nextgenerationmarvel | Murderworld 2012

Current Location: Murderworld

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Murderworld 2012

The sound of spotlights coming on could be heard, and the darkness that had embraced the people within the room had disappeared. Instead, they were on what looked like an elaborate stage... something out of a reality TV show like the Bachelor. As if things could not get stranger, a large, 65" LED TV came to life, showing a young woman in a white jacket, green shirt, and a horrible yellow and orange polka dot tie.

"Ah! Our lovely contestants have woken up! Welcome, welcome one and all to Murderworld 2012!" The neuro-implants in the sides of her eyes began to glow a bright green in color, and her face had a large smile upon it. "These contestants were carefully selected to take part in the most fun, and dangerous version of Murderworld yet! Winners get to live, if we have any winners, that is. And the losers? Well, they get to die horribly painful and elaborate deaths!"

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No one in the audience got the joke, as it would be about a thousand years before a Tombstone Pizza was invented. Instead, the Executioner, who was nearly eight feet tall, and holding an axe just as big, tried to take a swing at Spider-Man. The man in the white lab coat rolled off the block, trying to get a safe distance away from the executioner.

"Spider-Man!" The man in the white lab coat shouted. "Look out! He's one of the strongest robots in the simulation! You need to find a way to disable him before he can call the other ones to help! If he does that, we won;t survive!"

Spider-Man nodded. He didn't question the man - who he was or anything - but having the confirmation that this was, in fact, not an actual medieval place? Well, that helped.

He pivoted, turning towards the executioner, and shot out with a bioelectric venom blast, sickly green light surging and crackling from his fingertips, lancing towards the executioner.

"He's not the Norse one, is he? Amora's lapdog?" Because these things were good to know.

"No! They are generic Executioners!" The man shouted back. "Their strength is nothing to sneeze at! Do not take them lightly!"

The bio-electric venom blast managed to short circuit the Executioner before he could call for the help of others. It dropped it's axe and practically turned into a statue. Once the man in the white coat saw this, he carefully moved over to Spider-Man.

"Thank you! I was worried this was going to be the last of me!" The man appeared very grateful for the rescue. "My name is Francis Alder, a lead scientist at "Tech-Sync". We make neurological implants and other cybernetic devices. I umm... do not know how I exactly got here. The last thing I remember was heading home in a cab."

"The only thing I ever take lightly is myself on an air current," Spider-Man said lightly. "Or television show schedules, because thank you Hulu."

"Would've been more helpful if your name was Steve Austin, though, Frankie," he added, making perhaps another reference that no one but his retro-tv-loving-heart would get. "You know how to fight? Because you might have to." Pause. "Unless you know enough about cybernetics to bring these things down while I distract them with venom blasts and witty one-liners."

"I'm a scientist, not a fighter!" Francis nearly shouted out."Arcade forced us to "improve" these automatons. We thought he would let us live after helping reconstruct his Murderworld. Instead, he started killing us all off for entertainment! Worse, he is not even here anymore! He's using the last recipient of our neurological implants as a puppet, while he's bathing in the sun somewhere!"

Francis beckoned Spider-Man to follow him away from the executioner block and towards the market stalls. As they moved past the stalls and into one of the few buildings in the area. Inside, well, it was not like the rest of the world. It had some modern tools, a workbench, an air purifier, and a locker. This must have been a section in which the Tech-Sync Industries employees were allowed a break of some sort.

"This area is a blind spot to Arcade's cameras. We'll be safe here, for now. Francis removed his glasses and started to clean them. " You will need to get inside of the main Castle in this world in order to get out. We built a switch under one of the arms of the King's throne that acts as a "kill switch" to this world. I was trying to use it, when I was caught and well... you saved me. Once the switch is flipped, the automatons will cease activity, and a door will open getting us out of here!"

The man rubbed his chin for a moment in thought, before speaking again. he was quite the chatter box, but at least he had useful information.

"The best way for you to get access to the switch is to tell the automatons that you are the King's new jester, and make him laugh. And yes... the damn thing is programed to find humor in jokes, but they have to be good jokes! bad ones get you taken to the executioner's block! And I also need you to conserve that electro webbing of yours. It may be the only way to stop Arcade, though there is a downside to it."

"Great, my sense of humour is my super power," Spider-Man said. He had swung one of his hooks up to the ceiling and was now hanging upside down from it. "Oh, it's not electro-webbing," he said. "Bio-electric energy blasts. Stuns or kills the same way lightning can, and it pierces solid metals when I use it with a razor-sharp intensity." He nodded. "Don't worry. I'll use the spider-hooks and my other abilities more until I absolutely need to use my blasts." He paused, then, and dismounted, landing in a crouch. Standing up, he added, "wait, what's the downside?"

"The downside is that too much electricity could kill Ms. LeBeau herself." Francis pointed out. "Arcade had hacked into her neurological implants and has been using her as a puppet for weeks. A low pulse of electricity should knock out his connection to her body and put her back in control for only a few moments. The only way to stop him would be to fry the implants completely, which unfortunately will leave Ms. LeBeau somewhat...."

Francis soon realizes he's talking to a kid and tries to explain what he is saying in a way he could understand.

"The implants were designed to help Ms. LeBeau maintain control of her frontal lobes after a bullet practically destroyed them. Without the implants, she will lose the ability to function like a normal person. Her Intellect or intelligence will be downgraded to something close to a small child, leaving her completely harmless. By creating a strong enough power surge that does not kill her, but kills the implants, Arcade will have no control of her, and we can get out of here alive!"

Well, not exactly a kid. Spider-Man, underneath the mask, was in college, and old enough to drink. And thankfully, due to the special powers handed down to him by his mother, Jesse could drink and not get drunk.

"I'll try my best," Spider-Man confirmed. "What about you? Are you gonna be going with me, or do you have a special device that's going to help you be, like, the Charlie to my Angel?" He wanted to know how deep was going into this alone.

"I'll help you as much as I can." Francis nodded his head. "All I can do is lead you to the Castle and towards the throne room. I am not built for fighting, but I will do what I can to help you create a distraction in order to get us both out of here alive! After that, if you manage to subdue Arcade's main puppet, I can keep her stable until we can get her to a hospital."

Francis followed Spider-Man back out into the simulation and towards the Castle. Several heads were on pikes... all were Tech-Sync employees that worked on Medieval World. He did his best not to look, and just continue moving with Spider-Man.

Eventually, the duo made their way into the Castle and towards the throne room. The King was on that throne, two executioners were at his side, standing protectively over the main automaton. With a jolly laugh, something like Santa Claus, the King beckoned Spider-Man and Francis forward.

"Ah! The new jesters are here!" He laughed and slapped his knee. "You best be funny, or you will end up like the rest! A head on a spike or drawn and quartered!"

"I hope you know what you are doing" Francis told Spider-Man.

"Hey, I'm Spider-Man, not Captain America. Of course I don't know what I'm doing." This was said in an easy-breezy fashion. No, he had no plan as such, but Spiders were known for being able to come up with things off the cuff.

The heads-on-pikes thing was very Lord of the Flies. Spider-Man was absolutely a little unnerved, but thankfully no one could see it because of his mask.

Spider-Man was silent for a very long moment. He tilted his head. Okay, so thus far, jokes hadn't really worked with this guy. Clearly, he didn't find them funny because otherwise all of these people wouldn't have ended up dead.

Maybe he finds violence funny?

He shot out with his hooks, intent on grabbing the heads of the two executioners and dinging their heads together.

"Wokka wokka," Spider-Man darkly said.

The two Executioners fell face first on to the floor with a loud, metallic thud. As they were starting to get up, Francis made his move, he rushed to the King's throne and tried to hit the skill switch. The King tried to slam his scepter down on Francis's head, while the Executioners were starting to move towards Spider-Man, but it was to no avail. The kill switch was hit, and all the automatons just stopped dead in their tracks.

Francis gave off a sigh of relief, looking back over at Spider-Man.

"Well... that worked in our favor, yes?" he wiped the sweat off his brow before heading back towards Spider-Man, heading towards a door that opened by a set of paintings. "The collar about your neck is fake, so you can just rip that off if you will. Now let us get out of here and stop this madness!

"Better than I expected," Spider-Man agreed. Which, for a moment, made him think that this was almost too easy.

Either that, or they actually expected someone to play by their rules instead of doing things his or her own way.

He ripped the collar off and, after a moment's hesitation, grabbed the King's scepter. What? It could make a handy weapon, right?

He turned and followed Francis through the painting then.

Once they were out of Medieval World, Spider-Man and Francis found themselves in a metallic corridor. And the right side were the words "Medieval World" written in yellow paint on the wall, and on the left was "Nuclear Town".

"We're in the main corridor. In the center should be where Arcade is hiding, or at least one would assume. The damn place was made to look like a "Simon" board, so having Arcade in the middle of this place makes sense. He'd be able to keep his eye on all the rooms." Francis shook his head and singled Spider-Man to follow him.

Spider-Man idly tossed the scepter up and down. "You think there's a Jetsonsville and a Sequestria as well?" he asked, looking at the sign for a moment. "No? This guy kind of needs a life. Or, you know, resort to playing the Sims."

Spider-Man stepped lightly, eyes peeled for any of the others that were kidnapped. So far, none of them.

That either meant they were each still fighting their way out, or had made their way to the central room.

Do they all have a Frankie?

"You're sure we're headed to the control room, right? You're not just like an Arcade bot leading me to certain doom? Or, you know, Arcade himself?" These were, obviously, questions that he should have asked before, but the ease of all of this was unnerving him just a little. Not that he expected Francis to be honest about it if he was indeed evil.

Guess I'll just find out when I get there.

"I am perfectly human, even if I do not sound it!" Francis raised an eyebrow. "I have a form of autism that makes me, well, sound a bit odd. I am also socially awkward if you could not tell."

"To be honest, most people with my form of autism are desired by tech industries because we are good with numbers and programming." He sounded a bit proud, before changing the subject. "I am sure we're headed there, but we should not let our guard down. The others could have escaped, or Arcade set some sort of trap that not even we tech-Sync employees knew about."

"Oh, hey, wasn't getting all judgey-wudgey. I was just curious is all." The place they were in was very cold, very technical. Lifeless, almost.

"So. Are we there yet?"

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Murderworld 2012

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