MASKED RIDER
PILOT CHAPTER
Prologue
Imagine the world as you know it presently. Now, what if someone told you that every climactic event in the last hundred years was orchestrated? Would you believe it? What if wars were just a front to gain money for weaponry? What if disease outbreaks were simply population control? What if celebrities were a means of distraction? What if the deaths of positive figures were chance, but were instead ordered? Well believe it, it's the horrible truth. These seemingly chance events were in fact orchestrated by a secret society known as Shocker; a society bent on claiming and maintaining control over the world. War instigations, assassinations, you name it, they've done it. However, they're no fools. The society itself is controlled by a council of rich and powerful leaders and a small group of lieutenants. As for their dirty work, they have a system of selecting people to become sleeper agents; people to perform a task and take the blame for it. For a long time, this system worked. Unfortunately for them, conspiracy theories were all the rage in the late 1960s. People were beginning to become increasingly curious. The Japanese branch of shocker had a plan to rectify this, to hide in plain sight. In 1971, a Television series was launched in japan, in this series a man was kidnapped by a secret society (coincidentally named Shocker) and turned into a cyborg sleeper agent; who then turned against the society and sought to bring them down. This series was known as "Masked Rider". Although entertaining, (and surprisingly popular throughout the world) the true purpose of the show was merely propaganda, to make the idea of a secret society seem silly and farfetched; it succeeded. As the decades rolled by, conspiracies began to die down. But then began to rise again after the new millennium hit. In 2015, Shocker began to tighten a stranglehold on the world, wars were sprouting with the appearance of terrorists, race relations were beginning to crack, and politics were appearing as a joke. Shocker is thriving, the world is driving into chaos and it is more than paying off for them. One man, however, is aware of all this and is not amused. This man, since he graduated high school has been a growing thorn in Shocker's side, He is a local Hip-Hop artist, a community activist, a public speaker, a martial artist, but more than that, a carefree, happy man. His name is Michael, Michael David King.
PILOT CHAPTER
A kick to the cheek sent Michael flying across a mat. As he rose to his feet, a barely visible drop of blood fell on his gi. "Damn," Michael mildly whined to himself, wiping his mouth. "Sensei ain't messing around. I guess I actually gotta earn that black belt." Michael, 5'5", 24 year old African American man from D.C. ran his fingers through his short dreadlocks and took his fighting stance. His Hazel eyes fixed on his slowly approaching sensei, a taller, elder, experienced Japanese man by the name of Sagata Sanshiro. Sagata was also actually a well-known actor. 44 years ago he debuted as the character Hongo Takeshi, the "Masked Rider." Michael had the good fortune of meeting him and earing private instruction in martial arts whilst traveling in japan. His plane was due to leave in less than 12 hours, but he was determined to earn his black belt.
Although short, with a somewhat average build, Michael is no pushover. His mother gave him the middle name David because she noticed that although he is smaller than most, he commands great willpower, much like the biblical figure David, who slew Goliath, the seemingly unbeatable foe. "Hyou-kun1," Sagata addressed Michael; a nickname Sanshiro gave Michael due to his fondness of the Panther animal. "Hyou" being the Japanese term for panther. "You must focus!" Sanshiro instructed, readying himself into his stance. "You rely too much on your reflexes. Gifted as they are, you must also use your other senses to anticipate attacks. Now, prepare yourself!" moved by the serious tone of his sensei's voice, Michael narrowed his eyes upon Sagata. Sagata approached quickly, he first tried to hit his student with a side thrust kick, and Michael narrowly escaped impact with a quick side step. Michael, sliding closer to his sensei attempted to strike with a backhand to the face, Sagata defended with a quickly placed right arm; Then spun around with a return backhand. Michael avoided harm with a one-armed back handspring. At this point, Michael was tired of playing games; he was ready to get his black belt. He eased into his fighting stance, the he shifted into another stance. He first closed his right hand into a fist, and then dropped his right arm at his side, bent; he then extended his left arm across his body, his hand also extended. This was the pose of Sagata's famed character, Masked Rider. Michael then added something different, he trotted back once, both of his arms swung back, above his head; as he feet touched down he bent forward slightly so that his hands appeared to claw the ground. He then rose back up in his own trademark panther fighting stance. Sagata briefly watched in nostalgic awe he saw the stance of his famed character; but quickly defended himself when he saw Michael approaching. He broke through his sensei's defense with a claw-like attack that parted Sagata's arms from across his chest; he then used a knuckle punch to Sagata's stomach to stun him, then a dual palm attack to send him back a few feet. Sagata was surprised but still resolved to defeat his student. Sagata and Michael's eyes met. Both had a look of fierceness, as their eyes locked, their minds must have also. Both of them prepared for a powerful side thrust kick. The intensity of the battle was so thick that one could cut it with a knife; these two martial-artists were ready to finish it. They threw their feet forward, their kicks collided. Michael's kick was solid and strong, while Sagata's was well timed and placed. Both fighters hit the ground from the collision. Michael rose up, rubbing the back of his head from his impact with the floor. Sagata was sitting upright, smiling at Michael.
"Hyou-kun," Sagata began. "In this country, there is a proverb that says 'experience should fear the strength of youth'. And from this exam today, you've proven that true." Sagata rose to his feet, he reached into his gi and brought out a black belt. "You are a true warrior. Let your strength aid you, as my strength aided me". Michael got on his feet and accepted his black belt, smiling ear to ear. Sagata smiled and laid a hand on Michael's shoulder. Seeing something in Michael's eyes, Sagata's mind went back to when Michael struck the pose of Masked Rider. Sagata tightened his grip on Michael's shoulder. "Go display your strength to the world, rider." Michael froze and looked up in shock at his sensei's statement, then shown an ambitious grin.
Michael emerged from the dojo a proud young man. He walked to his parked motorcycle, a Ducati street bike. He was changed out of his gi into black jeans, high top classic Adidas, and a black leather biker jacket was halfway zipped over a t-shirt that had the logo of the fictional "Tachibana Racing Club". He sat on his bike and checked his cell phone for messages. There was a message from his mother asking when he was coming home; another message from his manager reminding him of a rally back home in Washington D.C. in which he was to speak and perform. He messaged his mother saying he was on his way to the airport; then he messaged his manager asking him to get in touch with his DJ for a set-list and to have the equipment ready for his arrival. As he put his phone in his pocket and put his driving gloves on a glare caught his eye. He looked and found the source of the glare but it was too far away to tell what it was. It was then he had this overwhelming feeling that he was being watched.
Given to him by his mother, an African kente cloth scarf around his neck waved in the wind as he sped across Okinawa on his motorcycle. The ominous feeling from before still haunted him. Nightfall hit as he arrived in Tokyo. His flight was only a few hours away he wanted to stop off and check out some shops, but he figured it was best to get to his flight early. Besides, the ominous feeling was only getting stronger. He stopped to register his bike to be shipped back home. Luckily for him the airport was within walking distance. Because he couldn't shake the feeling that more than one person was watching him. Two shady people in black suits watched him from across the street, Michael couldn't help but notice. Trying not to draw attention to himself, Michael began to pick up the pace of his walk. When the two suited men began to follow at the same pace, Michael's fear had been realized. His hands clenched into fists as his Sensei's training began to playback in his mind. He pretended to browse nearby store windows when he was really looking at the reflection to check on his assailants. One of them reached into his blazer's inner pocket. Michael saw this and was immediately alarmed. Throwing caution to the wind, he broke into a sprint. His only goal in mind was to make it to his flight alive and in one piece. He could see the airport as he began to lose his breath. His hope then turned into despair as two more suited men appeared from the crowd that parted from Michael's running path. Michael slid into a halt, his sneakers barely keeping a grip on the concrete. His peripheral vision caught an alley way. His common sense was telling him it was a bad idea to go into the alley, but he ignored the notion. He'd rather be caught trying to get home than surrender. He eyed his surroundings carefully, just as his assailants started to relax, he broke into another sprint. He then wished he listened to his instincts. A group of suited men were in the alley waiting for him. Michael stopped in his tracks, his former assailants closed in from behind him. One suited man stepped forward, clearly he was in charge, his suit was black like the rest, but had purple pinstripes. Not to mention his facial bone structure seemed nearly reptilian. The man took of his sunglasses his yellow eyes pierced Michael's mind, nearly frightening him. "Mister King…" his Japanese accent so thick his English was barely understood. "We have been keeping a very close eye on you. Although you've been a bit of a nuisance to our society, my superiors saw potential in you, you can become quite a useful tool for us." Michael adjusted his kente scarf, a quizzical look on his face. "What the hell are you guys? Yakuza2? What could you possibly want from me?" a subtle laughter waved through the sinister group. The leader shook his head. "Yakuza? Don't insult us mister King. We are much, much deeper than that. In fact, you 'rapped' about us in your music, spoke against us in rallies, you even seen us in your favorite Japanese program. You often refer to us as the illuminati, but we are in fact called…Shocker!" his yellow eyes glared once more as he took off a leather glove, revealing a tattoo of a predatory bird perched upon a sword piercing into the planet earth. Michael recognized this symbol from the "Masked Rider" television show. For a brief moment, the situation was believable to Michael, but once they revealed that they were supposedly "Shocker", it seemed silly. Michael began to smirk, "really? Shocker? C'mon son." Michael started to chuckle. "Okay, I get it now. 'Play a joke on the gaijin3 because he's a rider fan', very funny. Alright, joke's over, I got a plane to catch, peace." Michal attempted to walk out of the alley, but the shocker agents who were there refused to move. Michael started to get annoyed, a scowl reminiscent of comedian Kevin Hart was now on his face. "Um…sir snake eye?" Michael looked back, addressing the lead agent. "Can you please tell your friends here to part like the red sea? I really do have places to be…rhyme unintended." The snake man began to snicker. An irritated Michael tried once more to escape. Two aggressive Shocker agents glanced to their leader, he nodded. The agents then attacked Michael, opening up with a twin-palm attack. An alert Michael crossed him arms to protect his chest, but was still sent back several feet, his sneakers attempting to grip for dear life. As he started to shift into his fighting stance, be began to think that maybe these men were who they say they are. The snake man had a look of interest on his face, this was chance to see what his superiors saw in this "chosen one". He extended his pointing finger sinisterly at Michael, "Take him alive!" his subordinates then stood at attention, one arm at their sides, the other extended into the air, all shouting "Hail Shocker!"
Michael stayed on the defensive; fists were coming from all directions. He deflected the majority of them, but he still remembered that his flight leaves in less than an hour; he had to turn this fight around. He remembered his training; he had to get his assailants on one side of him. He then used finger and knuckle strikes to stun surrounding enemies then he used pushes and palm strikes to move them out of the way. He then began his counterattack; he knew that if he attempted to flee that they would give chase. He had to end this now. He then, once again, struck the pose of the masked rider, transitioning into his panther-style stance. The snake agent's interest began to peak. Michael paced himself as he moved toward the lead agent, blocking and counterstriking grunts. One tried a flying kick from the side, Michael stepped back, and knuckle-strike the airborne grunt in his testicles. Another grunt tried to punch him from the front, Michael's reflexively moved his head, his right hand grabbing the fist. His left arm came down on the grunt's extended arm and snapped it. A quick back hand sent the grunt off to the side. Michael avoided more punches a few more knuckle-strikes led him to the lead agent. Michael never broke his stance, preparing to attack this reptilian man. "Time to skin the snake…" Michael never lost his wit, despite the present danger. The man began to laugh sinisterly and then maniacally, applauding Michael's false courage. "Mister King, you obviously don't know how Shocker works. This was merely a test. We've seen your intelligence, we've seen your resourcefulness, your strong will, your ambition, your resolve, and now, we've seen your aggressiveness and strength. I see why the high council chose you for the cyborg project." Michael raised an eyebrow, wondering what the hell this guy was talking about. The snake man began to unbutton his suit. "All that's left to do now…is to take the subject back to the lab." Michael tightened his stance, but it loosened as he started to see something out of a horror movie. The snake man mutated, looking more and more snake-like. His skin became scaly, his eyes narrowed, his tongue split slightly and stretched, and fangs grew from his teeth. Michael watched in disgust as this man's exposed hand closed and mutated into a long snake tail, the other gloved hand became clawed. It's a miracle his suit stayed on him as he somehow became bigger; a man who once stood at 5'9" was now peaking at 6'2". Michael became afraid, as any man would have; his natural instinct was to run. However, he was still resolved to end this and make it home; He tightened up back into his panther stance; his eyes scanning for weaknesses on the 6 foot snake's body. The snake laughed and began to speak, shocking Michael "allow me to reintroduce myself." The snake kept his this Japanese accent. "They call me Orochi, The man-snake. Surrender, mister King, there's no way you can subdue me." The words echoed in Michael's head. He began to believe Orochi. But he remembered something; snakes tend to have a weak neck, which is why their heads can pop off so easily. If Michael can somehow get his arms around Orochi's neck, he can kill him and be on his way. He charged at Orochi, Orochi laughed at Michael, and whipped his tail-arm. Michael barely dodged as he dropped down and slid between Orochi's legs. He stopped himself, and then jumped up as quickly as he could, his arms stretched to go around Orochi's head. It almost seemed as if Michael's plan would work…if Orochi's stretched snake-tail didn't creep up behind him. The tail quickly wrapped around Michael's neck and jerked him out of the air. Michael dangled in front of Orochi's face. Orochi laughed as he tighted his grip on Michael's neck. "Worry not, mister King." Orochi sickly reassured Michael. "I'll keep you alive, per the professor's request. But to make sure you don't know the secret location…" Orochi brought Michael closer; Orochi opened his mouth while loosening his grip to expose part of Michael's neck. Orochi showed his fangs, and briefly bit Michael's neck. Michael began to feel woozy, his vision blurred. Orochi dropped Michael onto the concrete. He then shouted at his groaning subordinates in Japanese, which translated to "get you sorry asses up! The master expects him in the laboratory by dawn! We must move quickly! I only gave a dose to keep him down for 6 hours! Let's go!"
A glowing globe hologram dimly lit a room that merely housed 4 leather chairs. Each chair was positioned to face a certain part of the globe. One faced America, another faced japan, one faced Russia, and the final faced Africa. From the four corners of the room, three men and a woman entered the room. A seeming uptight Caucasian man sat in the American chair. While a very attractive, yet aggressive Russian woman sat in the Russian chair, a tall bulky man in a turban sat in the African chair. A little later than the rest, a slender Japanese man wearing a white suit sporting a black cane walked to the Japanese chair, yet remained standing near it. On cue, four spotlights shone over the gathered people, at the same time a hologram of a metal bird perched on a sword came down and pierced the earth hologram. The four people raised their hands toward the hologram, jointly shouting "hail shocker!" the Japanese man rested his hands on his cane, addressing his coconspirators. "My fellow high council members, my subordinates have reported they have captured a candidate for a new agent. Mister Arnold, I believe your American branch is familiar with Michael King, the so-called activist rapper." Mr. Arnold propped his head on his hand, smirking. "Yes, Professor Shingami, that little rebel has been quite a thorn in my side. I sought to have him killed. What makes you so sure he's agent material?" Shingami snickered, "I am well aware of your grudge against this boy. However, one of my protégé's saw his intelligence and skills and named his the perfect specimen for a new project." Shingami reached into his blazer pocket and pulled out a remote. When he pressed a button the Shocker emblem disappeared and instead, blueprints were shown; Blueprints of robotics, cybernetics, and the human body. "Of course the council, as well as our society knows of my family's history of biology." Shingami came from a bloodline of experts in cross-species genetics. His family is responsible for urban legends and myths such as vampires, werewolves, griffons, Pegasus, even Orochi, whom Michael unpleasantly met. These blueprints, however, weren't his. "Professor Midorikawa, my most promising student, designed this. He calls it 'project; cyborg'. Every part of the subject's body will be enhanced. He will run faster, jump higher, hit harder. Combined with our brainwashing, he will be the perfect soldier!" The Russian councilwoman, Svetlana Putin, was unconvinced. "Tch, this is just like that silly propaganda show from forty years ago. Suddenly you want to make this a reality? Are you going to give his a fancy belt and cheesy costume as well?" subtle laughter filled the room. Even Muhammad, the devoted, and most stubborn, African councilman, couldn't help but laugh. Shingami's smirk never left his face, "Misses putin, ironically, yes, that is actually the plan. We plan to use him as a test subject of a potential army; we will use to subjugate japan, and soon the world! We at the Japanese branch grow tired of staying hidden. The time of domination is soon at hand." Muhammad nodded and smiled in agreement. Svetlana remained unconvinced; Mr. Arnold had a look on his face the clearly signified he had a sinister plan. "Professor Shingami, I have two requests for this project. One, unleash this cyborg in my jurisdiction for a time. And two, as for the design, make it like…a panther." Shingami raised an eyebrow. "A panther, Mr. Arnold, why this animal?" Mr. Arnold leaned forward in his chair. "Imagine, professor, the sweet irony of everything this boy loves, destroyed by the things he admires most; a masked rider, and a panther." Shingami laughed sinisterly. "Mister Arnold, pardon my choice of words. But you are a truly evil man." Arnold laughed. "Coming from one who creates demons, I'll take that was a compliment."
Michael, still unconscious, lied nude on a lab table, attached to a life support machince. With Shocker professor Midorikawa, a short, older Japanese man at the lead, he and semi-useful grunts in scrubs began the procedure to end all procedures. They began to cut him open, plating his skeleton in titanium. They then interweaved his muscles with steel nano-fiber. His tendons were reinforced and joined by a mechanism to heighten his muscle contraction strength and speed. After closing him up, they then injected his bloodstream with thousands of nano-bots, designed to repair any at all damaged organs or mechanics; giving him an artificial healing factor. Midorikawa had battle armor designed. Using a special belt attached to Michael, the armor can be molecularly teleported on and off his body on vocal command from a location only Midorikawa knows. Not to mention that the belt houses the source of power to Michael's cybernetic upgrades. Much like the Masked Rider on the fictional television show, the belt has a turbine that harnesses the power of wind; As long as Michael is in motion, and/or airborne, he will continue to gather power into the belt. A wind machine was then activated to blow high-powered wind into Michael's belt turbine. "Initiate vocal test" Midorikawa ordered. Using a computer, they gained access to Michael's body and forced him to speak. "Deactivate," the belt disappeared, using a cloaking device. "Activate," the belt reappeared. "Henshin," the turbine in the belt turned furiously. Golden beams of light fired around Michael's body outlining him in the shape of his battle armor. Michael was then encased in light, as the light diminished; Michael reappeared in his battle armor. The armor was mainly jet black with dark grey plated combat boots, gloves, and chestplate. With a panther themed helmet that yellow eyes that glowed on command. Sentimental as he is, Midori also added the kente cloth scarf that Michael had with him. "Success! Shocker, we have officially created our very own masked rider!" the room erupted in applause with numerous shouts of "hail shocker!" Midorikawa nodded at a job well done. But unlike Shocker, he had other plans for the world's first real rider. "Go notify Shingami-sama4 of our achievement and that he's ready for brainwashing. I'd like to stay and admire my work." The not-so bright grunts left the room. Midorikawa then unplugged Michael from all computers and systems. He then took off Michael's helmet. "Michael-san5! Please wake up! We don't have much time!" around this time the nano bots healed all of Michael's scars, so he be began to regain consciousness. He awoke, at first he looked around and tried to figure out where his was the second he saw the Shocker emblem on a wall, he screamed and rose up, he saw Midorikawa and flinched. He caught a glimpse of his hands and feet, he eyes opened wide in astonishment. "Wh-what the hell? How did I get here? Where am I? And what am I wearing?" Midorikawa tried to calm him. "Shh, please Michael-san, we don't have much time! Long story short, you now have a terrifying power, a power than can crush this evil society! But first you must escape! If they brainwash you, you will be used as a weapon of mass destruction!" Michael raised an eyebrow in confusion. He then examined himself; he looked at his outfit, and then closely examined his belt; a light bulb lit in his mind. "Holy crap, I'm a Masked Rider… I'm a masked freaking rider!" he was about to ask Midorikawa a question, but he was lying on the floor, dead. A spike, looking similar to a spider's fang was in his neck. He looked toward the door and standing in the center of a small group of black-clad Shocker grunt soldiers was a mutant similar to a spider. The mutant stood no taller than 7 feet, furry humanoid body, with eight larger spider legs protruding from its back; its head seemed like a man only with multiple eyes, fangs and unnaturally furry. The mutant seemed like a human tarantula. "It is a real shame," the mutant began to speak in a Spanish accent. "Midorikawa was a genius. Looking at you, his designs seem flawless." The spider mutant began to walk toward Michael, his soldiers following closely. "Hmmm, a real-life masked rider. If the designs work properly, an army of you would be nice. Personally, I prefer mutants like me. For I believe, mutants are the next step in human evolution. Cyborgs, ha, a joke compared to the power of nature." Clearly this mutant was some sort of nature lover. Michael was keeping this in mind, slowly reaching for his helmet. Even as he just then gained new powers, he was contemplating an escape plan. "Allow me to introduce myself. " The spider mutant halted and took a cordial bow. "They call me Arana, the poison dart. Pledge your allegiance to shocker, and you won't suffer the same fate as the good professor. If you try to escape, you'll be marked as a traitor, and you'll suffer a fate worse than death. You will have no family, no allies, you will die alone. Now, what is your decision?" Michael, now angered, reached down and picked up his helmet which was in two pieces. He placed the larger main helmet on his head; then he clicked the chin piece into place. As the helmet's eyes grow yellow, he struck the pose of the Masked Rider and simply stated "anger the panther, you'll catch claws." Arana's spider-arms rose into attack position, clearly he was angry. "Kill this abomination!" he commanded his troops. They acknowledged by pointing their hands into the air and yelling "hail shocker!"
Michael wanted to test his powers on the grunts first. Unbeknownst to him, that was Arana's intention. Michael dropped into his trademark panther stance; the turbine on his belt spun and glowed, claws extended from his hands. Michael noticed and was amazed. "It's almost as if this suit can read my intentions." He leapt forward as he corkscrewed into the air, his claws caught on one soldier, he put his legs around the neck of another, and he spun his body to throw the two grunts into the larger group. He then proceeded to attack the main group, deflecting incoming punches and clawing their bodies precisely aiming at the tendons on the attacking body parts. Ignoring the remaining grunts, he then leapt over the last two, grabbing and slamming their heads together on the way over. He touched down and got into his stance once again to face the already prepared Arana. Arana began to fire poison spikes from his spider-arms. Michal ran in a figure 8 to avoid them as he drew closer to Arana, Arana began to strike with his spider arms. Michael avoided them reflexively, yet just barely. As the arms landed next to him, Michael drew his hand back, his claws glowed just has his belt and helmet-eyes did. He struck the spider-legs with his claws, yelling "rider claw!" his claw tore through the spider legs like butter. Arana screamed in pain. "Pendejo! You just signed you own epitaph!" he attempted to fight with his human hands. Michael caught one and clawed it off, black blood sprayed across the room. Arana screamed as his attacked again with his remaining arm, Michael caught it. Thus time however, his drew his other hand back into a fist, his hand glowed as his belt and helmet-eyes glowed again. "Rider punch!" a powerful punch sent Arana into a parallel wall. Arana grunted and writhed in pain. Michael struck the Rider pose once again his helmet eyes and belt shown ever so brightly, he then ran towards the back wall, dropping to all-fours, he was like an animal, the turbine on his belt began to spin as it gathered wind. He then leapt at the wall; he spun his body and kicked off the wall. He was flying at a disoriented Arana like a ballistic missile. As he turned his body, he put his fur forward into a karate kick, as his sensei Sagata taught him. His attacking foot then grew claws, and they glowed. Arana knew his fate was sealed as Michael yelled "Rider claw kick!"
Outside the shocker base, a wall had a hole explode from it when Michael emerged outside, still in his kick. Along with Arana, who was in a bloody two pieces. Michael touched down onto a grassy field, he looked around to examine the area. Hearing an alarm blaring, he knew he didn't have time to ask questions. First thing he noticed is that his was on an island. He proceeded to run towards the beach to find a boat. He made his way to the docks. As he killed the guards, He noticed that they started to melt, bubble, then evaporate. "Just like on the TV show…" Michael pondered. He then found a small speedboat, which he hotwired and drove away. He knew it would only be minutes before they track him down and attempt to kill him again he had to come with an escape plan on the fly. Not to mention a plan to stay incognito once he's made it on the mainland; which would be difficult, given his social status. Because to the citizens of the world, he's a star; but to the evil controllers of the world, he's a weapon and a traitor.
"-kun" – a Japanese term of endearment. Usually given to young boys or younger friends.
"Yakuza" – an infamous Japanese gang/organization. Dating back decades. Maybe centries
"gaijin" – a Japanese derogatory term for an "outsider".
"–sama" – a Japanese term of respect for an elder or leader.
"-san" – a Japanese term of endearment toward one that is admired and/or respected.