For the next eleven chapters, things will be different and heavily Lincoln-centric, a thing of its own. You are no longer in main Dawn territory.
Lyrics to If You Want Blood by AC/DC and Army Of Me by Chimaira
"When exposing a crime is treated as committing a crime, you are being ruled by criminals."
-Edward Snowden
It's criminal
There ought to be a law
Criminal
There ought to be a whole lot more
You get nothin' for nothin'
Tell me who can you trust
We got what you want
And you got the lust
If you want blood, you got it
If you want blood, you got it
Blood on the streets
Blood on the rocks
Blood in the gutter
Every last drop
You want blood
You got it
2015
Realities can be rewritten, timelines can change... This I came to find out for myself. I did it once as I've come to realize him, and I did it again by stopping what it was I altered in the first place. Can you imagine it?
Lincoln did it again. He time traveled to the same point in time of the past, the very night the life of current president Jordan Leak had been claimed by the Freights, as suggested by the message left behind. Lincoln was shocked once to find that the very assailant behind it was no other than himself, a younger version of himself the first time around. That version was the one he managed to stop in belief that the Freights wouldn't get the attention of the nation as big as they've gotten it, which meant their crumbling from within. But you know how that timeline went. One spared president made for Timeline X, a nastier future where Alliance Association existed instead of the Patriot Division, and the whole high-up infrastructure were the evil madmen far worse than Lisa. President Peter McMahon and his men, the pheno resistance, and the public likely living in fear of both sides.
That couldn't happen. They were as good as dead, and would have been permanently. No, he decided it wouldn't be, and so it was that he went back in, stopping the second Lincoln from keeping Timeline X intact.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Lincoln tackled the would-be savior, the one intending to save Lily, keeping his hands away from the youngest Lincoln there. Three Lincoln Louds of different times in the White House, not even you were expecting that, right? "Let go, you stubborn fool!"
"Leak has to die!" The youngest Lincoln there never broke away from his own beliefs. "Freights have to rise so that we can rise from their ashes! Don't you see that?!"
"This life isn't what I wanted!" Savior Lincoln protested. "Luna dies! Many die! We will be forced to kill a kid, is that what we rise to become?!"
The current Lincoln had news for them. "I understand that... I don't want anyone innocent to die, but this won't help! Where do you think I'm from?! You there, you had to have been the one who created a worse mess!"
Both other Lincolns went silent, the Savior Lincoln ceasing his struggling from the main one's arms. "You- No, you can't be from there! There's no way you've come from-"
"It's worse... Leak and McMahon exterminate most phenos. It's a war zone in America, you don't want that, I would rather stay in what we've had. It's no worse than whatever it was you've seen."
"Then... This is pointless..." Savior Lincoln sighed, feeling hopeless. "Time travel won't be invented in awhile... Not around today."
"No, but I have this for you..." Lincoln pulled out his blueprints and handed it to Savior Lincoln. "You go back to your own timeline now. Make this and live with the life you have..."
Timeline X Lincoln had planned to use it for himself... But here, seeing what had been tried- That this wasn't the first time altering the timeline as he believed, it made him consider applying a very special punishment onto himself. And that punishment in question? Lincoln give up his one way ticket to the present- A dead present from a timeline that would no longer exist. By that logic, by all of thi, it only ever meant one thing- It it were accurate.
"I guess you will too, won't you?" Savior Lincoln asked.
"No, I'm... I'm going to stay here, actually."
That one will go back to his present, after the death of Lily had passed, this I'm sure of. As for the younger version of me-
"What about your-?"
"If you go back to the present, it will erase the place I'm from- And I might be erased... So go..."
"I trust you can manage," Savior Lincoln told his younger counterpart, and to Timeline X Lincoln, "be wary of Dylan Blood, that's all I can say."
"We can handle it," young Lincoln confirmed. "Get going, both of you, I got a place to rig."
That's how we left off; the Lincoln who sought out change returned to live in the timeline where Luna, Lily and others remained dead. The one where Dylan Blood was destined to reign in, and we were all doomed there. I hated to think, to know that it was going to come back to me full circle. I only had one punishment for trying to ensure that we'd all survive, and that was to be stuck in the past, aging and watching the events unfold a different way, but I had some advantages through intuition.
Now, I didn't know how time travel really worked, but I made a theory that I would be bumping into that Lincoln I sent packing. And if that was going to happen, then things would definitely be weird. In any case, the fun would double... And just maybe I would get to do it right, changing the right things this time. Let's see how that goes.
American Albino, Chapter I: Whistleblower
Days Later
And he'd be fucking drinking at bars over the next few days, and in those few days, he felt alone, condemned to a hell far worse than death. He was around to know that the year's version of Lincoln lived in 1216 Franklin Avenue with a lot of normal sisters, none of them suspecting how fucked up the turn in their lives would get them. This, he could not wish to try and prevent, for the outcomes were as unpredictable as a mist. It wasn't even that reason where he deemed it the main one to justify his reluctance to change how they lived.
The cold hard truth was complex as it was simple; Lincoln had felt his eyes were open to the real estate of the world. In simple terms, coming from the Freight ideology he'd remolded to fit his own, the concept of a normal, happy life was a false one. It blinded, it deceived, and it played with one's heart, this was how he rationalized it. The darkness that was in his head was liberating just as it was ugly. His life had not been in shackles leading him astray to that beautiful lie, so there was that. He sensed that he knew all because he simply understood what there was in the darkness, how hardened his stomach and head was due to all the killing, and just how soulless he had become from then to now. He might have been truly gone if anyone were to look at him and make a wild guess, but still...
Still... The birth of that darker Lincoln Loud would only be born on the seventeenth of May next year... Assuming that he hasn't existed in traces beforehand.
Lincoln took to a stool at the bar counter. "Gimme the hardest thing you've got tonight."
"Coming right up, Loud," the male bartender nodded, wiping his hands with a small towel.
He could use the nice dose Forget-Your-Troubles milk, and he sorely needed it. "Thanks."
And there was a girl nearby who had her eyes on him. This girl, somewhere in her early twenties, had seen him a few times already, carefully gathering that he was some stray, a poor bastard with overly sufficient thoughts on his mind. There was usually a tale to tell behind every guy's face, whoever it was to show up. And Chloe Binsley was keen on guessing what troubled them.
Chloe Binsley was American-Italian, a light brunette with a pixie cut that was near identical to Luna's, but only longer and messy. Not to mention her own threads screamed out rave party girl, laid out perfectly in a leather jacket, black leggings with torn jean shorts, and heavy boots. The girl was as classic as they came in. She turned on her back and stepped backwards, smoothly smacking her arms on the surface of the counter. She turned her head to the side, following his direction. "Hiyah."
The bartender delivered Lincoln's drink, eyeing him and the lady yearning for his attention. "Uh, sir-"
"I know," Lincoln informed the employee, grabbing his drink to take a long sip of whatever he was having. And he didn't like how it burned into him, going down his throat. It was strong, but so was he, and the face on him didn't break for shit. "Ahh, that's good, man."
Chloe pretended she had not just been ignored by the likes of him. "Hey, mister albino man..." She closed in on him, decreasing the distance between them. "Where can a girl like me-" Her voice went calm and purely seductive, a horny moth to a flame. "-Get a hair job like that?"
He never batted an eye, even when her pair of lips were close to his ear, and the faint smell of bourbon reeked out from her. She had too much to drink, she was dead drunk, and Lincoln didn't want to leave, that being said, he also wished to not stick around Miss Drunk Pants. He turned to her and firmly went, "I'm not interested."
"Oh- Oh, well that's okay, honey boo! That's okay, I want to give-" She burped into his ear without so much as a hint of shame. "-I want to give you a good time tonight..."
Lincoln went back, minding his own business with another sip.
"H-hey, come on..." Chloe was a persistent woman where it counted, and tonight, it surely did. "I've seen you around these past few days. You never walk in with someone, never leave with a girl either. Why's that? Huh?"
Lincoln had been getting annoyed by the big mouth. "I just want to be alone."
"For...?" Chloe slammed her hand on the counter area in front of him. "No, I don't buy that! Come on, I am- Guilty, I'm totally into you... Just one night, you, me, and all our clothes are thrown to the side."
He merely raised an eyebrow. "You come here to get laid every night, do you?"
"Wh-what- No!" Chloe denied it, shaking her head violently. "I just want the special ones. The interesting ones-" The bartender had gone to serve other patrons at the other end. "Oh, well, he could vouch for me, I'm a regular-"
"A regular drunk," Lincoln poked fun at her. "Either way, I don't want sex from random women."
"Hi, I'm Chloe!" The pixie-cut girl sat herself down next to him without permission. "And you are...?"
"Under the impression you're not going to let this go, are you?" If it was fated to be, Lincoln surely rushed it, drinking up his only drink he'd have tonight.
"What was your first clue, baby boy?"
Next thing you'd know, Lincoln left the bar in the same fashion, no longer pestered by the Chloe girl. That's frankly because he said yes to it, albeit reluctant. She wrapped her arms around him like any lucky-go gal would with her significant other, giggling away at the thought of fucking the albino man.
And for the first half, once he had returned to the crappy motel a pair of blocks down, she had him where she wanted, in bed and completely naked. She had no way of knowing his muscly build until she saw for herself, and she surely loved what she saw. In that very second, Chloe was riding him hard as if there would be no tomorrow to wake up to. Her pussy wpuld hurt in the next morning over, but right now, the fun and warm, genuine pleasure of his penis filled her emptiness, marking it closer for him to try and spray and fill her with his seed, not that she sought to get pregnant, but that direct sensation of bursting cum that erupted into her spot- it was the best thing she had never been used to feeling. "Oh, God- Oh, God yes!"
Lincoln let it happen as mother nature had written him. He blew his load into her, and hoped it was over by then. He wasn't counting on female company, and not this close. He could have done without it, another night without passion, another night being the lone wolf in the world without a care in the world. He saw Chloe as nothing but a joke dealt to him by the cards of fate, and these types of jokes were the ones he despised the most. All she represented, mockery to him.
Chloe laid down on him after pulling off of him, remnants of his cum dripping from her vagina and onto the bed. "Ahhh, you surely know how to show a girl a good time!"
"I didn't do anything except lie here," Lincoln sassaed, rolling his eyes.
"Don't be so modest, mister albino man," Chloe laughed, poking the tip of his nose. "Tell you what, I'm gonna hit the shower, cause you know..."
She said something I couldn't hear, my state of mind had fled reality, once again thinking over my current situation. It was here that I realized something that might be critical; I am technically the Lincoln of the alternate timeline, and that means I am unbound to the rules if we're going by DC Comics. Yeah, that's right, I'm familiar with Flash comics, read them in my underwear, would probably still if I read them today. Honestly, I'm not a hundred percent sure, and it fucks with my head. I wonder hos shocked my sisters and others will be when they meet me, older Lincoln, when I return to the proper time.
If it doesn't drive me insane.
"Hey, what's with the look?" Chloe grabbed her partner's arm to lure him out forcibly. "If you won't shower-"
"Mmmm..." He got up, swiftly moving to the bathroom to shut her up. It made her smile, and snicker when she eyed his buns. It might not have been necessarily a bad thing tonight, but the company of a lively human... "What did you say your name was?"
"Cuh-Chloe Binsley, sir," she firmly answered, love twinkling in her eyes. "What's yours...?"
"Li-" It hit him, why would he have to be truthful? Case in point, it wasn't necessary for him to give his info out like this. What was it, what was the name of that alias Clyde McBride had laid out on him to use? Jerry... Jerry something- It clicked back. "Jerry Cruise."
He got into the shower, turning the faucet of the showerhead on. Chloe didn't make it over, left confused by something. "B-but that bartender called you Loud, and I know he didn't mean the word."
"What?" Lincoln didn't turn around, letting the water shine and flow onto his face. "You coming in?"
Chloe stuttered for a second before joining him, closing the shower. She neared him to get her share of water and took it upon herself to grab the soap and rub it on the albino's body. "M-may I?"
"Knock yourself out, Chloe," Lincoln allowed.
There were those soft, slow brushes from the girl shorter than him were drawn with ease. It was as if she moved majestically- No, she was- Careful to not make it an uncomfortable experience for him. She seemed to really care, giving it her all to clean every part of his body. His eyes were closed, but he didn't have to see to know how calm tranquil she felt to be, and once she was done running the soap bar, she let it fall on the tub. It made a medium thud, making a splash on impact. Chloe moved to wrap herself around Lincoln, hugging him and laying the side of her head against his muscular chest, saying nothing.
All he could do was give it to her, to let her have it. Maybe this wasn't a joke after all.
The Next Day
He zipped his pants, another step in getting dressed. No plans to stay the next day over, but he could have. Problem was, the extra time he gained here, it was a hard, heavy weight that had yet to make him ravenous. He made his choice already, whether or not it was a horrible decision, and had to accept the consequences of his actions. This, he had to live with. Literally live with, and no outside contact from those he knew. There was no issue in doing so, he believed. Not yet, at least. "Thanks for the hospitality, Chloe, I'll see myself out."
Chloe walked around in a white top and a thong, heating up breakfast on the microwave. "Wait, you're leaving so soon? Mister albino man, why the rush?"
"Gotta see something about a man..." His lies weren't well thought of. "Today's a hard day."
"You sure you don't want some breakfast?" Chloe tapped on the fridge. "I've filled up on hot pockets-
The knocking on the door spooked Chloe quiet, driving her to retreat further into the kitchen, pulling out a knife from the drawers. It grew louder and fiercer, becoming banging at this point. "BINSLEY, I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!"
"No, no fucking way-" The pixie-cut woman silently moved to the bed in her tiptoes, lifting the covers on the edge and planting the knife downward. "Hey, please- Please don't talk-"
"Chloe, who is that?" Lincoln sensed trouble incoming. "Hey, talk to me-"
The person outside broke through the door, barging in with three other men behind him. A closer look from Lincoln had told him he was looking at a pack of Neo-Nazis, skinheads with white power ideals, which somehow Chloe was involved with. They were all bald, heavily tattooed and brandishing handguns for show. "Oh, Chloe, you... Dirty, little slut you."
"R-Rex-" Chloe was betrayed by the fear in her voice, giving the leader of the pack a cruel smile as he approached her. With the gun in his hand, he smacked it across Chloe, striking her head. She fell with a hard grain, bleeding from her forehead, lying on the floor.
"Hey!" Lincoln's hatred reached the surface as it would, body moving on its own to make an attack, but the guns on him prevented him. "Goddamn it!"
"Uh-uh-uh, don't be a hero, you bastard," the leader warned. "You try, I shoot you dead."
Chloe had begun sobbing from below. "Rex, p-please don't-"
"This is your final warning, Chloe! I can't kill you yet until I get what you've taken from me!" The brute leader aimed his gun at Chloe, thinking to shoot her. "You know what to do, you know where to go. Come tonight with the package or you die."
"Y-yes... Yes-" Chloe agreed fearfully.
"Boys, head out..." The skinheads took their exit, the sadistic leader keeping eyes on Lincoln as he walked out of there freely, smile on him never fading for a reason. And that was the reason that made Lincoln decide that maybe, just maybe...
Lincoln reached out to Chloe, helping her up. "Hey, you okay? What the fuck was that?"
"It- It's nothing, Jerry, I'm fine- I'll- I'll be fine-" But the tone of her voice suggested otherwise. The tone, akin to the lifeless. The lifeless. "I'll-"
"Chloe..." Lincoln placed her down on the bed, and himself next to her. "They just held guns to my face and hurt you, that shit doesn't sit well with me, so talk..."
"I can't-"
"Talk or I call the cops, I didn't come here looking for trouble, Chloe!"
"No! No cops, I beg you!" She wiped herself free of the tears. "Okay, okay, I'll talk- I'll talk- Just d-don't...-"
So she told me everything right down to the bone. She was a troublemaker of the bad kind. She admitted to doing drugs, drinking, being a completely crazy woman for her age, and It was almost surprising for me to hear it, to take it in. She was also a definite sex addict and I was the latest victim to fall to this lustful siren. As for what happened next, she came across Rex Rick and his gang, trading her body for product they had. It went well for a bit, but she forced herself clean, or tried to, and wound up breaking away from them. Only issue was, she took a cocaine package from them for herself. Here was where it got worse; she insisted on forcing herself that she could be clean, so she made herself dispose of the drug, emptying it out inside a dumpster. She didn't have it, but they assumed she did, and Chloe obviously could not reveal that fact. She had until tonight to deliver the drugs back to them, but I knew better. I knew that her life had been on forfeit already.
And I could not back out of this now.
"Where is this place, this hideout of theirs?"
"South side of town, eastward, there's an abandoned psychiatric ward, that's where..." Chloe shook her head. "Don't ever think of going there, Rex has more guys than what you've seen. Please, don't do this-"
"Chloe-"
"I don't know, I don't know how they found me! I fucked up... I really fucked up by not leaving."
He sought to correct the chaos. "Hey, it'll be okay. You can make it out, can't you?"
"No..." Chloe sobbed. "Now they know, they'll be trailing the both of us if we're together. I'm- I'm trapped-" Her voice trembled like an earthquake, the fear being too much for her. "I don't wanna die..."
Lincoln lowered the iron walls around his heart, reaching out to Chloe by giving her a kiss to remedy her blizzard of fear. He felt her calm dramatically, unsure of how fast her heart had been beating. This had to calm her down, make her relax. Not what his ideal getaway from the present mess was, but at least he started down low again. If only the world was at peace... The world, at... Peace...
Pulling back, he went over to cover her cranium injury, seeing to it that he'd take care of her, and then plan something.
Later
It had to be him to go at it alone, and on his way out, he surely saw a purple low rider classic vehicle that had all the right signs to be affiliated with the wrong people. Inside, two gang members of dark skin, undoubtedly allies of the skinned, turned their eyes on Lincoln from across the street they'd been parked at. Lincoln sped-walked down the sidewalk to the right, and the low rider ignited on, pulling out to make a U-turn just as Lincoln noticed.
They followed him instead of focusing on their real target, how foolishly idiotic, but it was what he hoped on if anything. He broke into a run, racing down the next block before turning to the right to lose them. He entered an apartment complex when he found one, stopping the vehicle right to where he'd been lost. The two affiliates had to exit their whip to keep up with Lincoln, giving chase after him with Uzis being carried around.
Lincoln entered the laundry room of the apartment building, ducking behind the last washer on the end while the gang members passed by, sprinting rapidly but quietly, ready to kill. But then, so was he, and after they had passed, Lincoln followed, sneaking out of the room and quickly tackling down the member closest to him, one arm around his neck and the other taking control of the Uzi. He sprayed all the bullets it had onto the other gang member, letting a ripping noise take the air by surprise. While that was an easy kill, this next one wasn't.
Lincoln had to choke the last one out with his bare hands, which he did, taking long for it to happen. The strain, the pressure applied to squeeze, it all seemed to sting his eyes and head when he made contact with the man's face, it having been red, gagging for dear life, a fresh breath of air. This could not be, the killing had to happen, all he had to do was avoid his face and keep pushing harder. And then, the life went away in the gangster, depleting and leaving the corpse.
These two were down, but the check-in would be missed with the skinheads, putting them on alert. He walked it back, leaving the bodies and guns as they were.
Regarding Chloe, he had to get her out of town as fast as humanly possible. Save her, and that was the end of it. This was more isolated than the Alliance Association shit he put up with. Still, challenges galore. When he went back to her, he had her in his arms to comfort her. She was a lifeless doll, beautiful but stripped of emotion. Chloe's grazed scar had to heal, and he helped by keeping a towel applied to it.
And here, with her, alone and confined to the motel room for the time being, the iron walls were no more. His heart, it felt funny, it felt weird. It felt the same sensation all too strange for not having enough time to be felt by him, and familiar because he felt the same way before. He felt these butterflies. With Ronnie Anne. With Rebekka Letenko.
With his own sister Lori, the incestuous feelings of romance that plagued his sinful soul.
"I'll get you out of here, Chloe," Lincoln swore on her soul. "I'll do it for you, I'll kill them all."
"Jer-" She thought he was being humble, locking hands with him but never turning her eyes to him. "They're all hardened neo-nazis- You can't- You'll die."
If only you knew...
"I know a place," she opened up. "I know a place where I can lay low... Will you help me get there?"
"Yes, of course I will..."
So she told me where they were, and she felt trapped, needed to escape town. They'd find her and kill her even if we did relocate, that was a possibility. Knowing me... I knew a great deal of people would have to die just so Chloe could live- And this poor girl was scared, no doubt about that. I've just killed their two scouts, that created a closing window.
I stopped being silly, and I decided to go to this psychiatric ward.
He picked her up and laid her back in bed. "I'm going out for something-"
"But Jerry-" Chloe turned her body towards him, pulling his arms. "You just came back."
"I... Tend to feel cooped up in small spaces."
"Jerry- No, I don't-" Chloe leaned up and wrapped herself around him. "Don't leave, don't leave..."
"Chlo-" She cut him off by kissing him, desperation and incentive to keep him here.
She pulled back and sniffed, closing her eyes, head buried upon his chest. "I love your company, you- You make me feel safe... Jerry-"
He hugged her back. She needed it, she felt rather broken.
"Don't leave-"
"I won't," Lincoln whispered back. "I won't leave."
Later - Clandestine Psychiatric Facility
He arrived by walking it when he should not have. The window was already closing faster than expected, the cops were to arrive and respond to the shootings earlier- He did just kill two of this Rex person's lackeys. It was empty, a place of desolation, forgotten by time but not by the meth cookers that turned it into a lab. The natural drug cycle, or just one part of it. Ever seen Death Sentence? It was almost as if Lincoln has stepped into that realm. The rectangular building, shackles caving in, moss upon the wall, dirty windows when they weren't cracked. They had to be in there, they just had to.
And then, if they weren't-
Lincoln came in through a window on the left side of the first floor, sneaking into a room occupied by several of the skinheads. Steel operating tables around, full of chemicals and some weapons like nobody's business, and the odorous smell of it-
A beautiful sawed-off shotgun awaited him right on the corner of the table, having gone neglected by the skinheads occupied over another table, snorting in the crystal through their noses. Gladly, he picked up the weapon and approached the gang of four.
None of that superhuman shit anymore...
He used the shotgun as a melee weapon, heaving it right into one's head. Left one knocked out cold, but the challenge came when they panicked, screamed and attacked him. Lincoln did as he could, swinging the shotgun at them like a baton- At one point did he toss it right into one of the skinheads' chest and threw a punch while they grabbed it. Lincoln spun around on the third one after picking up the shotgun again, blowing away their face in point blank range. The fourth guy broke into submission and knew to retreat- Had no chance to run from him when he fired again into his legs, immobilizing the skinhead.
"AGH, MY LEGS- MY-" Lincoln jammed the barrel into the downed thug's mouth, shutting him up.
"Where is Rex?"
"Mmmmmfff-"
Yeah, I fired away and basically alerted the complex. Here they come...
And indeed, the rest of the skinheads rushed to the source of the gunfire, weapons drawn out for this battle. Handguns, shotguns and compact full-autos loaded for firefight. This was his MO, the home front for Lincoln. The place of red and black. Death, bloody death he was adjusted to.
He pulled the trigger again, turning the skinhead into messy mash potato up close and personal. The top of their head, barely lingering on, hanging so lowly and droopy, another bloody kill for the count.
Death is welcome with me! Death is defined by me!
The gang thugs came sprawling from the upper levels, yelling orders and giving each other the repeated orders. "Protect the product!"
"Kinny and Johnny-Boy are so dead!"
Rex Rick, the one they had all answered to, shouted from the third level down. The Uzi at hand swung around with his arm, white shirt hanging out like a drape, being long and awkwardly for his physique.
Rex Rick shouted to the crew. "WHOEVER HAS THE FAGGOT'S HEAD BROUGHT TO ME WILL HAVE A TEN PERCENT INCREASE OF THE NEXT SALES!"
Lincoln relocated quickly, heading upwards via the stairwell. Three of the neo-nazis came down to greet him with their loaded bullets. Bullets that could've been meant for Chloe if not for him being here, here to say no in the deadliest way possible. He threw the shotgun up, unloading the rest of the buckshot shells, rupturing the plank stair steps and the three goons unlucky- or maybe they were, to have quickly been blown away by him. The rounds on his weapon quickly went empty, so he dropped the boomstick and scavenged the mutilated corpses. One large Uzi and a simple Beretta popgun for his amusement, when he was wishing he had brought himself a better weapon back from his timeline.
Yeah, that happened, and there was just no accounting for future fights until they came. Like now.
They'd have heard the next firing session, running around to follow him. He could circle it, lead them like a train, and maybe if he was further ahead, he could attack from behind. The environment could also be of help. Up the second floor, he was introduced to a messy floor of dirt, glass and other material scattered about. Glass- He saw glass and a gas canister up on a table. Wait...
Gas canister plus glass- Bingo!
Seven of them entered after him, slowly creeping up like a jungle unit during the 'Nam campaign of an era long ago. You know, the war that had the homeboys pull out of the foreign country? Still a loss that dared leave some generals and friends kicking in the dirt- And those young veterans that remained were almost grateful. The group of thugs separated, taking the entire floor- the lunchroom- one step at a time. Lincoln himself hid in the corner of the kitchen, Uzi readied.
They closed in, moving around the table holding the gas canister and the glass shards Lincoln quickly set around. This may have been, to them, some silly gangland shootout on some regular weeknight, but not to him. Never to him. War was war, the unspoken zone where the mud got into your eyes when they were then bloodshot. You could have seen it if you were there once. The screaming and the crying. The endless struggle to fight for survival, to end the enemy before they did you in, shot you in the face for an easy kill, battered your skull in with three or four strikes with the gun they've been issues. Grenades and tripwires rigged to blow when you set them off.
This was just that, war. Another case, another small battle in the heart of another war zone. They'll say otherwise, this was homeland soil, and no war hit home. Well, they were wrong, and he knew it as the truth. This was war, and he was merely the stroke of death, working to return the devil's pawns back to hell.
He lunged out of cover, pulling the trigger and releasing the mag's rounds right into the canister. He blew it up as they fired back, dismantling the horde of criminals. The glass shards flew into their bodies, and a few only had the privilege to be lit by the incendiary blast radius, engulfed in flames. The screamed in agony and they burned- But Lincoln was only as merciful as anyone could have believed. The downed ones, all of them alive but wounded, were the ones then executed one at a time, with a single round of the Beretta to the head.
Which one of these was that Rex person? They all look the same when dead like this.
They were a lot, had to be one or a few left around, hiding in cover, protecting the head honcho. Had to be.
Lincoln reloaded and moved inbound upwards, storming the stairs. "REX, YOU'RE LOSING YOUR JUNKIES REAL FAST! GIVE YOURSELF UP WILLINGLY-"
And someone had the funny idea to tear upon the wooden steps with an Uzi from above, free-firing about all over. It only sped things up for Lincoln, making him run up the steps faster. He made it to the third floor, but there was no way of circling around now.
Rex Rick was quick to castigate the moron who ripped through the planks. "NO, YOU'RE GOING TO GET US CORNERED!"
"I- I shot the-" the goof skinhead tried to reason, "I mean-"
"Get- All of you, with me!" Rex clamored. "We're taking the south staircase!"
Lincoln hurried up, trying to get his target before the closing of the window. And, believing Lincoln to be able to hear him, Red did scream back. "I KNOW YOUR VOICE! YOU'RE THAT MAGGOT WHO SHACKED UP WITH THAT BINSLEY BITCH, AIN'T YA?! TELL YOU WHAT-"
Lincoln reached through the floor just as Rex and his crew were over halfway to the other end.
"I'LL SKIN THE LITTLE PRINCESS ALIVE JUST FOR YOU!"
The albino pushed in, aimed and fired the Uzi and Beretta at once, hitting at the final pack of thugs his eyes had spotted. Down fell three of the final five there were, and none of them were Rex. The handgun was dropped, leaving only the auto in his grasp. Lincoln followed the last two, running full throttle, losing air and dispersing out energy to waste. He dare not blink as he faced the devil in his prime, considering Chloe's safety.
Chloe.
The chase had him go back down to where he started from. Right now, Rex had the advantage, having jumped into his whip, a Camaro of the late 70s with the only other member of the gang. They sped, passing from the side to the front of the old hospital- and drove into a trap. Lincoln had burst out out of the main entrance and sprayed upon them as they drove by. The passenger was struck upside the head with three rounds, and the car had lost itself, the wheels of the right side popped flat, and Rex lost control. "No-"
Lincoln jumped to align himself behind, now taking aim at Rex himself. That's it... You didn't see it coming, you didn't see me coming. Best to tell the devil who sent you.
Rex swiped for his own pistol and whipped it out of the window, screaming for bloody murder. And his arm, his head, and his chest received the mercy of the Ungodly Stormbringer, carnage for the forensics crew to analyze and clean up. His destiny was on a steel table, written for the crematorium.
And that was it, that was the end of tonight's massacre, and not a single bullet had struck him, not a single blow or scathe attack. A lucky feat that wasn't, and proved to be, dependant of his superhuman durability and strength. Missed it a whole lot less, but the albino was still a mortal.
Still human.
Not a human.
There... There you are, Chloe. I've scratched that itch on your back...
It brought him a genuine satisfaction to know that he had saved her, the warm feel that burned the fire in his heart. Chloe was out of harm's way, safe until she got old.
Or so he thought.
You can't, understand I still have a lot to say
To you, a fortune nothing has left no time or place
My life, upon my life there will always be lies
No more, I won't believe in this hypocrisy
You are, parasitic bottom feeder
All you, maggots, you're one in the same, you all make me sick
Guilty, especially you who justify your rational lives
Killing, you're killing in the name of God almighty
Cowards and crooks
Surrounded by liars, killers and haters
I'm surrounded by filth
Army of me
It lives in us all
Army of me
It will avenge me
AN: Forget everyone main fom the past chapters. This is purely Lincoln territory, centered on him coming into a new war zone where he'll learn that he can't always depend on simple guns and knives to defeat an enemy. A hard lesson at that, textbook real-world. New characters, a contained plotline, and some romance for him through the new girl Chloe. On a side note, I did make Chloe Binsley before the show introduced that other one as Clyde's love interest. This chapter was written before Timeline X's entire arc, as well, but only this one.
Confession, spoilers for an Act Seven chapter is out there, and an Act Six chapter is nearly done as well. I wouldn't look for them, there's the fall of a fan favorite.
Yeah, I end your heroes. I am hero-ender man.
American Albino roster;
1. Whistleblower
2. The Blacklist
3. Martyr
4. America's Most Wanted
5. Tactical Deception
6. Extraction
7. Enemies In High Places
8. Town Siege
9. Scorched Earth
10. The Ungodly Stormbringer
11. Dawnbreaker
Act Six will return in the fic's regular format after this.