Excalibur Reawakened:Excalibur's Champion

[mcstringer]

This will be the first story of a hopeful series. All of the installments of the Excalibur series will be NC-17 for the cussing, violence, and suggestive material in the story. Please leave any comments you'd like to say to VMs or PMs to me. I welcome both applause and criticism because I need the improvement. Thank you, and enjoy the story.

WARNING: This story is a fantasy. This is NOT REAL. This story has nothing to do with my own personal beliefs about anything and if anyone is offended please expression your opinions to me in a cognitve non-spamming manner. The free expression of writing is supposed to be thought provoking and express feelings, ideas, questions, and anything else a writer wants. At any point and time you, the reader, does not agree with what is written, then don't read. You have been warned.



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Water slapped the and rolled up and down the beach of black volcanic sand. The remote resort like location was a balmy 96 degrees. No human beings around except some sand crabs, a wrecked emergency raft, and an unconscious body of a 21 year old white male, 'round 5'7", fat, short brownish black hair with some dark red mixed in, full 'stash and beard, and hazel eyes. ME. My name is Malcom Craig Stringer and I will become Excalibur's Champion.

[mcstringer]

The sword Excalibur roared in the bloody wind in the anonymouse hands of the last living decendent of King Arthur. It cut a swath through its enemies as it slipped and danced in the moonlit battlefield. The Britons and Anglo-Saxxon alliance surged forward behind the last surviving Knights of the Round Table: Sir Kay, Sir Lancelot, Sir Promethus the Moor, and Sir Guy the Mage. The former King of Camelot and the Knights were making a tactical retreat away from the Britons and Angl-Saxxons. They were betrayed by the ambitions of another and though they have escaped may time before. The last of the heroes were on their last straw. The anonymous King made his knights pause for a moment.

"Hold friends, we are done today. Let us make a stand to be remembered."

Concern spreads onto everyone's face. Lancelot is the first to speak.

"But they want the sword, my king."

"The evil will not have it. It flies even now to Merlin by Guinevre's wings. She holds the real blade swapped for an enchanted replica. The grail resides with him, so why shouldn't the most powerful key to it go as well. I thank your son Lancelot for volunteering to guard her on her journey. I fear no betrayal if any of you wish to leave."

None of the knights moved an inch.

"Let us ready ourselves to meet God in heaven."

Heavy boot steps, shouts, the clanging of metal. It is a short and brutal fight. The tide of bodies overflow the mightiest warriors in the known world.

A proud voice breaks the silence of the night after the slaughter. Most likily from the Briton general or noble that lead the assault, but after the moon lights the speaker's face, it is not. It is the face of the traitor, Sir Percival the Green Knight.

"My Queen, the blade and power we seek is not amongst the bodies."

As if by socery. The figure of a majestic female shimmers to life a top a night dark stallion incased in armor.

"Percival my dear, we have all the time in the world. It will show up again. And when it does we...will take it."

[mcstringer]

I awaken again a little blurred. I remember being carted hand over fist by kids in suits into a spartan specific purpose-type vehicle. I scratched my head at the thought of the kids and come to find out that I have an IV in that arm. I look around a as much and I can to find myself squished to a hospital bed with a huge quilt smashed up against my chest. My bare feet were sticking out the end of the bed. Some nurse type was just leaving after checking on her attendee. The nurse mutters something to someone outside my room, and the person was uregularly important because of the foot per pound speed as the nurse exited.

A very....robust lady saunters her way into my room. She wore a very conservative business suit and covered the sexy librarian type to a T. My now wholey awake mind had hit the gutter and started wallowing in it, and I imagine certain senarios that would be physically pleasent in my future eventhough they were not very likily. I conciously attempted to better position myself alittle more comfortably and hide the growth downstairs. I hear a comfortablily polite laugh from woman proweling around be to one of the hospital chairs to my right which see sits in with a tablet of some kind, probably an iPad.

"Oh sorry, I forgot I had that effect on people. Here let me change that."

It was not long until I look to myself and feel the atmosphere change, and though I felt more comfortable, I no longer had any problems either.

" My name is Mia Hartnet, I was sent to you by upper management to ask you a question. Do you want to conquer your human limits and change yourself and your generations into something better?"

"Of course I would! What do I need to do?"

A cold smile spread across her warm face.

"Glad to see our information was not wrong. The operation was already under way so you would do so either willingly or not. The not part included a memory wipe, and complete rebuild of your mind before continuing. However you'll recieve the standard faked death and a complementary body reconstruction to get rid of that obeseness and your mental aptitude tests will begin after that, thank you for joining Viper Interprises, have a nice day."

I couldn't stop to wonder or ask questions because as the woman was leaving all I saw was a wave of a hand, and I was out like a light.

[mcstringer]

I find myself snapping awake on a cot with a pillow and a white quilt over me. I sit up and close my eyes to steady myself. I start remembering the grueling, painful processes that made me more than human. The repair tanks, the surgery, analysis tests. I became a murder, a monster under Mrs. Hartnet's powers. I could do nothing. I became her slave. I have existed as nothing else for 124 days 6 hours 34 minutes.

I honestly had no hope until I met Brainchild. An anonymous voice to us captives, but a bane to Hartnet and her company. The voice taught us individually how to excersise our minds out of the Company's control. To hide secrets, mask ourselves in indifference, and harden our hearts to willingly killing innocent people for the sake of Merlin and Excalibur. I have no idea what or who they are, but if they can set me free and give so many people hope then they can't be so bad.

I start my daily before breakfast routine perscribed by the Company: Excesise, breakfast cubes, morning hygenine, then take control pills. Except I've started disposing of my pills as carefully as I could. A dangerous task because some have done as I have and were caught and were never seen again. I slip on the Company jumpsuit. colored Farmer Brown because I work the fields in the hydroponics labs, when they are not testing me. Or when I don't get picked for the "random" Gladiator Games. An intense sport for randomized single players or teams. Each game is randomized and no team or player knows what it or their oponent will be until their time comes. The new ones like me are picked more often to intergrate them into the whole, you know trade stories, become familiar that sort of junk.

I wave to familiar faces and talk with people nearby. The weather, families, education, careers, you know the normal bull crap that does not mean anything, but fills space until you know the person or find something else to talk about. The name of our prison is call Liberty City. Haha, some dipshit is a comedian. It is intrensicly perfect. Walls of marble, granite, and steel. An ignorant populace surrounded by a governing body. It even has a free mass transit system to our assigned jobs. I found it odd at first that the Company allowed us so much freedom until I discovered the hidden cameras while on Repair detail and the reports made to the "Outsiders" by the police while on security detail. 14 days in I was reminded I was a captive. 90 days in I became free in my cell and saw through the glamours and illusions and began excersizing my mind under Brainchild's instructions. Do I know if he is eniemy or foe? I don't care because I feel safer. I can keep secrets now. I have privacy. I am sane.

[mcstringer]

I stop by a pretzel stand and grab an XL Salty Soft Pretzel. The everyday pedestrian traffic, kids mingling, angry drivers or flyers, the occasional Arabic snack stand all help create a since of normality in the city. Except it's over 200,000 people have been forced to geneticly "evolve" one way or nuther.

By now I've become part of the masses and shoved my way to the Mass Transit Station sometimes the Atomic Bullet Train, ABT, or Nuke. I slip on after showing a day guard my credentials for Farming Detail, though soon after entering the Nuke they were taken out of my hands because I was distracted while trying to find a seat.

"Port, Flash, which one of you did it?"

Both figures appear before me one with a pop and the other a poof. It is hard to tell them apart even when they are standing side by side.They had the same Gypsy heritage: Dark hair, dark eyes, and strong features. They are both about the same height, weight. Skin color and eye color are the same. They were around 16 years of age. They keep their hair short to add to the effect just to annoy the heck out of me and every body else. Identical twins tend to do that often it seems. According to their story they were once circus performers. The were caught acrobating themselves out of some one elses jewelry store, were sent to prison, and were later sold to the Company. Where one gained the ability to teleport and ther other hyperspeed.

I hold out my left hand while the other is holding on to a stablizing hook.

"Give it."

The reluctant Port slipped me my creds and wallet. Flash handed over my utility tools.

With a reluctant smile I took them from them troublesome duo.

"I hate you both."

"MetalHead has Analyzer entered the Nuke yet?"

The gravelly voice of G-man or Sarge, the walking black granite tower, cut through the train noise. The now Detail Foreman, though according to his story he was a tall, black, and a Marine Sargent. Becoming a tower of black granite didn't change the Sargent part one bit. Aparently his tough as nails attitude stayed with him during his Company "reconstruction". Because he became a really huge wall of black "granite", tougher than anything found yet, he often gets the more extreme endurance or stength details.

"No, sir"


I am often with him because of my power. I can shape, change, control ferrous metals to my needs. Meaning iron, copper, gold, aluminum, nickel, etc. I am most effective with the metal pulled from my own body. It has been labeled Nth metal and has similar properties as other metals except it is more...liquid and shapes itself easier to my needs. It is also lusturous, durable, non-magnetic, does not oxidize easily, resitant to heat, cold, and acids. I got my name MetalHead because I incase myself in it before I begin a fight.

"Make sure she gets on."

"Yes, sir"

I notice Port and Flash tapping on the train's glass window and are jumping up and down.

"There she is, there she is."

Their uncanny hyper activity grates at my often. Especially when they speak in unison as they were doing then.

"Well Port go get her. The train is about to start."

"Yes, sir G-man, sir"

The young teen pops back into the train seconds before the train doors close with a very slim red-head of a normal height. Her firey personality often leads to cussing matches with her superiors. You'd hear more from her than her super that is for sure. Her pure Irish heritage does not let her back down, but that is our Hypercog, Analyzer or Ann for short.

"Glad you could make it."

Ann is bent over her self expelling sweat from every pore. She just shakes her head in the affirmative.

"Woke up late again?"

I get a blistering stare. I let go of the strap and bend over to give her some water from my canteen and a vitamin. They both come out of my utitlity tool kit. Microtech is amazing. I am careful to keep my XL Salty Soft Pretzel away from her, we are both fans of Salty's pretzels. She gratefully takes the offered water and pill.

"I could wake you up as I go by. You are not far from my house."

She wipes her mouth and gains enough strength to stand and give me a violent stare.

"No."

"Ok then."

I remember trying this before, you know to be that Southern Gentleman stereotype and pushing it to far. Then I also remember pain and a bloody nose. But this time I quietly return my stuff to my tool kit that shrinks back to its former size. Again Microtech is amazing. My hand automaticly finds the handle strap as the Nuke bolts forwad. On to its next stop then to the Farm were I and the rest work as a unit.

[mcstringer]

Let me explain something in Farming Detail. It is not the dictative meaning of farm, but the connotative, like the C.I.A.'s FARM and "Bit the farm. Yep, people, we kill or "cultivate" people. Well, the Company's failed experiments, but still people. The "growing" part is done somewhere else with the more "trusted" populace. I couldn't believe I signed on with sick-os, but shit happens I guess.

Some of my group dies each time we do this. I hate doing this. I refocus myself on the task at hand. I let the monotony of the train ride focus my mind. I check the duty roster in my tablet.


You are here....Finally, I can be free....

For a moment my brain zoned out. It was as if I could hear nothing else, but "You are here. Finally, I can be free." It was weird. I never zonked out like that before. After giving myself a good shake, my attention returned to the electronic tablet in my hand. The duty roster was downloaded daily on to it, and I was checking the specifics of our duties again.

"Aw crap"

"What?"

Ann was the closest to me in the crumpled spaces the Nuke provided and she had a tough time making he way through the crowd. When she finallly made her way to me, she scrunched her face up as she looked over my shoulder.

"I am in Recording again!! DAAMN IT."

"Haha, yah I noticed. You'll be sitting pretty behind the Glass while the rest of us crush the new meat."

I yank my head away from her just before she fills the entire room with her inventive expletives. If my head was in the same position it was a second earlier, I would not have been able to hear for a while. As it was, my ears rang after she stopped and huffed off. The Nuke soon stopped at the Farm. The place where they grew new monsters like us.

[mcstringer]

The aggregate mood shifted to a morbid quiet, which never happens. We we seperated into our normal companies, and squads so nothing was wrong there, but something kept nagging me.

"Something is not right."

I said that aloud to no one in particular, but Ann beside me noticed and started planning. I've learned to obey the "bump of trouble" that I've developed during my short stay with The Company. It was first used for bad or harsh weather changes as I farmed out in the fields with my grandfather, but G-man, the Granite Monster Sargent, honed the ability into a deadly machine. Highly reliable and worth listening. And Ann's plans have never let us down yet.

As Ann calculated our exit strategy, Port and Flash began to fidget near me, which means they noticed it also, and G-man had long before us all as usual. Therefore, everything was being handled. The worry kept nagging me, so I took a risk and opened my mind to an element I did not trust. I contacted my psychic trainer, Brainchild.

" Hello, this is Metal calling Brainchild, something is up. I can't tell what it is. I need some insite"

" Well Metal, I do believe I know your probably, but I should thank you for opening your mind for me. I was getting worried. Goodbye."

NOOO!

I'm immediately disconnected because my skull is a pool of pain, then it becomes muffled as I my eyesight blackens, and feel my body hit the floor, but strangly encased in metal, in a new metal at that.

No worries Master, I've got you.

[mcstringer]

My conciousness returns to this reality, and I found myself in an unfortunate situation. I was flat on by back and an energy sword was coming to my face. I also find out to my sorrow that I was no longer incased in my special metallic armor. But not one to sit around and cry, I roll out of the swordsman's reach before I become a few inches shorter. I bounce out of the roll into a standing position. I brace myself for the thrust that does not come. Either my oponent is stupid or cautious. He is probably waiting for me to through something and then close in, I would have too.... If I could access my power. I attempt to form my favorite defense, but I can not call my armor. The enforcer being no hide bound idiot sees that I can not activite my power and he does not hesitate to jump into the opening. The unknown fighter charged with the sword poised high over his head for the killing stroke. I could not block it, but like hell I was gonna roll over and play dead.

shudda guessed there was fine print...

No worries Master. You have your own powers, but you'll just have to use me for now.

Wha??

Oh shut up, and let me take over.

The next thing I know I am sitting in a theater looking at my body moving at odd angles through a theater screen.

"Well, looks like she finally snapped."

"Say huh?"

I take stock of my surroundings and think for a few seconds. I am in a theater...watching myself fight. Boy, my day just keeps getting better doesn't it.

[mcstringer]

"Popcorn?"

A strange man thrust a classic bag of popcorn near my face. I was watching a movie of me kicking ass because a woman possessed, somehow, took over my body.

"Eh, why not. Extra butter and lots of salt?"

"I don't know a Stringer that doesn't like it that way."

I take a serious handful and pull my attention away from the fight to face the Mighty Giver of the Popcorn to thank him, but my words fall short because the person giving me the movie treat could have been my father except for a few choice features. I look beyond him and I see others. All of them, man or woman, couldn't have been mistaken for anything else, but a Stringer. Some of the popcorn in my mouth fell out as it gaped open. The one that gave me the popcorn sat in obvious farmer attire: White t-shirt, straw hat, jean cover-alls and a set of sturdy boots.

"Ah, I believe we should introduce ourselves. I am J.J., and we wish to become your Excalibur. Will you have us?"

My brain froze all I could think to respond with could have fill a book, but all that came out was "Duh huh?"

[mcstringer]

"How much"

"Huh"

"What is your worth?"

"I'm gonna say this again WHA?"

"You have know clue?"

"Not a one. Oh and you can end your games. Your not my ancestors and you are not J.J."

The man sitting to the left of me calling himself J.J went from all smiles and rainbows to shock and awe, and I bet the rest of the group did something similar, also, but I was too smug to look up.

"You are projecting into my mind some way and for some reason. My usual powers have ended because I stopped taking your pills, however, you can no longer control me for the same reason. You want me for the thing I ate, that special metal don't you?"

J.J. had regained his composure as I spoke my hypothesis. He gave me a blank face and conducted cricket orcestra. Man, I would hate to play poker against this guy, unlucky for him, while manipulating me Brainchild trained me well.

"Listen, I ain't got the time for this CSI crap. I feel when you lie to me and if I wanted to I could take apart each and everyone of your brains because you trapped yourselves into MY head. Can we hurry this up because I've got to stop the metal thing controlling me from killing too many people, then escape this place, and find my family. Now...what do you company freaks want!"

I end my little rant slightly exhausted. I am even huffing out loud.