Drowned City Fanfic
[chapter one Jamesons perspective]
Jameson ran. He ran, ignoring the searing pain in his shoulder and the pounding in his head. He ran, ignoring the cogs and gears next to him complaining about a system overload with a small hiss of steam and a blaring alarm. He ran from the imperial forces who were hunting him. They said that he had committed a crime. Not so much as a crime than a protest though, but, that was how the empire worked. They killed anyone who defied them. They fought the many armies and warlords that ran their own areas. They fought the Tulane Company, The Xiao company, The Winston company, and wolfpack. They didn't know, but Jameson was part of wolfpack, he didn't know either, though.
He was a sleeper spy. But of course he thought he was a "concerned" citizen, oh how wrong he was. He punched the comm button on his wrist and shouted "Commander Rolfe, I've been compromised, I need reinforcements immediately!" Rolfe was a mysterious man, he had approached Jameson as if he knew him and offered him a position in a revolt against the empire. Jameson had accepted and now was running for his life.
Jameson ran waiting for a response, he ran past the puddles of mud on the ground and past the many machines that were mounted on the wall and that hung from the ceiling. After what seemed like hours his comm erupted in static, then Rolfes voice sounded out in his ear "James- lost posit- nee- evacu-" With a quick pop the comm went out and began to smoke, some dumbass must have made it.
Now it was dead silent, well, except for the footsteps of him and his assailants. He realized that he had been abandoned by his group, swearing under his breath he ran towards the next service tunnel. Turn left, go down 4 rooms, go in the 5th room. Past the reactors, into the stairwell of Hope Tower, then out the door. It would have been simple, if you ignored the fact that you had two dozen imperial soldiers after your ass and a dozen more blocking your path. "Shit." Jameson said under his breath, pulling out his handgun and firing blindly behind him. He was running out of breath, running into the engine room, then up the staircase. Jameson barely had time to scream before a pipe came down on his head as he entered the stairwell.
Days. Hours. Minutes. How long had it been? Jameson wasn't sure, he woke up on a cold dark surface which had soft tendrils that felt like mold growing on it, Then an exasperated voice that seemed to echo off the walls said "You like it? It's your new home, so you better" Jameson said nothing instead he clenched his hand into a fist and raised his middle finger and pointed it up at where he assumed the man was. The man replied with a cough then he lit a cigar. "Welcome to hell, By the way, I don't give a shit how you feel, I'm Lewis by the way. I need to know where your leader is. Will you be a good little rebel bitch and tell me?"
Jameson only could listen, his throat felt like sand, his shoulder felt like it was on fire and his head felt like someone just crapped on it then hit it with a metal rod. He could barely reply with a "Fuck you" but he did. Lewis just laughed and slapped Jameson on the face causing more pain to be inflicted. Then he said "What did I ask you? Now tell me like a good boy". Jameson had made up his mind, though. He didn't say anything even when Lewis hit him again. Jameson had heard of the empires leader. A nutjob killed named Tool. His rebel group didn't go near Tool or his palace. They were scared as hell. Lewis said "Fine, don't talk." Then, as he walked off, Jameson heard a clanging in the room Lewis walked off to, he thought that someone had launched a rocket or fired a chaingun, but a few seconds later Lewis returned, carrying a large object. He snickered a bit and walked up to Jameson.
Jameson could smell whiskey and smoke on the man's blemished face, he was obviously not a majorly ranked soldier, but he still acted like one. He whispered, right in Jamesons face "I have a surprise for you, since you won't talk." Then he opened the case that he had and produced a machete from inside it and raised it above Jameson. Jameson was scared as hell, but he didn't show it. Soon enough Lewis pulled the machete down yelling "GOODBYE REBEL BOY!"
Jameson closed his eyes and flinched, waiting, but all he heard was a loud clang and metal falling then and enraged "WHAT! WHO ARE YOU! BUT YOU'RE A LEG-" all of a sudden Jameson heard a scream and a thud then heard a deep voice say "A shame that you disobeyed my order." Jameson felt his bonds being loosened and heard a light click on. Above him loomed a giant doglike creature who wore a trench coat and epaulets. He decided to stay on his platform and whisper "Holy shit. You're Tool."
A low guttural sound echoed from the creature's throat and produced what sounded like a growl "Indeed I am. This soldier did not give you an honorable fight, and in return I didn't give him one. You were mistreated by your captors, something I don't tolerate. You may go free, you have my word, I'll see you on the battlefield, soldier." Jameson couldn't believe it, Tool was right there, in front of him, and wasn't ripping him apart, he was just letting him go. Jameson replied "T-th-thanks" and Tool nodded in approval "Go, now."
Jameson got up and ran without hesitation. He wasn't sure where he was, but he knew he had to escape. He ran into the room Lewis must have gotten the machete from and threw open the nearest cabinet. He needed a weapon, and just to his luck it was filled with empire grade guns and armor. Jameson grabbed what he could and threw it on as quickly as he could, then he ran onward, looking for an escape.
He managed to get about a mile through the catacombs before running into an imperial patrol unit. Without hesitation he raised his gun and fired. The squad immediately scattered and returned fire. He already took down the captain and one of the soldiers but the radioman and the machine gunner were still alive and more than willing to kill something. Jameson was pinned, so he took what seemed to be a grenade. It was different than a standard grenade but he had to remember, this was the empire, they had better technology. He pulled the pin, and threw it at the enemies.
For some reason, they panicked and tried to run but they didn't get far before the grenade blew and they stood still. They grabbed their heads and screamed, it must have been a flashbang of some sort. But then they began to shake. "What… What the hell..." Jameson said to himself. They began to bleed through their noses and ears, and then their skin erupted into flames. They were laying on the ground, their skin melting, and their arms plastered to their faces. Jameson could barely speak "My God…" What ha-have I d-done..." He felt guilt like he could never imagine, he couldn't imagine being microwaved to death by a grenade. The pain must be excruciating, I mean burning alive in a pool of your own melted skin, your eyes blurring as the soft material ran out of the sockets. Your clothes catching fire, forming your tomb, he thought to himself.
He felt a pang of guilt at what this war had done to him but he realized, they would do the same if needed, the Empire were pure savages, right? Most of them ignored their leader's ideals. He tried to make an honorable fight, but they wanted to kill, in fact, they had to in order to keep their sadist side under control. The empire was plastered by a coat of propaganda to make it look nice but really it was the biggest demon in this world of hell. Although, before the Empire, times were worse. All the cities were flooded, children fought, warlords killed civilians and the United States went to shit. Then again, these people weren't much better.
[Chapter 2, Tools perspective]
Tool didn't know why he had let the prisoner go free, maybe he was becoming more human. Not like these savages, but a real, legitimate normal, kind, good, person. Or maybe, his imperial ideals were getting to him. He wasn't sure. He walked down the long hall of his palace, made of pure marble, it stood tall with paintings of him and his government.
The hall had a red carpet with crossed swords knitted on it, the ceiling had grand chandeliers on it and the walls had giant columns which soared over a hundred feet up into the roof and beyond onto the tower, a small city on top of his palace. This tower was for the rich, the millionaires of the empire. It was a safe place to live. But why didn't he live there? Because of a nicer home? Nope. He didn't like large open areas, he wanted a suite instead of a small mansion. He wanted to be near the ground as well, near his command center and his imperial council.
He walked into the command center brusquely with a good posture and a fantastic poker face as he greeted his current commanding officer, Julius Lennon, and the leader of Tulane Company, Jonathan Ross. He was surprised that they were both adults and alive. Most people died at around twenty-five, and they were the lucky ones, the Empire citizens. He stood in front of them, observing. Jonathan Ross was the first to speak, "Hello, Mister Tool, I have your bullets ready, I'm glad we can still do business." Tool could hear the edge of his voice and could smell sweat on his back, Ross was scared. And for good reason too, if he didn't get Tool his bullets, then Tool would kill him and sell his territory.
Ross, of course didn't want to die, and he didn't want his company gone. After all, Tulane was around before the Empire, it was around in the days of the United States, before the floods, before the panicking. The next to speak was Julius Lennon, "Sir, Ross has had raiders steal some of his gunpowder, he may be late on his order." Tool responded, "And who was supposed to protect this gunpowder?" "Me, sir." responded Julius. "It's your fault then, isn't it?" Julius tried to respond, "yes si-", but he was cut off when Tool grabbed him by the neck and lifted him in the air. Julius tried to breath but could only gag and make gasping noises. A look of horror spread across the Tulane Companies's leader's face and he took a step back.
In response, Tool said "Don't worry, you're not the one who failed me, Julius is." With that remark, Tool threw Julius across the room, and his body slumped against the marble walls. Then, Tool turned to Jonathan with a casual look on his face, and he said, "Do not fail me Jonathan, there's no safeguard for you now." "Understood, sir. You will have your bullets soon." stammered Jonathan with the same look of horror plastered to his face. "Good, now get out of my base or I'll have you removed." Replied Tool with a sarcastic look on his face. "Yes sir, goodbye now." Replied Jonathan as he practically ran out of the room. A few seconds later, a crackle of static echoed across the the base and a rough voice said, "Soldiers reported dead in catacombs. Be on the lookout we have 20+ KIA's reported and over 150+ missing persons." Tool looked down, then up again. The soldier he released was causing chaos. "Cancel the search." he said with a small smile. A bewildered look appeared on the command center crew's face's. "Sir?" one of the officers said. "What?" Tool said with a larger and larger smile widening on his face. "Sir, why are you smiling?" The officer asked. "Officer, shut the hell up before I make you into lunch." The officer stayed shut after this remark and went back to work. Tool began to laugh. The man he released was a good soldier. An expert. But next time they next met he would be left to drown in his own red, coppery blood.