Disclaimer: I do not own the machinima series Deus Ex Machina, nor do I own its characters, settings, etc. Those are all property of Jon "DigitalPh33r" Graham. Halo and its related properties such as weapons, armor, etc are property of Bungie Studios and Microsoft.

Author's Note: I started this fanfic back in the summer of 2008, I believe. That's about a year gone by, and thanks to medical issues, a long period of disconnected internet, and of course writer's block, I've only gotten six chapters finished. Well, my latest bout of the Block is gone for this fic, so I'm gonna be back to work, but something's always bugged me about it: the first three chapters of this fic were posted before my good friend TheSpazzo became my beta reader. At this time, however, he's become too busy with Real Life issues to worry about my fanfics, something I completely understand, so I've gone hunting for a new beta.

The redoing of the first three chapters will be the first little run with my new beta, Myzak, who I'd like to thank for giving me a chance. Once the first three chapters are redone, Myzak and I'll get back to work on the main portion of "No Good", which I'll also be writing simultaneously with my Zelda fanfic "Liberty Rock", which helped destroy the writer's block as I'd hoped it would. With that, we're off.

Tough breaks in the neighborhood, a hard case who's up to no good. –AC/DC, "Breaking the Rules" (For Those About to Rock We Salute You, 1981)

Salvation City was enjoying a quiet day, one where it's unbelievably high crime rate was somewhat manageable for the newly formed SCPD. The thirteen customers and seven employees of the First Regional Bank should have been expecting what happened, and some of them did to an extent. As the customers waited in three lines and were serviced by three of the seven employees (the other four were in the back offices), a man in modified green and black Civilian Issue Mark VI armor entered the front door, unnoticed by the sixteen other people in the lobby. He had a large duffel bag strapped over his shoulder, an M6G Magnum was resting on his armor's thigh magnet. His left hand gripped the strap of his bag while his right hand gripped the receiver of an M90A Shotgun between the pump and the trigger guard. Remaining unnoticed, the man slipped into the back offices. He soon returned, ushering the other four employees into the main lobby with his shotgun. A middle aged woman wearing the civilian armor turned to leave with her withdrawal when she saw the man's weapon. She inhaled to scream, but her breath was stolen as the man fired his shotgun into the roof. Some people yelped, most remained silent in shock.

"Everybody on the floor, now," the man commanded. "You three, hands up from behind the counters, and don't try to push that alarm button, or I'll know. In fact, don't even think about it or you'll die." The thirteen customers immediately complied, dropping into sitting positions on the floor, their backs against a wall. Pushing the four office employees onto the floor next to the customers, the man walked up to the desk and placed his bag onto it. "Fill it up with as many-" he began, then cut himself off by raising his Magnum and shooting one of the cashiers in the head, causing several people to scream in horror. "I said, don't even think about it," the man growled at the body before turning to the other two. "Fill this bag up with as many UN Credits as it can hold. Now." he said. One of them (a young man, though one wouldn't be able to tell on sight due to the civilian armor) took the bag and headed for the vault while the other stood in his or her spot and kept his or her arms in the air. It was a her.

"Well, well, Janie Fuller. How're your kids doing?" the robber asked. Janie couldn't explain, but there was something about his voice that was offsetting. Everyone noticed it. It wasn't some kind of voice masking provided by his armor, but it wasn't entirely natural either.

"You know me?" Janie asked in fear.

"Now I do," the man said. "I know every little thing about you." He motioned her to come from behind the counter and join the others. She did so, whimpering in fear. The man then paced patiently before the "hostages", seemingly studying each one. They were all adults, save for one person who was the height of sixteen-year old, the voice whimpering and moaning from the helmet revealed it was a girl. Soon, the other employee came from the vault, holding the very stuffed and heavy duffel bag.

"Thank you," the man said as he took the bag with his left hand, then used his right to raise his shotgun and fire it into the employee's chest, killing him instantly. As the hostages screamed in even more horror, the man put the bag on his shoulder, thus freeing his left hand, and pumped a new shell into the chamber. He then went down the line and shot three of the four employees, leaving only Janie and the manager alive of that group. "You know something Gerald," the robber, who was no doubt a psychopath, addressed the manager, whose sobbing showed he obviously wasn't taking this situation very well.. "You're a man of admirable attitude and stance on life. You're a model citizen in a city of filth and crime, a Good Samaritan amongst sinners. And well, you know what they say: no good deed goes unpunished." With that, the psycho pushed the barrel of his shotgun into the manager's thigh and pulled the trigger, almost destroying the limb. "Your punishment is bleeding to death from your femoral artery. Enjoy!" the psycho said joyously, the voice was that of a cruel sick man enjoying a cruel sick joke. The customers and Janie could almost hear the smile in the man's voice, even over Gerald's screams of anguish and suffering.

The psycho dropped the empty shotgun, too impatient to reload it at the moment. He instead drew his Magnum and killed seven of the thirteen customers, each as they screamed and begged for mercy. He reloaded and killed five of the remaining six, leaving only Janie and the teenage unharmed. The girl was now bawling and screaming in fear beyond comprehension.

"Oh, shush, shush," the psychopath said, kneeling before the girl. She stared into the thin, rim-topped visor of his helmet and could imagine the mirth, the sheer enjoyment of the occasion in his eyes. She never considered or imagined what else was in those yes. "Look at the bright side of all this," the psycho said before pointing at her stomach with his left index finger. "Denny ain't gonna find out about Junior until the coroner's done, hell he might not find out at all!"

"H-how d-d-d-did you-" she stuttered, attempting to reply before he fired his Magnum through her visor and splattered everything in her skull on the wall behind her.

He then laughed the most horrible laugh Janie ever heard in her life. He stood and walked towards his shotgun, stopping to bend down and pick it up in his left hand in the same manner he'd held it when he entered. He began walking towards the door and then stopped as if to consider something. He turned around and fired the last round in his magazine into Gerald's shattered leg, causing more pain than before. It was a random, violent action done seemingly only for the hell of it. Placing the Magnum back on his thigh magnet, the psycho placed his empty shotgun on the magnets on the back of his armor. He walked up to a wall, reached into a side pocket of his bag, and retrieved a can of red spray paint. Whistling as he did so, the psycho marked a simple message on the wall.

Just Have Fun

"No, Janie, I'm not going to kill you." he said as he returned the can to his bag. "I'll let you go, but only because there's more fun for you to have. You know those bruises on your daughter's back? Ask your fiancé about those. You guys can have a nice little chat about that. Afterwards, I'll stop by and pay you a visit. Bye!" Waving, the psycho then turned, and walked off as if he were having a particularly fine day, which one could argue he was. He exited the door, and walked off, whistling and unnoticed by the pedestrians who'd grown rather accustomed to seeing modded armor in public.

And so, a new breed of monster was loose in the corrupted streets of Salvation City.