Chapter 3: Enter! Roy Atlas!
A/N: For the rest of the chapters on (Not counting this one) you will have to read most of the stories by Wheller (I think that's how you spell it), otherwise you won't get the references to his stories, this story and all of his stories share a universe, the timeline of this might be explained in the next few chapters until you understand, I hope that you enjoy this new chapter! Also knowing that it will be a bit confusing in later chapters I have to add another thing, add together Full Metal Alchemist, Dragon Ball Z, and a bunch of other awesome anime shows, and you pretty much have this story, hope that helps! Also if I forgot to say it, the boy isn't that young probably around 14, but that's still young! Also imagine Roy to be like Colonel Roy Mustang, in fact that's where I got the name from! A/N ends
The young boy was sitting on his not so comfy hospital bed counting the cracks in the walls and ceiling for fun, when suddenly he heard people talking outside.
"But Brigadier General!" a voice said exhaustedly "He is a newly injected test subject!" Then a lighter, calmer voice spoke,
"I am the brigadier general, therefore I have the rank to have you killed, or do anything I want for that matter, and even more so when it has the military's best interest at heart" he paused "which this does. So stand aside." There were some shuffling noises outside and the door proceeded to open slowly.
"I'm sorry Brig-"
"There is no need to be sorry, if everyone started to say sorry when they were idiots then everyone would always be saying it, it doesn't even matter anymore. Just go take a long break"
"Yes Sir!" then man saluted, and with that he closed the door, and strolled into the room. The boy at this point was enjoying the conversation and was a little crestfallen when they stopped. He looked at the man that was walking toward him. He was a very strange looking man to say the least; he was wearing an all red and black uniform greatcoat with multiple stars and crests on it, which also covered him from his neck down to his feet. His shoes were military style steel- toe boots, and that was all you could see. He was gradually getting closer to the boy, taking small, slow, and measured steps.
"Hey! You remember anything yet!" he asked when he had reached the foot of the bed.
"Who are you?" the boy asked fearfully while pulling the blanket up to his neck.
"Who am I! Who am I!" he yelled playfully, "It doesn't matter who I am, it only matters who I'm not, but I am Roy Atlas, you may call me Roy or Mr. Atlas." The boy looked at him like he was forgetting something.
"Okay then Mr. Roy!" a pause "Why are you here, to hurt me with needles like those other people?"
"Hurt you?" he asked incredulous, "Why would I do that?"
He looked down like he was ashamed, "Because everyone that I've seen so far has either hurt me or disappeared"
"Those morons have it in for them!" he muttered barely loud enough for the boy to hear him, "Ever since he got his promotion to major Armando has been going around with such a swelled head I thought that he would fall over." He went over to one if the walls and leaned over on it. "You look pretty healthy to me; do you want to get out of here Ink?"
The boy looked around for a couple of seconds, "Whose Ink?"
Roy face palmed silently, "They didn't tell you did they?"
"Tell me what?"
"That your name is Ink."
For a moment the boy had a look of deep thought on his face, and then it was gone. "So that's my name?"
"Yes!" he half shouted, "Your name is Ink! Now do you want to go or do you want to stay here?"
He thought about this new found discovery for a moment, then said "Yes, I would like to leave this….place"
"Great!" He roared. "Let's go! I'm getting tired of this drab place!" He looked at Ink, then at the scrubs that he was wearing. "You need some clothes don't you?"
Ink looked at the off-white and dirty scrub that he was wearing, "You would give me clothes even though I don't even know you?"
Roy looked down for a minute, "Trust me on this Ink, we know each other a lot more than you know." He looked up, "Well! What are we waiting for? Let's go!" He walked over to Ink and with one fluid motion; picked him up, and swung him over the shoulder in a fireman's carry.
"This is fun!"
"Don't get used to it kid! I'm just giving us a speedy exit!" He said as he ran through the halls of the facility. After about five full minutes of running through the halls, they reached the exit.
"So now we leave, right?" Ink asked innocently.
"Yes!"
"Oh, okay Mr. Roy." They walked out together, Roy still carrying Ink over his shoulder. The first thing that Ink noticed was that there we almost no cars in the lot, but there were what appeared to be large shacks in the distance. The second thing that they noticed was that they were in the desert. The third thing was that they were walking toward a cherry-blossom Dodge Challenger with a chrome finish quite rapidly. "Is that your car?"
"Yes, yes it is, glad you noticed." He said with a small chuckle. He opened the back door to the powerfull car and lightly threw Ink in. Then he got in the driver's side seat, put the key in, and revved it too life. He proceeded to drive nonstop for about three hours until they were out of the desert and in the suburbs.
Ink watched with fascination as the world quickly scrolled past him, and the car. It took a couple of minutes but when they reached the Brigadier General's house Ink realized that it was well worth the wait. The house was truly a sight to behold, if you could call it a house. The first thing that Ink noticed about it was the massive steel gate, "why do you need such a big gate?"
"Because." Realized who he was talking to, he quickly changed his answer, "It's for security reasons."
"Oh, okay." Ink continued to look upon it with awe, it was the grandest thing that he'd ever seen, but considering how his life so far was only about two weeks and most of almost all of those two weeks he was comatose in a hospital, wasn't much.
"So, you coming?" Ink looked and saw that Roy had already started walking toward the house without him.
"Yeah!" he said as he was running after him. Now that he got closer to the house, he could tell that it wasn't a house, but a fortress! It was four stories high, with five balconies complete with stone gargoyles, acting as menacing sentinels protecting the grand fortress. It was almost Tudor style, but with Victorian era touches here and there, and a full set or working turrets. As they walked up to the steel gate he also noticed that there was a massive concrete wall, colored the same brownish-black as the fortress to blend in.
"Quite a sight isn't it Ink?"
"Yeah, it is." He paused, "How do we get in?"
Roy looked at him with a sly smile, "Like this of course." He snapped his fingers once, the sound echoing across the manor.
"What was that supposed to do?
"Just look!" He yelled profusely, Ink did just that, and then he noticed that the gates were slowly opening, as if pushed by some unseen force. They walked in together, side by side, through the gate into the courtyard. One thing that Ink didn't realize though, was how much of an honor it was to be this close to him for this long, or how much of an honor it was to be stepping forth into his "house". For any regular person, it was nigh impossible, but Ink wasn't an ordinary person. (FORSHADOWING GREATLY!) As they walked past the courtyard into the actual "house" he saw that the inside was no less grand than the outside. There were statues and full suits or armor in seemingly random places. Roy led him past all the other rooms, past the gallery, past the grand foyer, past the kitchen, past the other almost pointless rooms until they reached a solitary room that was away from the others. Ink looked down at the scrubs that he was still wearing and looked back up at Roy, "So the clothes are in there, right?"
"Yeah, last time I checked." He said with a smirk, and then he opened the door. Ink peered inside, surprised at what he saw. It was a square room, like most; the walls were painted a solid blue color with tinges of gold here and there. The ceiling was painted to resemble a midday sky, with white clouds and a bright blue sky that matched the walls. There was a bed in one corner with, surprise surprise, a blue blanket with blue sheets. There was also two cabinets in the room; on opposite sides of the room. The finishing touch was a giant graphic rug on the hardwood floor; it looked like a small brook with stones and even fish, thus effectively giving the room the feeling of being outside in the prairie, or grassland.
"That looks like a weird room, who was it for?" he asked with an innocent glint in his eye.
"I had it installed a couple of years ago for someone special, why do you ask?"
"Just curious." Ink replied calmly.
"Hey! You have to watch out for that, curiosity killed the cat!" he said, then he looked at the floor, "But satisfaction brought it back." He looked back up again and ushered Ink inside. Once Ink was in the room he proceeded to look around the room, "Where are the clothes?" asked, still walking around.
"In that cabinet over there." He replied smoothly. Ink went over the cabinet that Roy pointed at, that was also located in the west side of the room, and opened one of the drawers to reveal a multitude of pants and jeans, mostly jeans. "I'll give you some space" Roy said as he walked out and closed the door behind him. Ink took off the dirty scrub and nonchalantly threw it aside while taking out a nice pair of black pants, "I wonder what else is in here?" he said to himself as he opened the drawers systematically from the top to the bottom, finding; shirts, socks, more pants, and undergarments. He set the pants down on the bed and took out a pair of underwear and put them on, and then he put on the pants, finding that they fit him perfectly, he shrugged this off as a mere coincidence and took out a red graphic T-shirt and put it on. Now dressed normally for the era that he was in, called Roy back into the room.
"Well you look normal!" Roy said with glee.
"Is that sarcasm?" Ink asked
"Why would I have any reason to be sarcastic to you?"
"That is a good point" Ink said defeated. Roy motioned with a finger,
"We should get going if we want to make it to the shops before they all close for the night." He said, and then he started walking out of the room slowly, like he always did. Ink quickly caught up with him having mastered walking and running in the short time doing it. When they reached the beginning of the labyrinthine fortress Roy suddenly stopped, "Stay here I need to go write something."
"Okay, I will" Ink said in return as he sat down on a chair that he found. Ink watched as Roy walked over to a table about three meters away, he wondered why Roy would tell him to stay here if he was only going that far away. Ink looked at him while he was writing something on a blank piece of paper, due to Ink being on slightly higher ground he could see some of the words that he was writing, he didn't really want to know but curiosity drove him to take a quick peek at the words, it read, "Subject 588 is not showing any signs of enhanced abilities whatsoever, I suggest Plan C and hope that we do not have to proceed with Plan B and that we can give it some more time and wait longer. My finest regards – Brigadier General Roy Atlas". Ink swallowed the words with crushing sadness and defeat; he remembered from the Hospital how the guards, doctors, and personnel there referred to him as "Subject 588". This fact filled him with sadness, even here he couldn't escape the tests, they were just in a different form than at the Hospital. He looked back over at Roy, "Roy" he thought, now every time he thought of that name it filled him with a mixture of distaste, sadness, and paranoia. The "Brigadier General" was just still writing the letter, "He must be adding something on." Ink thought, "Probably something about how I should be killed, he's no different than those "men" at the Hospital!" He stole a quick glance at the "Brigadier General" to see that he had just finished, he watched with a strange mix of fear and awe when he saw him snap his fingers and the paper disappeared in a mix of black smoke and blue fire. Roy smiled to himself at the display of his "astonishing" powers, even though that little trick was only a fraction of his true power, albeit a very small fraction. Roy got up and walked away from his desk and over to Ink, "So, you ready to go?" he asked
"I guess." Ink replied with a hint of venom in his voice, which was undetected by the General. Roy looked Ink up and down quickly, "Who knew that a random set of clothes would fit you so nice!" he said with a smile. Suddenly a bout of white noise appeared from nowhere, Roy opened the inside of his greatcoat with a flourish of motion, revealing a copious amount of random weapons, Ink the seconds that the greatcoat was open Ink saw about 30 weapons, placed to fit inside the greatcoat, he saw, guns, swords, knifes, and even a handheld guillotine. Ink wondered why he would need so many, but quickly shoved the question to the back of his mind, it could wait. Roy found what he was looking for rather quickly, a walkie-talkie. He pressed a button and spoke into it, "Repeat! Static on my end!" The rusted black machine quickly buzzed to life again and said one message that literally sent shivers down Ink's spine.
"I repeat, your request has been denied." A pause, "Proceed with Plan B." another pause, "I'm sorry for your loss Brigadier General Roy." The noise slowly receded until there was silence in the grand manor, with a small tear in his eye he raised a the walkie-talkie to his mouth and pressed the button and replied sadly;
"Yes Sir, I will proceed with Plan B, you won't be disappointed …Sir." He dropped the walkie-talkie on the hardwood floor and it gave a resounding and haunting echo that went throughout the manor. The walkie-talkie suddenly blared to life from the floor,
"Good job Atlas, your services to this proud country are invaluable, you will be commemorated with an award and a pay increase for the trouble and effort." The sound died off for the last time as Roy slowly crushed it under his heavy booted foot. He opened his greatcoat again and pulled out a silenced .44 Magnum out. He looked at Ink sadly, a tear still in his eye. He looked at Ink and slowly dragged his hand up to his eye and wiped the tear away.
"May God have mercy on my soul for what I am about to do, and may He let your forcefully tainted soul rest in peace" he paused and aimed the gun point-blank at Ink's forehead, "Ink." The sudden truth that he was about to die shocked Ink out of his stupor as time seemed to stand still, but alas, it was too late, Roy pulled the trigger and watched as Ink fell to the floor in a crumpled heap; unmoving. He looked at the ceiling and blinked twice as he cocked the gun and put it to his temple, then,
"Put the gun down!" a megaphone screeched as a five man Black-Ops team busted through the windows and landed in front of him, Roy did not comply to this order so Number Five of the team did the thing that protocol said he had to do, even though it would ultimately get him fired and killed; he pulled out a sawed-off shotgun and blew Roy's hand off from the side. Roy just looked at his blooded stump of a hand,
"What have I done?" he muttered as he fell to the floor. "I am so sorry Ink, please forgive me!" The Ops team looked upon him with pity and disgust.
"Who knew that the mighty Roy Atlas would fall so easily?" Number One said with contempt unhidden in is voice.
"But you were just saying what a great man he was and how powerful he was in the helicopter ride over here!" Number Three exclaimed.
"I would change my opinion also" Number Two said in a monotone, "He is a sad and pitiful excuse for a human being that should live no longer, sadly we have orders to protect him from harm even though it wasn't in the contract." The team was so busy caught up in their conversation about the Brigadier General that they failed to notice the shifting and reforming body of Ink behind them.
"Uhh….Guys, look behind you…" Number five said loudly.
"What?" Number One muttered. They all turned around to see a ghastly contortion of mismatched body parts that every person there would unanimously agree that that thing was the most horrible abomination that they had ever seen in their years of being a secret Black Ops team for the military; It was shining blue color, its arms were elongated into spiked tendrils of writhing darkness, instead of legs there were massively deformed spider legs but there were 12 legs instead of 8 and some of them were so short that they didn't reach a third of the other legs, and the face, the face was so horrible that it could only be described with two words "Death Itself" it was a contorted mess; there were no pupils, just endless pits of black water. There was no nose, only a twisted stump. The mouth was strangely sideways and oozing a blue-black liquid that smoked and singed the wood floor wherever it touched; leaving black charred dots everywhere. Number Four already had noticed the creature and was suddenly unloading round after round into the creature from his M-16 rifle.
"Why won't you DIE!" Number Four yelled in fear, disbelief, and anger. "Die die die die die!"
"Oh my God!" Number One yelled. He pulled out a handheld Gatling gun and started to shoot literally thousands of rounds into the creature's torso. The team all did the same and pulled out their customized weapons and aimed point-blank at the creature's chest, face, and head. When they all had unloaded every single bullet that they had into the creature and heard the ominous 'click' of an empty gun, they looked at the creature that used to be Ink and watched as the thousands of bullets slid out of him with wet 'plop's, and the creature fell over dead and started bleeding blue-black blood on the floor. Soon it looked like it was lying in a puddle of, I daresay, ink.
"Well, that was exciting." Number One nonchalantly said.
"Did you pee your pants?" Number Two said with a small giggle as Number One looked down,
"I….. Uh… No?" Number One stammered as the rest of the team started to laugh. Number Four laughed loudly,
"Nothin' like Number One doin' something stupid to make everyone laugh!" Number Four said with a hoarse laugh. "We should get goin' so the Commander Servin doesn't get mad at us for slacking off again."
"I agree with Number Four, even if he did use amazingly bad grammar in that sentence multiple times. We should leave before the Commander jumps to conclusions like he always does." Number Two said in his usual monotone. Number Two gestured at the rest of the team and started to walk towards the overly large door, "Are any of you coming with me?"
"Yeah! Team, let's move out!" Number One said happily, "This place is starting to give me the creeps!"
"Wait, where did the Brigadier General go?" Number Five asked while he looked around.
"Oh crap" Number One said slowly as he looked at his team, "Where the hell did he go? We gotta find him!"
"Too late for that" Number Two said casually, "If he wanted to leave; then he would leave, if he did not want us to find him; then we would never find him no matter how long or hard we looked for him. He has mastery over the world around him; he can do almost anything if he puts his mind to it.
"How do you know that?" Number Three asked
"To join this team I had to do a report on Brigadier General Roy Atlas, you could choose three things; early life, military career, or special powers and abilities. You can guess which one I chose"
"Well that seems kind of" Number One thought for a while, "Lame, lame would be the word."
"Think what you want One, but remember to think softly; I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself and get a tumor or brain damage." Number Two retorted with a smirk. "Hurry up and get over here!"
The rest of the team started walking towards the exit where Number Two was standing and waiting for them. They all walked out together, side by side, out of the manor, and out of the courtyard toward an awaiting armored car. They all got in the car in numerical order from one to five.
"And this was fun One. You were right." Number Two finally said as the car started up and they started to drive off.
"I don't care Two, I really don't care."
When all was said and done that day no one would know or remember the tragedy that happened that day. Every person that took part of, heard, or saw what happened that day were graciously 'relocated' to better living spaces by the Military. As for Roy and Ink, their stories are not nearly complete yet. We still have a long way to go!
Another Author's Note (or A/N) Sorry how this took a really long time to get out, I had trouble with my schedule and getting it to work out. I also am sorry about how the earlier chapters were amazingly short, they WILL get longer! THIS I SWEAR! See yah! Author's Note complete.
