(Disclaimer: I don't own Zoids, but I own Cross and the Storm Blade Liger.
While the
flashback is going on, the story is boosted up to R (or NC-17, use your own judgment),
but after the flashback it's back to PG-13. I am estimating Bit is about 18 or so now.)
* * *
Bit Cloud walked beneath the canopy of bare-branched trees in the cemetery. The
foggy white sky was streaked with sinister black storm clouds. He was clad in a sky blue
t-shirt, black pants, and boots beneath a light brown trenchcoat. He wore a floppy
brimmed hat that matched the color of his trenchcoat pulled low over his eyes. The echo
of his boots seemed hollow on the flagstone walk. He arrived at a mausoleum near the
center of the cemetery made of black marble, which was faded by the years to a very faint
gray. Bit tried the hammered copper handle and found it locked, which was good, since
he'd locked it the last time he'd left. He reached down his shirt and withdrew a card key
on a long chain. Bending down, he inserted the key into a slit just below the knob. He
heard a tiny beep and he heard a series of machine-gun clicks, indicating the unlocked of
roughly 30 heavy-duty locks set into the steel-reinforced door. He tugged on the 6-inch
thick door and it swung open easily, but it had the feel of a great weight perfectly
balanced. As it opened, the light of the setting sun fell across the plaque on the door. The
plaque read 'Cloud Family Mausoleum'. He opened and shut the quickly, locking it
again. He fumbled in the pitch-black darkness and his fingers closed around a lever. He
threw the old-fashioned light switch lever and the interior of the mausoleum. The interior
of the room was a smooth black-gray marble. The mausoleum was bare except for three
golden plaques on three of the four walls. Bit looked to the fourth wall, which was blank,
and remembered…remembered how that wall had been meant for him.
* * *
~Start Flashback~
Young Bit Cloud, at the fragile age of 13, lay on a Persian Rug in his family's spacious
mansion. His legs were pinned by one of the heavy, solid mahogany footstools that went
with his father's antique chair. He had seen the carnage…the carnage that would haunt
him for the rest of his days. He had seen the four assailants enter the mansion while
watching from his tree house in the front yard. It had been a full thirty minutes before
he'd worked up the courage to go inside, metal baseball bats held at the ready, one in
each hand. He'd first gone upstairs, calling too loudly for his parents. He'd gone into
their bedroom first, and was halted in his tracks. His mother, Laura Cloud, was naked, her
clothes and underclothing tossed unceremoniously around the room, she was tied to the
bed by several of his father's neckties and a piece of Duct tape pressed tightly over her
mouth. Blood was seeping from a bullet hole in her temple, plastering her long, golden-
blonde hair to the cotton white pillow. Blood also seeped out from between her legs,
spreading over the white silk sheets. Jonathon Cloud, Bit's father, lay close nearby, hands
cuffed behind his back, blood still seeping from the many slash wounds inflicted upon his
body, his severed genitals shoved into his mouth. Bit threw up then and staggered out of
the room, using his bats as a crutch. He felt like he would throw up again, so he staggered
into the bathroom just down the hall. Two men clad completely in black were holding his
18-year-old brother beneath the water in the Jacuzzi. Bit screamed and ran downstairs
and into his father's study. A single man followed him inside, also clad in black; he
carried a semi-automatic pistol with a six-inch long silencer screwed on. "You're the last
one." The man said. Bit tried to run, but tripped over the mahogany footstool and it
flipped over, pinning his legs. The damn thing was have weighed at least 40 pounds,
because Bit couldn't heave it off. The man loomed over him, aiming the gun. He moved
his gloved thumb slightly, cocking the weapon. "Fitting isn't it. Tomorrow morning, the
cops will receive an anonymous tip to search Cloud Mansion. They will find a CCTV
video of your mother being raped by your father, and then shot in the head by you. Your
brother comes in just as you shoot your father, then the CCTV tape shows you dragging
him into the bathroom after knocking him out with the gun, and drowning him. Finally,
the CCTV will show you in here, killing yourself. You know, it's amazing what you can
do with a computer and a video editor. Ah well, won't help you now. Bye- bye." The man
said softly. Bit heard the soft crackle of energy, and a bolt of blue energy flew threw the
open door, hitting the black-clad man full in the back. Bit felt a dark and smelly liquid
splash over his body; he felt the stickiness of blood as he touched his skin. Bit saw a
shadowy figure standing just beyond the doorway, all he could see was a black and silver
glove extended towards him and a faint light glinting off a flat opaque visor big enough
to cover a person's entire face with an enlarged white Celtic cross design. The glove
silently lowered and suddenly a stack of five computer disks in sealed plastic sleeves,
bound together by several pieces of tape, flew onto the floor beside Bit. "Who are you?"
Bit asked timidly. The figure seemed to pause before answering in a distinctly male
voice, "Cross." The visor and Celtic cross disappeared and Bit could hear the front door
open and shut again. Bit lay there, he couldn't sleep, couldn't move, he couldn't bear to
think of what would happen. The police found him there, shaking rapidly. As he was led
from the house, he saw something tattooed on the back of the right hand of the man that
had tried to kill him. He expertly etched it on a piece of paper and stuck it in his pocket as
he was led from the house. Later on, he got rid of everything entitled to him as the last
living heir of the Cloud bloodline and became a junk dealer. He never did forget that
symbol, or that day, or that man.
~End Flashback~
* * *
Bit Cloud reached beneath his mother's plaque and withdrew a faded piece of
paper. He had remembered only where he'd put the drawing of the symbol, not what the
symbol itself was. He unfolded the piece of paper and gaped at the symbol. He'd seen
that symbol one other time; it was engraved upon Pierce's bracelet when he'd thrown it
into the hot springs. "Damn you Backdraft!" Bit Cloud screamed to the empty
mausoleum chamber. "If it's the last thing I do…I will hunt down every last one of
you…" Bit Cloud breathed. He exited the mausoleum and walked quickly to his junk
truck. He climbed in and enabled the signal jammer before placing a call to the Blitz
Team Hovercargo, currently in repairs in Lexis City, approximately 150 miles from Bit's
location. "This is Bit Cloud, I'll be back by noon tomorrow." Bit ended the transmission
and shook his head, as if to clear it of his horrible memories. He would probably be back
by morning, but he would need longer to clear his head. He put the truck into gear before
heading back towards Lexis at an incredibly slow pace.
* * *
From behind a monolithic tombstone at the opposite end of the cemetery, a figure
in black armor watched, sitting astride a black motorcycle. The black and silver armor
was molded to the contours of his body, but a little bulkier. He wore a helmet, but his
face was bare, but in the shadow of the tombstone only one eye could be seen, the cold
gray pupil stared out at Bit Cloud as he drove away from the cemetery. One metal-gloved
hand reached up and grabbed the top part of his helmet, pulling down, the visor obscuring
his face, the light glinting off the corner of the visor. His right boot slammed down on the
starter pedal and a throaty roar, like that of a furious jungle cat, responded. He twisted the
grip and he shot out from behind the tombstone. His visor came fully into view; on it was
an enlarged white Celtic cross design. He had made a promise to Jonathon Cloud long
ago, and Cross always kept his promises. He pressed a button set between the handlebars
and a stealth shield enclosed around the motorcycle and the rider as he raced after Bit
Cloud.
(To Be Continued)
flashback is going on, the story is boosted up to R (or NC-17, use your own judgment),
but after the flashback it's back to PG-13. I am estimating Bit is about 18 or so now.)
* * *
Bit Cloud walked beneath the canopy of bare-branched trees in the cemetery. The
foggy white sky was streaked with sinister black storm clouds. He was clad in a sky blue
t-shirt, black pants, and boots beneath a light brown trenchcoat. He wore a floppy
brimmed hat that matched the color of his trenchcoat pulled low over his eyes. The echo
of his boots seemed hollow on the flagstone walk. He arrived at a mausoleum near the
center of the cemetery made of black marble, which was faded by the years to a very faint
gray. Bit tried the hammered copper handle and found it locked, which was good, since
he'd locked it the last time he'd left. He reached down his shirt and withdrew a card key
on a long chain. Bending down, he inserted the key into a slit just below the knob. He
heard a tiny beep and he heard a series of machine-gun clicks, indicating the unlocked of
roughly 30 heavy-duty locks set into the steel-reinforced door. He tugged on the 6-inch
thick door and it swung open easily, but it had the feel of a great weight perfectly
balanced. As it opened, the light of the setting sun fell across the plaque on the door. The
plaque read 'Cloud Family Mausoleum'. He opened and shut the quickly, locking it
again. He fumbled in the pitch-black darkness and his fingers closed around a lever. He
threw the old-fashioned light switch lever and the interior of the mausoleum. The interior
of the room was a smooth black-gray marble. The mausoleum was bare except for three
golden plaques on three of the four walls. Bit looked to the fourth wall, which was blank,
and remembered…remembered how that wall had been meant for him.
* * *
~Start Flashback~
Young Bit Cloud, at the fragile age of 13, lay on a Persian Rug in his family's spacious
mansion. His legs were pinned by one of the heavy, solid mahogany footstools that went
with his father's antique chair. He had seen the carnage…the carnage that would haunt
him for the rest of his days. He had seen the four assailants enter the mansion while
watching from his tree house in the front yard. It had been a full thirty minutes before
he'd worked up the courage to go inside, metal baseball bats held at the ready, one in
each hand. He'd first gone upstairs, calling too loudly for his parents. He'd gone into
their bedroom first, and was halted in his tracks. His mother, Laura Cloud, was naked, her
clothes and underclothing tossed unceremoniously around the room, she was tied to the
bed by several of his father's neckties and a piece of Duct tape pressed tightly over her
mouth. Blood was seeping from a bullet hole in her temple, plastering her long, golden-
blonde hair to the cotton white pillow. Blood also seeped out from between her legs,
spreading over the white silk sheets. Jonathon Cloud, Bit's father, lay close nearby, hands
cuffed behind his back, blood still seeping from the many slash wounds inflicted upon his
body, his severed genitals shoved into his mouth. Bit threw up then and staggered out of
the room, using his bats as a crutch. He felt like he would throw up again, so he staggered
into the bathroom just down the hall. Two men clad completely in black were holding his
18-year-old brother beneath the water in the Jacuzzi. Bit screamed and ran downstairs
and into his father's study. A single man followed him inside, also clad in black; he
carried a semi-automatic pistol with a six-inch long silencer screwed on. "You're the last
one." The man said. Bit tried to run, but tripped over the mahogany footstool and it
flipped over, pinning his legs. The damn thing was have weighed at least 40 pounds,
because Bit couldn't heave it off. The man loomed over him, aiming the gun. He moved
his gloved thumb slightly, cocking the weapon. "Fitting isn't it. Tomorrow morning, the
cops will receive an anonymous tip to search Cloud Mansion. They will find a CCTV
video of your mother being raped by your father, and then shot in the head by you. Your
brother comes in just as you shoot your father, then the CCTV tape shows you dragging
him into the bathroom after knocking him out with the gun, and drowning him. Finally,
the CCTV will show you in here, killing yourself. You know, it's amazing what you can
do with a computer and a video editor. Ah well, won't help you now. Bye- bye." The man
said softly. Bit heard the soft crackle of energy, and a bolt of blue energy flew threw the
open door, hitting the black-clad man full in the back. Bit felt a dark and smelly liquid
splash over his body; he felt the stickiness of blood as he touched his skin. Bit saw a
shadowy figure standing just beyond the doorway, all he could see was a black and silver
glove extended towards him and a faint light glinting off a flat opaque visor big enough
to cover a person's entire face with an enlarged white Celtic cross design. The glove
silently lowered and suddenly a stack of five computer disks in sealed plastic sleeves,
bound together by several pieces of tape, flew onto the floor beside Bit. "Who are you?"
Bit asked timidly. The figure seemed to pause before answering in a distinctly male
voice, "Cross." The visor and Celtic cross disappeared and Bit could hear the front door
open and shut again. Bit lay there, he couldn't sleep, couldn't move, he couldn't bear to
think of what would happen. The police found him there, shaking rapidly. As he was led
from the house, he saw something tattooed on the back of the right hand of the man that
had tried to kill him. He expertly etched it on a piece of paper and stuck it in his pocket as
he was led from the house. Later on, he got rid of everything entitled to him as the last
living heir of the Cloud bloodline and became a junk dealer. He never did forget that
symbol, or that day, or that man.
~End Flashback~
* * *
Bit Cloud reached beneath his mother's plaque and withdrew a faded piece of
paper. He had remembered only where he'd put the drawing of the symbol, not what the
symbol itself was. He unfolded the piece of paper and gaped at the symbol. He'd seen
that symbol one other time; it was engraved upon Pierce's bracelet when he'd thrown it
into the hot springs. "Damn you Backdraft!" Bit Cloud screamed to the empty
mausoleum chamber. "If it's the last thing I do…I will hunt down every last one of
you…" Bit Cloud breathed. He exited the mausoleum and walked quickly to his junk
truck. He climbed in and enabled the signal jammer before placing a call to the Blitz
Team Hovercargo, currently in repairs in Lexis City, approximately 150 miles from Bit's
location. "This is Bit Cloud, I'll be back by noon tomorrow." Bit ended the transmission
and shook his head, as if to clear it of his horrible memories. He would probably be back
by morning, but he would need longer to clear his head. He put the truck into gear before
heading back towards Lexis at an incredibly slow pace.
* * *
From behind a monolithic tombstone at the opposite end of the cemetery, a figure
in black armor watched, sitting astride a black motorcycle. The black and silver armor
was molded to the contours of his body, but a little bulkier. He wore a helmet, but his
face was bare, but in the shadow of the tombstone only one eye could be seen, the cold
gray pupil stared out at Bit Cloud as he drove away from the cemetery. One metal-gloved
hand reached up and grabbed the top part of his helmet, pulling down, the visor obscuring
his face, the light glinting off the corner of the visor. His right boot slammed down on the
starter pedal and a throaty roar, like that of a furious jungle cat, responded. He twisted the
grip and he shot out from behind the tombstone. His visor came fully into view; on it was
an enlarged white Celtic cross design. He had made a promise to Jonathon Cloud long
ago, and Cross always kept his promises. He pressed a button set between the handlebars
and a stealth shield enclosed around the motorcycle and the rider as he raced after Bit
Cloud.
(To Be Continued)