Evan Drake's Unrepentant Bitches Chapter 4: the Golden Age
January 30th 1980, A classroom in Boise Idaho.
"I wish this wasn't goodbye Ms. Frizzle. You've been such a great role model for me over the years." Nine-year-old Heather Chandler said.
"You were always one of the goodest girls in my class. Bring your good spirit to Boston and never let anybody corrupt your soul." Mrs. Frizzle replied.
"If only my dad didn't get that big promotion. If he wasn't needed in the big city I could stay here and continue to do good deeds with all of my good peers like Leopold 'Butters' Stotch and Amelia Bedelia. Unfortunately I need to say goodbye to the good people gang." Heather covered her eyes with her hand and placed the last daily apple she'd give Ms. Frizzle. She didn't want her beloved teacher to see her crying as she walked out her door for the last time.
May 15th 1988, A back room of the Diamond Ballroom.
"Can you make this quick? I always hate leaving my wife all alone and I'm trying to enjoy the party." Negan said. He placed his legs firmly on top of Rasputin's desk. For one moment Rasputin was terrified, probably afraid of the bat Negan was using for balance, but regained composure quickly.
"I know what the girl did to you." Rasputin chose to ignore how rude Negan was being. The desk was made of pure mahogany and mud on his boot was seeping into the wood. "You can get your revenge."
"I can get it myself. I have a bat, I have an arm. I can swing with the big leagues Rasputin."
"And kill your 'Oh so beloved' mother's friend? Think of what poor little Lucy would say. She wouldn't be happy." Rasputin's words caused Negan to scowl.
"She's never happy Ras. What do you even want?"
"Nothing, nothing at all. Really. All I need is a voice that can be heard on the other side." A twisted smile creeped across Rasputin's face. This wasn't the kind of smile you'd get after your first bite into a donut, this was the smile of a man hiding something.
"So you're saying you want me to spy on my own mother-in-law?" Negan's hand gripped his trusty bat even harder.
"You misunderstand me Negan. I won't be collecting my payment for 20 years. You'll just need to make one friend, a boy my voice can't reach. A boy named Jason Dean."
"If he's that important why can't you get him yourself?" Negan asked. He placed his legs off Rasputin's desk and started towards the door. The clicking sound from the turn of the knob was completely drowned out by Rasputin's voice.
"That right there's the ticker Negan. I can't get the boy because I can't leave this pretty old town." Negan stopped before he was able to get through the door fully.
"You mean to say you can't leave Little Rock?" Negan asked.
"I'm sorry, that's a force of habit. Town is a poor choice of words. It'd probably be better to describe it as a prison." A creeping darkness filled the room. "It's a crying shame, even though only two of us truly know about the true nature of this place, we're the only ones who can't leave."
June 30th 1988, a few minutes later, the Swiss Alps.
After a moment of contemplation All Might threw his strongest punch directly into Rasputin's squishy underbelly. He pulled his right hand back and threw the same punch again. The two blows alone had created a small fracture in Rasputin's arm. He winced in pain. "I was really enjoying that conversation All Might. Why'd you have to go and-." Rasputin was cut off by a left hook to the head. He spit one tooth out after he recovered from the blow, "ruin it."
"We've been around this block how many times now Rasputin? You know how this works. I know you've already won the war, it always happens, but I'm winning this battle and I'm taking your life." All Might was immediately throwing his left. A powerful uppercut connected with Rasputin's jaw. All Might's fist hit Rasputin's chin slightly faster than he had expected it to come out. "I always forget about that jump. A personal favorite of mine" He called with a laugh and started to move into a flurry of punches. All Might's unrepentant bitches could only sit by and watch in a strange combination of amazement and terror. Each punch seemed like it was far more power than Rasputin would be able to withstand, in moments he would be no more.
July 23, 1986, the Lillian Corporation Boston Headquarters.
Evan Drake's right hand skyrocketed backwards. The cup of hot tea he was sipping crashed into his face and shattered from the momentum of Evan's pull. "I always forget about this jump. Ugh." Evan thought as the hot liquid dripped from his nose to the cartoon penguin on his tie.
"Are you okay Mr. Drake?" An intern asked. The boy rushed to the door, apparently to grab some tissues from the secretary outside, but Evan stopped him before he could leave.
"Just a muscle spasm, I get those from time to time. Nothing to worry about." Evan had experienced jumping through time countless times by now and was mostly used to it. One thing he'd learned about the jumps early on is that the nerves don't recognize that you've jumped until it's a second too late. Your body may be in a completely different position but it will move just as it was the instant you jumped. This made running difficult for the first few hundred cycles, at any second he could be anywhere on the planet years in the future, or fifteen feet away from himself moments before. Mr. Drake understood that Time and darkness didn't mix too well and the timeline being fractured was part of this but it was difficult to remember exactly when the jumps would be. "Can you send for my lunch?"
"You've already eaten Mr. Drake. It's 4:30, the days about to end." His intern said.
"Why does it always have to be 4:30. Why can't I get jumped to noon for once." Evan thought, placing his head on his desk in annoyance. "Okay then get me." Evan had to think for a moment. He hadn't actually eaten in a years (the fractures always seemed to magically skip over mealtimes, but he always received energy from the meals that were skipped) and had long since forgotten which flavors were his favorites. "Get me a filet mignon, no a porterhouse, actually a strip steak could be good. You know kid, just bring me a big mac, maybe just this once I'll be able to eat it bef"
?
After a reset, Rasputin always forgot what the afterlife. Whenever a reset came, he knew he'd died but what happened to him after was a blur. so once again he knew nothing of his surroundings. If he ever jumped to a point earlier in time he'd forget until he returned. Rasputin wasn't even sure it was the afterlife. he'd assumed it was because when he found himself awake he was a zombie and was sure wherever he'd landed wasn't on earth. His scattered body parts scuttled their selves back together. He was lying down, his face pressed on a hard cobblestone road. Small wooden buildings that seemed like they had been built in Colonial America littered the street he was resting upon. While he struggled to regain his strength a horse drawn carriage ran him over. Rasputin pulled himself to his legs as a young boy crossed his eye.
The child was on crutches. It looked like he could be no older than seven and one of his legs was shorter than the other by just a hair. As Rasputin worked to push the dirt off of his clothing the boy limped toward him. What started as a slow crawl got faster and faster. The closer the boy got the faster he was limping. Though he was an evil man, Rasputin was worried the boy would trip. The boy's smile warmed Rasputin's cold heart.
"Mayor Rasputin, you're back!" The boy sobbed and embraced Rasputin. Though he was small the boy had intense grip strength and once he'd caught Rasputin in a hug, he would not let go.
"I'm the mayor of this town?" Rasputin was confused.
"Yes. Mr. Mayor. You are indeed the mayor of Globulite. You've been in charge for thousands of years. You may disappear for a while but you always come back which is why you were named mayor for eternity." The boy said, finally releasing his grip.
The boy's infectious joy overcame Rasputin's gloomy demeanor. "I'm the mayor then. Mayor of Globulite!" his words bellowed out, the sound waves echoed through the streets around him. Cheers could be heard from all directions, the people were excited that their mayor had returned. "Why don't you show me around young boy?"
The young child hobbled Rasputin to a large statue of a man with long white hair. He had a beautiful sword raised to the sky. Children played around the fountain and called to the boy, but he lead Rasputin along the way to the large building. The building was completely grey, and adorned with Corinthian columns. The roof was domed, and the top sat a statue of Rasputin pressing a gun to the forehead of some woman whose face couldn't seen. "Welcome back to city hall Mr. Mayor"
Rasputin wanted to know more about the statue that stood at the top. "What, pray tell is that?" He asked.
"A monument to your eternal fight against the unrepentant witch." The boy stopped to salute Rasputin's statue.
"And who would that be?" Rasputin asked again.
"She doesn't live in Globulite. She appears every once a decade, destroys your throne, and leaves." The boy lowered his arm, grabbed a pistol from his coat pocket and fired it forward in the same way Rasputin was in the statue.
"What's so special about the throne?" Rasputin asked.
"Why don't I show you?" The boy replied and took Rasputin into city hall. There was a beautiful chair made of a green gemstone Rasputin couldn't put a name to. It had one red cushion but was otherwise unadorned. A light shined on it. A basic look over of the city hall told Rasputin that the room was designed so that wherever the sun was, it's light would shine on the throne. "Every ten years it magically reforms itself. Legends say that if you're sitting in it at the end of the ten year period your curse will be lifted, and you won't have to go away anymore."
"Is that so?" Rasputin stroked his beard. "Then this time we'll have to make sure it has extra security."
February 3, 1980, Boston Massachusetts
"Welcome to Boston Heather, we'll be your guides to how to be cool in the city." Nine Year old Skeletor took nine year old Heather Chandler by the hand and pushed her onto the swing set. With a hearty shove his trusted companion nine year old the juggernaut got Heather moving through the air.
"This isn't very nice of you boys. I don't want to swing right now" Heather shrieked.
"Ehh, Nice is overrated. Regina George, Yukako Yamagishi, the Juggernaut, Miranda Priestley, Serena van der Woodsen, Blair Waldorf, Ivan Drago, Stan Gable, Biff Tannen, Johnny Lawrence and I will show you how to be cool. We'll be the best of friends until all of us go to different high schools and never speak of each other again."
April 7, 2019 The Continental United States.
"And that is the full story of how I had to fight my best friend to the death after her ex killed one of my unrepentant bitches in a cruel revenge scheme." All Might said. Even though his heart was breaking recounting the tale of Heather's sacrifice All Might kept his smile shining brighter than the sun. Venting about bitches and friends lost was just what he needed to motivate himself to keep fighting on.
April 20, 2420 The Continental United States
"You know All Might," Dialga said. "That story really put things in"
June 19, 2008, Spear Pillar
"Perspective."
"Why did you just say perspective like that? Is that you trying to hide your best cards?" The next thing Dialga knew, he was in the middle of a poker game with Groudon, Rayquaza, Reshiram, and Yveltal. It was a poker game he remembered very well. In just a few moments Yveltal would throw his cards onto the table, say the game was bullshit and fly off to raze Jubilife City with his classic death beams.
Yveltal Threw his cards onto the table. "This game is
The radio shack in Times Square
Everything that ever happened in the space that occupied that one Radio Shack in times square happened at the exact same time. Every living being who even once stepped foot in that radio shack screamed in excruciating agony. The building was being turned to rubble from its demolition, hot like the surface of the Earth in the age of the dinosaurs, cold like the vast expanse of outer space, and being built at the exact same time. Children were born there. A man was stabbed in his kidney. Every Black Friday sale went on that the exact same time. It was truly a nightmare
September 17th, 1863. 3:15 PM sharp
All of the universe coalesced into one single point at 3:15 on September 17th 1863. If there was enough space for any one person to scream, they would be screaming in excruciating agony. The pressure of infinite black holes pulled everything that was in existence at the time together into this one single point that in that moment became space. They'd remember the pain forevermore.
AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
"DIALGA! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!" Elsa yelled in terror as the universe crumbled around her. Some said it took her five years for the sentence to leave her mouth. Others said it appeared instantly.
"Palkia is gone. Without him space is ceasing to exist and without anything to balance time it's starting to fracture." Dialga tried to slam his arm legs into the ground but the ground disappeared into nothingness below him. He began to seep into an abyss. Dialga assumed it was the qliphoth but in reality he was seeping into an expanse that reached nowhere because down no longer existed.
"It's already fractured. Somebody needs to take Palkia's place." Giratina said. The lack of space and fracture in time caused Giratina to be warped to All Might and Company.
"I will do it." Thomas Sowell floated through the emptiness toward Giratina. "It's my fault we're all in this mess I will be the one to take care of it." He said.
"Giratina and I can summon Arceus to dub you the new spatial lord but you don't have enough strength to withstand the power. This will probably wipe your consciousness clean." Dialga said as he fell from nothingness to nothingness that was slightly higher than the nothingness Thomas Sowell occupied.
"It must be done to atone for my sins." Thomas said. There was no emotion to his words. He felt no guilt, he felt no shame, he felt no pride. He only felt understanding. Dialga and Giratina grabbed each other by the arm legs and in [time no longer exists] Arceus was there. It's golden antler back shined gloriously.
"What does this mean?" Thomas Sowell asked as he too began to glow.
"You are his new Vessel." Giratina said with even less emotion. Thomas Sowell did not respond. He would stand there, glowing, keeping space from falling apart for all of eternity.
April 7, 2019 The Continental United States.
"That didn't fully solve the problem." Dialga said. "We still have the fractured time to deal with. It has no space to inhabit so it will just keep fracturing ad infinitum until all of the universe is jumping through time every second."
"Can we do anything with the fractured time? Maybe tie it to another dimension? A world outside a world between worlds maybe." Said immortal cripple Tiny Tim who was there the whole time. "Dialga could place it at the beginning of time and have it fracture forever, but repeat itself, never to bother the universe that abandoned it."
"That's just crazy enough to work, but time needs to be bound to something. Time is essentially change, and if it affects nothing the fractures will amplify and continue to destroy our world." Dialga started running calculations in his mind. Tiny Tim's idea worked in theory, but there was something missing he'd overlooked.
"Then we tie it to my darkness. Rather than spacetime, this fractured existence will be known as Darktime." Giratina called from the shadows he rested in.
"That doesn't do anything to combat the lack of change. If things repeat their selves in the same way over and over again the fractures will continue to amplify." Dialga sighed in defeat. At any moment time would be fractured forever and all of history would be jumping between itself.
"Then put me in the Darktime." All Might kept his smile going even though he was more afraid than ever. He had no idea what the Darktime would be like but knew that if it meant keeping the universe safe it was a sacrifice he'd need to make. "If it needs change to stay stable, I as an emissary of spacetime will provide that change."
"That's very noble of you All Might, but there's no way your idea will work. We'll need two, three probably, emissaries to keep the Darktime stable." Dialga said.
"Then it's a good thing I know just who to take with me." All Might was no longer giving a smile to reassure those around him that good times were coming. This was the smile of someone who was about to get revenge.
?
"She's coming! The Unrepentant Witch rises once again." Rasputin sat on his throne as the calls bellowed through town hall. According to the calculations, it was almost time for the next reset. If Rasputin could stay on his throne for another few months he'd be able to escape the Darktime for good. The strongest mages in Globulite rushed at the sound of words multiple men, women, and children cried. Each prepared their most powerful spell, ready to fire as soon as the unrepentant witch slid into view. Her red hair seemed to burn as she walked through the columns of Globulite town hall and in an instant hundreds of fireballs were launched her way. The unrepentant witch walked through the blasts with only a single flam igniting a small part of her hair.
"You must be the unrepentant witch. You're tougher than I'd expected." Rasputin scoffed as the woman continued to walk forward. He pulled out his gun and pointed it directly at her. The woman walked by unphased. She continued pressing forward until his gun was pressed directly on her forehead. "But I can't believe you were truly so stupid as to walk right to me." Rasputin pulled the trigger. The bullet collided with the unrepentant witch and for a moment after there was silence.
"Oh Rasputin you weak minded fool." The unrepentant witch said.
INTRODUCING ALL MIGHT'S UNREPENTANT WITCH: DEMOLTIONS INTERN HEATHER CHANDLER
"Killing me once did nothing, do you really think trying it again would do anything?" Heather said as she pulled the pin out of her favorite grenade.
"You bitch." Rasputin cried as he slapped Heather Chandler with his pistol.
"Why don't you call me something I don't already know I am." Heather replied with a laugh as the grenade exploded, destroying the Throne and Rasputin with it.
December 31, 1989. Cheers, Boston Massachusetts.
"This round is served on the house in memory of Heather Chandler. She was a mythic bitch and went too early. We'll all miss her immensely." Rebecca said as she poured everyone a full glass of champagne.
"Try to be modest Young Rebecca. We're still on my dime here." All Might said with a grin as he poured the champagne down his throat in one gulp.
"I'm sorry Mr. Drake- err. All Might, sorry I know it's been over a year but I'm still not quite used to it." Rebecca said.
"Can you scuzbrains, the ball's dropping." Carla said as the gang at Cheers began to count.
"Ten" Fraiser cried
"Nine" woody beeped from the bottom of his robot heart unit.
"Eight" Sam laughed.
"Now there's something real interesting about the number seven" Cliff said through his beer.
"Six" Rebecca chanted with glee.
"Five" Lillith hated watching the ball drop, but loved to see her Husband having fun so just this once she played along.
"Well, this was a good cycle I guess." All Might thought to himself. He looked across the bar loaded with his friends, peers, and customers. The end of the decade was always bittersweet. Once again he'd stopped Rasputin before he could create a zombie army but he was unable to protect his most unrepentant bitch Heather Chandler. "Well, here we go again. Another day"
January 1, 1980. The Lillian Corporation Boston Headquarters
"Another Decade." Evan Drake was all alone in his office. The loneliness was always the worst part of the reset. At the end of the decade all of his friends would forget all about him. They'd forget the adventures. They'd forget the beers they poured. They'd forget the beers they drank. They'd forget that they were ever Evan Drake's Unrepentant Bitches and once again would be called to action. Some of the people he'd remeet over the next ten years would be called to their deaths.
Evan Drake sighed and picked up his phone. He dialed the same ten numbers he'd pressed in countless times before with a melancholic glance over the Boston Skyline. "Mr. Chandler, hello, and Happy New Year. Can I interest you in a promotion? Pays great. The only catch is you need to move to Boston." For the first time that decade Evan Drake smiled. "Bring your family with you. I'm sure they'll love it."
THE END.