Zach Van Owen vs Incubus

Two figures, dressed in black. They enter the square from opposite directions. Casually place their hands on the bases of the statues as they go. They exit, not so much as glancing at one another.

Skip ahead. Three explosions, simultaneous, acting as one. In a matter of seconds the three statues are reduced to rubble.

Back. The two figures. Try to read their body language, the direction they came from, their clothing. Male, female, young, old. Something. Anything.

Nothing.

OSA Senior Case Officer James Gelli leaned back in his chair, let out an exasperated sigh. The terrorist attack at the Great Square remained unsolved. Somehow, in a city filled with surveillance beyond surveillance - every street, every transaction, every conversation open to scrutiny at the hands of the Operational Security Agency - somehow, despite all this, the attackers remained at large. Tiny blind spots on the map became black holes into which the terrorists disappeared, never to be seen again.

He minimised the video footage, navigated through OSA’s internal networks, sorting through the labyrinth of the agency’s intelligence files. Finally he got to his destination - the high security area known as the Rogue’s Gallery.

Gelli felt his stomach turn as the screen filled with faces of enemies of the state. First, the Children - the loose-knit movement of dissidents located within Pierreia itself, backed by supporters around the world. Their faces looked out to him from the preview screen, each of them telling a story.

The Chaote. The Apostate. The Professor. The Sons of Thunder.

Traitors and terrorists all, a pestilence to be eradicated like so many vermin, lest they be left free to infest the whole land.

Gelli had been born into the Institute, descended from those who had helped the Founder in the earliest days - practically Institute royalty. From an early age he had been captivated by the Operational Security Agency - the shadowy, conspiratorial organisation that served as the iron fist within the velvet glove of the Institute’s public image. Founded by disgraced intelligence agents recruited from around the world, bolstered by the Institute’s own fanatical grassroots members, OSA acted to neutralise any and all opposition to the SSRI and its teachings before such opposition was given even the hint of public attention. Judges found their brake cables cut, politicians saw their sex lives exposed for public attention, journalists pressured to rewrite history under threats to their friends and family.

When the Spirit Science Research Institute launched its seizure of power in Pierreia, then-Agent Gelli had volunteered to be transferred to the new state. Promoted to the rank of Senior Case Officer, he had overseen the integration of the existing state apparatus of Pierreia, the former Zeboim, with that of the Institute. The process had been a difficult one, and even now, the country’s prisons were filled with renegades who were loyal to the old order, conspiring with outside forces to thwart the Institute’s plans.

Some of them had betrayed their old comrades in a heartbeat; others remained stubborn, still convinced they could overthrow the state and restore what had gone before. The former acted as jailers for the latter, imprisoning and torturing their former friends and allies. As it should be.

He navigated away from the Children, their faces fading from the screen. It was no use; the figures in black could have been any of them or none of them. For now at least the matter would have to wait. Human intelligence would fill in the gaps. Sooner or later the perpetrators would be brought to justice.

In the meantime he had other matters to attend to. He continued to scroll through the rogue’s gallery, arriving at an area marked CARNAGE. A fresh set of faces appeared, staring out at him from the screen.

Zach. Dorian. Chloe. Jimmy. Mia. The so-called Forsaken.

Names, codenames, faces, histories. Every last tiny detail of a person's life, their hopes and dislikes, triumphs and tragedies, phobias and fetishes laid out in mundane detail. All the better to control those who would do the Institute harm.

"If you wish to truly control a man, do not threaten him. Threaten that which he holds most dear." So said the Founder, Clyde Pierre. People can withstand immense cruelties, torture, psychological torment, physical stresses beyond endurance - all these things can be overcome for the person with enough strength of character and conviction.

Yet make that same person responsible for the suffering of others - of a friend or loved one - and the same strength of character melts away like flesh from a bone. A man might withstand the most hideous torture in defence of his values and principles. Make him watch the suffering of his mother or wife, sibling or child, and he will be only too eager to confess.

The door opened. Incubus and Succubus entered the room without knocking; such formalities were unnecessary for the new aristocracy of Pierreia.

Incubus spoke sharply.

"Updates? Have the terrorists responsible for the most recent attack been brought to justice?"

Gelli shook his head. "Not yet. We carried out a series of raids on the usual suspects, stepped up patrols of Guardsmen around the city.

"Interrogations are still ongoing. Records being checked, surveillance footage sorted through. We will find them. We always do."

"Of course." Incubus paused. "Interrogations, you say?"

Gelli nodded. "I was going to head to the Epicentre shortly to catch up on the latest results."

"We will accompany you," said Succubus. Incubus nodded in agreement.

Gelli tapped his display screen a few times. The records disappeared from view. In a few moments there came a knock at the door. A huge man appeared, his head bowed, face covered in a featureless white mask. He was clad in the plain white robes of a Penitent, made to wait on others as penance for some crime against the Institute.

Gelli, Incubus and Succubus followed the Penitent to the lifts. They entered one and made their way down - down through the enormous tower that served as OSA's global nerve centre. Other locales - London, Los Angeles, Montreal - were home to regional headquarters of one sort or another, most often disguised inside the businesses the Institute had established around the world for that very purpose. But since the seizure of power, all things to do with the Institute ran through Pierreia.

Which meant that this building was now one of the most important places in the world.

The tower was enormous. Located in the north east of the city, it was ninety nine stories high, with another twelve stories beneath - interrogation rooms, storage facilities, incinerators. An underground tunnel, accessible from the bowels of the building, connected the tower to the Epicentre, the building hidden in the forests on the border of Pierreia which served as the Institute's prison for high level captives.

They made their way out of the lift and into an armoured limousine that stood waiting nearby. The Penitent opened the door, wordlessly ushering them inside before getting in the driver's door himself.

As the vehicle started to move, Incubus and Succubus stretched out on the limousine's exquisite velvet seating. Incubus put his feet up, while Succubus sat beside him, her head resting on his chest. She took a nugget of hashish and a small pipe out of her pocket, followed by an antique lighter, inscribed with a name long since worn away to illegibility. Succubus lit the hashish and inhaled deeply, releasing a plume of thick smoke, filling the limousine with a familiar acrid smell. She passed the pipe to Incubus, who did the same, before offering it to Gelli. Gelli declined with a polite nod.

Incubus rolled his eyes. By the teachings of Amorality, no choice could be truly considered right or wrong. Abstinence and indulgence, sobriety and intoxication, pacifism and brutality - all these were simply choices, no better and no worse than any other. Yet he could not help but hold a secret contempt for those who, while freed from conscience and able to indulge the senses at Will, nonetheless declined to do so.

He inhaled from the pipe again, before setting it to one side. He exhaled, sending a plume of grey smoke out into the air. Incubus sat back, eyes closed, allowed his mind to wander.

"Tell me about the vigilante. Zach."

Gelli nodded, withdrew a tablet from his pocket, began to search through it. "Full name, Zachary Vaughn, aka Zach Van Owen. Born 24th August, 1997. Son of Adam Vaughn, a small time indy wrestler in Philadelphia. The family still lives there - or at least they did until recently. One sister.

"Zach first came onto our radar a few years back. He was one of several enemies of the Institute who attempted to sabotage our operations in our former pro wrestling endeavours. After the seizure of power in Pierreia in 2018, those operations were wound down and Zach was no longer a person of interest.

"We kept an eye on him, obviously, tracked his movements and financial transactions. Every so often we would let new recruits to OSA fuck with him and his family, just to get them used to how we work - got them fired from jobs, threatened with eviction, bank accounts shut down, that sort of thing.

"This year things changed. We started getting reports of Institute operatives around the world getting attacked, without warning, all giving the same description - 6'1", athletic, wearing a helmet. At first we had no idea who it was - one person or many or just coincidence.

"Video evidence - body language, voice recognition, that sort of thing - confirmed the attacks had the same culprit. We had a few possibilities - the Children, the residents of the Academy - and perhaps Van Owen.

"Then he showed up in Carnage and we knew it for sure. Him and Mia. Two of our old enemies united again. That was when his family left Philadelphia - we believe he was trying to put them in hiding for their own safety."

"Where are the family now?" asked Succubus.

"We are... dealing with them," said Gelli with a small smile. Incubus laughed and gestured for him to continue.

"Van Owen clearly sees himself in the superhero role. Crusader for truth and justice, fighting corruption and oppression wherever they might be found. The man's an imbecile," Gelli added with evident satisfaction.

"An imbecile, certainly. But an imbecile with allies. Mia and the rest - the so-called Forsaken," said Incubus.

"Indeed. You are due to face him at the next Carnage show, yes?"

Incubus nodded. "We are going to Baltimore. Havoc. Incubus versus Zach Van Owen. I fully intend to send him back to the Forsaken in a body bag."

Gelli nodded. The limousine came to a halt. The Penitent exited the vehicle and opened the doors for them to leave. Incubus, Succubus and Gelli made their way to the lifts, leaving the Penitent behind.

They made their way up into the Epicentre, each floor representing dozens of not hundreds of prisoners, some of them dissidents from within Pierreia, others enemies of the Institute from around the world. Many would never leave.

They reached their destination and exited the lift. A floor length window at the end of the long corridor was the only indication they were above ground. On either side of the corridor was a series of cell doors, each door labelled with the inmate's names and crimes.

Eventually the trio came to a halt. The door outside which they had stopped was labelled "LEVI CAGOTES. DIGITAL SUBVERSION; ATTACKS ON KEY INFRASTRUCTURE; ASSOCIATION WITH BANNED ORGANISATIONS."

Gelli placed his thumb on a pad at the side of the door. The door opened with a soft click, allowing the three of them to enter.

A young man sat in the corner, wearing the plain grey, all-in-one jumpsuit of the prisons of Pierreia. His face was obscured with a hood, a slit over the mouth allowing the wearer to breathe but not to see. His feet were heavily bandaged. Gelli marched over and kicked the young man in the ribs with a vicious boot, delivered not with anger but the calm, patient air of a man simply going about his business.

“You know why we are here. We believe you have information relating to the recent terrorist attack on the Great Square of the City of Dis. We will get this information from you sooner or later. If you cooperate now, you will be allowed to live out the rest of your sentence in a higher level cell. Four hours of mask-free time each day, access to books, a small window allowing a view of the outside world.

“If you do not cooperate…” Gelli allowed the words to hang in the air a moment, the menace obvious.

“Understand this: your so-called allies cannot come to save you. They have already forgotten your name. They know that, to be seen publicly identified with a terrorist dissenter such as yourself would be to bring down condemnation on their own heads. So far as they are concerned, you may as well be dead.

“Your only hope is to assist us in our enquiries. If you do so, you may be spared. The Institute may be able to make use of your skills with hacking and digital subversion. You managed to infiltrate the Institute’s own networks, among the most secure in the world. We could find a use for such talents - if you prove yourself trustworthy.

“The attack on the Great Square. Speak.”

Levi said nothing, his head bowed. James Gelli slapped him across the face, sending him reeling back.

“Speak!”

Levi remained silent. Gelli rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket, withdrawing a small black device topped with two metal prongs. The handset contained a dial with numbers from one to ten, and a series of buttons. Gelli stood back and aimed the device at Levi.

“You are in one of the most secure prisons in the world, governed by an Institute which has the ability to rewrite reality as we will - to falsify documents and make it so you were never born, to destroy your reputation and legacy, to turn family against you forever. We can make angels demons and demons angels, convince the world that black is white and up is down.

“You have one chance to improve your lot in life. Tell us what we need to know.

“SPEAK!”

Levi kept his head down, mumbling something under his breath. Gelli smiled and crossed the room, putting the device to his side for a moment.

“What was that?”, Gelli asked.

Levi raised his head.

“Fuck you.”

Gelli shrugged and crossed the room, removing himself to a safe distance from Levi. He raised the device, turned the dial, and pressed one of the buttons. The two prongs on its tip fired out, striking Levi in the chest. He crumbled to the floor with a groan, body twitching as electricity flowed into him.

Gelli calmly watched the proceedings, his fingers on the dial. He turned it up, stopping at three.

“Speak.”

Incubus and Succubus watched the interrogation with interest, Succubus slipping her hand into that of Incubus, squeezing it with excitement. Incubus smiled and pulled her close as Levi lay trembling.

“Who are the terrorists?” asked Gelli. “Where are they based? What more do they have planned?”

Levi shook his head firmly, fists closed tight, nails digging into his palms. Gelli turned up the dial again, from three up to five. Levi let out a ragged breath, half-screaming, his legs kicking violently.

“The recent attack. Who was responsible? Where are they hiding? How many of them are there?”

“GO TO HELL!” Levi’s voice was hoarse, strained, his muscles spasming as the current passed through him.

Incubus gestured to Gelli. Gelli passed him the device. Incubus looked at it with interest, studying the different buttons, the dial, the cables connecting the device to the prongs and to Levi’s prone body.

“Levi,” said Incubus. “You can call me Incubus. My consort Succubus and I are -”

“I KNOW WHO YOU ARE” came Levi’s voice, struggling through the pain.

Incubus nodded. “Then you must know the position we hold within the Institute and the nation of Pierreia. Officer Gelli is telling you the truth. There is no hope outside of the walls of the Institute. If you submit to our power, we can -”

“NO!”

Levi let out a blood curdling scream, so loud the very air itself seemed to vibrate. Incubus turned the dial up, from five to six, seven, eight.

Succubus stepped forward, leaning down to the prone Levi as he writhed in agony. Her eyes were wide, cheeks flushed, focused on Levi with an almost ecstatic fascination. She pulled on Levi’s mask, loosening it, pulling it up enough to show his face.

The young man’s expression was wracked with pain, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Succubus leaned in, whispered into Levi’s ear. She stared into his eyes a moment, then kissed him deeply, pulling his body closer to hers. Incubus turned the dial one last time - to nine, then finally to ten. Levi convulsed in the torment, the electricity flowing through him, every cell of his body exploding in pain.

Succubus stood and returned to Incubus, breathing heavily, resting her head on his chest as he worked the device. Levi lay on the floor, screaming incoherently as the pain wracked his body. Somewhere in the midst of it all, he screamed out a series of numbers.

“28-06-42-12!”

Incubus nodded and pressed a button on the device. The current cut out immediately and Levi’s body sagged, curled up in the foetal position, sobbing. The prongs withdrew from his body, snapping back into the device. Incubus handed it to Gelli, who accepted it with a simple nod.

“Coordinates,” said Gelli. “Presumably some sort of safe house or hidden base in the mountains. I’ll have my people look into it. We’re getting somewhere.”

“We are,” said Incubus. “Soon it will be time to strike. And we only need to strike once.”