Nightmares of the Forgotten

From the Story Arc: A Lust for Vengence

Previous Story in the Arc: The chasm of friendships by Jaguar 7 (Monday, August 30, 2004)

Next Story in the Arc: Kid - Read this VERY carefully by Kostyak (Monday, August 30, 2004)

(posted Monday, August 30, 2004)

The two guards hovered over Cyriss, guns loaded. Cyriss continued to lazily sit in the iron chair as if dumb from the world around him. “Look at this guy…I heard they were the best. What a load of shit. That Alex guy took out the whole team!” Cyriss twitched at the last sentence. “Oh buddy; did I say something to offend you?” The other guard nudged the first one, “Knock it off, this guy is creeping me out.” The first guard bent forward until his face was almost in front of Cyriss. “Lets see what they almighty Jaguar team can d- aaahhAGG! SHIT!” The other guard stumbled and shakily held his gun at Cyriss, “What’s wrong, what happened!” Still hunched over clearly in pain, the guard sputtered, “MY HAND…HE’S GOT MY GUN!” Cyriss had twisted the man’s hand and fingers straight up, while his gun was pointed at the bottom of his throat. In a low voice, Cyriss asked a simple question, “Where’s Alex?”


The guard spat a curse and tried to wrestle himself free. A sickening pop was heard and the guard dropped at his feet. Mechanically Cyriss aimed the gun at the other person and fired three shots. The mirrored glass, where the man with the intercom was, cracked and a shower of glass hit the floor. The man and two soldiers beyond the window, lay dead. The remaining guard collapsed on the floor, frightened beyond words, while Cyriss slowly stood up and walked over to him. The gun clicked and Cyriss bent over; almost whispering he asked again, “where…is…he?” The guard fumbled his gun dropping it and stuttered, “Three floors up…Command Room….Please don’t kill me, I have a family!” Cyriss laughed and reached for the guard’s throat.


Calmly he removed the communicator and headset. The guard fainted with a groan. Cyriss grabbed his gun and walked over to the window. Trying his best to avoid injuries, he climbed into the office and relieved the other corpses of their weapons. As he was walking out the radio went off, “Steel Tower to Dungeon, we heard gunshots, what’s your status?” Cyriss hesistated and then answered, “Code AV58…the basterd tried to put up a fight…but we got him, over.” There was silence and then the radio clicked, “…Roger that, I’ll let Command know…over and out.” Cyriss used the confiscated keycard to open the door and proceeded to the stairs, but turned. It wasn’t Alex he was after, it was Crey. If Alex died in the process, then that was a bonus. He quietly laughed to himself, “Can’t go out in a blaze of glory…not yet.” With that he walked back over to the guard and stripped him. After putting on the uniform, he checked himself on the shattered window and smiled, “If I die with this thing on, I’ll never forgive myself.”


Cyriss continued to the Command Room, saluting officers and waving to guards. The keycard managed to get him past all the security as well. In just a few minutes he stood at the command room’s entrance. Before he could figure out a plan of attack, the door opened. A chain of people walked out and he saluted. They ignored him and continued down the hall. Everyone was gone…yet the door stood open. Cautiously he walked in expecting a trap. His head began to pound and he heard voices, very faint ones all mixed together, “…he flipped out, I swear, he was going to shoot us! But he didn’t seem himself…That’s not an excuse for his behavior, I have no choice but to decommission him until we find the syrum for his sickness…is that understood Commissar Kostyak?....Yes General, and I talked to his doctor as well. He told me the Rikti energy combined or something with the poison and almost burned his body out. But the good news is the poison has vanished momentarily. At least he’ll have a better head on his shoulders for a little while anyway…” Suddenly the voices disappeared and everything was clear as day again. But his heart was on fire…it was pounding, as if scared senseless. He approached the desk in front of him and smelled burning flesh. The walls began to sag and blood crept toward him from the chair still facing away. He heard a beeping sound rapidly pulsating. There was a scream of pure terror and the chair spun around. The burning armored skeleton of Jaguar 1 dropped onto the desk with an ear splitting crash; the head rolled off and landed at his feet. The flaming skull stared up at Cyriss and whispered, “I’m sorry it had to come to this Jaguar 7.”


Jaguar let out a whimper as he stood up in bed…soaked in sweat. He buried his head into his hands and wept for a past he dared not to remember…or forget. After a few moments he tightened his good arm and could feel much of his strength. He looked over to the chair next to his bed and saw his armor. “So I’m poison free for a little while? Please forgive me General…and Kostyak, but you have no idea what happened to me…so many years ago… Alex Vega…you don’t deserve the name Jaguar…”


Jaguar climbed out of bed and reached for his armor. After suiting up he crept toward the window and looked back. He apologized again to the ghostly figures of his commissars arguing at his bedside, still fresh in memory. And with that he silently headed for his Crey informant…