Archive for September, 2006

The Newest Era

My friends, I have recovered. The Infection has been purged from my body by the apostle. I am now entirely convinced that it was fate that brought her to me, but that is another issue. I have come here to declare the beginning of new era in The Union. What happened to me and what Kakunaman did for The Union will never be forgotten, and in light of these events, changes must be made.
Firstly, I declare that henceforth, Kakunaman will be a member of The Union. His title shall be "Champion of The Union". As a living member of The Union, Kakunaman will from now on have full access to this space whenever he wishes.
There is a place about 10 miles from this place where the Screwup visited shortly before his death. I accidently stumbled across this place just after I had been cleansed, and I uncovered many artifacts from the life of the Screwup. I realised the pain that the Screwup must have been going through at this time, hiding the fact that he was Infected, yet struggling forward to try to see the light at the end of the tunnel. And he did see lights. 27 of them to be exact. 27 lights hanging from the ceiling. I looked upon these lights, and truely I tell you that they were one of the most beautiful sights I have seen in my life. This is where I would like to be buried when my time comes. Under the 27 lights.
Finally, I declare August 15th to be a solemn holiday, as this was the day I became infected. As well, I declare September 19th to be a jubilant holiday, as it was the day when the source was wiped off the face of the earth forever.
The fourth era of The Union officially begins September 19th, at 5:12 pm. Let it be known.

The Battle on Wonder Hill

“Let’s go…” says a figure rising from the shadows. The figure is Kakunaman. He has reached the summit of Wonder Mountain with one purpose in mind: To find and kill the one called the source. Armed with only his blade, a rope, and his bloodlust, he enters the trapdoor at the peak of Wonder Mountain and descends into the lair of the source. Inside is a single trail, presumably leading to the room where the source lies. This trail has not been traversed by any human in twenty years, and the smell of decay grows stronger with each passing day. As Kakunaman follows the trail forward, he thinks about what is at stake on this night: His own life, s3c0ndh4nd’s life, the life of The Union… Tonight, failure is unacceptable, and Kakunaman knows this full well. Suddenly, a door closes behind Kakunaman, and he hears an old familiar voice:


“Ah… Kakunaman, my old enemy. And what brings you to my humble abode?”


“You know full well.” comes Kakunaman’s reply. "s3c0ndh4nd has become infected. He tried to kill himself yesterday. Would this be your doing?”


“I can assure you that I have no idea what you’re talking about…”


“Cut the crap.” replies Kakunaman dryly. “We both know that you are responsible for s3c0ndh4nd’s condition. The question is, how am I going to make you pay for it?”


“Now now, there’s really no need for violence. We’re both capable of settling this in a non-violent manner like adults, aren’t we? Come sit down and we’ll fix this little issue.”


Kakunaman ignores the source and continues on:


“I think I’ll start by cutting off each of your fingers, one by one, and forcing you to lick the blood off them. Does that sound good to you?”


“I see no need for such hostilities, Kakunaman. I’m just trying to survive, after all, and sometimes in order to ensure my own survival, other people must sometimes be sacrificed. You, of all people, should be able to understand that.”


“And you, of all people, should understand that I am not a person you should fuck with if you value your life.”


“You always did think that violence was the only way of settling disputes. Is there no other option? Do you truly wish to fight me?”


“I see no other way.”


“Then fight to the death we shall. But we shall do no battle here. It is crowded here, and besides, it smells bad. I know of a more suitable location for combat. Follow me.”


Without saying a word, Kakunaman follows the source out of Wonder Mountain to a nearby location, Wonder Hill. Unlike Wonder Mountain, Wonder Hill is completely wide open. The only distinguishing feature of Wonder Hill is the large flagpole in the middle, which proudly bears this flag of its home nation. The two combatants face each other on opposite sides of the hill in silence. The source is the first to speak.


“Kakunaman, would you like to know what is so special about this spot?”


“Not really, no.” comes the dry reply.


“This was the spot where I first infected s3c0ndh4nd.” says the source with a slight smirk. “That was a good night.”


“Don’t fuck with me!” shouts Kakunaman back.


“You wanna know something else, Kakunaman? I personally infected the Screwup. I am not his creation, in fact, it was me who lead him to his ultimate demise. I even watched him kill himself.” The source laughs. “He was so valiant at the end. Pathetic. My fun was a bit spoiled when that girl showed up, but that was still a great day for myself.”


“YOU SON OF A-” Kakunaman cut himself off. “Wait, you saw the apostle? What does that have to do with anything?”


 The source ignored Kakunaman, and continued on.


“You want to know one more thing? You’ll like this one… You remember your great leader Kroc? Of course you do. What do you know of how she disappeared? She was taken by admins right? Let me tell you something… the admin that took her… that faceless, nameless being that you’ve always wanted to kill… Come closer, let me tell you.”


Kakunaman moves closer to the source cautiously, prepared to draw his sword at a moments notice.


“It was me.” whispers the source into Kakunaman’s ear. “I killed Kroc.”


The outburst that followed would have woken up anyone within 10 miles, if anyone had been there.




“She begged for mercy at the end, you know” This was a lie, but the source was enjoying Kakunaman’s reaction so much that he couldn’t resist adding in a little lie, just to piss him off more. “I almost felt bad for killing her then. Almost.”  


“LIAR!! Kroc would NEVER beg for mercy, especially at the hands of someone like you!”


“Believe what you will. But of course… now that you know all this, I can’t let you leave this hill alive.” The source finally draws his sword. “I hope you got a very good look at the sunset this evening, because you will never again see the light of day. If you wish, after I kill you, I will bury your remains right next to Kroc.” The source smiles.


“THAT’S ENOUGH! SHUT THE FUCK UP! For three years now, you’ve been a constant source of pain to me and all my comrades. That all ends tonight. For myself, for the Screwup, for s3c0ndh4nd, for Kroc, and for everyone else who you have brought pain to, I will slaughter you tonight. I will spill your blood all over this God-forsaken hill. Now then, no more words. We fight now. Prepare to meet the icy cold grip of the Pale!”


And with those words, silence yet again consumes the hill. The two warriors stare at each other, swords at the ready. Kakunaman is the first to move. He takes a downwards slash at the source, which is easily blocked. Despite the situation, Kakunaman can’t help but smile at the first sound of metal hitting metal. This is the first time he’s had to fight in two years, after all, and he can’t help but be reminded of old times by this sound. But the nostalgia only lasts a second, and Kakunaman refocuses on the task at hand.


The two adversaries enter full-blown combat, with swords flying in every possible direction. The battle is, for the most part, a stalemate, with neither combatant being able to land any significant blows. After nearly 3 minutes, the source’s blade finally makes contact with Kakunaman’s skin, inflicting a minor wound on his left shoulder.


“Fuck… looks like it’s time to switch tactics” thinks Kakunaman. Kakunaman rotates his grip on his blade 90 degrees, so that the blunt end is now facing his target. The source quickly takes a swing at Kakunaman’s head. Instead of blocking however, Kakunaman decides to duck under the swinging blade. Then, with the blunt side of his sword, he swings low at the source’s knee. The source, who was slightly thrown off by Kakunaman’s decision to duck his strike, is unable to block the blow to his knee, and the blade makes perfect contact. The sound of cracking bone is heard, and the source drops down onto one knee. Without hesitating, Kakunaman follows this blow up with another one, this time to the side of the source’s head. The blade makes contact with the source’s temple, sending a shock to his nervous system. The impact is not enough to kill the source, but it is enough to cause him to lose consciousness. Kakunaman lets out a sigh of relief, and then proceeds to disarm the unconscious body and tie it to the flagpole in the centre of hill. “And now we wait…” Kakunaman sits down and waits for the source to regain consciousness, so that he can finish the job he came here to do.




Exactly 93 minutes later, the source finally begins to regain consciousness. At first he is dazed, but he quickly comes to his senses when he realizes that he is bound to the flagpole and that his weapons are gone.


“Good morning, did you enjoy your sleep?” Kakunaman moves closer to where the source is tied up.


“What the hell is this?!”


“It would appear that you are unarmed, bound to a pole, and have a sword pointing at your throat. The question you should be asking me is “How long do I have to live?” Go on, ask me.”


“What? No fucking way!” The source does not want to give Kakunaman the satisfaction of hearing those words from him.


“It’s generally not wise to argue with someone who’s capable of ending your life in an instant. Ask me.”


With clear hatred in his voice, the source asks “How long do I have to live?”


“You will live through this night, and the next night, and the next, and so on until you succumb to natural forces. I am merciful, provided you can make me happy. Ask me how you can make me happy.”


“How can I make you happy?” The source spits on the ground near Kakunaman’s feet. Kakunaman takes no notice of this and continues on.


“Answer a few questions for me, and I shall let you live. Fair deal?”


“And what would those questions be, Kakunaman?”


“First tell me what it is you fight for. Everyone has a purpose when they do evil things. I had one. What’s yours.”


“Survival, of course.” The source gives Kakunaman a long, steady stare. “You should know this by now. I am the one who feeds off of the pain I cause others. Without corruption, I do not live. Simple as that. Not that I don’t also get pleasure out of what I do though.”


“And why has The Union been such a target for you in recent years? Couldn’t you just prey on other random people? Why did you attack both the Screwup and s3c0ndh4nd?”


“Because I knew that she was coming…”




The source breathes deeply.


“The apostle. I couldn’t let her get too close to the Screwup or s3c0ndh4nd.”


“And why was that?”


“Fool… do you not see? Her and a member of the Union combined would be too great a force for me to contend with. I would be destroyed.”


“I don’t understand…”


“Kakunaman… I am the manifestation of the darkness in the hearts of men. In this same way, the apostle is the manifestation of the light inside. The result that occurs when I attempt to destroy her is a stalemate. We are unable to lay a hand on each other. But if she were to gain the help of s3c0ndh4nd, I would be unable to touch him either, and I would be defeated. I had to infect s3c0ndh4nd; it was a matter of my survival.”


Kakunaman has a sad look on his face.

”One more thing before I let you go.”


“And what would that be?”


“Tell me how Kroc died… I want to know what really happened…”


“Kroc… your leader… In all my years I don’t think I have seen a more honourable woman. Not once did she look upon me with fear. She looked me in the eye and told me to do what I wanted with her, as long as I would not harm you. She truly was a great person… I can see why you looked up to her.”


Kakunaman’s eyes are closed in deep thought. Wonder Hill is silent for a minute. Then Kakunaman stands and up and walks towards where the source is tied up. He draws his blade slowly. Instead of cutting the source free, however, Kakunaman takes a full swing and severs the source’s left leg. The blood instantly began gushing out.


“FUCK!” screams the source in agony. “WHAT THE FUCK THAT THAT FOR?”


“That,” says Kakunaman with a slight smile on his face, “was for lying to me earlier about how Kroc died.”


Kakunaman knows he must work quickly now; the source will be dead from the blood loss within minutes.


“I thought I’d be free to go!!”


“Did you honestly believe that after you’ve killed or attempted to kill so many of my comrades, I would have the compassion to let you live? Just as you did not spare any of them, I will not spare you. I am NOT a merciful man, you see.”


“But you said-“


Kakunaman cuts the source off.


“You’re not the only one who can lie either, it seems.” says Kakunaman with a smirk. “I guess me and you really aren’t so different after all.”


And with that, Kakunaman swings his blade again, this time severing the source’s right leg. Kakunaman ignores the agonized yells and groans of his victim, and continues on. 


“That was for everyone on earth, thousands of people who I don’t even know, who have been infected by you. May their souls never again become tainted.”


Wasting no time, Kakunaman takes his blade and swings it at the source’s left arm. This time the blade does not make a clean cut, so Kakunaman takes another swing. This time the bloody limb is fully detached from the now nearly unconscious source.


“That was for the Screwup, who you lead to death in a slow and painful manner. Tonight, I will do the same to you.”


The next strike comes, tearing the sources right arm from his body. 


“That was for s3c0ndh4nd, my comrade who you attempted to strike down in the same way you struck down the Screwup.


Kakunaman looks down at the unconscious bleeding basketcase called the source, and points his blade at his throat.


“And this,” says Kakunaman with a strong seriousness in his voice. “This is for Kroc, my fallen leader who you took from me without cause. Never again will such a brilliant mind exist in this world, and never again will someone be as much of a friend to me as she was. I will watch your soul descend into the fiery depths of hell for what you have done. Goodbye, my enemy.”



As Kakunaman’s blade descends upon the source one final time, the bleeding mass opens its eyes. For the first and final time in its life, the look on the source’s face is one of genuine fear. A second later, it is over.



 A head rolls across the floor silently and blood steadily runs from various limbs that are scattered around the hill. Kakunaman moves towards the torso of the source’s corpse. Without warning, he begins stomping and kicking the body. A constant crunching sound is heard from the breaking of bones. Satisfied that every rib is broken, Kakunaman leaves the body alone. He picks up the head of the source. Examining the look of fear that is permanently etched onto the face, he then shoves the head straight into a pool of blood that has collected near the bottom of the hill, so that the entire face in covered in blood.


“I told you I’d force you lick up your own blood. This is a little different from my original idea, but I like this one a lot more.”


Finally, satisfied with the amount of havoc he has wreaked on the carcass, Kakunaman picks up the bloody head of the source as a trophy, and heads for home, leaving the rest of his former enemy to be devoured by the beasts of the night.

Preparations for Battle

Alright. It is time.
There is a fenced-in area in a tourist trap. Within the boundaries of the fence, there is are many mechanical devices used for the torture of young children. There is a swamp here as well, where opportunities have been missed. The smell of decay fills the area. Beyond the swamp there lies a bridge, beneath which hundreds of dying fish struggle upstream for freedom from the polluted water. Beyond this, there is a valley, where the temperature is always at least 5 degrees cooler than outside the valley.
Then we reach a mountain. It’s been refered to as "Wonder Mountain" in the past, but few know that it is anything but wonderous. No one has attempted to climb the mountain in years, and yet that is what I must do now, for it is within this mountain that the source lies. It must be slayed tonight. Along with me, I have brought only one companion.
Ahh… my blade. I never thought that I would need to pull you from your sheeth, but alas, I am in need of your services again tonight. It is tonight that we will tear away the life of the source. By the end of tonight, we will leave its vessle in a bloody pulp on the floor. We will not rest until the black, corrupted soul of the source has fled from the earth. Come… It is time to finally defeat our old enemy. I ask that you grant me your strength for one last time.