Chapter Two
Sylvester McMonkey McBean found himself drunk again, sitting in a back alley, the last of his whiskey quickly disappearing. Another "successful business venture", and he had plenty to drink, but there's only so many creatures out there you can fool into thinking they need a star on their bellies. Fools. Morons. Troglodytes. Ever sense he was a boy, he knew he was smarter than most people. So lost in his thoughts that he doesn't notice the dark skinned woman with black hair and black sunglasses sidle up beside him.
"Hey, Fix-it-up-Chappy." She says. He turns and glares at this woman. He knew her. Those headphones around her neck. The purple shirt, the jeans. She looked like a normal, Indian girl, but something seemed...off about her, and Sylvester couldn't put his finger on it.
"Long time no see." He says to her, coldly. He remembered her from when he was a boy in the orphanage. She would stare at him from across the street, but no one else seemed to see her. "What are you doing here?" She smirks, just like the red-head.
"You're drunk again, aren't you, Syl?" She chortled. "Bad boy. Naughty, naughty."
"Did you come here after all this time to lecture me on the evils of drink?"
"No, my Master and I just think a life should have meaning to it, and let's face it, McBean, you're life has no meaning. The Sneetches? Scamming those poor things? It's a wonder they didn't come after you once they came around."
"Your Master?" She takes her sunglasses off and Sylvester flinches; he was not expecting what he saw. Black sclera, gold irises, and vertical slit pupils. He knew she wasn't human.
"My Master takes the sinful amongst you mortals and redeems you through the crucible of his work. You must pledge yourself in service to my Master. Become an agent of justice and be granted immortality and eteral youth." He sat on the cold, damp pavement for a while mulling this over.
"Immortality. Eternal Youth. Sounds nice, but I have no idea who this girl is. She's been following me for years; since I was a kid. What if she's some kind of demon from Hell? Her eyes, man. Those eyes aren't something something holy would have. She's not a vampire; she used to watch me during the daytime-sun right on her."
"Well?"
"I'm weighing my options, give me a second!" She begins humming Pearl Jam's "Immortality" at him while he thinks. "Stop that!" He lets out a sigh. "Tell me what you are, at least."
"I'm an Operator, number Eighty-six to be exact. We're not human, just servants of The Master. We're not Angels, and we're not Demons-if that's what you want to know. Join me, and become an Operator." She puts her hand out. "What do you say, McBean?" He looks at her tan hand for a moment before putting out his own.
"Deal. Make me what you are. I want immortality, I want etermal youth."
"Sleep." His eyes flutter, and he falls back onto the pavement, completely unconscious. The strange woman drops down to his level, slices open his arm and then, slices open her own. While his blood is a deep, healthy red, her's is black and drips like ichor. She places the wound on her arm to the wound on his and begins the transformation. A few seconds later, Sylvester sits up, gasping for breath. He felt a strange surge of energy like he'd never felt before. The whiskey-haze had gone away, replaced by a clarity of mind he'd never had before. He didn't even want the liquor any more. He felt powerful, like he could dent a truck with one punch. What's more, is he was no longer balding-his was a head of curly, blond hair.
"So, am I like you now? Are my eyes the same as they were?"
"Yep. Your eyes won't change, and you won't be able to regenerate your clothes, so keep that in mind."
"What?"
"If, in the line of duty, you find yourself dismembered, you limb will grow back, but the sleeve or pantleg won't. That's how it works for Bairns like you."
"Bairn?"
"Someone born human who becomes an Operator. Now, come on. We have to get you to HQ and get your weapon." Before he can speak, 86 grabs him by the shoulder and the two of them vanish, leaving the alley empty once again.
They reappear in front of the same great fortress as The Once-ler and 38. 86 points to a massive spire in the center.
"That's where The Master lives. You won't be meeting him today. Let's go get you a weapon. You can't mete out justice without one!" She laughs, hearty and warm. 86 and Sylvester walk down a long, blindingly white hallway before reaching a dark room. It reeked of gun oil, gun powder, and several other scents Sylvester didn't recognize. A young man, this one with the same black and gold eyes, emerges from behind a large case. He kicks it open and inside is a war-hammer with a silver head.
"There you go." The young man says. Sylvester looks down at the cartoonishly large hammer sitting in foam in a metal case.
"How do I pick that up?"
"With your hands. Honestly, 86, are you sure this is the guy Master wanted you go get?" Miffed, Sylvester reaches down into the case and, with one hand, finds he is able to hoist the gargantuan hammer from its resting place and rest it on his shoulder. Sylvester looks to 86.
"What are we to do, now?"
"Now, I go get my gauss rifle and we teach you how to Blink."