The blame for the concept of this may be laid at the door of Angus McSpon. I
just grabbed the idea and ran with it.
Going for a touchdown,
--Komodo
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Keep/5268
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"You sure this is the place?"
"This is where they said they found her. Right outside this building." The
building in question was a blocky cement structure sitting on top of a low
hill just outside the city.
"Well, let's go in."
Slowly, the two young men ducked through the hole in the fence and made their
way through the tall grass.
"What is this place?"
"One of the sisters said it was an old lab, dating back to before the League.
Lot of stuff involving high end physics."
"Great."
It was at that point that they reached the front door. A small sign
proclaimed it to be Nerima Research.
"Hey. Check it. Tire tracks!" The older of the two bent and examined the
small depression in the ground under the overhang.
"Bicycle tracks," he confirmed.
"I don't get it," the younger one said as he removed his hat to run a hand
through his thick black hair. "Why would she come here? It doesn't make any
sense."
"Well, she was adopted."
"Yeah, but. . ." The younger man trailed off. "What I mean is. Why would she
say she was going home, then come back here?"
"Maybe this is her home."
"A two hundred year old laboratory? Be serious."
"I am. She never talked much about her past."
"Yeah. . ."
"This was your idea. In or out?" The younger one hesitated. She had extracted
a promise from them that they would not try to find her. Ever. No matter
what. Now they were here because they needed her. He knew she would never
forgive them for breaking their promise, but he knew even more that she would
kill them if they left her behind.
"In," he said firmly. His friend nodded and reached for the door.
The inside was dusty and stale. Lights flickered and flashed.
"Ew," they chorused as they took out their flashlights, the powerful beams
piercing the blackness and revealing sterile steel walls and plain gray
carpeting.
"Reminds me of Sabrina's."
"Yeah, only less weird." They both snickered. "So which way?" The older one
shone his flashlight at the floor.
"Straight ahead," he said, indicating the bicycle tracks and the footprints
beside it, which were visible only because the dust was lighter there then
around it.
"Okay." Said the younger one as they moved off, stepping carefully to avoid
the disturbing the dust.
It was perhaps five minutes later that they came to a bike sitting next to a
door and the younger one knelt beside it.
"Its hers," he confirmed.
"The footsteps lead in here," called the older one from a set of double doors
further down the hall.
"Great." Then the younger one noticed something. "Hey, look." He pointed to a
spot on the door where there was the faint sign of a handprint where somebody
had pushed the door open. Both men nodded to each other and entered.
The room was huge. In the center, surrounded by strange crystalline
formations, was a raised dais carved from some sort of glossy black substance.
The older one went over to the dais while the younger one moved to the
controls.
"Hey! Come look at this!" the older one called.
"What?" Asked the younger, moving to join his friend. He did not see the
controls suddenly light up or the monitor screen which displayed the number
sixty and began to slowly count down.
"Look," said the older one, pointing. Neatly inscribed into the dust was some
letters, some faded by time.
"Mi. . .as. . .ere." The younger one's face lit up. "Its her! She was here!"
Excited, he leapt up onto the dais.
The screen briefly flashed the number thirty and continued.
"Get off of there!" snapped the older one as he too, got onto the dais and
grabbed his friend's arm. "We don't know anything about this place!"
"But. . ." He sighed. "Its just that. . .hey, what's that noise?"
"What noise?" The older one cocked his head as he too heard it. A humming
noise that was slowly getting louder.
"That noise."
Unseen by either one, the countdown hit fifteen and continued onwards.
"What did you touch?"
"Nothin! I swear!"
Ten
A bright flash flared around the edges of the dais.
"What's that?"
The older one removed a piece of paper from his pocket crumpled it up and
tossed it at the edge. The paper burst into flames with a bright flash.
"Electrical field," he said quietly. "Enough to fry us into ash."
Five
"Not funny."
Four
"Sorry. Unintentional pun."
Three
"So now what?"
Two
"I think we're being sent to her."
"I hope you're right."
One.
Both young men threw up their hands as there was bright flash and then the
dais was empty.