"For you, my friend, they are the angels of death."
-Man against monster. Monster against self. The story is as old as time. Living above us, below us, and among us, they assimilate themselves into our culture, and us into theirs. To the common man, they are simply known as night terrors, but to the initiated, they are the Darkstalkers-
EPISODE NINE: THE CITY VS JON TALBAIN
It was to be a busy day for the city of Pasadena, California. It was Election Day to be precise. The crowd of onlookers, easily thousands, had gathered right out on Main Street, which had been closed off for the ceremony.
A stretch limo pulled up, the black chrome and silver paintjob shining in the sun as a door slide open and a man in a suit stepped out. The crowd roared with cheers as former Mayor Stevenson held up his hand in a victory "V" sign.
The former mayor had been a favorite both publicly and politically. He was the hometown celebrity and he enjoyed every minute of it.
Somewhere in the crowd, a new resident of the city had turned out just to catch a glimpse of how politics were run here. He was legally known as Mr. J. Talbain.
Stevenson walked up to the podium, ready to give his speech, but before he made it, something that no one could have predicted happened. A shadowy form whirred by, and the mayor fell.
Someone in the crowd screamed. By the time the police showed up, sirens blazing and accompanied by the paramedics, a commotion had overtaken the crowd, though most of them simply stood in shock, unable to turn their eyes away.
The medics loaded the mayor's body on the stretcher and into the ambulance, but as one of them looked at his watch, it became clear that was a formality at this point.
Talbain was stunned, but only for a moment. He pushed through as best he could to the front of the crowd, still shaking at what he had seen.
Unbeknownst to him, somebody had noticed his presence, and that would prove to be the beginning of his own personal nightmare. "Werewolf!" a man's voice called out. A man with curly blonde hair in a red suit pointed towards Jon, "That one! I saw him transform a month ago! He must be the killer!"
Talbain looked around helplessly at the countless faces glowering at him. Two officers walked up to him and neither looked happy. One of them, a tall black man, stepped behind him, "Put your hands behind your back, darkstalker."
Talbain didn't want any trouble, especially at this point, and his face drenched with sweat, he did as told. The officer cuffed him, "You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in th-."
Talbain was sitting in a cell at the station. He had been stripped of his clothes and belongings for evidence, and the combination of the cold steel door and the thick cement walls made it impossible for even him to hear what was going on outside aside from the occasional sounds of footsteps or voices.
Finally, the cell door opened with a screech and a slam. An officer of the law that Jon recognized all to well was standing there, looking at him with pity. "This is more of you than I ever expected to see Johnny", Officer Makabaya admitted.
Jon was sitting inside a Plexiglas office with a locked door, now in a crappy beige jumpsuit. Officer Makabaya sat across from him. She was gravely concerned, "Jon, I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me what happened."
Talbain looked up at her pathetically, "I did nothing wrong. You know I wouldn't lie to you. But someone or something did kill Mayor Stevenson."
Tasha nodded, "That much I got from the report. Did you get a good look at it by any chance? If you can identify the murderer, I can maybe get you off as a witness."
Talbain lowered his head, "Just a flash of dark energy, then nothing."
Tasha bit her lip, "That's not going to convince my superiors." She stood up and turned to exit, then looked back at him, "I will get you off the hook, but it's going to take me some time and detective work, so hold out while I'm gone ok?"
Talbain said nothing: he simply kept his head hung as she left.
"GET IN THERE!" Talbain slammed against the wall of the concrete cell as the metal door slammed shut behind him. He sat down, back against the wall, and stared out the single window in the door through which the light shone on him. He had already begun forming a plan to clear his name.
Minutes turned into hours, and every creeping hour was an eternity of hell: cold, cruel loneliness that left him wondering how much longer his sanity would hold out.
Finally, some time after time itself had lost all meaning, the cell door opened. A guard looked to him with a grimace, "You have a visitor."
Talbain's eyes were having a hard time adjusting to the sudden bright lights and he winced them as he entered the room with the guard. When Jon saw who was waiting for him, he looked away, unable to face her, "Hello Felicia."
Felicia started to walk to him, but the guard stood in the way, "Sorry ma'am. The prisoners and visitors aren't allowed to touch for the safety of the visitors."
Felicia wanted to say, "Don't you mean for the safety of all you darkstalker fearing humans", but she kept her mouth shut and nodded. Talbain and Felicia sat on opposite sides of a desk and looked into each other's eyes.
Felicia looked at him with utmost concern, "Anything I can do?"
Jon sighed, "Not unless they'll allow you to give me a beer and a bullet to the head. Please, don't look at me like this: I'm not supposed to be a criminal."
Felicia looked a bit cross, "Well newsflash: you're NOT. I hope they haven't broken you down in that dungeon because you're the last person I ever thought I'd see crack. Tasha's doing her best. We all are. You've got to be strong. For me!"
Talbain looked up at her for the last part, "I might be bad for you."
Felicia only grinned, "I'm attracted to that whole 'bad boy' thing."
The guard stepped forward, "It's time."
Talbain nodded, and stood to follow the guard out, but turned back to Felicia, "I will wait for you. They can't break this." He returned the smile.
Talbain sat at the lunch table eating his soup. Or maybe it was a casserole. Well, whatever the stuff was it was god-awful but he hadn't eaten since yesterday and he wasn't going to be picky about it as long as his belly was full.
Someone walked by, slamming his face down into the bowl and laughing a deep, hearty laugh. Jon looked up to see a large man with a beard.
The man grinned down at him with golden teeth, "Got a problem shrimp?"
Talbain snapped, "Only that I'd like to rip off your oversized balls and shove them down your throat human." His eyes flashed yellow.
The man backed away, "Woah! I was clownin' dawgz!"
The guards saw it and walked up, grabbing Talbain by the arms and restraining him. He could have easily handled them, but the shine of their badges caught his attention and he settled down, remembering he had to prove his innocence.
As the guards slammed him up against a cold, hard wall he closed his eyes, "I give: I'll go quietly."
Later that day, as he was sitting alone in his cell, the door opened and a pair of guards stood outside it, "Come with us, Mr. Talbain."
Talbain stood up and followed them. The walk seemed to go on forever though through various areas of the police station. Finally, they stopped in a back room and motioned for Talbain to go inside.
Again, Talbain did as told and he heard the door slam and lock behind him. He turned to face the two guards. They were grinning at him.
One guard cracked his knuckles, "So you think you're better than us, werewolf?"
The other guard pulled out a silver gun, "Let's see how good you are now."
Talbain's eyes widened, "Back off!"
The guards walked forward at him, "We make the rules here."
Three shots fired. The smoke cleared and one of the guards was choking, Talbain's arm around his neck. "Get me out or I'll snap it", he growled low.
That evening, a lone figure stood on a hill exiting the city and into the country beyond: the county of Claysburg. Talbain took a look at his tattered jumpsuit, then one last look at the city he would leave forever, "Goodbye Felicia. Someday, we'll have our chance. Someday, when all your dreams of peace come true."
DARKSTALKERS: THE SERIES WRITTEN BY REGIS A WELCH DARKSTALKERS © 2004 CAPCOM
-Man against monster. Monster against self. The story is as old as time. Living above us, below us, and among us, they assimilate themselves into our culture, and us into theirs. To the common man, they are simply known as night terrors, but to the initiated, they are the Darkstalkers-
EPISODE NINE: THE CITY VS JON TALBAIN
It was to be a busy day for the city of Pasadena, California. It was Election Day to be precise. The crowd of onlookers, easily thousands, had gathered right out on Main Street, which had been closed off for the ceremony.
A stretch limo pulled up, the black chrome and silver paintjob shining in the sun as a door slide open and a man in a suit stepped out. The crowd roared with cheers as former Mayor Stevenson held up his hand in a victory "V" sign.
The former mayor had been a favorite both publicly and politically. He was the hometown celebrity and he enjoyed every minute of it.
Somewhere in the crowd, a new resident of the city had turned out just to catch a glimpse of how politics were run here. He was legally known as Mr. J. Talbain.
Stevenson walked up to the podium, ready to give his speech, but before he made it, something that no one could have predicted happened. A shadowy form whirred by, and the mayor fell.
Someone in the crowd screamed. By the time the police showed up, sirens blazing and accompanied by the paramedics, a commotion had overtaken the crowd, though most of them simply stood in shock, unable to turn their eyes away.
The medics loaded the mayor's body on the stretcher and into the ambulance, but as one of them looked at his watch, it became clear that was a formality at this point.
Talbain was stunned, but only for a moment. He pushed through as best he could to the front of the crowd, still shaking at what he had seen.
Unbeknownst to him, somebody had noticed his presence, and that would prove to be the beginning of his own personal nightmare. "Werewolf!" a man's voice called out. A man with curly blonde hair in a red suit pointed towards Jon, "That one! I saw him transform a month ago! He must be the killer!"
Talbain looked around helplessly at the countless faces glowering at him. Two officers walked up to him and neither looked happy. One of them, a tall black man, stepped behind him, "Put your hands behind your back, darkstalker."
Talbain didn't want any trouble, especially at this point, and his face drenched with sweat, he did as told. The officer cuffed him, "You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in th-."
Talbain was sitting in a cell at the station. He had been stripped of his clothes and belongings for evidence, and the combination of the cold steel door and the thick cement walls made it impossible for even him to hear what was going on outside aside from the occasional sounds of footsteps or voices.
Finally, the cell door opened with a screech and a slam. An officer of the law that Jon recognized all to well was standing there, looking at him with pity. "This is more of you than I ever expected to see Johnny", Officer Makabaya admitted.
Jon was sitting inside a Plexiglas office with a locked door, now in a crappy beige jumpsuit. Officer Makabaya sat across from him. She was gravely concerned, "Jon, I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me what happened."
Talbain looked up at her pathetically, "I did nothing wrong. You know I wouldn't lie to you. But someone or something did kill Mayor Stevenson."
Tasha nodded, "That much I got from the report. Did you get a good look at it by any chance? If you can identify the murderer, I can maybe get you off as a witness."
Talbain lowered his head, "Just a flash of dark energy, then nothing."
Tasha bit her lip, "That's not going to convince my superiors." She stood up and turned to exit, then looked back at him, "I will get you off the hook, but it's going to take me some time and detective work, so hold out while I'm gone ok?"
Talbain said nothing: he simply kept his head hung as she left.
"GET IN THERE!" Talbain slammed against the wall of the concrete cell as the metal door slammed shut behind him. He sat down, back against the wall, and stared out the single window in the door through which the light shone on him. He had already begun forming a plan to clear his name.
Minutes turned into hours, and every creeping hour was an eternity of hell: cold, cruel loneliness that left him wondering how much longer his sanity would hold out.
Finally, some time after time itself had lost all meaning, the cell door opened. A guard looked to him with a grimace, "You have a visitor."
Talbain's eyes were having a hard time adjusting to the sudden bright lights and he winced them as he entered the room with the guard. When Jon saw who was waiting for him, he looked away, unable to face her, "Hello Felicia."
Felicia started to walk to him, but the guard stood in the way, "Sorry ma'am. The prisoners and visitors aren't allowed to touch for the safety of the visitors."
Felicia wanted to say, "Don't you mean for the safety of all you darkstalker fearing humans", but she kept her mouth shut and nodded. Talbain and Felicia sat on opposite sides of a desk and looked into each other's eyes.
Felicia looked at him with utmost concern, "Anything I can do?"
Jon sighed, "Not unless they'll allow you to give me a beer and a bullet to the head. Please, don't look at me like this: I'm not supposed to be a criminal."
Felicia looked a bit cross, "Well newsflash: you're NOT. I hope they haven't broken you down in that dungeon because you're the last person I ever thought I'd see crack. Tasha's doing her best. We all are. You've got to be strong. For me!"
Talbain looked up at her for the last part, "I might be bad for you."
Felicia only grinned, "I'm attracted to that whole 'bad boy' thing."
The guard stepped forward, "It's time."
Talbain nodded, and stood to follow the guard out, but turned back to Felicia, "I will wait for you. They can't break this." He returned the smile.
Talbain sat at the lunch table eating his soup. Or maybe it was a casserole. Well, whatever the stuff was it was god-awful but he hadn't eaten since yesterday and he wasn't going to be picky about it as long as his belly was full.
Someone walked by, slamming his face down into the bowl and laughing a deep, hearty laugh. Jon looked up to see a large man with a beard.
The man grinned down at him with golden teeth, "Got a problem shrimp?"
Talbain snapped, "Only that I'd like to rip off your oversized balls and shove them down your throat human." His eyes flashed yellow.
The man backed away, "Woah! I was clownin' dawgz!"
The guards saw it and walked up, grabbing Talbain by the arms and restraining him. He could have easily handled them, but the shine of their badges caught his attention and he settled down, remembering he had to prove his innocence.
As the guards slammed him up against a cold, hard wall he closed his eyes, "I give: I'll go quietly."
Later that day, as he was sitting alone in his cell, the door opened and a pair of guards stood outside it, "Come with us, Mr. Talbain."
Talbain stood up and followed them. The walk seemed to go on forever though through various areas of the police station. Finally, they stopped in a back room and motioned for Talbain to go inside.
Again, Talbain did as told and he heard the door slam and lock behind him. He turned to face the two guards. They were grinning at him.
One guard cracked his knuckles, "So you think you're better than us, werewolf?"
The other guard pulled out a silver gun, "Let's see how good you are now."
Talbain's eyes widened, "Back off!"
The guards walked forward at him, "We make the rules here."
Three shots fired. The smoke cleared and one of the guards was choking, Talbain's arm around his neck. "Get me out or I'll snap it", he growled low.
That evening, a lone figure stood on a hill exiting the city and into the country beyond: the county of Claysburg. Talbain took a look at his tattered jumpsuit, then one last look at the city he would leave forever, "Goodbye Felicia. Someday, we'll have our chance. Someday, when all your dreams of peace come true."
DARKSTALKERS: THE SERIES WRITTEN BY REGIS A WELCH DARKSTALKERS © 2004 CAPCOM