Post by MKULTRA on Nov 16, 2016 14:25:21 GMT -6
Kinks wasn't the brightest of people, was he?
That fact was clearly made apparent as the kid, with no sense of tact or subtlety, seemingly thought it was better to startle an already terrified crowd even further in an attempt to warn them about an invisible menace. Still, as astonishingly simple as Kinks was making himself look at the moment, that stupidity was--ironically enough--what was keeping him out of the Cutter's grasp.
Physically, the killer was still laying there on the ground, doing a fantastic job of looking passed out right now...but internally, the murderer was very much alive, and their mind was humming with activity. Despite all that had currently happened, there was no reason to rush things...they simply had to wait for their moment, and then strike. The Arrow was already in their possession, and--according to Yorke's theory--the killer had already possessed a body...so why, then, was the Cutter still sticking around? Was there some hidden agenda that they had in mind?
Regardless of the reason, they were still here, and that was bound to cause trouble...but when Kinks summoned his Stand and tried to use the ghost to reach for the "boy's" body, that's when the Cutter's moment finally came!
There was no movement from the boy's body at that point, no immediate signs of activity or aggression...but on his face, the blonde teenager bore a wicked grin before speaking to Yorke's hapless "assistant".
"̥̗̣̖͉T̬͇͙͕̻̻̼h̭͎͔̻̥an̬̣̪̬͔k̙̜̠̟̱ͅ ͍͓͔yo̙̲u̖ͅ.̬̞.̖̜̯ͅ.̣͓͔̺̪"̟͖̻̩
In an instant, and without any sort of forewarning to the fact, time was stopped. All colors had been inverted as a wave of what almost looked like pressure spread throughout the area, the colors in the area all beginning to slowly return to their normal state as the pressure wave subsided and gradually began to return to its origin point...i.e., the Cutter. Slowly, as if though taking their time, the Cutter's form began to pick itself up off of the ground as he silently brushed aside the now-frozen pinballs and made his way to Kinks, their face still bearing that same wicked grin as before, and their right hand holding the Arrow that was hidden in the shadows when Kinks arrived.
"̴I͜ ̶͜ŗȩ̀me͏m̢b̨͝e͝r y̨o̶u̕.̧̛͜.͠.҉̶"̧ they said, examining the boy's frozen form. "I suppo͘se̸ y̢o͡u̢ h̶a̡ve͡ m҉e ̸t͜o tha̴n͟k҉ f͝or yo̧ur͢ new àbìl͟iti̴es. ̡ It͡'s̛ ̨a ҉shame̸ I ̸c̴o͝u̷l͡d̷n͢'t̵ t̕ak̸e ͢you w͘h́en̵ I͠ ͠had ҉the̷ ̷çḩąnce...yo̴ù ̶w͠o͠u̶ld'vȩ las̀t̕éd q̷ùi҉te a̕ wh͏ile.̨ ͏ O͏ne,̨ ̶may͟be even t͞w̸o w͝e͟e͟k̢s͞.͢.̧.bu̡t I҉ wo͝n'̷t ̶cry ̶o̡ver ́s̵pill͜éd̀ ̷milk. ͢ ͠This҉'ll ̕do ͞just f͡i̷n̶e, ͜for͝ ̶no̢w.͢.."̴ they said, lightly patting themselves on the chest...or, more accurately, patting their new body's chest.
Their Stand was summoned then, its shadowy, menacing form lurking behind Kinks as it silently stared at the frozen teen, its fist bawling up as it drew it back to its side, its other hand gripping the teen's right shoulder tightly as it seemed ready to strike...
"...I ̡coul̨d҉ kiļl̷ you ̛ǹow͜,̛ bu͘t Ì'͡d ̧r͞a͘t̷h̵er̶ ͜n͏ot ͠ḑi̕r̢ty ́my͜ ̕o̡w̡n̛ ha̧n̢d̕s͝ wįt̵h́ yo̢ur ̧b͞lo̧o̧d, ̀if͘ I ͜c҉an͟ ̧h̀el̨p it̷.҉ ̧ ̸A ̡'̧d̶e̕mo̧ns̕t͏r͡a̡t̢i̡on' is͝ ̕be̷tt͝er way ̀t͜ò get̛ ́th̵is͠ d̡ơne, ̷I̕ t͢h̛i͘n̛k̕.̧ ͞ ̛S͘o͢ h͞er̡e,̛ ̴m̶ak͞e ̶s͏uré y̷o̴u͢ s̸o͟a͜k ͘i͡t̵ u͜p̧...Į wa͢nt yo͢u ̡t̕ơ fee̵l ͜it ̷a҉ll ́th͟e̢ ̀w͟a͠y to͠ you͡r̛ bo͡nes.͡.͜.͜!"
Using the grip on the frozen Kinks' shoulder as a pivot point, Dance of Death--with an incredible amount of both power and speed--swung around to the assistant's front and then blasted the kid's abdomen with a single, bone-shatteringly powerful punch, the blow so powerful that the force alone would've been enough to lift the boy off of the ground...but as powerful as it was, it wouldn't have been enough to kill the boy outright. Internal bleeding and a ruptured pancreas? Probably. Death? Unlikely...besides, the girl back at the gym seemed a more than capable healer.
Still...as the Cutter did this, he couldn't help but notice the person with the cellphone, frozen in time and recording them. The killer seemed momentarily surprised at this, but closed his eyes and smiled at this. Truly, Yorke was quite a resourceful opponent...but in the face of Dance of Death, any strides the detective took to stop him were--in the killer's eyes--utterly futile. The shadowy Stand drew its fist back then, leaving Kinks hovering midair as the killer turned his back to the boy.
"͟T͞h̕is d̛i̢s͘tórti͏on i̛n t̕íme ̀hás b͢ee̷ņ ̡ǵo̵iǹg ͠o̢n foŕ a͏ bi̢t to͝ǫ ̴l̵o͝ǹg.͘..t̴here'̨s ̨t͢oo much ̨straìn ̷on thís b͞od͢y.҉ ̴S̡urel͟y ̛Yo͏r̨k̛e͟ ͞an̨d̵ h͢is̸ ̢lįt̷tle ̕b̧an͏d ̸òf m̧ed͢dl̢e͏r̴s̡ ͝a̡re̶ on͟ t͟h͢e͡ wa̷y̕ here.̧..they͢'͘r͝e ̀probab̛ļy ̧clo҉se͞ alrȩad͟y͢.͞ ͏ I̛f ͞I ̛kee͘p t́h͡is ̀u̸p͝ aǹy͡ ̕lo͏ng̸er̸, I͟'l̢ļ ͡end ̴up b҉uŗņin̸g̨ ̴th̸is̶ ̢bo͟dy̧ o̢ut; ̵but ͢n͜o҉ ma͟tt͞e̷ŕ.́ I'͞ve ̴mad͏e ̴m͞y҉ ͝p̸o͝i̢nt ͢h̵ér͡e..."̶
With that, time resumed...and the Cutter was gone again, just as he had been the last time, back when he fought Hammer and the others. Had they left any evidence behind? Any clues? It was hard to tell...but perhaps Yorke could find--or otherwise deduce--some important information from the encounter?
That fact was clearly made apparent as the kid, with no sense of tact or subtlety, seemingly thought it was better to startle an already terrified crowd even further in an attempt to warn them about an invisible menace. Still, as astonishingly simple as Kinks was making himself look at the moment, that stupidity was--ironically enough--what was keeping him out of the Cutter's grasp.
Physically, the killer was still laying there on the ground, doing a fantastic job of looking passed out right now...but internally, the murderer was very much alive, and their mind was humming with activity. Despite all that had currently happened, there was no reason to rush things...they simply had to wait for their moment, and then strike. The Arrow was already in their possession, and--according to Yorke's theory--the killer had already possessed a body...so why, then, was the Cutter still sticking around? Was there some hidden agenda that they had in mind?
Regardless of the reason, they were still here, and that was bound to cause trouble...but when Kinks summoned his Stand and tried to use the ghost to reach for the "boy's" body, that's when the Cutter's moment finally came!
There was no movement from the boy's body at that point, no immediate signs of activity or aggression...but on his face, the blonde teenager bore a wicked grin before speaking to Yorke's hapless "assistant".
"̥̗̣̖͉T̬͇͙͕̻̻̼h̭͎͔̻̥an̬̣̪̬͔k̙̜̠̟̱ͅ ͍͓͔yo̙̲u̖ͅ.̬̞.̖̜̯ͅ.̣͓͔̺̪"̟͖̻̩
In an instant, and without any sort of forewarning to the fact, time was stopped. All colors had been inverted as a wave of what almost looked like pressure spread throughout the area, the colors in the area all beginning to slowly return to their normal state as the pressure wave subsided and gradually began to return to its origin point...i.e., the Cutter. Slowly, as if though taking their time, the Cutter's form began to pick itself up off of the ground as he silently brushed aside the now-frozen pinballs and made his way to Kinks, their face still bearing that same wicked grin as before, and their right hand holding the Arrow that was hidden in the shadows when Kinks arrived.
"̴I͜ ̶͜ŗȩ̀me͏m̢b̨͝e͝r y̨o̶u̕.̧̛͜.͠.҉̶"̧ they said, examining the boy's frozen form. "I suppo͘se̸ y̢o͡u̢ h̶a̡ve͡ m҉e ̸t͜o tha̴n͟k҉ f͝or yo̧ur͢ new àbìl͟iti̴es. ̡ It͡'s̛ ̨a ҉shame̸ I ̸c̴o͝u̷l͡d̷n͢'t̵ t̕ak̸e ͢you w͘h́en̵ I͠ ͠had ҉the̷ ̷çḩąnce...yo̴ù ̶w͠o͠u̶ld'vȩ las̀t̕éd q̷ùi҉te a̕ wh͏ile.̨ ͏ O͏ne,̨ ̶may͟be even t͞w̸o w͝e͟e͟k̢s͞.͢.̧.bu̡t I҉ wo͝n'̷t ̶cry ̶o̡ver ́s̵pill͜éd̀ ̷milk. ͢ ͠This҉'ll ̕do ͞just f͡i̷n̶e, ͜for͝ ̶no̢w.͢.."̴ they said, lightly patting themselves on the chest...or, more accurately, patting their new body's chest.
Their Stand was summoned then, its shadowy, menacing form lurking behind Kinks as it silently stared at the frozen teen, its fist bawling up as it drew it back to its side, its other hand gripping the teen's right shoulder tightly as it seemed ready to strike...
"...I ̡coul̨d҉ kiļl̷ you ̛ǹow͜,̛ bu͘t Ì'͡d ̧r͞a͘t̷h̵er̶ ͜n͏ot ͠ḑi̕r̢ty ́my͜ ̕o̡w̡n̛ ha̧n̢d̕s͝ wįt̵h́ yo̢ur ̧b͞lo̧o̧d, ̀if͘ I ͜c҉an͟ ̧h̀el̨p it̷.҉ ̧ ̸A ̡'̧d̶e̕mo̧ns̕t͏r͡a̡t̢i̡on' is͝ ̕be̷tt͝er way ̀t͜ò get̛ ́th̵is͠ d̡ơne, ̷I̕ t͢h̛i͘n̛k̕.̧ ͞ ̛S͘o͢ h͞er̡e,̛ ̴m̶ak͞e ̶s͏uré y̷o̴u͢ s̸o͟a͜k ͘i͡t̵ u͜p̧...Į wa͢nt yo͢u ̡t̕ơ fee̵l ͜it ̷a҉ll ́th͟e̢ ̀w͟a͠y to͠ you͡r̛ bo͡nes.͡.͜.͜!"
Using the grip on the frozen Kinks' shoulder as a pivot point, Dance of Death--with an incredible amount of both power and speed--swung around to the assistant's front and then blasted the kid's abdomen with a single, bone-shatteringly powerful punch, the blow so powerful that the force alone would've been enough to lift the boy off of the ground...but as powerful as it was, it wouldn't have been enough to kill the boy outright. Internal bleeding and a ruptured pancreas? Probably. Death? Unlikely...besides, the girl back at the gym seemed a more than capable healer.
Still...as the Cutter did this, he couldn't help but notice the person with the cellphone, frozen in time and recording them. The killer seemed momentarily surprised at this, but closed his eyes and smiled at this. Truly, Yorke was quite a resourceful opponent...but in the face of Dance of Death, any strides the detective took to stop him were--in the killer's eyes--utterly futile. The shadowy Stand drew its fist back then, leaving Kinks hovering midair as the killer turned his back to the boy.
"͟T͞h̕is d̛i̢s͘tórti͏on i̛n t̕íme ̀hás b͢ee̷ņ ̡ǵo̵iǹg ͠o̢n foŕ a͏ bi̢t to͝ǫ ̴l̵o͝ǹg.͘..t̴here'̨s ̨t͢oo much ̨straìn ̷on thís b͞od͢y.҉ ̴S̡urel͟y ̛Yo͏r̨k̛e͟ ͞an̨d̵ h͢is̸ ̢lįt̷tle ̕b̧an͏d ̸òf m̧ed͢dl̢e͏r̴s̡ ͝a̡re̶ on͟ t͟h͢e͡ wa̷y̕ here.̧..they͢'͘r͝e ̀probab̛ļy ̧clo҉se͞ alrȩad͟y͢.͞ ͏ I̛f ͞I ̛kee͘p t́h͡is ̀u̸p͝ aǹy͡ ̕lo͏ng̸er̸, I͟'l̢ļ ͡end ̴up b҉uŗņin̸g̨ ̴th̸is̶ ̢bo͟dy̧ o̢ut; ̵but ͢n͜o҉ ma͟tt͞e̷ŕ.́ I'͞ve ̴mad͏e ̴m͞y҉ ͝p̸o͝i̢nt ͢h̵ér͡e..."̶
With that, time resumed...and the Cutter was gone again, just as he had been the last time, back when he fought Hammer and the others. Had they left any evidence behind? Any clues? It was hard to tell...but perhaps Yorke could find--or otherwise deduce--some important information from the encounter?