Uh, Hey guys. I know, I know, it's been a while. To long in fact. I really don't have any excuse for keeping my readers in the dark for so long. So here it is, a new chapter that I've slowly but surley been working towards. I hope you like it. I tried really hard to capture the feeling of the story that I started with. If some parts feel rushed or out of place, I'm sorry; I have found that being out this long led to me having some serious writers block.

Anyway, enjoy that chapter. I've already begun polishing up the next part of the story and I can promise you that it's not far off.

Thanks for hanging in there,

Y.W III

Rough and Knuckles had found a nice place in the heart of station square. By now, the sun was beginning to set, and large groups of people strolled the sidewalks, while cars moved in hoards through the streets.

The darker it got and the more lights came on, the more intense the city seemed to get. That was how Rouge had wanted it. To be around to experience the craziness of night life in Station square.

Well, it was more for Knuckles than her. She's been around this place at night plenty of times.

Inside the restaurant, the two found themselves a nice table by the window. The waiter had already come by with drink orders, leaving them with a few minutes to talk.

"So Knucks, what do you think?"

Knuckles glanced around the room.

"Well, it's decorated nicely."

Rouge rolled her eyes.

"You really are stubborn."

Knuckles seemed caught off guard. He gave her an odd stare.

"Hey, what do you mean?"

"You're still stubborn. I meant me. What do you think about me?"

Knuckles cleared his throat.

"Oh, umm, you look good. Real nice outfit."

Rouge sighed. Knuckles was dodging her questions. It was going to take something to get him to truly express himself, but at the moment she had no idea what.

The waiter showed up with the drinks; Rouge had a martini, while Knuckles enjoyed a soda. They placed their orders and the waiter disappeared back to the kitchen again. The two sipped at their drinks quietly.

"That looks good," Knuckles said, glancing at the glass in her hand, "What do those taste like?"

Rouge looked up

"I thought you didn't drink."

"Doesn't mean I can't be curious."

Something suddenly clicked in Rouge's head. He was curious. Maybe if she got him drunk she could get through to him and get him to express his feelings. She smiled slyly.

"It's nothing but a vodka martini."

"Shaken, not stirred, right?"

"I'm not James Bond."

Knuckles laughed.

"Boy, I sure hope not."

He nodded at the glass.

"Let me try."

She willingly handed the glass to him. Knuckles took a small sip at first, and after letting the taste settle, suddenly downed it in one shot. Rouge was stunned.

"Well, you certainly finished that quickly."

"That was great." I should figure out how they make these."

Rouge smiled again.

"Oh, don't worry hunny. More are coming on."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jason walked quick and silent through the crowded streets, his Machete sheathed at his side. The surroundings were not to unfamiliar to him, as he had been in such a setting before. But this place made Manhattan look like a rural backwater town. The buildings were bigger, there were twice as many attractions and sights, and the lights; everywhere he looked he could see lights. His child like mind was in awe.

But Jason wasn't there to admire the scenery. Unbeknown to people walking along around him, without giving him a second glance, he was looking into windows of various stores and restaurants looking for his prey. The vice of Doctor Eggman would pop upp in his head every now and then, reminding him of this.

"Find them and eliminate them, Jason. Do it for your mother!"

It was just more motivation. He was a man on a mission and nothing was going to get in his way.

Nothing that is, except a group of teenagers hanging out in front of a restaurant.

There were three of them; all wearing dark cloths and odd colored hair. Jason looked ahead at the group and gave them an odd look; but only one even gave him a glance. They were to busy listening to loud metal music that was emanating from a boom box on the sidewalk near them.

Jason seemed to shrug, and then continued walking. In his stride, his boot connected with the boom box, punting it several feet into the air and letting it come crashing down to the concrete in pieces. The group of teens was stunned.

"Hey fucker!" one of them yelled.

Jason stopped. He slowly turned his head to look behind him. The group had all stood up and lined up on the sidewalk, each holding some sort of weapon. Two held chains, while another had a large dagger.

"You think you can just come through here and kick our shit around, scumbag?"

Jason looked over the weapons, then the expression on their faces. His eyes narrowed as he slowly turned around so he was facing them entirely. The hardened teenagers didn't even flinch; years of living on the streets had apparently hardened them against any intimidation.

"We're going to fuck you up good, dog," one of them blurted out.

Jason wasn't impressed. He had other targets in mind and didn't want to waste his time. He glanced around at the surrounding environment, looking for some sign of his intended prey. Then he caught it. He slowly turned back to restaurant window that the teenagers were in front of. There, in the widow were Rouge and Knuckles. Knuckles had a few empty glasses in front of him, and he was laughing his ass off at something. He was wasted.

For a long moment, Jason stared at his prey. The teenagers exchanged confused glances, one of them finally being persuaded to get his attention.

"Hey bitch, listen when we're talking to you!" He went to punch Jason across the face. Without even looking, the masked psycho grabbed his wrist and twisted it, unleashing a sickening crunch that seemed to echo down the streets. The teenager screamed in agony, while his friends stood stunned as Jason's red eyes slowly turned back to them.

Inside the restaurant, knuckles and rouge were oblivious to what was going on outside. Knuckles couldn't control himself for anything, and Rouge was just enjoying him making an ass out of himself.

"You knowwwwhat I think…?" Knuckles asked, slurring his words together, "You are beautiful. We really should have kidssssometime."

Rouge laughed.

"Well, I glad you feel that way."

"I'm serious. You and me can really make annnninmapct. On each other"

"I'd enjoy that, really."

"Well then, let it happen. We'll make an impact. Impact, I tell ya."

As he said the word impact, the window shattered at the teenager from before came flying through, landing smack on their table. Blood streamed from his forehead and his shattered wrist. He was dead.

Rough and Knuckles both turned and looked just in time to see Jason, standing beside the window, staring as the two teenagers hauled ass into the distance. Once they were gone, Jason slowly turned his attention to his real prey.

Knuckles looked confused. He glanced from Jason, to the teenager a few times.

"Maybe we should have ordered a table for three?" He asked, oblivious to the real danger of the situation.

Rouge glanced over Jason. Right away, her eyes caught sight of the machete in it's sheath.

"Knuckles, I think we better go. Now." She said, quietly.

The other people around that part of the restaurant had either left or simply moved. But now suddenly, the manager came out. He took one look at the devastation and his face turned a dark shade of red.

"You!' he exclaimed, pointing at Jason. "Who the hell do you think you are? You expect to get away with this? You're sorry ass is going to be paying for all this. I'm gonna call the cops, you son of a bitch!"

He turned to walk away, but no more than two steps and shuddered. People around him screamed in horror. Dumbly, he looked down at his stomach. The tip of the machete was poking out the front, blood and intestinal bits dripping off. His eyes rolled over in his head, and he collapsed onto the floor, now a corpse.

People began to flee the place now. It was panic. Jason slowly stepped over the ruble, from the street into the building. Rouge and Knuckles both jumped back in shock as the psychopath stood before them, his red eyes glaring down at them.

Knuckles glanced from Jason, to Rouge, and then back.

"Maybe we should have set a table for three?"

Before Rouge could respond to his stupid statement, Jason stepped off the table toward them. Rouge, sensing that they were out of their league, tried to urge knuckles to the door.

"Come on, Knuckles. Let's go!"

Knuckles shook her off.

"Hey now, this guy has interrupted our fine dinner. I can't let that go."

He turned back to Jason, who was standing in his place and staring oddly at the red animal before him.

"Hey," he said, putting up his fists, "If you wanna go, let's go now!"

Jason tilted his head. He was just confused slightly by the fact that this thing wasn't running from him like everyone else. He wasn't used to this.

With a seemingly indifferent shrug, Jason stepped down off the table, in the same motion reaching for his machete and pulling it out of the manager's body. Standing on the floor, the masked zombie still towered over Knuckles. But yet the still tipsy animal seemed even more sure of himself.

"Good. Now you're a size lower. Easier to tear apart!"

With that, Knuckles charged Jason. The masked killer seemed to be caught off guard as the impact carried both him and Knuckles across the resurant and out the side wall.

Now the fight was outside in the street. The smaller Knuckles got to his feet first, fists ready.

"Let's go, big guy!"

Jason glared at him as he regained his footing. The two stood amongst the rubble from the resurant, eyes locked on eachother. A few frightened people gathered a good distance away. Most of the people in town knew Knuckles, and they were all hoping that he would handle ths monster thay had suddenly invaded their town.

The stand-off was short lived. Jason made the first move; swiftly moving toward the red target like a bull in a rodeo. But Knuckles was faster. In one quick move he got behind Jason and delivered a series of powerful punches into the back of his head. The hocky masked killer groaned and stumbled forward, then recovered in a lightning fast motion, quickly swinging back around with the machete thrust outward. Knuckles in his still intoxicated state anticipated it a split second to late and the tip of the blade caught his arm, cutting a shallow but long gash from his elbow to his shoulder.

The small creature jumped back in pain, holding his wound, blood pouring over his white gloves.

Jason moved forward slowly, his bloodstained weapon gleaming in the glow of the streetlights.

From atop a building across the street, Rouge looked on in shock as her boyfriend took a beating.

"I need to do something," she thought to herself, "But what? I could get Sonic but by the time I get there knuckles could be dead."

She was lost. It seemed that there was nothing she could do.

But suddenly, her expression lifted as a realization hit her like a wet sandbag.

"Hello," she told herself, smacking her forhead for not thinking about it right away. "Wings! I can fly around and distract the big guy long enough for Knux to get his act together."

She spread her wing and stared at Jason, who was in the process of slamming knuckles head into a lamp post.

"Nobody messes with my man."

She lept off the building and soared like a bullet toward Jason.

On the ground, Jason was moving to pick knuckles up for another toss. His red eyes glowed with hatred as his gloved hand closed around the animal's neck and lifted him off the ground. He brought the gasping animal to eye level, and both stared into eachother; one staring with pure evil, the other with hidden fear. Jason slowly raised his machete into position, ready to drive it through knuckle's head.

Suddenly, Everything collapsed. Killer and animal both fell to the ground in a heap. To knuckles, who was on the verge of blacking out, everything seemed to be a dream. As he slowly struggled to regain full consiousness, he saw Jason face down on the road and, looking up, saw Rouge hovering above him, her face full of anger. In her hand was a large pice of rubble.

"You know, a girl can get reall "batty" when you mess around with her close, close friends."

She turned to knuckles.

"You alright, Knux?"

The stunned animal stared up at his girlfriend.

"Uh, fine. Never Better."

He moved to get up, but winced as the pain overwhelmed him. Rouge flew down and slowly lifted him up off the ground.

"We need to get you to a hospital. Come on."

She began to fly off, when suddenly, Jason's hand reached up and grasped Knuckles ankle. The serial killer began pulling both back down, slowly raising the machete to cut them to pieces. Thinking fast, Rouge threw the pice of rubble still in her hand. It pegged Jason right in the face, causing him to stumble back and release his grip.

As the Rouge flew off towing the wounded knuckles, the sound of police sirens could be heard rapidly approaching down the stree. In the blink of an eye thre cop cars ripped around a corner and barelled toward the scene. Stopping a few yards off, several officers emerged from the cars, immedietly drawing their guns. Out of one of the cars stepped Chief Hodder, followed by toe two goth kids that had run off earlier.

"That's him man!", one of them said upon seeing Jason. "That's the one that killed our bro!"

Chief Hodder glanced up at the killer ahead of him. As Jason slowly turned to face him, Hodder's face became white as a ghost.

"Holy fuck!" he exclaimed quietly. "It's him!"

Pushing the teenagers aside, Hodder moved back into his car and grabbed his radio.

"This Hodder. We're gonna need a hell of a lot of backup. Get as many officers as you can down to Central Station Square now!"

Glancing around, he shut his car door and adjusted his radio freqency. Once he had it set he pressed the call button again.

"Hello, this is chief Hodder, Station Square police. I have a message for the G.U.N commander. Urgent. Please patch me through."

From up in the air, Rouge and Knuckles looked on, both with glad expressions.

"Good", Rouge said, "Let the cops handle him."

"We need to tell Sonic about this," Knuckles managed, barely conscious.

"First we get you to the hospital," Rouge said. "I'll find Sonic and fill him in."

Knuckles didn't protest. He didn't have the energy. The two flew off into the city.

Deep in the confines of an undergound fortress, an alarm rang. In the shadows of a cold, forbidding steel office The G.U.N Commander leaned forward in his chair and reached for his phone.

"Go ahead," his deep voice droned.

"Sir, this is communications. We have just recived a notice from Station Square Police. The subject has been spotted in the center of the city. They are attempting to contain him."

The commander smirked. He knew right away what was happening, and he knew right away how he was going to proceed.

"Stand by to launch the special attack unit," he said. "Take him alive. Anyone that gets in the way, inform tham that they have orders to restrin or eliminate."

He hung up the phone and sat back in his chair. In the darkness, where the only sounds came from himself, he began to laugh silently. As his laughing continued, on the surface, the ground began to open up into a large conyon. Several large aircraft jetted out into the sky and into the night, thier bays fully loaded with heavily armed soldiers.