DeadMan's Hand - Prelude 2
Posted: Wed Jan 21, 2026 4:02 pm
Over two-hundred years ago...
Pete watches as the atomic cloud rises, the sense of dread having long left him in the wake of original news of the global panic. "Just like a flower." he mutters as the atomic weapons detonate hundreds of miles away. As a flower in the spring time opens up, first starting as a bud and ending as a fanned out object of beauty, the fiery cloud seems to be an antonym of that same beauty. The initial beauty of the flash turns to a rising cloud of gray ash and dark destructive residue.
The ash had already been falling for a few hours. His radioactive suit protecting him and his crew for the most part from the devastation. Peter Black knew what all of this had meant, global panic had finally turned to global destruction. The resulting explosions had caused quite the paranormal activities along with enough global climate and tectonic changes that even strange phenomenon were sprouting. Lines of bluish-white energy started to crisscross the land. Where those lines crossed, balls of light-bluish light sprang up, spilling visions only nightmares could come up with. Some of his crew had gone mad and were instantly put down before they could do any damage. Others went other ways to avoid the onslaught. Yet, others, who Pete cared about, were separated in the initial panic.
One particular man, Art Cook, had given him a strange object. A triangular peice of metal with a peg sticking out of it that could be folded back into the triangle. The substance that it was made from is still unknown, yet had a light gloss to it. It hung from a sturdy, thin chain which Art had given to him before he died. He still can recall the meeting from before the chaos began.
******** ******** ********
"Pete? I need to talk to you about something."
"Oh? What's on yer mind, ole buddy?" Pete glances up at Arthur, with his steely blue gaze.
"I had a dream, man..." He holds up his hand, revealing a cut along his palm, "This is going to sound crazy, but I want you to listen."
"Heh, too much to drink again last night? I tell ya..."
Pete's laughing remark is cut off, "LISTEN!" the look in Art's brown eyes begins to cause Pete's neck hairs to start rising. He nods slowly, Art continues, "In about six months, a chain of events is going to lead to an international dispute, the end result will be global destruction. I saw myself die. I dont know where I was, but when I was dreaming, I tried to climb out of a window to escape the explosions. I woke up with this cut." he leans down onto Pete's desk and peers into his semi-skeptical eyes, "You're my best friend and I need to work this out with you." Art's skin is paler than his usual tanned complexion.
Art waits as Pete finally starts in, recomposing himself, "Have you seen a doctor about th..."
"Damnit! Listen to me!" Almost insane rage fills Art's eyes, "I really need you man, just humor me if anything." He pulls from his pocket a triangular object with a chain attached to it. He puts it on the table, "I want you to take that. Protect it with your life. I will die on the third day of the global holocaust, if I'm wrong, Ill give you my entire share of the Cyberworks stocks we invested in. So will you listen?"
Pete nods, a more grim smile on his face, "When you put it that way, then I know you are serious, whether it sounds loony or not. What's so important about that necklace of yours?"
"When I was a kid, my dad gave me this. He'd told me that it was passed down from generation to generation since even his grandfather could remember. But all they kept saying was that it would be part of saving the world. There was another one similar to this which my dad gave to my step-brother, Drake Crenshaw or something like that. I can't remember the exact name," he shakes his head as though to get back on track, "Anyways, I thought it was just a bunch of family mumbo-jumbo, even my dad was skeptical, till this dream. The dream kept... I dont know...
"Everytime I turned a corner, I swear it started glowing. Then this peg came out from the back of it. After I woke up, I noticed that if you slid the piece of metal down, a peg would swing out. I'm telling you that I'm right. When I started wearing that thing, I stopped having the dreams. But, in my dream, I knew that I wasn't supposed to have it. Instead, I saw you wearing it, or at least someone that resembled you quite a bit. When the time comes, one of your ancestors, along with the help of several others, will figure out what it all means and save the world from its own demise." Art looks utterly confused at what he himself is saying and then shakes his head, "Please?"
Pete laughs and slaps his friends shoulder, "Anything you say, Art. If it was anyone else, I would have kicked them out of my office but I've never seen you act like this so... Maybe it does mean something." Pete thinks to himself, 'something is very very wrong. No dream shakes up Art like that. I need to get him to enjoy himself. Yeah... that's it,' He looks hard at Art, "Hey Art? What are you doing tonight? There's a happy hour at the..."
************ ************ ************
Pete continues to stare at the explosion, then looks down at the pendant and sighs, "You were right, Art ole buddy. Third day." He looks up, misty eyed. Pete tries to keep as calm as best as he can, with his seven other companions he stares on. "I tried to make it to you... Things just didn't work out. I had it all planned to save you, buddy. You were right." He turns to walk away. He nods to two of his companions who came from the same office as himself. The other five just survivors trying to stick with the strong.
Pete walks westward as he calls back over his shoulder, "The big cities are all being hit and there are reports of tornados, hurricanes and volcanos going nuts to the east and south. We head west. I know of a nice little cove that could support us for months and if the military happens to come that way looking for survivors," Pete voice trails off as the eight survivors set out for a new life. A life and a chain of events that will lead up to fulfill Art's prophetic dream.
*************************************
Centuries later...
The desert heat beats down on the cracked and parched earth. The heat after the former day's rainstorm had caused quite a few wide, deepened cracks in the rustic colored desert dirt. The air above the horizon wavers to the intensity of the desert heat. Four wavering figures desperately run from one plateau, trying to get to the next.
Jill, leads Larry, Cody and Santos as fast as she can. "Run guys, he's coming! He won't stop with them, he wants everyone who betrayed him!" She breaths in between labored gasps as she tries to lift her fatigue-heavy legs. Silver black speckles dance across her vision, and she begins gagging as she tries to keep running.
Larry pulls Cody along as Santos wretches and then vomits on himself. Larry looks forward, panting, "Maybe... m mmaybe he isn't really after us!"
"Dusty knows we were involved!" Her dusty, brunette locks fall forward, gluing to her glistening, sweat-coated face.
"Just keep going, I have a knife. Here, Cody, Santos, take my spare blades." Larry gasps between breaths.
Eventually, the group makes it to the next plateau, leaning against the rocks on the shady side. Cody puts his hands behind his head as his face goes pale from over exertion. He leans his head back to get a better breath of air as he closes his eyes.
Larry helps Santos over and sits against the wall of the rocky plateau base. Jill pulls a canteen from her pack and takes a drink. She walks over and stands above Larry and Santos, glowering down from her large dark eyes. Santos, with dark tan skin, hair and eyes, wearily sighs as he begins to close his eyes almost simply to stop and sleep. Larry reaches up for her canteen, his blue eyes bright from the exhilaration of the half morning run.
Jill begins to hand the canteen down as a strange choking sound comes from behind her from Cody's direction. She moves to reveal that Cody isn't there. Larry immediately looks up with an fearful exclamational grunt. Cody is suspended in the air by a nylon cord about twenty feet above the ground. A noose chokes around his neck. The rope travels up and disappears over a rocky outcropping in the wall face. Cody's face begins to turn from a maroon color to an almost purplish bluish as his eyes begin to glaze. Blood begins to pour from his nose as he desperately claws at the rope to get himself pulled up. The strength draining from him with every attempt.
Larry and Jill, both excellent climbers, begin scrambling up the face of the rocky wall. Something they were both known for. Cody's glazed eyes gradually lose complete focus and just stare into the distance as his hands loosely fall to his side. The front of his pants begin to soak as he loses control of his bodily functions. His body begins jerking, nerves firing to try and keep him alive or signify that he will die soon. Halfway up the wall, Larry misses a handhold and falls backwards. The hollow thump is heard down below as Jill makes it to Cody. She cuts the rope, letting Cody free fall down.
As she looks down, she sees Santos lying on the ground, desperately clutching at his throat, trying to keep the blood from pouring from between his fingers. The life slowly leaving his eyes as he tries to scream, only to scream from the gaping hole in his throat. A high pitched whine like a rabbit's last death cries. She looks just a few feet over to see Cody, lying on the ground, the rope still around his neck and still choking him. The other end of the rope wraps itself around Larry's neck, pulled tight by the gloved hand of Dusty. Cody's high pitched squeals become no more than gusts of air, farting out of his gaping wound. Santos' eyes already having lost life. His body just hasn't registered death yet.
Dusty looks up at her, a sarcastic smirk on his well tanned face. His sandy blonde hair falling loosely around his face as his gray eyes stare back up at her. Not much younger than herself, his experience proven by his last week of actions as the only survivor of the ruling body in Drive City. His boyish features make him look younger, but those eyes. The eyes have seen too much and endured much. Now it's his turn to dish out the carnage. His smile turns from sarcasm to an evil smile as he pulls the rope tighter. Cody already dead as the same rope is choking her only surviving friend. She gets ready to climb down as she shouts, "Leave us alone! We're sorry! We needed the money! Please, let him go and take me." Tears begin to blur her vision as she notices Larry mouth the word run. As his mouth is open, she can hear the hollow pop and crunch of his windpipe crushing under the strangling rope.
"I have a trick or two of my own, you devious little bitch! I think I will take you anyways." Dusty says loudly but softly as he grabs and handful of Larry's hair. Larry's horrible choking sounds are cut short by the rocky wall of the plateau. His face becomes a red smear across the wall as Dusty continues to look up. He lets go of Larry. Larry falls limply to the sandy floor. She sees Dusty's hand glow for a second as a dagger materializes in it from thin air. A disbelieving look crosses Jill's face as she scurries up the rocky face again, turning and looking up. oO(I can make it. He can't be a faster climber than me. There's no way! How did he do...)Oo She feels a hand grab her from behind on her pack and yank her backwards. She falls...
For what seems like an eternity, she sails towards the ground. Her insides feeling light, and then... She hears a horrible snap as she lands on her side. She suddenly hears a high pitched tone in her ears. The sand feels like bricks as the wind is knocked from her. The cold feeling throughout her body and the silver specks lining her vision tell her that she is hurt badly. She tries to get up but can only roll to her knees. Finally, she is able to gasp for air. Dusty's feet come into view in front of her. She looks up to his knees and then notices that he had set up Cody, Larry and Santos on either side of her, kneeling in death with the tops of their heads to the ground. "Yes, you set a good example," She can hear Dusty announce as though from a distance. Her hearing's still ringing with the impact of the fall. "Kneel before me. I am a lord after all. This is what I am to expect from everyone. I am the lord of the wastes and I will be known to all!"
Jill finally gathers the energy to endure the pain in her neck and back to look up at Dusty. He looks down at her with a handsome smile and insanity radiating from his eyes. She sees the barrel of a gun loom in to obstruct her entire vision. "I told you that you'd be the one kneeling before me, Jillian. I win once and for all." A flash and then nothing.
Dusty grins and then begins to casually search through their belongings. He finally stands up and mutters to himself, "nine down, seven to go," only grabbing the essential credits, water and his victims' ears, he continues towards Drive City to exact his revenge.
Pete watches as the atomic cloud rises, the sense of dread having long left him in the wake of original news of the global panic. "Just like a flower." he mutters as the atomic weapons detonate hundreds of miles away. As a flower in the spring time opens up, first starting as a bud and ending as a fanned out object of beauty, the fiery cloud seems to be an antonym of that same beauty. The initial beauty of the flash turns to a rising cloud of gray ash and dark destructive residue.
The ash had already been falling for a few hours. His radioactive suit protecting him and his crew for the most part from the devastation. Peter Black knew what all of this had meant, global panic had finally turned to global destruction. The resulting explosions had caused quite the paranormal activities along with enough global climate and tectonic changes that even strange phenomenon were sprouting. Lines of bluish-white energy started to crisscross the land. Where those lines crossed, balls of light-bluish light sprang up, spilling visions only nightmares could come up with. Some of his crew had gone mad and were instantly put down before they could do any damage. Others went other ways to avoid the onslaught. Yet, others, who Pete cared about, were separated in the initial panic.
One particular man, Art Cook, had given him a strange object. A triangular peice of metal with a peg sticking out of it that could be folded back into the triangle. The substance that it was made from is still unknown, yet had a light gloss to it. It hung from a sturdy, thin chain which Art had given to him before he died. He still can recall the meeting from before the chaos began.
******** ******** ********
"Pete? I need to talk to you about something."
"Oh? What's on yer mind, ole buddy?" Pete glances up at Arthur, with his steely blue gaze.
"I had a dream, man..." He holds up his hand, revealing a cut along his palm, "This is going to sound crazy, but I want you to listen."
"Heh, too much to drink again last night? I tell ya..."
Pete's laughing remark is cut off, "LISTEN!" the look in Art's brown eyes begins to cause Pete's neck hairs to start rising. He nods slowly, Art continues, "In about six months, a chain of events is going to lead to an international dispute, the end result will be global destruction. I saw myself die. I dont know where I was, but when I was dreaming, I tried to climb out of a window to escape the explosions. I woke up with this cut." he leans down onto Pete's desk and peers into his semi-skeptical eyes, "You're my best friend and I need to work this out with you." Art's skin is paler than his usual tanned complexion.
Art waits as Pete finally starts in, recomposing himself, "Have you seen a doctor about th..."
"Damnit! Listen to me!" Almost insane rage fills Art's eyes, "I really need you man, just humor me if anything." He pulls from his pocket a triangular object with a chain attached to it. He puts it on the table, "I want you to take that. Protect it with your life. I will die on the third day of the global holocaust, if I'm wrong, Ill give you my entire share of the Cyberworks stocks we invested in. So will you listen?"
Pete nods, a more grim smile on his face, "When you put it that way, then I know you are serious, whether it sounds loony or not. What's so important about that necklace of yours?"
"When I was a kid, my dad gave me this. He'd told me that it was passed down from generation to generation since even his grandfather could remember. But all they kept saying was that it would be part of saving the world. There was another one similar to this which my dad gave to my step-brother, Drake Crenshaw or something like that. I can't remember the exact name," he shakes his head as though to get back on track, "Anyways, I thought it was just a bunch of family mumbo-jumbo, even my dad was skeptical, till this dream. The dream kept... I dont know...
"Everytime I turned a corner, I swear it started glowing. Then this peg came out from the back of it. After I woke up, I noticed that if you slid the piece of metal down, a peg would swing out. I'm telling you that I'm right. When I started wearing that thing, I stopped having the dreams. But, in my dream, I knew that I wasn't supposed to have it. Instead, I saw you wearing it, or at least someone that resembled you quite a bit. When the time comes, one of your ancestors, along with the help of several others, will figure out what it all means and save the world from its own demise." Art looks utterly confused at what he himself is saying and then shakes his head, "Please?"
Pete laughs and slaps his friends shoulder, "Anything you say, Art. If it was anyone else, I would have kicked them out of my office but I've never seen you act like this so... Maybe it does mean something." Pete thinks to himself, 'something is very very wrong. No dream shakes up Art like that. I need to get him to enjoy himself. Yeah... that's it,' He looks hard at Art, "Hey Art? What are you doing tonight? There's a happy hour at the..."
************ ************ ************
Pete continues to stare at the explosion, then looks down at the pendant and sighs, "You were right, Art ole buddy. Third day." He looks up, misty eyed. Pete tries to keep as calm as best as he can, with his seven other companions he stares on. "I tried to make it to you... Things just didn't work out. I had it all planned to save you, buddy. You were right." He turns to walk away. He nods to two of his companions who came from the same office as himself. The other five just survivors trying to stick with the strong.
Pete walks westward as he calls back over his shoulder, "The big cities are all being hit and there are reports of tornados, hurricanes and volcanos going nuts to the east and south. We head west. I know of a nice little cove that could support us for months and if the military happens to come that way looking for survivors," Pete voice trails off as the eight survivors set out for a new life. A life and a chain of events that will lead up to fulfill Art's prophetic dream.
*************************************
Centuries later...
The desert heat beats down on the cracked and parched earth. The heat after the former day's rainstorm had caused quite a few wide, deepened cracks in the rustic colored desert dirt. The air above the horizon wavers to the intensity of the desert heat. Four wavering figures desperately run from one plateau, trying to get to the next.
Jill, leads Larry, Cody and Santos as fast as she can. "Run guys, he's coming! He won't stop with them, he wants everyone who betrayed him!" She breaths in between labored gasps as she tries to lift her fatigue-heavy legs. Silver black speckles dance across her vision, and she begins gagging as she tries to keep running.
Larry pulls Cody along as Santos wretches and then vomits on himself. Larry looks forward, panting, "Maybe... m mmaybe he isn't really after us!"
"Dusty knows we were involved!" Her dusty, brunette locks fall forward, gluing to her glistening, sweat-coated face.
"Just keep going, I have a knife. Here, Cody, Santos, take my spare blades." Larry gasps between breaths.
Eventually, the group makes it to the next plateau, leaning against the rocks on the shady side. Cody puts his hands behind his head as his face goes pale from over exertion. He leans his head back to get a better breath of air as he closes his eyes.
Larry helps Santos over and sits against the wall of the rocky plateau base. Jill pulls a canteen from her pack and takes a drink. She walks over and stands above Larry and Santos, glowering down from her large dark eyes. Santos, with dark tan skin, hair and eyes, wearily sighs as he begins to close his eyes almost simply to stop and sleep. Larry reaches up for her canteen, his blue eyes bright from the exhilaration of the half morning run.
Jill begins to hand the canteen down as a strange choking sound comes from behind her from Cody's direction. She moves to reveal that Cody isn't there. Larry immediately looks up with an fearful exclamational grunt. Cody is suspended in the air by a nylon cord about twenty feet above the ground. A noose chokes around his neck. The rope travels up and disappears over a rocky outcropping in the wall face. Cody's face begins to turn from a maroon color to an almost purplish bluish as his eyes begin to glaze. Blood begins to pour from his nose as he desperately claws at the rope to get himself pulled up. The strength draining from him with every attempt.
Larry and Jill, both excellent climbers, begin scrambling up the face of the rocky wall. Something they were both known for. Cody's glazed eyes gradually lose complete focus and just stare into the distance as his hands loosely fall to his side. The front of his pants begin to soak as he loses control of his bodily functions. His body begins jerking, nerves firing to try and keep him alive or signify that he will die soon. Halfway up the wall, Larry misses a handhold and falls backwards. The hollow thump is heard down below as Jill makes it to Cody. She cuts the rope, letting Cody free fall down.
As she looks down, she sees Santos lying on the ground, desperately clutching at his throat, trying to keep the blood from pouring from between his fingers. The life slowly leaving his eyes as he tries to scream, only to scream from the gaping hole in his throat. A high pitched whine like a rabbit's last death cries. She looks just a few feet over to see Cody, lying on the ground, the rope still around his neck and still choking him. The other end of the rope wraps itself around Larry's neck, pulled tight by the gloved hand of Dusty. Cody's high pitched squeals become no more than gusts of air, farting out of his gaping wound. Santos' eyes already having lost life. His body just hasn't registered death yet.
Dusty looks up at her, a sarcastic smirk on his well tanned face. His sandy blonde hair falling loosely around his face as his gray eyes stare back up at her. Not much younger than herself, his experience proven by his last week of actions as the only survivor of the ruling body in Drive City. His boyish features make him look younger, but those eyes. The eyes have seen too much and endured much. Now it's his turn to dish out the carnage. His smile turns from sarcasm to an evil smile as he pulls the rope tighter. Cody already dead as the same rope is choking her only surviving friend. She gets ready to climb down as she shouts, "Leave us alone! We're sorry! We needed the money! Please, let him go and take me." Tears begin to blur her vision as she notices Larry mouth the word run. As his mouth is open, she can hear the hollow pop and crunch of his windpipe crushing under the strangling rope.
"I have a trick or two of my own, you devious little bitch! I think I will take you anyways." Dusty says loudly but softly as he grabs and handful of Larry's hair. Larry's horrible choking sounds are cut short by the rocky wall of the plateau. His face becomes a red smear across the wall as Dusty continues to look up. He lets go of Larry. Larry falls limply to the sandy floor. She sees Dusty's hand glow for a second as a dagger materializes in it from thin air. A disbelieving look crosses Jill's face as she scurries up the rocky face again, turning and looking up. oO(I can make it. He can't be a faster climber than me. There's no way! How did he do...)Oo She feels a hand grab her from behind on her pack and yank her backwards. She falls...
For what seems like an eternity, she sails towards the ground. Her insides feeling light, and then... She hears a horrible snap as she lands on her side. She suddenly hears a high pitched tone in her ears. The sand feels like bricks as the wind is knocked from her. The cold feeling throughout her body and the silver specks lining her vision tell her that she is hurt badly. She tries to get up but can only roll to her knees. Finally, she is able to gasp for air. Dusty's feet come into view in front of her. She looks up to his knees and then notices that he had set up Cody, Larry and Santos on either side of her, kneeling in death with the tops of their heads to the ground. "Yes, you set a good example," She can hear Dusty announce as though from a distance. Her hearing's still ringing with the impact of the fall. "Kneel before me. I am a lord after all. This is what I am to expect from everyone. I am the lord of the wastes and I will be known to all!"
Jill finally gathers the energy to endure the pain in her neck and back to look up at Dusty. He looks down at her with a handsome smile and insanity radiating from his eyes. She sees the barrel of a gun loom in to obstruct her entire vision. "I told you that you'd be the one kneeling before me, Jillian. I win once and for all." A flash and then nothing.
Dusty grins and then begins to casually search through their belongings. He finally stands up and mutters to himself, "nine down, seven to go," only grabbing the essential credits, water and his victims' ears, he continues towards Drive City to exact his revenge.