CHAPTER 73: BY DEMONS BE DRIVEN, PART 4
The damned city of Hellwood rests on Lang Island, the largest body in the archipelago of the San Juan Islands in Washington state. Surrounded by a joint collection of the Washington National Guard, United States Marshals, and San Juan County Sheriff's office, the combined force of the 3 agencies stand guard over the city border while it remains disowned from the nation.
All remaining roads are walled off from entry, all bridges and waterways are mined, and surface-to-air measures prevent any aerial entry into Hellwood. The combined forces, acting as one army, watch over the air, land, and sea, ensuring that no one may enter Lang Island by any means or for any reason.
Breaking out is impossible.
Breaking in is insane.
But the latter is what 5 imprisoned super-criminals, sent by President Milius Arcudi on a specific mission, intend to do.
[Soundtrack Cue: Little Richard - Long Tall Sally]
Flying in from Joint Base Lewis-McChord, an Army helicopter carrying said supervillains began taking their passengers into the island city. Their mission is a simple one, but far from an easy task: Assess the threat that the Freak poses on the country, and eliminate him.
Preparing themselves for that very task, each of the villains prepared themselves for the mission they were set off on, each making sure that all their equipment and powers were ready to use against their enemy. With minutes to spare for what could very well be the fight of their lives, they ensured that nothing was left to chance.
Nailbomb, personally checking and cleaning out his explosives, made sure that there were no duds in his collection.
Icebreaker, wielder of the cold itself, played with the air between his fingers, freezing it in his hands.
Decibel, taking advantage of the helicopter's loud blades, charged up his suit with plenty of sound to use in the battlefield.
Killer Crab, trying to stay limber in his seat, stretched out his legs and claws while seated.
Tommy Gunn, ensuring that his weapon was loaded and ready, firmly packed the magazine inside and cocked the gun.
Even with a heavy task ahead of them, the team could not help but pass the time with jokes and quips between one another. Having spent much time together fighting against a superhero as a team, such a bond was inseparable for this group, even if disputes still existed between one another.
Icebreaker, leaning into Decibel, extended his middle finger towards his comrade.
"Hey, D, how many fingers am I holding up?" Icebreaker asked.
"I'm deaf, not blind, asshole." Decibel said.
"Oh, yeah? Then how come you heard what I said?"
"Because of this headset. Lets me hear again."
Decibel pointed to a headset that covered his ears, giving him his sense of hearing back.
"Pretty nifty. Isn't it a pain sometimes?" Icebreaker asked.
"Not really. Comes in handy." Decibel said.
"Like how?"
"Like when I get a real pain in the ass."
Removing his headset from his ears, Decibel took away his own sense of hearing, rendering himself deaf once again. Icebreaker continued to talk to his comrade about the apparatus, but, without the aid of the headset, none of his words could be heard.
Realizing that his teammate was ignoring him, Icebreaker ended the conversation, to which Decibel put his headset back on with a smile.
Continuing to check up on his weapon, Tommy Gunn pulled back the charging handle, looking down the barrel to ensure that the tommy gun would not jam. Nailbomb, having far more to his name in weapons than his colleague, mocked him for having an inferior firearm compared to his own.
"Even after all we've been through, you still use that stupid peashooter?" Nailbomb asked.
"You got your ass kicked by some skinny little blonde. I'd hardly say you're in a position to tell me what I should and shouldn't use for a weapon." Tommy Gunn said.
"You got scared to death by a Twilight fangirl. You're one to talk."
"Hey! I ain't scared-a some little skirt in black, you hear me? There's nothing on Earth that could scare-"
Before Tommy Gunn could finish his sentence, Nailbomb held up a piece of paper, on it a very crude drawing of the young goth girl mentioned in conversation prior. Seeing the image of the girl put before him, even a poorly-made rendition of said child, Tommy Gunn reacted in fear to the picture, remembering what sort of satanic torment she put him through.
"AAH! NO! GET IT AWAY FROM ME, MAN! GET IT AWAY!" Tommy Gunn screamed.
Intervening into the fight, Killer Crab broke the two up, acting as the reasonable one out of the group.
"Enough, you guys, we got a job to do. I don't know about you guys, but I'd like to be a free man when this is over. I've had my fill of prison." Killer Crab said.
"Relax. We can handle one little asshole." Decibel said.
"Yeah. Silver Sentinel was basically immortal. What's this guy got?" Nailbomb said.
"I don't know, but I'd rather not go in half-baked. I want out of prison, and I'm not passing up this chance. I suggest you guys do the same." Killer Crab said.
The rest of the teammates all heeded their comrade's warning, all choosing to behave themselves and no longer fight during the trip.
"Fair enough. I can be a good boy." Icebreaker said.
"I would hope so. I wanna get myself outta here and back in the real world. Gonna get myself some booze, get a couple-a dames, gonna just go and party hard when all this is over." Tommy Gunn said.
"Likewise. I'll probably get more pussy than the rest of you guys, though. Chicks dig vibrations." Decibel said.
The journey of the helicopter came near the end of its flight, coming just miles away from Lang Island. Flying past the borders and guard posts, it flew towards the island, coming up on the city of Hellwood. Bound to leave the helicopter in minutes, the villains were prompted to ready themselves, doing the last checks on their equipment and weapons.
Just before landing, one soldier handed off a flare to Nailbomb, instructing him with what to do with it.
"When the threat's been eliminated, you head to the Tucker Bridge, burn this flare. They see this green flare, they'll let you back out." The soldier said.
"Got it." Nailbomb said.
At last, the helicopter landed on land, putting the aircraft on the ground of Hellwood. Wasting no time to earn their presidential pardons, the villains all stepped out of the helicopter, rushing out and setting foot on the island of the damned, the first time anyone from the outside has accomplished such a task.
Dropping off its passengers, the helicopter departed, leaving the suicide squad to their impossible task.
[Soundtrack Cue End]
As the mission of the suicide squad had begun their impossible mission to find and eliminate the Freak, the aforementioned target continued on his psychological torture of the Green Eye; subjecting him to a macabre and disgusting amateur film documenting his various crimes across Hellwood.
Watching his various bizarre and appalling murders of other human beings, the Green Eye had one and only one desire throughout the entire film: To close his eyes and spare himself from the violence on the screen. The Freak, ensuring that he would not be capable of missing any of what he wished to share, stuck hooks through his eyelids to keep them open, forcing him to witness the film without pause.
The open air against his eyes began to dry them up, making them start to turn red from lack of lubrication. His body instinctively struggled to shut its eyelids on the eyes, giving them the wetness desired at last, but found no respite to the efforts. Forced to watch the horrible film being played and unable to shut his very eyes, the Green Eye feels both mental and physical pain at once...
...and he is not sure which pain is worse.
Still the film continued to play, continuously displaying more and more sexually and morally depraved acts to test the mettle of the Green Eye. The Freak, conversely, watched the film with enthusiasm and glee, growing giddy at the torment that his captive was enduring.
"You know what I love about filmmaking? Being able to look at the final product and enjoy the fruits of your labor. It's like you actually made a difference and made a lasting impact on people. At least, you can hope you did." The Freak said.
"Curly... Please... I'm begging you... turn it off..." Green Eye groaned.
"Why would I wanna do that? All that time and money I put into this production, and you can't even do me the courtesy of watching it all the way through? I don't think so. I made this for you, and you're gonna watch it all the way until the end. Besides, there's a big surprise at the ending. You're gonna love it."
Sitting back in his seat, the Freak let the film continue, watching his next scene play out.
On the screen, the Freak was shown in another household, with another assortment of victims. One victim had already found her fill of torture, the mother of hte family, having her throat slit and her dead body on the ground. The remaining two were a father and their baby son, with the father tied up and bent over a table, while the Freak cradled the baby softly in his arms.
"Aw, what a precious little thing, ain't he? Life is just a precious thing, isn't it? One good hard fuck, 9 whole months of feeling it grow inside you, and you gotta push the little brat out of a hole barely big enough for the dick that made it. You know, thanks to the Green Eye's powers, I can feel anything another human being can. I know that nobody else can do that, and it can be hard for people to stand in another's shoes. One of the oldest points on that is that men could never feel the pain of childbirth. Well, worry not. I have an idea to change that. Weston?" The Freak asked.
Standing over the father, Weston reached his fingers into the father's anus, prodding deep into the sphincter to put all his fingers inside. The action led the father to groan and scream in pain, mixed with a small amount of pleasure from the unintentional stimulation of his prostate.
Having his fingers firmly inside, Weston began pulling the father's anus open, stretching the opening to accommodate for the intention that the Freak had for it. The father continued to scream as his orifice was being opened beyond a point which it was meant to be opened; his cries for the pain to stop having no payoff.
"Enjoying yourself, Weston? I bet that's not the first time you've stretched out a man's asshole. Might be the widest, though." The Freak asked.
Weston did not answer the question, instead focusing himself on the task of expanding the anus. After much pulling and effort, as well as many vocal displays of pain from the owner of the anus, the rectum was stretched out to its maximum pull, reaching a diameter of 5 inches.
No longer cradling the baby, the Freak instead held him in his arms like a football, preparing the infant for its unpleasant journey.
"Alright, little guy, you ready? Hut-one, hut-two, hike!" The Freak shouted.
Holding the baby directly in front of him, the Freak ran straight for the father's open anus, shoving the infant inside the orifice. The baby boy, his head larger than the hole it was being forced through, pierced through surprisingly quickly, plopping straight through inside the colon.
The journey itself was not an easy one for either the father or son, with the baby screaming inside his father's bowel, with the vibrations of his screams continuing to stimulate the father's prostate. The unwanted sexual stimulation, coupled with the suffering that his own infant son was enduring, were both too much for the father to take in, taking away what little willpower he still had.
Continuing to force the infant inside his father's bowels, the Freak slowly moved it further inside, placing it deeper through the anus and into the colon. The baby screamed and screamed throughout the procedure, muffled under the tight, wet environment clenched down on his mouth, but such conditions did not stop its pleas for the torment to come to a stop.
Finally, the infant was forced all the way inside his father's body, pushed through the anal opening and engulfed inside. Feeling his own infant son writhe and scream around in his colon, the father continued screaming under the intense stretching and duress, crying under the physical and emotional pain.
As his own infant wriggled against his prostate, the father could no longer hold back against the stimulation, beginning to involuntarily ejaculate harder than he ever had in his life. The guilt he felt over such immense pleasure leaves him with the utmost disgust for himself, almost enough to make him vomit.
"Doctor. I need 30 laxatives, stat." The Freak said.
Moving on to the next part of his plan, the Freak was handed a handful of laxatives from Dr. Scott, proceeding to subsequently shove them in the father's mouth. Closing his mouth down and holding his nose shut, he forced the father to swallow the pills, enacting the next part of the act.
Within minutes, the father's life could no longer continue the pain it was put under, causing him to fall dead. The infant, still trapped within the bowels of his own father, soon came to his own death as well; suffocating in the tight environment with no oxygen, as well as the muscles inside clenching down on his body, crushing him inside the tight space.
Who had died first is anyone's guess.
The body of the father, still working from the laxatives it was fed, began letting out heavy flatulence, defecation soon to follow. Muscles within the sphincter contracted and collapsed involuntarily, beginning to push out its last excrement as the body carried out its last wills.
With much effort and chemical influence, the infant's deceased body was finally moved out from the anus again, born dead and covered in feces.
"Well, would you look at that? Died right smack in the middle of it. Guess childbirth really is the most painful thing in the world. Credit to you, moms, you deserve a big pat on the back." The Freak said.
The group of villains, free to roam the no man's land known as Hellwood, began trekking out on their task of locating the Freak, heading out into the unknown of the damned city. Moving on their mission, they each took looks to their surroundings, realizing the true state of decay that the once-great city of Hillwood had fallen into.
Resulting from the cataclysm from the defeated nuclear bomb sent below the city, the buildings around them were either crumbled to the ground, or mere steps away from being reduced to rubble. To see a city that was once known as one of the most prosperous and famous towns in America in such a dire state was something haunting to see, even to the 5 villains on the ground.
"Damn. This place seriously got it bad." Icebreaker said.
"You can say that again. Maybe this Freak guy ain't so much a pushover after all." Killer Crab said.
"Eh, whatever. It was only a nuke that did this. We've yet to see what the man himself's got." Tommy Gunn said.
"Speaking of which, Hillwood's a big place. Exactly how are we supposed to find this guy?" Decibel asked.
The group took notice of a rogue wanderer in their path, carelessly treading around the area without aim or goal. Gaining an idea for how to locate the Freak, Nailbomb realized the potential of what this stranger could offer them, leading the group towards him.
"Maybe we just need a tour guide. Let's ask this guy." Nailbomb said.
Taking the group to the vagrant wanderer, Nailbomb stopped before him, with the rest of the group following.
"Hey, pal. We're looking for this weird, crazy bad guy who calls himself the Freak. We're supposed to go and kill him if need be. Would you be a pal and tell us where he is?" Nailbomb asked.
The wanderer, delirious and restless, responded with a shaky and unstable voice.
"Wh-Wh-What? You want the Freak? No, no, no, he's a bad guy, you don't wanna mess with him. J-Just, just go away. I want nothing to do with you." The wanderer said.
Taking notice of his skinny frame, Nailbomb deduced that an easy way to persuade the wanderer would be with a bribe, preferably an item of food so he may stave his hunger. Waving a Reptar Bar in front of the wanderer, he coaxed him back to them with the treat, which the wanderer never took his eyes from.
"How about now?" Nailbomb asked.
Hungry and desperate for the treat, the wanderer's mind quickly changed, looking back at the one offering him food to give him his answer.
"H-He's, he's, he's at Quigley Stadium. If you got more, I'll take you there." The wanderer said.
"Well, you're in luck, I just so happen to have plenty of candy. Why don't you take this as a down payment and lead the way for us?" Nailbomb asked.
Snatching the Reptar Bar out of Nailbomb's hand, the wanderer chowed down the chocolate in seconds, giving him the incentive to follow his orders.
"Yes, sir! Right this way." The wanderer said.
Back between the Green Eye and the Freak...
The film carried onto a scene with a break from the mold of destruction to the nuclear family; this time the Freak selecting his victims as a lesbian couple of a cis woman and a trans woman, as evidenced by their bottoms being completely uncovered for the camera, and both secured against a wall.
Lampooning on his new victims, the Freak unzipped his pants and pulled them down, showcasing his own genitals for the camera.
"One of these things is not like the others, one of these things doesn't belong, can you tell which thing is not like the others by the time I finish this song?" The Freak sang.
Pulling up his pants again, the Freak returned to the main focus of his visit to these individuals, narrating to the camera again.
"Now, so far, my good friend Weston here has been a very good helper, so I thought I'd give him some help in return. Now, Weston, tell me, you're gay, right?" The Freak asked.
"Yes, sir." Weston said.
"And has that ever been a problem before? Ever been called a 'faggot'? 'Queer'? 'Fruitcake'? 'Sodomite'? 'Fudgepacker'? Anything like that?"
"Plenty of times, sir."
"Does that ever get to you?"
"I try not to let it, sir."
"Ever wonder what it would be like if you weren't gay? Think you'd have it easier in life?"
"I wouldn't know, sir."
"Well, I think we can find that out right now. Dr. Scott, has there ever been a way to change a man from gay to straight?"
"No." Dr. Scott said.
"'No'? Well, surely, you, a man of science, would never say 'no' to any possibility. Anytime someone says 'science can't do that', what they really should say is 'science can't do that yet'. Fortunately, I've got some assistants to help us here. After all, what good is a science experiment without assistants?"
Taking Weston by the shoulders, he escorted him to the two women, allowing him to observe the captives and their exposed goods.
"Now, Weston, what is it you look for mainly in a man?" The Freak asked.
"St-strength... honor... trustworthiness..." Weston said.
"In other words, you're the bottom. That's cool, that works. We can work with that."
Walking to the transgender woman, the Freak grabbed her penis, stroking it slowly to coax it to erection in front of Weston.
"See this cock? That's a man's cock. Sure, the rest of her's a woman; tits, face, ass, everything, but this part here's still a man's part. I want you to remember that. Now, pull down your pants." The Freak said.
Reluctantly complying with his order, Weston slowly pulled off his underwear and pants as instructed. The Freak, taking out a knife, cut the restraints to the captive, letting her stand on her feet once again. Walking up to the cisgender woman, he set her free as well, pulling out a gun on both after doing so.
"Now, here's what I want you to do. You, with the cunt, you lay down. Weston, you fuck her. You, with the cock, you fuck Weston in the ass while he fucks your girlfriend." The Freak said.
Not wishing to invoke his wrath, the two women approached Weston, aiming to comply with his order. Awkwardly coordinating themselves, the three got into their designated positions, with Weston becoming sandwiched between the two women; penetrating one as the other penetrated him.
Thrusting into a vagina for the first time for as long as he can remember, back during the days of fumbling attempts to discover himself sexually, he is reminded of the warm, wet tissue that engulfs and strokes his member. Once again, he still does not care for what he feels.
What he cannot help but admit he enjoys the phallus belonging to the other of the two women inside him, but he still had no taste for the bodies that were cushioning him. Their soft, feminine figures were of no interest to him, offering no more arousal or lust in this act. Instead, he still wishes for a harder, masculine body, trying to imagine himself in between two such ones to enjoy himself.
"How's it feel, Weston? You still get your dick, but, now, you get to feel what actual sex feels like. At least, my idea of it: Sandwiched between two beautiful women. Isn't it nice?" The Freak asked.
"N... No..." Weston grunted.
"What?! Still no? Well, let me give you a little help."
Pulling down his pants again, the Freak quickly sported an erection, placing it against the trans woman's anus and pushing it inside. Thrusting inside her rectum with force and speed, he pushed her further against Weston's anus, in turn causing him to thrust harder inside the cis woman's vagina.
"How about now? Feeling it?" The Freak asked.
Becoming too far stimulated under the excessive force he was put under, Weston had no words to reply with, only giving out discontent groans.
"Still no, huh? Doctor! Dick me up, Scotty! We gotta make this a team effort!" The Freak said.
"What?! I can't-" Dr. Scott began to say.
"C'mon, doc, I need your help on this. What good a doctor are you if you can't help your patients?!"
Reluctantly complying with his order, Dr. Scott, too, removed his pants and joined in the group sex, placing himself inside the Freak and thrusting away.
For longer than anyone observing the event cared to count, the 5-way group sex continued on in a loud and appalling manner, much to the disgust of the Green Eye, and to the delight of the Freak. Still chewing away at his popcorn, he smiled on the perverse act, recalling it with great joy.
Watching it again also gave him a sense of arousal, giving him another opportunity to mock the Green Eye.
"You know, babe, I cut a hole in the bottom of this bag. Care to see what's at the bottom?" The Freak asked.
Darting what could have been a full expression of a scowl, had it not been interrupted by the hold of the fish hooks, to the Freak, the Green Eye reluctantly looked back to the film, watching the orgy still unfold on the screen. Unlike the Freak, his own reaction was one far less positive, nearly ready to vomit from the act being shown.
Eventually, the perverse act came to an end, with all involved eventually coming to climax and concluding the intercourse. Every party fell to the ground, exhausted over the intensity of the mutual collision of bodies and trying to rest. All, of course, except for the Freak, who picked himself right back up once again.
"Well, Weston? Feeling good from that pussy and a little help from your friends?" The Freak asked.
Weston, no longer able to keep his composure as a stoic and strong businessman, began crying on the floor over the suffering he had endured. Curling up into a fetal position, pressing his head between his knees, his emotions could no longer be held back, the violation taking too much of his willpower away.
"N... No... I don't..." Weston cried.
"No?! Still 'no'?! Well, I never!" The Freak shouted.
Angered over Weston's reaction, the Freak grabbed the cis woman by the head, dragging her against a wall. Taking a hammer and nail, he positioned the nail on top of her head, preparing to drive the nail into her head. Driving the tool down on the nail, he followed through that promise in full, pushing it through her skull and into her brain.
"All the work I do to try to make you appreciate pussy a little more, and you don't even give a fuck! You're nothing but a flaming faggot through and through, aren't you?" The Freak asked.
The trans woman watched in horror as her significant other was murdered so carelessly, but soon found herself about to join her under the Freak's wrath. The Freak, taking a power drill in one hand, began stroking her penis to full erection again, getting it ready for what would come next.
Pressing the drill bit against her meatal opening, the Freak pushed the drill bit inside her urethra, passing cold, coarse metal through tissue not meant to have anything solid pass through. The owner of the penis screamed in pain over the forced sounding, but her loudest screams came when the drill was powered on.
Blades began spinning and digging through the inner tissue of the phallus, slicing and shearing away at urethral and erectile tissue from the inside out. Unable to take the unbearable mutilation of her penis from the inside out, the shock of the violent act alone would have been enough to kill her, but it would not be until the loss of most of her blood that this would follow through.
Leaving his last victim to die, the Freak moved his attention back to Weston, taking out the last of his frustration on him, pulling out a knife to do so.
"Fine. You want cock? I'll give you cock, but first, I need a pussy to fuck, and you're gonna give me one." The Freak said.
Driving his knife into Weston's scrotum, the Freak cut the sack open, letting his testicles fall out. Weston, watching and feeling his own genitals be torn apart, howled in agony as he became the next subject of the Freak's violence. Bleeding out through his now-open scrotum and exposed testicles, he knew that this was merely the beginning of his new troubles.
"You know, this is how pigs are castrated." The Freak said.
Grabbing Weston's exposed testicles, the Freak yanked them out from their place, pulling on the vas deferens and yanking them out from his body. Feeling a pain so personal and so deep inside his reproductive anatomy, Weston continued to screech further in pain, unable to withstand the crude removal of his testicles.
"Aw, what's the matter? No big loss, you weren't gonna get anybody pregnant anyway. No doctors or lawyers lost." The Freak said.
With his erection at the ready, the Freak pushed his member against the open and empty scrotum, seeking to make use of the new hole created. Pushing himself through tissue and flesh, piercing through it all with his own. Still unable to take the perverse and gory penetration of his scrotum, Weston would not stop screaming, unable to withstand the pain.
Growing tired of his screams, the Freak prepared his knife yet again, this time driving it into Weston's neck.
With one entering stab into his neck, Weston's screams quickly turned to bloody gurgles, degrading into less and less noises with each stab. The Freak, aggressively stabbing the poor Weston during their bizarre sex act, grew more excited with his death, laughing and growing more aroused with each stab.
Soon, Weston stopped moving altogether; his body lying limp to the ground. Noticing this, the Freak ceased his stabbing, knowing his work was done.
Weston is dead.
Giving out a few final thrusts, the Freak ejaculated into the compromised hole between Weston's legs, leaving his dead body to leak out his semen. Taking himself out of Weston's dead, mutilated body, he pulled up his pants again, readying himself to go on his next escapade.
"Well, now... I think we've had enough of these funny games. I think we need to get back to the drugs. Doctor, you with me?" The Freak asked.
Having borne witness to some of the most macabre and disturbing sights that a human being can be subjected to, Dr. Scott chose to remain out of the way for most of the preceding events, hoping that he would be left alone. Unfortunately for him, as the Freak had decreed his part in this play was not over yet.
"Uh... Yes, Freak, yes. I'm with you." Dr. Scott said.
"Well, would ya look at that? You actually called me by my real name. I'm flattered. Now, let's move on to the drugs. Hope you like LSD." The Freak said.
Back on the streets of Hellwood...
The 5 supervillains followed their bribed tour guide with care and ease, not knowing what manner of threats they would be in for, or how to fight back against said enemies. Each member of the team kept their weapon close to their being, easy to watch for any abnormality coming their way.
But watching the many impoverished prisoners of Hellwood, they realize soon that they are the abnormalities; healthy and well-off individuals in a land of poverty and famine. Seeing just how eager that one would come under their employment for a chocolate bar, as well as how many people roam the streets without food as the government seeks to starve them to death, the villains cannot help but feel sympathy for these poor souls.
"Jesus. It's like walking through Liberia or something. This place looks worse than I thought." Killer Crab said.
"Yeah. Are we really supposed to be on the side of the prez here? He's the one that's letting all these people starve to death. I feel like we should do something." Icebreaker said.
"I never thought I'd say it, but, yeah. I feel like we should play a little hero for once. Y'know, give these people somethin' to eat?" Tommy Gunn asked.
"We're helping the president so he can help these people. We kill the Freak, he'll do what he's gotta do here." Nailbomb said.
"You believe that?" Decibel asked.
"No. But if his pardon's good for it, I'll believe anything he says."
"Jesus, dude! These people are starving to death right in front of us. How do you not care?" Icebreaker asked.
"I'm in a walking hospital bed of a suit and I'm running off 2 hits of morphine right now. When you're about halfway dead, it's hard not to be a little self-centered."
"We're here!" The tour guide said.
The supervillains and their guide all came to a collective stop, standing before Quigley Stadium, the current residence of the Freak. All those in the group instantly realized that their target, more importantly, the key to their pardons, lied inside for them to take.
"Thanks, kid. Here's one on the house." Nailbomb said.
Having no more use for the tour guide, Nailbomb tossed him one more Reptar Bar, allowing him to feed on it.
The supervillains, wasting no more time on their mission, all began approaching Quigley Stadium, readying their weapons. None were all too sure about what kind of threat they would be fighting in the Freak, but all of them agreed on one important fact that acted as a linchpin to their plan:
Failure is not an option.
Back between the Green Eye and the Freak...
The film progressed on near the end of its run, coming to a scene with Dr. Scott alone. His face showed a sense of anxiety and despair, with many markings all over his arms to show heroin use, and teeth yellowing to show use of meth and other drugs, with no clear distinction as to what else he may have consumed.
His composure was barely able to be kept; his body was in some strange state of exhaustion, with shakes and jitters to go along with it. Scratching at his body, struggling to keep his own eyes open, Dr. Scott spoke out the intent of his segment of the film, his voice just as exhausted as his face.
"My name... is Peyton Harvey Scott... I studied psychology to try to help people... to help them get better... I wanted to make a difference in people's lives... and I tried to do that for Thaddeus Gammelthorpe... for Curly... and I tried very hard. I thought I got to know him... I thought I got to get somewhere in him, to find out how he ticked... but I had it wrong. I thought... I could try to... find out what was really wrong with his brain... see if I could fix it... but I can see... there's no fixing him. It's not that he doesn't want to be fixed... it that he can't be, even if you tried. He's just so... completely fucked. I don't know what it is... how he got that way... I don't know how... but it doesn't matter. He's just a man- No, he's not a man, men don't act like him... He just wants to cause pain, to cause misery... He enjoys it... I don't know why... It's like he doesn't understand the meaning of life... Doesn't know how to be human... Doesn't know how to actually feel anything... How could you hope to heal someone like that? I see this one man, the Green Eye, fight against him, but he won't kill him... I wish I had killed him when I first saw him, if I knew that this is what he would've become. I had every opportunity in the world... but I didn't take it. I was spineless... I failed to do the right thing... I let thousands of people die... all my fault... Oh, god..." Dr. Scott cried.
Taking out a handgun, Dr. Scott aimed it at his head. Watching him prepare to pull the trigger, the Green Eye gained an instant understanding of what the purpose of this segment was. His own illogical instincts told him to jump through the screen and stop the good doctor from ending his own life, but the incoming logical thoughts told him the truth that any such attempts to help would be too late.
"Green Eye... If you get this message... Please... Kill him. Just kill him, please, it's what this world needs. The human race needs this... 'thing' dead. He's not a man. He's a monster. Just like me. Oh, god, please forgive me..." Dr. Scott said.
Placing the gun in his mouth, Dr. Scott pulled the trigger, sending his brain and blood splattering against a wall behind him.
Dr. Scott is dead.
The film then cut to the Freak once again, working through a drug-fueled fit through a high-speed montage. The montage showed portrayals of him running around like a madman through speed, rocking in one place in a fetal position, jumping up and down, and committing various acts of self-abuse, just to name some of the activities he carried out.
In the present time, the Freak gave a wide smile in anticipation, waiting for the Green Eye's reaction to the ending.
"This is it, this is it! This is the big ending! This is where it finally comes to-" The Freak began to say.
Suddenly, the Freak felt his empatic reach sense 5 presences make their way into Quigley Stadium, none of which he was familiar with. Needing to deal with the more immediate threat of the intruders, he left the Green Eye to watch the rest of the film on his own, seeing where it would lead.
"Damn it. Here, you go ahead and watch, no need to tell me how it ends. I already know." The Freak said.
The montage finally ended with a shot of the Freak mumbling on the floor, seeming to have a conversation with another being, but with no one else in the room. His rant continued on for a good number of minutes, passing by the time with glossolaliac nonsensical mumblings, coming soon to another cut of the Freak appearing normal (in his own way) once again.
Seating himself to the camera, the Freak addressed it directly, as if speaking to the viewer; something he sought to do verbally as well as physically.
"Hey Arnold. Enjoy the show?" The freak asked.
The Green Eye's dwindling focus from the horrific film soon snapped to the screen again, hearing his real name call his attention.
"So, by now, you're probably wondering what the point of all that horror show was. Well, that comes in part from my talk with god. Or, whatever he is. See, the reason why I think he's god is because he can control time. All of it. He can see all kinds of possibilities and snuff them out, getting the exact one he wants. The term's debatable, but I'd like to think that would pretty much make you god. But, I've been looking so hard and so long to try to find some manner of purpose again. When I first saw him, he told me about his whole 'divine plan', something like that, how he want to create his own future. Well, that's fine and dandy, but I wanted to know where I fit into that story. He told me that I was trying to find another purpose, but I don't have to. I still have my purpose: To take you down. To prove you wrong. All he did was give me a little reminder of that. If anything, I've now got more reason to follow through that purpose. So, then, why all the ultra-violence? Simple. I need to get you to hate me. I need to get you to despise me. I need to get you to see me as an absolute abomination beyond redemption. Do you know why that is?" The Freak asked.
The Freak gave a smile before giving his answer, chuckling at the imminent statement.
"Because, in order to beat you, I need you to kill me. That's how I prove your way wrong. Oh, and do you know what the best part of all that is?" The Freak asked.
The Green Eye took in the Freak's plan with unease, knowing that his own personal mission had made him madder than before. It is not the dedication to die that disturbs him most, but what the Green Eye heard next out of his enemy's mouth is one that brings him an absolute sense of fear...
...because, somehow, he knows that the Freak is not lying.
"He told me, in the timeline he's set, it already happens." The Freak said.