Chapter 2: Don't Look Now

Rook watched as the sun set in the sky melting into the beautiful pink and orange clouds surrounding. The rest of the sky steadily faded out into a deep blue—It still didn't fit the mood, but it was hard to stay frustrated at something so beautiful in nature. It seemed more soothing now. Rook's mind wondered back to earlier that day. Ben was right. This would not be good for aliens.

Frowning, Rook turned and crossed the street to where his Proto-TRUK was parked. He took one last look at the sunset before opening the door to the driver's seat. It had been a long day. There was only one good thing he had to look forward to. He couldn't wait to get back to base, go to his dorm room and go to bed. He could at least enjoy a few peaceful hours of rest. Rook took a deep breath. Maybe tomorrow would be better.

A strange feeling suddenly overtook Rook as he stared into the car, a feeling of not being alone—he could have sworn he had heard something…something unnatural…or maybe he had felt something, like an interruption of the air surrounding him. Had something brushed past? Rook rolled his eyes at himself. Really, Blonko? You are way too jumpy right now.

But the cold uneasy feeling crept up his spine and filled his thoughts with eerie images. Rook inadvertently became aware of the fact that it had been too silent; no sound of any cars or people, not even a bird. How long had it been like that? The Ravonnahgander tried to dismiss the new finding, but he instinctively froze where he was and strained his ears to listen for any sound. He could feel his heart beating steadily faster as he inhaled and exhaled, the sound piercing into the ominous silence. Maybe it was just an animal.

But Rook could not resist the impulse to look behind him. It was just too quiet, as if something or someone was stalking. The sunlight was slowly fading into a dark dreary blue, getting darker and darker as dusk began its decent into the night. He felt a chill shoot up his back as his thoughts began to twist with possibilities.

He finally gave in to his instinct and spun around, his eyes scanning for any movement among the wooden chairs and tables. But there was nothing out of place. The last beams of sunlight lit the wall of Mr. Smoothie's (which had closed while he was talking with Ben) and the picnic tables casting long shadows behind them. There was no one there.

Rook smirked at his paranoid outburst. Now you just look like an idiot, he told himself. But he felt his tense body relax a bit, relieved to feel somewhat safe again. He was ready to go home.

Rook turned back around as the last of the fear died down…he was still safe… or at least he felt safe…

Before his eyes even had time to register the presence of the figure, Rook felt the heavy fist collide directly with his face. Pain flooded to the spot instantly as he was thrust backward before crash-landing onto the hard black asphalt of the street.

He yelped in pain and surprise as a thin trail of blood trickled down from his nose. The tremendous pain in his head briefly paralyzed his whole body. He lay gazing up at the sky, his vision pulsing black around the corners of his eyes. WHAT WAS THAT?!

Fists clenched, Rook pulled himself up as soon as he mustered the willpower to see who his attacker was. Meeting the armored figure, his reddened eyes narrowed.

The large man was standing next to his truck, suited in some sort of hybrid of modern tactical armor with a medieval twist to it. His broad shoulders were slightly lifted in a show of victorious pride, and he stood looming over, as if he wanted to strike fear at the sight of the red crest in the middle of the silver chest-plate.

"Looks like you aliens don't give a hoot about innocent people. Shooting that poor girl and all," the huge man sneered at Rook in his cockney accent. His helmet only reached just beyond his nose, allowing the long, menacing grin to be perfectly visible. He cracked his knuckles threateningly as he slightly tilted his head, as if sizing Rook up.

Rook clenched his teeth as a throbbing sensation of anger filled his brain. He recognized the man as a member of the Forever Knights.

The Forever Knights had started as out as a gang, strictly humans only. They were aggressively against aliens on Earth. They had records of assaults and robberies—aimed mostly towards aliens—and vandalizing certain businesses they knew to have alien connections. They had always annoyed the Plumbers. They had grown in number until they had gained sympathizers. Wealthy ones. Some people just didn't want aliens around, and the Forever Knights offered a remedy for the problem. They made it one of their ideals to make life on Earth as unwelcome for aliens as could be.

But the Forever Knights had grown into a terrorist group with the funding they were receiving. They were a much more serious threat now. Rook had read the files. A few rogue scientists, hungry for alien technology and biology, had found the perfect opportunity for illegal and unethical research under the cover of the Forever Knights organization. Their crimes now included blackmail, smuggling, kidnapping, murder and even alien experimentation. They had gained a high rank on the Plumber's most wanted list.

"If you had your facts correct, you would know that I was one of the Plumbers attempting to stop the criminals this morning," Rook hissed as he wiped the blood from his nose. "And you, sir, have just assaulted me." The heavily armored knight let out a snort.

"What are you gonna do? Arrest me?" he laughed, holding his hands out together mockingly. "That really worked this morning."

"Well, it is going to work tonight. You are under arrest for assault and any other crime you have committed while being associated with the Forever Knights organization," Rook said. He grabbed his Proto-tool from his shoulder and cocked it. "Stand down," he commanded, aiming at the knight.

The man raised his arms up in the air, a smirk spreading across his face. Rook slowly moved closer, his gun ready, his eyes never breaking eye-contact. Obviously, something was up.

"What's wrong? I thought Plumbers were not afraid of anything," the knight mocked. Rook slowly reached for the handcuffs attached to his belt.

"You have the right to remain silent," he answered coolly. Rook cautiously stepped up to him, lowering the gun to cuff him. The perfect moment. The knight suddenly lunged at Rook, grabbing hold of the Proto-tool with one hand and Rook's upper arm with the other. He wrenched the gun and Rook's arm in the opposite direction.

Rook instinctively pulled the trigger, the shot missing the knight entirely. He gasped in surprise as the knight released his grip and swung another punch at the alien. Rook swiftly dodged the blow.

Jumping up, he kicked the man in chest, regaining the Proto-tool only to receive a kick to the stomach soon after. Rook gasped and backed off, nausea almost getting the better of him.

"Better be careful from now on. Your alien ways are not going to be tolerated anymore," the knight laughed.

Rook stumbled backwards as anger again clouded his head. This guy didn't care about the people who died. He just wanted to use them as an excuse to beat up an alien. He just wanted a fight. And Rook was going to give him one. Surely, he could take on one Forever Knight alone if he was ready.

Rook steadied himself, ignoring the pain in his stomach and charged back toward the knight. What am I doing? This man is much stronger than me. He could be armed! Get backup! Call HQ! Rook screamed in his head, but he had already made up his mind, even if it had been a foolish decision. He was going to bring this man to justice—or try to, at least.

The knight let out a roar of laughter in satisfaction, which just made Rook angrier. He jumped up in the air, his Proto-tool switching from shotgun to power-sword. Rook swung the sword over his head to build up the force of the impact. If he struck a certain point on the knight's armor several times, the sword's glowing blade would act as a taser, immobilizing him.

Rook, however, never even made it to his target. Almost as soon as he jumped, a shining red figure met him in midair, slamming into him and throwing him off course. Rook slammed into the rear bumper of his truck, bashing the back of his head again. He looked up and rolled out of the way just in time, the strike of another sword just skimming his forehead and embedding into the metal.

He jumped up and blocked another several maddened strikes with his own sword. His eyes could hardly focus on the figure furiously swinging its duel red blades. He jumped back to escape the range of the glowing red spiral of the power swords.

The attacker pulled back as well, waiting for Rook to make a move as it glared at him like a vulture. The red electric glow of the power swords danced over the reflective surface of his red armor as the sky grew darker and darker. The knight was much smaller than the first and was obviously more agile.

As soon as he found his bearings, Rook launched himself back at the ninja-like knight. He clashed with the two power-swords and forced his opponent's arms in the air. He then dropped down leaning on his hand and swung both legs into the scarlet attacker's, sending him to the ground. Rook leapt up and kicked the knight to the side before he could get up.

Great, now there are two, Rook thought to himself. His head was throbbing in pain now. He wiped the sweat and blood off his face with his hand. I really need to call HQ. His thoughts were immediately interrupted by an angry grunt several feet away. Rook jerked his head to meet with the first knight once again. How could he have forgotten?

The large thug was racing towards him, teeth clenched, fists ready. Rook took in a quick breath and latched onto one of the large shoulder plates as soon as it made contact. He swung himself up and over the knight with one arm, landing unharmed on the other side. He switched his power-sword back into a shotgun as the large knight spun around in a rage to face him. Rook aimed at him, panting heavily. He hadn't noticed how exhausted he really was.

He went to pull the trigger, but a sudden feeling sent an alarm through all his senses. The Ravonnahgander spun around to face another knight coming up from behind. The figure wore silver with a red cloak covering his breastplate and falling down to his knees. His helmet resembled a bronze comedy mask, the open mouthed smile and squinted eyes glowering at Rook.

The knight went in for a cross-punch that was quickly redirected by Rook. He fired at the new attacker, but his legs suddenly were kicked out from under him. The blast missed its target. Rook caught himself on his knees and swiftly reeled away from whoever the next attacker was. He looked up and felt a jolt of panic as he realized that not only one but two more armored knights had now joined the fight.

The next attacker seemed to be the twin of the first. His long red cloak flowed over his chest, moving in the gentle wind. The only difference was the shape of their faceplates. This one had a bronze tragedy mask, the exaggerated sad face looking down at Rook. Both knights were the same height and build, both were armed with short swords, and both of these were pointed at Rook. The two faces glared down at him, one looking down sarcastically, and the other mocking.

Rook forced himself up, blocking another blow from Comedy with his proto-tool. He knew he couldn't take on all the knights at once. They were different from usual petty thugs and low-lives. They were organized fighters. Tragedy swung at his head. Rook blocked it with the shotgun before spinning around to fire at the other twin trying to stab him from behind. The blast hit Comedy, who went flying back but was almost completely unaffected by the stun-shot and returned almost at once.

Rook was being overwhelmed. He knew he had to get out.

Every time he tried to catch his breath he was met with another hit to the face or attempted blow by a sword. The twin knights were practically on him, never backing off or stalling to allow him any room for a counterattack. He succeeded only in blocking the majority of their attacks, his strength diminishing steadily with every blow.

Cold sweat streamed down his forehead as he managed to hold off his two opponents long enough to switch the Proto-tool to its defense-mood. He watched as the translucent orange hard-light formed a circular shield, regaining a slight amount of confidence for Rook. But it was not to last…

Rook turned too late to notice the red knight rejoining the fight. An explosion of pain shot up the side of his chest as he received the splitting kick to the side. He staggered forward, almost collapsing as the knights held back, embracing their new role as spectators. Pain pounded his side as Rook steadied himself enough to balance on his knees. Why hadn't his armor absorbed the impact?

Rook looked up dazed and unfocused at the figures, the sheen of their armor the only visible details in the dim light. What are they waiting for? Rook suddenly felt a cold hard grip on his arm. A shiver shot through him. He had just enough time to glance at the grinning face before the bulky knight swung him into an ally-way between two buildings close by.

Rook crashed into the side of a dumpster, hitting his side of his face hard against the green painted metal. He moaned as blood began to dampen the fur of his cheek. He forcefully rolled himself back over, wheezing loudly.

The light of day was gone by now, replaced by a heavy blackness of night. Rook could hardly make out the silhouettes of the figures coming up to him from the shadows all around. How many were there? He felt around for the Proto-tool, but he was sure he had dropped it during his fall. He could just barely make out the outline of his Plumber badge lying next to him among the various other things littering the ally.

With hopeful desperation, Rook reached out for it, but he had hardly brushed it with his fingers before one of the knights stomped down on it, smashing its wiring beneath the booted foot.

Rook's whole body was exhausted, his lungs were practically yelling at him to give up. His head was burning from the inside, almost as if it were threatening to rupture. But Rook wasn't ready to give in just yet. Using the dumpster as an aid, he stumbled to his feet one more time. A sadistic snicker pieced the quiet darkness surrounding him.

"You will not get away with this," Rook jeered shakily, his tongue practically pasted to the inside of his dry mouth. He held tightly onto his bruised side as he backed against the wall. The mocking laughter continued in the gloom.

"Whatever you say, Plumber," the all-too-familiar cockney voice replied scornfully.

In anger Rook threw a punch towards the voice, but his hand was slapped away like a fly. He wasn't a threat anymore—he was too weak to be a threat. A dark silence took domain for what seemed like hours to Rook. He stood shivering and breathless in the dark, cornered like an animal. He felt weak and helpless… feelings that he hated.

With breath-taking speed, something shot itself out of the blackness towards Rook, latching onto his face. Rook gasped and hissed in pain, clawing at cold object, but it was too strong. It wouldn't let go. The thing tightened its grip, sending Rook into total panic as he realized what it truly was… a hand.

WHY IS IT SO STRONG?! Rook wondered. No matter how hard he struggled it wasn't even loosening. It wasn't human… It couldn't be human. SO WHAT IS IT?! But Rook knew that not knowing was the least of his problems. He had to get away from whatever it was.

The hand pulled his head forward violently before smashing it into the wall of one of the brick buildings. Pain shot through his head like fire. He couldn't do anything. It drew him back and did it again, and again, and again. Rook tried to scream out, but his voice was muffled by the metallic palm. He continued to be slammed into the brick until he felt the back of his head drenched in blood. The pain was excruciating.

Rook couldn't feel anything else anymore; it was as if his whole body had gone numb except for one place. The sneers of laughter pounding in his ears, Rook felt the throbbing pain through his matted, wet fur. He didn't know if he was going to die, and he didn't care…he couldn't care. Everything was just a jumbled up mess in his head, complete turmoil. He couldn't focus. Nothing mattered. It was just pure chaos. The merciless hand slammed him into the wall one last time. Rook let the last bit of consciousness leak out from him as he slowly faded away.

As his body went limp the twin knights grabbed onto his arms, holding him up against the brick wall.

The red knight released his grip from the alien's face and stepped back to examine his work. He had used just enough force to knock out the target out, yet he could have easily killed him. Rook's head hung down, his eyes were closed. There was a large gash on the back of his head, but the wound wasn't enough to be fatal. The real trauma was internal... a perfect distraction to get the job started. The largest knight smiled in satisfaction.

"Make sure our lil' friend here is still among the livin'," he grunted. One of the twin knights turned to his leader and nodded. Rook was still breathing…loudly because of his bloodied nose. "Good, let's call the king," the large knight continued. He tapped his ear a few times, activating his com-link.

"Sir Morton, I expect you have some good news?" the voice came from the com cool and softly… a chilly innocent sound, yet somehow extremely sinister as well.

"Yes, your majesty. I believe we've found the perfect test subject for your project," Sir Morton answered, "Ben Tennyson's best mate, Rook Blonko."

"Ah, yes," the Forever king sighed, "Ben Tennyson's alien partner, a high ranking Plumber, I believe. This works perfectly. Proceed as planned. And make sure he receives the full dosage."

"Yes, your majesty," Sir Morton replied with a grin. He tapped the com again and turned to Tragedy. "Inject 'im," he grunted the command.

The twin knight let go of Rook and reached into a bag around his arm. He pulled out a small syringe and a vile containing a translucent blue liquid. He knelt down and began filling the needle with the liquid as the other twin knight carefully removed the blue armor from Rook's left arm.

The highlights of a car were approaching from down the street, casting a yellow light that was creeping closer. Sir Morton knew they couldn't be seen in the shadows of the ally, but he wasn't going to take any chances. "Make it quick! Don't want to be 'roun 'ere for witnesses," he whispered.

Tragedy took Rook's arm and pressed the needle through his fur into his vein. The blue fluid slowly drained from the syringe into his arm. Rook let out a quiet groan as the Forever Knight withdrew the empty needle and replaced his armor.

"Good. Now let's get this fellow back to the street. Wouldn't want 'im to be missed before the fun starts," Morton laughed, showing his large teeth with a cruel smile.

The red knight seized Rook by the arms and dragged him over to his truck. He leaned him against the door and turned to the others. "Sweet dreams, Plumber," Sir Morton sneered. As quickly and silently as they came they were gone, disappearing into the darkness.