Adventures in Parodyverse: Underworld Part 3


    The Psychic Samurai sat in the back of one of Frankie’s vintage 1920’s bulletproof limousines as it started to roll slowly, almost casually, away from his night club.

    Riding in it was like being a passenger on a boat.  It sailed down the road, bobbing gently over road imperfections.  There was something a little disconcerting about it, when comparing it to modern autos.

    The interior was comfortable, though.  The seats were leather, so plush that Chiaki felt like she was sitting in the rear seat, not on it.  The walls and ceiling were quilted fabric, which made the ride quiet.  Beside her, with the sheath propped against the shag carpet floor and the handle against the side of her leg, was her sword.

    Just a minute ago, Frankie called the old-looking black telephone mounted on the center console in the front seat.  It was a cleverly disguised custom made wireless phone.  He gave the driver, Louis, a location to take Chiaki to.  That location would take them into Paradopolis.

    As promised, he immediately told Chiaki as he started driving.  There was a large factory which had been abandoned a long time ago, and had become home to a gang.  Their members had no pseudonyms that rang any bells, and neither did their gang name, but there was something about the location that sounded very familiar to Chiaki.

    After a very long drive, the limousine pulled into the crumbling parking lot of a derelict factory.  Nearly all the windows were broken, and the building didn’t look at all structurally sound.  Yet there was sound coming from it, a vibration, and smoke poured from one of the smokestacks.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I don’t like this,”  Chiaki whispered.  It all seemed way too familiar.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I got your back.”  Louis said.  As he stopped the car, he picked up a Tommy Gun that was lying on the passenger seat.

    Just then, there was a horrible ear-splitting metallic rending sound, and Louis screamed.  Long, giant metallic blades shredded the front half of the car, and tore it from the rear.  Louis had been impaled on one of the large blades, and his white pinstriped suit soaked in blood as he went limp.

    Chiaki held her sword firm with both hands, and she retreated into the latter half of the car.  She was cornered there, but considering the size of those blades, she was probably better off covered by some metal.

    There was a loud thud, as two mechanical feet landed beside her half of the car.  Then a mechanical head peered in.  “Why aren’t you doing your job?”  it asked.

    The Psychic Samurai had seen missions the Lair Legion had been on.  This mechanical monster who spoke to her was named Master Machine.  Most likely it was Mean Machine or Threshing Machine who just destroyed the car and killed Louis.

    She knew she was in a lot of trouble.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I asked you a question!”  Master Machine threatened more loudly.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“It was you who hired me?”  Chiaki asked.  “Why?  You could so easily kill Hatman and Visionary yourself.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“That’s none of your concern!”  he said.

    Political Machine decided to chime in at that point.  “If we attempt to kill Hatman and Visionary, the whole entire Lair Legion will stop us.  If they are already dead, they will be leaderless, and there won’t be anyone to stop us from destroying the rest of them.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“And they have a battle android capable of hunting us down and killing us all.”  Adding Machine worried.

    Chiaki considered that for a moment, wondering why they were so frightened of the small Anna.  At least her reputation, anyway - so perhaps they didn’t know the real thing so well.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Quiet, you!”  Master Machine warned him.  He then pointed at Chiaki.  “Do your job, and stop wasting time.  Otherwise, your pink friend will die.  And then you will die.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I can slice her up without killing her,”  Mean Machine offered.  “That way she’ll know we’re serious.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“She already knows we’re serious.”  Mean Machine pointed out.  “She knows what we’ll do.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“What if she brings the Lair Legion back here?”  Adding Machine worried some more.

    Mean Machine laughed.  “That would be pointless.  We’ll be long gone by then.  We know where she is, and where her friend, that pink menace, is.  But she doesn’t know where we’ll be.  We have all the advantage.”

    There was a great clattering of metal feet, and then Chiaki was left gripping her sword in the back seat of a shattered 1920’s limousine.  In the silence of the small space, she could feel her arms shaking, and the raspy breath of unimaginable fear.  She hated herself a little for it, feeling that if she were only stronger, she could have brought this whole thing to a hasty and violent end.

    Finally, she warily and shakily emerged from the remains of the limo, and looked over the immobile form of Louis.  She put her sword aside, and kneeled on the shredded remains of the seat, clasping her trembling hands together and closing her eyes to say a prayer for him and his family.

    Then once her eyes reopened, she strapped the sword to her back and started walking.  She was angry then, wondering if the Machine Shop thought it was humorous making her walk through one of the worst neighborhoods in Paradopolis alone. 

    Inspiration came to her then, in the strangest of places.  It often did.  She had the solution to the problem.


TO BE CONTINUED


-- Story written and copyrighted (C) 2010 by Jason Froikin, and may not be 
--    reprinted without permission.  
-- Yuki Shiro designed by Jason Froikin, based on designs by Masamune Shirow
--  Liu Xi Xian and the Psychic Samurai are original design by Jason Froikin
--  Lara Night is an original creation by Jason Froikin