackson]

A few weeks ago in a alley in Dockside

There was a shadow in a alley in Dockside, and out of it Jackson Payne stepped. His gunblade was already in hand, and his phone in the other. Automatically he started to look about the area while the gauntlet on his phone hand glowed brightly. He was ready for a fight, but first he needed to find it.

It was hard to tell the exact situation... a winter fog had rolled in from the docks in response to a fluctuation in temperatures, leaving everything in a haze... but it looked as though Jackson could make out one of those stark white puffy jackets that Pawpov's Hailstorm wore to blend into winter terrain. They looked to be keeping cover behind a building wall... perhaps there was a shooter? Everything was so quiet…

That was around when he saw the jacket, and was about to step forward. Though he knew Pawpov, and if this was bad enough for her to send a SOS he needed to be ready. So he simply chucked his phone, which landed close to the jacket with a clatter, and when it landed it started to glow brightly, a rune carved on its back glowing. And with his phone gone he could already start setting up spells. So he did, a fire bolt starting to form in his empty hand.

The preparations made sense! Perhaps a lack of self-preservation, considering he didn't take cover himself... but who knew what was out there! The phone clacked across the cobblestone alley, landing right next to the soldier... but they made no movement to pick it up. Were they pinned down that badly? If so, it might be prudent for Jackson to find cover too.

They weren’t moving….. this was odd, perhaps they were pinned, but in that case. So with a simple snap of his fingers with the fire bolt hand, it went out. As it did his outline, and image started to blur. It fades away into the haze, simply using the haze to amplify the spell. Knowing he's probably safe from a gunman, he started to make his way slowly, and carefully to the troop, eventually getting close enough to touch her.

Upon that touch, the trooper - whom Jackson recognized as one of the medics that were so johnny-on-the-spot to help Haru - slumped to the side, into the alley that she appeared to be avoiding. She was dead... her lifeless body clutching what appeared to be a manual in her arms. Her face had streaks of tears through the super short and fine hair that covered her face. An intense burn could easily be found on the back of her head, pushed halfway through her skull. The flop of the body echoed in the alleys... and then, once again, silence.

Jackson reacted, and caught the body, but automatically winced, and forced himself from letting out a cry. Someone killed her… and this the proof he needed that someone is dying, so with a really heavy heart, rage in it, and my red eyes he set her down gently onto the pavement. Making sure that the body won’t get ruined any further, since he will make sure this solider gets a proper funeral. Now with with the body at his side, he then summoned a fire bolt to his hand, unblurred himself, then with gunblade hand, and a fire his eyes he shouted.
“Hey! New victim over here! Why don’t you come, and get me too! I know you’re still probably here! So come on! Let’s see what you have!” he was ready to kill whoever did this, but he knew he wasn’t going to find them in all likelihood, so he was just going to have to make them come to him.

The only response to his words was the ghostly whistling and moaning of a breeze cutting through the alleys. It appeared as though the wind was picking up, threatening to dismiss the thick fog. The Sun was higher now, too... burning away the heavy cloud cover. It was actually very nearly blinding as the light shot through the haze.

Silence.

Jackson was forced to turn his head to the side to avoid being blinded by the light, but he knew something was still up. So he was on a hair trigger, ready to chuck the fire bolt, and ready to dodge an attack if it came. Though the silence was uncanny… What happened, and who did this?

Nothing came. Nothing changed... until a loud THUMP sounded directly behind him, wet and heavy... with crunches...

He quickly moved away to make room, and then turned around. Pointing his gunblade at it now that it was a few steps away. Not automatically shooting since it might be a soldier that survived.

It was a soldier... but they had not survived. It was one of the snipers... and they appeared to have fallen, probably from either the roof or the third story window above. they were a sorry, bloody sight... their features mangled... but they had a similar high intensity burn... only theirs was right in the center of where their face used to be...

When he saw the body he knew they weren't alive. So just trying his best to avoid vomiting as he looked up to where they fell, having a bad feeling in his gut…. He hasn't been toyed with in so long…. He shoved those thoughts down, and continued to look about. Doing something that should have been done a while ago, letting his magic senses go out. Just trying to find any traces of living beings.

For two blocks in every direction... nothing. As he moved to take in those magical senses... while in shock, sick to his stomach, full of fear and concern and empathy... Jackson would find himself tripping over something, falling to the ground with a thud. Another gust of wind and the fog was lifting out of the alleys...

“Ho-“ Was all that was said before a “Thud!” He let out a light groan before rolling away from whatever tripped him. Having dropped my gunblade, he simply pointed a finger gun at it, the tip of his index finger glowing.

There... laid out in the street, purple eyes staring wide, a permanent look of anger, fear, sadness, frustration on her face... was Commissar Ekaterinya Pawpov.

Dead.

Her pistol was still clipped to her belt... but her sword was clattered about a foot away from her. Her hands were gripped on the wound on her chest; a nickel-sized hole scorched straight through her heart. The coat and clothes and flesh and bone and organs had cauterized from the intense heat that had to have penetrated her. In one of her hands, gripped tight enough that the plastic frame had cracked, was her phone.

Jackson, right at this moment, was the only living being in two square blocks... and that sensation, for being in such a population-dense city... was suffocating.

He had to resist the urge to vomit again… but it was hard…. he sent her to this area of the city, he was the on-…… no, not now. There is something in the city that is capable of killing a team of army specialist. This meant that he had to find out who did this, and why before he lost his shit… He will give them all a proper burial, and avenge them, that he can promise them….. though that’s when a thought about something happened, maybe he could find a clue as to what happened. Getting up, and making his way to her body, eyes glowing a mix of red, and blue as he looked, but pushing down all of his emotions for the time being he started to check her pockets, just trying to see if they would have any clues.

Indeed, there appeared to be a gilded envelope, complete with a red wax seal on the back stamped by the sigil of a sniper scope. In stunning calligraphy, the envelope read:

From: Your Fondest Admirer

To: Minister Jackson Payne


A blink as it was read, no….. no…… he was done with being toyed with…. It was left behind in Texas. Yet this letter….. it….. it proved him otherwise. So ignoring every cell of his body screaming at me to run, and hide in the deepest hole he could find, yet he simply opened the envelope, and pulled out the letter. Knowing that by doing this he played right into their hands. Knowing that the moment he was finished reading the game will begin.

If you want to find the minister
I know where he is
I know where he is
I know where he is
If you want to find the minister
I know where he is
He's pinning another medal on his chest
I saw him, I saw him
Pinning another medal on his chest
Pinning another medal on his chest
If you want to find the minister
I know where he is
I know where he is
I know where he is
If you want to find the minister
I know where he is
He's sitting in comfort stuffing his bloody gut
I saw him, I saw him
Sitting in comfort stuffing his bloody gut
If you want to find the minister
I know where he is
I know where he is
I know where he is
If you want to find the minister
I know where he is
He's drinking all the company rum
I saw him, I saw him
Drinking all the company rum
Drinking all the company rum
If you want to find the soldiers
I know where they are
I know where they are
I know where they are
If you want to find the soldiers
I know where they are
they're hanging on the old barbed wire
I saw them, I saw them
Hanging on the old barbed wire
Hanging on the old barbed wire

A blink as he finished reading it.. he has a feeling this person doesn’t actually like him, but this is odd. They seem to know too much about him, yet they said drinking all the company rum….. this person looked insane, but this was pre thought out. Hell this a a good poem.. a scary one, but good, when he finished reading it he carefully put it back in, and stood up. Taking a breath in before saying.
“This poem, while nice, is not that accurate…. I also doubt you like me all that much, but I want you to know I won’t take this lying down. You won’t kill me, or ruin me. I’ve been through too much to die now, and you just gave me another reason to fight. I will avenge these women, and I will make sure the last thing you see is this damn letter…… You want to play a game, then let’s play.” he said to no one, just saying it to the air, but he knew somewhere, somehow this person heard him. And he hoped they did, because this won’t let this stop him, not for his sake, but for those who died…. Her Pawpov, and her troops….. speaking of which he summoned a burner phone, and started to make a call, knowing that if he'll give Pawpov, and her troops one last thing it’ll be a proper burial.

As the haze lifted, it revealed the grisly spectacle in full. The entire company appeared to be taking a short break from their patrols to crack into MREs... cigarettes... some vodka. They were relaxing... trying to make the day run just a bit smoother, when all of... this... happened. How they were caught off guard, it was hard to say. Some appeared to have died with their cigarettes between their lips and others readying food, caught completely unawares... others, like the medic and Pawpov, were in mid-response... and others still, like that sniper, were trying to ready themselves to try and find the threat. in the distance with the sun passing slowly behind it, the Dockside Hospital loomed over the warehouses like a grim monolith, mocking Jackson's inability to save the Nyaman Company. On the back of the letter, written in much much messier writing - almost scratched on the page - was one final message.

TICK-TOCK

MINISTER JACKSON PAYNE

When he saw the sight he couldn’t help, but feel it. These were good people who died because they were close to him, trying to take a break…though right before the letter was fully back in the last few words were noticed, noting them, and just knowing that the game has started. So he simply called another troop, and told them what has happened, pain hidden in his voice as he stayed strong. Not for himself, but for them…. He knew that he was now in a game, and he didn’t like it. Though the only way to escape a game is to play it, so in the words of Saw, let the game begin.