[ PROLOGUE: MEET THE AGENT ]
[ "and that is how I was able to fit 13 cucumbers inside my ass, and yes, it is as painful as it does sounds." ] An Interrogator dressed in a surgeon outfit, wearing a face mask and wearing goggles could be heard rambling for hours on end about weird stuff.
It ranging from his dreams of making his parents proud which is nearly impossible, to even much more weirder topics like free healthcare, ending world hunger, and yes, fitting cucumbers on his... you know where— which sounded the most normal out of the topics he discussed an hour in.
At the moment, the said gangster that is at the moment tied up on a chair, in the dark with only a small light from above to light his face up, could already be seen sweating bullets as he tries to speak through the mask that has been tied around his mouth to no avail. No matter what.
As he tries to end the torture that he is suffering at the moment, which he doesn't know is just merely a prelude to the torture that he is about to experience. That seemingly unfathomable to him as he cries manly tears, trying to break free from his very comfortable rope bindings. [ "HMFFF HMGHHFF!!!" ]
[ "Huh... what's that, good sir?" ] Curious, the masked man turned around, ztopping himself from preparing his syringe, needles, hammers, and torture instruments. [ "Oh no..." ] As he noticed the man he was supposed to torture foam in the mouth.
[ "Did I do... that?" ] Taking off his mask, off his goggles which is heavily tinted with black, as his worried purple eyes was then shown to the world. All that said concern directed at the man he is supposed to torture turn purple, as he questions his sleeping squirrel on his desk.
Approaching the said man, he then placed his hand on the foreard of his. [ "You're burning, good heavens!" ] As he noticed the temperature of his supposed enemy, on the bad-bad side which fever... And the fact that he isn't breathing, reacting, or have a pulse. [ "And you have no pulse... damn it." ]
Groaning to himself, he then went to his desk, as he then takes the heavily dusty covered book from it. Opening it up, he was able to hear whispers coming from the book— but in not caring about riches, souls, power, except women with big boobs... the book wasn't able to sway him to it's side, as he then flips to page 69-70.
[ "Okay-okay, here it is. Nosferatu's way on reanimating someone." ] He did what the book told, setting candles in a pentagram manner, drilling a hole in the middle of the man's skull, and praying to an unknown deity as he asks for his wish thrice; no more, no less. After some time, the incantations he chanted began to have life, as it then floats to the hole of the deceased man.
[ "Did it work...?" ] Curious by this, he then flipped to page 71 but could only see how to bake eyeball brownies that looks delicious at all; if it weren't for being so complicated, then perhaps he would have already baked it... But it was so-so; why do he even have to sacrifice a maiden's virginity for these?! Scratching his head, he worries if he missed a step on the tutorial he read. As he then tries to re-read the steps on it... Unbeknownst to him, the once deceased gangster behind him is levitating, even the chair as red lights released from every surface of his body... Before then falling back on the ground when he glanced.
[ "Definitely... faulty. Where even did I go wrong?" ] As the said unnamed man then walked circles, around the tied up man... Reading his book, he then realized one crucial part of it... and that'll be to sprinkle in salt, lest the body be possesed by a low-ranking demon causing panic, destruction and unrest to anyone close by.
[ "Oh, that explains." ] He glanced at the immobilized body and then at the packet of unopened salt besides his table, as he then quickly opens it, before then dozing all of it on the body of the man he was supposed to torture... in turn causing the man to gain back his life, and consciousness. [ "HMF?!" ]
Seeing this happen first-hand, the unnamed Investigator became comforted, as he glances at the face of the panicked man in front. As he then hugs this no-named thug, to the other's dismay, as he tries to get out. [ "Thank heavens, you alive! I-I seriously thought you left me. But you didn't! Anyways, you ready to talk now?" ]
Looming over the terrified thug, the Investigator smiles, as he then grabs a hammer nearby before then wacking the man over and over, killing him "accidentally", before then resurrecting him again. [ "Speak! I-I need to know where you hid the money, the jewels, the Australium!" ]
He kept beating the latter with his wrench, as this act slowly unbeknownst to him turns into a fetish play or some sorts, as even though the latter wants to speak with all his might. His mouth is indeed binded by the rope, and couldn't open it no matter what. [ "Oh wait, you couldn't speak... Whoops!" ]
Face palming himself using the blooded wrench of his, he then smiled at the man below him. Apologizing through his eyes, as even though the man is bleeding, have a dent on his face, looks like someone only a mother could love— he is after all a no-named thug who does crime, in which the said man doesn't respect much.
Untying the bindings on the man's mouth, Charles, or the Interrogator in this case was finally able to hear the answer that he had wanted to hear for hours now. [ "Okay-okay, got it. Thank you." ] As he then quickly list it all down, before then flicking his fingers, causing the suffering man to burn in purples flames, screaming before finally resting... forever this time.
[ "Finally, done as ever!" ] Taking off his costume, Charles then smiles at himself as he hears the screaming of the thug on the chair. As no one is there to see it, hear it, or to save him... this gives him comfort as he remembers the atrocities this man and his group had done; all crimes commited by him ranging from murder, torture, kidnapping, bombing so-on and so-forth.
And in seeing that this man didn't get to live pass his 30s, die in his bed with women around him, sucking on him... Charles, he felt that everything in the world is right, as he then felt content. All except for the fact that this man's group is still alive... a fraternity, a gang, or something-something that he heard of some times. [ KUK ]
Pulling him out of his thoughts, the once sleeping squirrel on his desk— Mr. Fitzgerald gets woken up, as it then immediately went to his arms, crawling into a circle as he tries to catch his attention. In which he did exceptionally at that, [ "Oh, hello, Mr. Fitzgerald, how'd you've been?" ]
Allowing the said squirrel to climb up his purple suit, Charles watches carefully as he then rest comfortably on the right side of his suit. About to play more with his best friend, Charles then tones out the screaming of the thug, which is slowly losing strength as he continues to ask questions to his friend, [ "Did I perhaps ruined your sleep? Please don't tell me I did, that's a crime!" ]
About to sit down on his chair, Charles was disturbed by the sole doors of his room/garage gets kicked open... alerting his squirrel friend, and also him as he held onto the pistol— a Glock 17 originally belonging to the burning man behind him, as he then points it at the direction of his door. [ "Oh." ]
Only lowering it when he realized who it was, a 5'9ft tall unknown man dressed in all black, wearing dark tinted glasses and a black fedora that he somewhat recognizes. That wasn't what made him actually stand down, what made him is instead the small tv attached to the man's chest, [ "Hi, Mr. whoever-you-are. And hi, boss!" ]
To be more precise, the old crone on the other end of the tv... having a mostly black hair except for the gray streak from the middle, her features wrinkled as she wears a stoic and resolved expression— the Administrator as she is called. Her features then quickly softening somewhat when she noticed the awkward smiling face of Charles— an newbie Agent of TF Industries.
[ "Hello, Charles... I see that you have been busy, working on these projects of yours." ] Through the tv, she glanced around the room, at the weird items and machinations around it, as the man the tv is attached too moved around the room; stopping on a weird torture device. [ "Wonderful... Dear, I hope that you haven't forgotten about your little... assignment, have you?" ]
[ "I-I haven't, ma'am. B-but don't worry, it'll be done shortly, and the uhh- items you wanted they'll be delivered within... give or take 18-" ] He explained as best as he could, while looking at the scribbled note of his... Due to poor handwriting, he couldn't even understand what he just wrote down. [ "No, 12 hours tops, don't worry about it." ]
But he knows giving an unsatisfactory answer would definitely get him shot, just like the other Agents. So he swallowed the saliva around his throat and just blurted out a random answer that he hopes satisfy... To his surprise, it actually does, as the features of the old hag softens some more; which is hard to see, but to Charles, he could see it.
[ "That is very good, Agent No. 13... I'll send some backup to help you quicken you're mission, do not disappoint." ] After saying that, without even giving Charles a chance to respond the television attached to the man exploded causing guts and blood to spill around the room of his... [ "Oh man, what- I just cleaned this place..." ]
[ "W-where am I?!?" ] On the other hand, the mind control attached to the tv guy was cut off due to the pain he expetienced. As he then screams... [ BANG ] Which was then cut off by Charles shooting the man in the head, to not alert the neighbours more, and to of course end his suffering. [ "Damn..." ]
Groaning to himself, he wonders when that said backup would arrive. While wondering this, he then gave the paper he is holding to his small critter friend for safekeeping. In which Mr. Fitzgerald did, as he then hides it. [ "I guess... I need to clean... again." ]
About to start that, he paused as he hears the doorbell of his house rang... Which is a surprise because he rarely gets any visitors aside from terrorist, preachers, or terrorist in disguise as preachers. To make matters worse, he doesn't even know which-of-which is worse of those 3, as he groans.
[ "Coming!" ] Coughing to himself, he then casted a spell to make the room of his which smells like two dead guys, to not smell like that. As he then moves out, his gun at hand hidden behind him; still suspicious that someone is outside. So he asked out loud. [ "Who is it?!" ]
[ "Hi, uhh- I'm Ms. Pauling." ] A girl?! Caught off guard, Charles almost dropped his gun on the floor as he then peeks through the door of his... And to his surprise, no buff 6'5ft tall guy is standing outside with a knuckle, but is instead a short goddess with dark hair tinged a bit with purple.
Not registering her voice, Charles instead locked in on her appearance overall. Green eyes, soft features, pale skin, glass wearing and purple clothes with a black-purple skirt combo. The same dress attire which Charles is wearing, as his is a male version— him having a purple suit, pants and all... Oh wait, she's the backup.
He glanced out the door again to confirm his suspicion, and as he did so. His guess was indeed verified when he rechecked everything... She is indeed the backup the Administrator had sent, and not an assasin from some backwater gang that he is currently targeting— about to rob actually. [ "Can I come in now, please?" ]
[ ——— ] [ ——— ] [ ——— ] [ ——— ]
[ 06/22/2025 ]
[ 06/23/2025 ]