The Casey Chronicles-Part Six

The last 3 years have been a whirlwind of activity and change. So much has happened since that fateful day when I cast the frozen block of ice that had once been known as Chuck Matthews into the cold and dark waters of Boston Harbor. The Insurgency has risen to heights that had been unimaginable by the limited brain of my father. We are still the nationwide organization that claims to “resist” ME and …but our aims have shifted away from toppling ME to toppling the government. It is the government that is infested by those who manipulate the system, the government that is riddled by lobbyists and dirty politicians whose votes are easily bought and sold like commodities. Besides, why would we want to topple ME when they keep us so well supplied? Well…technically it is Titan that keeps us well supplied with ME’s goods…but the point is still mute.

But, not everything is going as swimmingly as I would have hoped. There is another resistance group that has sprung up in America. This group of rebels truly believes in not using boosters…at all. They claim it’s because they have discovered a truly happy and healthy existence by not pumping their bodies full of dangerous chemicals and mutating their genetics. They also claim that The Insurgency has lost its way…that The Insurgency was once a truly noble organization before my father and I took over. Their leader’s favorite line, when asked about The Insurgency, is “Their aims were honorable before they were ‘purified’ by the Casey’s.”

The irony? The leader of this rebellion is my brother…Gavin Casey.

He doesn’t go by the family name anymore though. He still goes by the name “Gavin Price” for whatever reason. I remember my mother telling me that she used to use a different last name during her time in college before she met my father…but I can’t, for the life of me, figure out what that name was. Maybe it was Price…or maybe Gavin has just gone off the deep end. This little “rebellion” that my brother is so intent on spreading has been slowly growing in numbers…but they are still weak when compared to the might of The Insurgency and nothing compared to the government’s forces.

Oh, I almost forgot the most amusing part of all of this…Gavin’s right hand man and second in command…is none other than Chuck Matthews’ 3rd son…Drake Matthews.

The irony of this statement is almost too much to bear. It has been proven, time and again, that Matthews and Casey’s can not work together. It’s not that we shouldn’t work together…it’s not that we couldn’t work together…it’s the fact that a members from both families CAN’T work together. I have tried to inform my delusional brother about this very simple fact…but he refuses to see reason. I have tried to bring Gavin into The Insurgency…Titan has tried to reach out to Gavin and make Gavin see that it would behoove him to enter into an agreement like The Insurgency has with Titan. But Gavin and the sole surviving Matthews son simply refuse to compromise what they claim to be the “integrity and moral righteousness” of their rebellion.

Gavin and Drake Matthews just don’t see that there is no way that they can possibly win. Not only because they are outnumbered and the fact that their rebel group is so pathetically undersupplied that it’s actually kind of sad…but because they don’t know that they are both doomed to failure because I hold the ultimate bargaining chip. It was Titan’s idea really…but I played my part. Let’s just say that there might be another death in the Matthews family should my dear brother decide to cross the border into The Insurgency Sector…

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He came for us. We knew they would send someone to try and kill us…but we thought it would be her, not him.

A lone figure sits in an alleyway to the side of a crumbling and dilapidated building. The figure has wrapped numerous black and gray rags around itself to try and ward off the biting cold of the winter night.

We thought she would have more drive…more determination than to let him take her kill. She took everything from us, why wouldn’t she also try to take our life? But that must mean…

The figure stands up slowly and smiles wickedly. You can only see his teeth through the darkness. The sky is devoid of stars and there is no moon shining down. The only light comes from a random street light at the end of the alleyway.

If he came for us…then she must have hunted down the tycoon. She must’ve led her team to the tycoon’s mansion and killed him. But there was no way she could have killed the tycoon. The tycoon was too smart to be killed by her…just like we were too smart to be killed by him and his team.

The figure begins to walk towards the light. The figure’s face is still cloaked in darkness as he whispers into the dark

I must find the tycoon…it is time for us to work together with him…it is time for him and her to die…

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Sector 5 Delta (Cambridge, Massachusetts)
Just outside the Insurgency Sector
December 2038

I sit bolt upright in my bed, breathing heavily. My eyes dart around the inside of my make-shift command tent, which also doubled as my own private quarters. There was no one in my tent, considering that all my generals knew better than to attempt to wake me up while I was sleeping. Sleep was a rare commodity these days so if we got the chance, every single member of the army took full advantage of it.

I throw the covers off of me and step out of bed. All around the inside of the command tent were charts and maps and diagrams. On the far wall of the tent, pictures of key members of The Insurgency are pinned in a flow chart-type fashion. I smirk, I could easily look and see the top five most important members of The Insurgency…but, for some reason, I was having a hell of a time finding my pants.

I eventually spot my pants and quickly put them on. I stick my head outside the tent partially in an attempt to gage the weather. I have no idea why I felt the need to stick my head out of the tent…I knew damn well ahead of time what the weather was going to be. It was winter time in New England…the weather was always the same…balls shrinking cold. I quickly put on a t-shirt and a long sleeve shirt. I throw a sweatshirt on as well and then put my coat on. I put my combat boots on and lace them up tightly before walking out of my command tent. As I walk to the top of a small hill by my command tent, I shake my head as I remember the dream.

I had been having these dreams off and on for the past three years. At first I was deeply confused and scared. I didn’t know why I was having these dreams and what they could possibly signify. But, as the dreams continued and I began to have them more frequently, I slowly began to understand what they meant. I knew who the man in the dark was…I knew where he was…I just didn’t know why or how it was even possible for me to be having these dreams. I knew the man in my dreams was dead…or at least, I was told he was dead. It would make sense if he were dead because then I could chalk up the dreams to some sort of guilt or sadness over the death of the man in the darkness. I don’t know why I would be sad or feel guilty about the man’s death…I fucking hated him with every bone in my body…and the fact that he was dead didn’t do anything to change that hatred.

I take a deep breath, exhaling slowly. A smile creeps across my face as I see my breath turn into steam in the cold winter’s air. I had led my group across the most barren and godforsaken parts of this country and through the most brutally hot and dry weather. Some of the men had complained to Drake and I that they were cold and that they hated the snow and the bitter, biting New England winter wind. I had listened to their complaints and offered a number of suggestions…but, to me, there was no other place I would rather be than in New England during the winter. Chicago had been a nice place to live for a while and the weather had been a lot like New England’s weather…but it just wasn’t the same. I suddenly hear the crunching sound of footsteps falling on the snow approaching.

Gavin Price
How are the men, Drake my friend?

A tall man with long dirty blonde hair pulled into a ponytail walks up and stands beside me. He is wearing black combat boots and several sweatshirts over a dirty brown jacket. A woolen cap covers his head and two bandoliers of bullets are strapped across his chest and a large chain gun is strapped to his back.

Drake Matthews
Cold and getting antsy. We have been camped out here for a week now Gav…when are we going to put our plan into motion?

Drake Matthews was my right hand man. He was a brilliant military strategist and was as sharp witted and smart as my Uncle Chuck. I remember briefly the thin and nerdy Drake Matthews that I had known as a child growing up. The Drake Matthews that now stood beside me was the polar opposite of his childhood self

Gavin Price
Soon…our scouts have told me that Eve is massing her forces along the Fort Point Channel. She fully expects us to cross into Boston via the bridge…

A smirk slowly appears on Drake’s face. That was one of the best things about Drake…he had the uncanny ability to instantly pick up on the little things a person said and immediately work out all the angles. Drake was a lot like his brother Clay in that sense. Clay…if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t even be alive right now.

Drake Matthews
But we’re not going to cross the bridge are we?

I chuckle softly as I stare across the Ford Point Channel. I had been reading an old history textbook earlier in the week when this idea had suddenly hit me. My father had always preached to me the importance of understanding and studying history. He always said that history had a funny way of repeating itself. In order to invade The Insurgency Sector, I was going to take a page from American History by pulling off a move that had been thought up by America’s first President George Washington

Gavin Price
Nope…we’re going to cross the channel using small landing craft. The plan is to quickly and quietly cross the river and then split the army in half. One half of the army is going to circle around the lower part of the city and begin marching towards Eve’s command building, while the other half of the army will cross the channel and circle around to the north before marching southwards towards Eve’s command building

Drake smirks and nods his head

Drake Matthews
The Pincer movement…nice

My smile widens, like I said earlier…Drake was one of the sharpest knives in the drawer as it were. I take one last look at the city, squinting my eyes in an attempt to try and see the city like I had when I was young. I had grown up in this city and thought that I would have my first family practice there. I thought that the city of Boston would be my home…instead; it was destined to be the place where I would bring The Insurgency to the end by killing the monster known as Eve…who was once my sister.

Eve…her name made me physically sick. At one point, she had been my sister…she had been Raylyn. But all of that changed when I began to hear rumors swirling that something about The Insurgency’s leader just wasn’t…right. I heard rumors that she had slaughtered her entire upper echelon of commanders simply because they hinted that The Insurgency should surrender to the government. I heard rumors that she killed and skinned her personal assistant just because she didn’t want to make it seem like she cared about the life of another human being. I heard all of these rumors and instantly knew exactly what was wrong with Raylyn…

She was truly following in the footsteps of our father.

I was constantly paranoid about turning into a raging schizophrenic like my father. Part of the reason why I wanted to become a doctor was because I wanted to learn how to diagnose and handle the symptoms should they begin to manifest themselves in me. Luckily, I found myself beginning to become more and more like my mother. I was paranoid yeah…but at least I wasn’t hearing voices whispering to me from the darkness…

Drake and I walk back towards my command tent, which is full of the hustling and bustling of activity. Drake and I walk into the command tent and all of the generals immediately stop what they are doing and salute me. I immediately shake my hand and wave their salutes off

Gavin Price
You guys know you don’t have to salute me

That was one major difference between my sister, my father and I…I didn’t NEED people to follow me and constantly tell me how good I am and what a great leader I was. If people wanted to follow me and if people agreed with the causes I was fighting for and if they wanted to join me…awesome. But I wasn’t like Eve and The Lord…I didn’t physically crave the attention and admiration of the masses. Drake rolls his eyes

Drake Matthews
You know, sometimes I swear you don’t actually want to lead this army

I shrug as Drake and I slowly navigate our way through the crowded interior of the command tent

Gavin Price
If you want to try your hand in toppling both Matthews Enterprises and The Insurgency be my guest

Drake flips me off

Drake Mathews
No thanks

Drake and I walk over to a group of four generals who are crowded around the large wall map. The large wall map shows the city of Boston and all the old subway stops and railways that once were vibrant and humming, shuttling people to and from Boston. The subways and railways had fallen silent during The Insurgency Civil War though and now lay in ruins.

General Smith
Are we sure this will work?

Gavin Price
You goddamn right this will work

The four generals quickly turn around and look at me. General Smith has a nervous look on his face…probably because he thought that, by criticizing my plan, he was criticizing me

General Steve Smith
General Price…i..we…

I laugh and smile disarmingly

Gavin Price
Don’t worry Steve…and please, call me Gavin

Steve Smith nods his head and swallows nervously

Steve Smith
Ok…Gavin…sir

I nod my head and lean past Steve in an attempt to see what Steve had been pointing at earlier

Gavin Price
What’s the problem you see Steve?

Steve Smith turns around slowly and points at one of the random subway tunnels

Steve Smith
Um…isn’t it going to be a bit of a problem moving heavy artillery through this subway tunnel? Wouldn’t it be easier if, instead of using dynamite to remove the rubble heaps blocking off the southern mid-town entrance to the orange line, we just have 3 people use Fire Boosters to…

The command tent falls deathly quite at the mention of the word “booster.” I feel an annoyed look slowly begin to appear on my face. Boosters…I hated them with every fiber of my being. When ME’s scientists drew up the first ever chemical diagram of a human enhancing booster, they set out to try and help people through medicine. They hoped to fire proof people’s skin so the person could survive being caught in a burning building, they hoped to stop people from freezing to death in poor cold countries. But then…Zack Matthews took over. Zack promised the military that he could create for them a perfect super soldier…a soldier that could shoot fire and ice at the same time. Zack promised the government that this super soldier would have no fear…

Enter Chuck Matthew’s patented fear drug.

Zack took the basic chemical structure of the Boosters and modified it to become 100 times more addictive…and he combined it with the basic chemical layout as Chuck’s fear drug. Zack’s rationale for doing so? “If a super soldier constantly faces his worst fear, then he will never be scared of anything again.” At least, that’s what he told Congress when the users of this new age of Boosters began to start seeing their dead relatives and scream bloody murder every single night. The dumbass didn’t even realize that the side effects of the boosters included acute paranoia, a severe degeneration of the user’s mental well-being and a drastic shortening of the user’s life expectancy. Boosters might be able to temporarily grant the user superhuman power…but the overall result as a short life filled with insanity…

I narrow my gaze as I stare at Steve Smith. Steve was a semi-new addition to the rebel cause…but he should know better…and he knew it. Steve immediately begins stammering out apologies as fast as his brain can tell his mouth to move

Steve Smith
Imsorryididn’tmeantosuggestthatweuseboosters! Ithinkthatyou’reideaisbetterandidon’tknowshitandi’msosorry

I take a deep breath, releasing it slowly in an attempt to calm my nerves. When Drake and I had banned together to form this rebel army we had both agreed that rule #1 should be pretty obvious: Boosters were banned.

Gavin Price
Don’t let me hear you ever say that word or suggest it as a possible alternative for this army ever again…DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!

Steve franticly nods his head. I stare at him coldly for a few more moments before turning and looking out over the generals that were gathered inside the command tent

Gavin Price
The plan that Drake and I have presented to you all is perfect! It is simply and elegant enough that it doesn’t need or require the use of those fucking infernal boosters! I am not telling you this in an attempt to try and toot my own horn….i am not telling you in an attempt to make each and every one of you believe that I am perfect and without flaw…I am telling you this because it is true. I am telling you this because the plan has been analyzed by both Drake Matthews and myself and neither of us can find a single fault in it.

You generals have had this plan sitting before you since we first arrived in this sector. Each of you has had a chance to make suggestions and a chance to voice any concerns or alterations that would make the plan better…and none of you has said anything besides General Smith over here…and since his idea involved using something that would not only take years off of each and every soldiers life, but a chemical that would drive each and every man here into the deepest and darkest corners of his own mind…I am inclined to ignore General Smith’s suggestion…

I couldn’t even believe that General Smith would even make such a dumb fucking suggestion. How dare that insolent little shit even make a suggestion that involves using fucking boosters. I could feel the anger welling up inside of me…the hatred boiling deep within my soul as I turn and stare down at the cowering form of General Smith. I could kill him for even suggesting such a thing…I could string his body up by his ankles and watch the blood rush out of his head and seep out of his mouth until he suffocated on his own fluids…I could…all of a sudden, I feel a hand on my right shoulder and a familiar voice

Drake Matthews
Your eyes are turning Gavin…

I suddenly feel all the rage dissipate and bury itself deep down inside of me until such a time as I can properly release it through exercise and writing. None of the generals…hell, not a single person on God’s green Earth, knew I was the son of Corey Casey…except Drake, Eve and Zack Matthews. Unlike my sister, my eyes were brown and usually stayed that way. But, when I was enraged and felt myself losing control of my anger, my eyes would begin to drain of all their color until they were as white and bloodshot as my father’s eyes. When we our army had begun to grow and turn into a real movement, I had made Drake promise to tell me when I was flying off the deep end and my eyes began to turn white and bloodshot.

I take several deep breaths and nod my head at Drake before turning my attention back to the gathered generals

Gavin Price
Gentlemen…tomorrow we strike down The Insurgency. Tomorrow we strike a blow against the hypocrisy and turmoil that has dam near destroyed our world for far too long. Tomorrow we will storm The Insurgency Sector and we will liberate the trapped and terrified people who long for a world that isn’t dictated by the whims of a psychotic bitch.

The gathered generals all nod their heads silently as I stare out over their upturned faces

Gavin Price
Tomorrow…we strike a blow for liberty

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A hooded and robbed figure sits at a computer. The light from the screen is the only light visible, casting the rest of the room in an eerie shadow.

We didn’t want to kill them…they got in our way…

A man and a woman lie dead on the floor. The woman is missing an arm and a leg while the man has his throat slashed. Blood slowly drains from the open gash across the man’s throat and begins to pool on the floor.

We tried to make it look like a murder suicide…but the rush…the feeling of the hunt and then the kill…it all felt too good…too good. It’s been too long since we’ve hunted…too long since we’ve felt the rush of the kill…

The figure looks over his shoulder at the two dead bodies on the floor. The figures face is covered by a gas mask with red eye lenses, hiding the figures face completely. The figure chuckles softly before turning his attention back to the computer. One can hear the figure typing away at the keyboard of the computer and, every so often, you can hear the figure breathe in.

Just a few more keystrokes and we will be in. We will find where they buried the tycoon and we will bring him back from beyond the grave…like we did for our follower years and years ago…

The screen of the computer is filled with random lines of computer code which grow as the figure continues to type away at the keyboard. Suddenly, the figure let’s out an inhuman yell of jubilation as a message appears on the screen:

Access Granted

We are in! We will find him! We will raise him from the dead!

Some meaningless names and dates and script appear on the computer screen as the figure begins to sift through the data files. Suddenly, the figure stops typing and a video appears on the computer screen. The video shows Raylyn Casey standing at the bow of a boat next to a large chunk of ice…

Raylyn Casey
Zack Matthews! Corporate monsters across the world! I hope, no I beg, that you pay attention to what we do here today. I hope that you watch on as a man that was once a tycoon in your world, a man that was once the most powerful human being on earth, is cast into the watery darkness from whence life once came. When I was young, my father told me that should he fall in combat and die…that I was to promise to make sure that his hated enemy Chuck Matthews soon joined him in the afterlife.

I HAVE FULFILLED MY PROMISE FATHER!

The figure pauses the video as the ice chunk falls into the cold waters of Boston Harbor. The figure stands up and takes a step back from the computer. The figure leans down and grabs a large can of gasoline. The figure unscrews the top of the can and slowly turns and douses the computer in gasoline. The figure then begins walking towards the front door, making sure to douse everything around him in gasoline

We will allow this house to be consumed in the Purifying light. We have already helped the members of this home attain true Purity…now we must PURIFY their home…

The figure stops at the front door and throws the gasoline can back across the house. The figure reaches into his pocket and removes a book of matches. The figure lights a match and then uses the fire from that match to light the entire book of matches on fire. The figure then drops the now flaming book of matches onto the floor, causing the flames to begin to rapidly consume the gasoline trail. The figure shuts the front door of the house as the entire house is soon engulfed in flames…

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+The Match+
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+Return to Demolition Day+
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Corey Casey [vs.] Brandon Macdonald II…

$$$$$ SO MUCH KASH MONEY $$$$$$

Oh wait…no it’s not. We’ve been here, we’ve seen this, we’ve done this all before. IWF is barely two months old AND WE’RE ALREADY DOING REPETES?! Seriously…I thought this is the kind of shit we were trying to avoid here. I was so sure that seeing the same two or three guys in the main event week in and week out was one of the biggest factors for using breaking away from the red mohawked douche and creating this wonderful paradise. If anything, Brandon Macdonald should’ve moved to the back of the goddamn line and I should be facing someone more worth my time that has never had a title shot in any big federation.

Alright fine, if I have to beat down on Brandon Macdonald yet again…so be it. I mean, the guy is a walking cue ball who just gets into the ring and instantly puts everyone to sleep. The guy can’t wrestle his way out of a fucking paper bag. He is one hell of an MMA technician…but since has that been worth a rat’s ass in any other place other than the abortion known as Fight The World?

” Wwwwwooooo Brandon some kind of Brazilian necktie cage fighter move!”

You know who else do cage “fighter” moves…strippers. Well, they aren’t really cage fighters…they’re more like cage dancers…but you get my point right?

Brandon, you said that there is never going to be a clear winner in a match between you and i? Can I ask you something…are you on drugs? Have you been so high that you clearly can not comprehend the fact that I beat you like a red headed step child at Demolition Day and became the first, the greatest, the ONLY IWF Champion in the short history of this company? That’s what’s hilarious about all of this…the mere fact that the name “Corey Casey” will be immortalized for all time as the first IWF Champion and the Co-Founder of this company. When IWF rises up and into the main event and takes over the world and there is a “History of IWF” DVD produced…they will dedicate an entire chapter to “Destiny’s Hand Picked Champion” Corey Casey.

What will they say about you Brandon? That you joined up with a bunch of British malcontents and you stood by and watched a bunch of people get jumped? That you lost two major matches in two consecutive Pay Per Views? IWF will remember you as the man who was steam rolled by the Greatest IWF Champion of all time…IWF’s history will remember the night that your precious 6 month one on one victory streak was brought to a crashing end by the hand-picked champion of Fate herself.

Brandon…I don’t listen to the ignorant and jealous idiots who run their mouths in the back. I don’t listen to the seemingly endless stream of talking heads who all say that I am going to win and that they all believe that we will steal the show at Bloody Sunday. I don’t care what the mindless, hypocritical, unwashed masses have to say about who will win. All I care about is the solid fact that looms over this match…the promised light at the end of the tunnel for me and the IWF Championship…the fact that I will walk in IWF Champion and the fact that I will walk out IWF Champion.

You beat me last week Brandon…good for you. Do you want a cookie or something? You pinned a husk of a man known as Chris Matthews who is some sort of a sad shadow of the champion he once was in the ashes. Chris has become almost as big a joke as your career in recent weeks Brandon. But keep blowing that horn and letting the world know that you beat Corey Casey…in a tag match…where you pinned Chris Matthews…BUT COREY CASEY WAS INVOLVED! HE WAS THERE!

Pathetic

What is this Dueling Thieves nonsense? I mean, if you want me to hit some sort of sensationalist move that will make the fat kid in section 6 row G seat 114 struggle to jump out of his seat but he can’t cause his fat rolls spill over the side of the seat…I will simply hold up a Churro and say “COME GET IT TUBBY! IT’S FREE!” I know that’s not really a move…but the point is, I can do this fucking stupid flipping piledriver as easy as giving away a Churro. I think I proved that claim when I drove the skull of that pathetic fucking loser Ian Blackwing into a steel chair.

Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, this Dueling Thieves thing might not be such a bad idea. It will give me a chance to humiliate you in a whole new way. I mean, what could possibly be more embarrassing for you Brandon then when I force your losing streak in one on one matches to continue when I make you tap your dreams of being IWF Champion away and you fail for the second time in a month to becoming IWF Champion?

Bloody Sunday will the longest night of your pathetic life Brandon. I will prove to the word what a failure that you truly are. I will walk down the ramp at Bloody Sunday and I will step into the ring and prove to the world that my Destiny is to rule the IWF roost until the sun falls from the sky and my bones turn to dust in the wind. Long story short Brandon: Fate has chosen me to be champion, destiny has written my endless championship reign into her book. And if there is one thing that you should have learned by now…

It’s that you can’t
Stop
DESTINY!