Godfist Legend: Zero7 Chapter 2 from Guest Writer Willie J. Phillips

Please welcome back the work of my friend, Willie J. Phillips of Durham, NC. Willie is a talented author, artist and rap artist. He is the driving force behind a local hip-hop group, Shadowstar ex-Machina, whose lyrics are thought-provoking and whose music is as professionally stunning as any that I have heard from major labels.

This post is the second in a series of chapters of Willie’s science-fiction martial arts novella, Godfist Legend: Zero7. This work is not HIV related, but it seemed to me that I could promote Willie’s work as a ally of the HIV community and as my friend. This work should offer a bit of a diversion from the usual HIV related posts for our readers. Please let us know what you think. Subsequent chapters will be posted in future months.

All images and the text in these posts are copyrighted by Willie J. Phillips. You can click on any image to enlarge it for viewing. To learn more about Willie or his music, Shadowstar ex Machina, please click here to email Willie directly.

Click to view chapter one first.

Ron Hudson

Godfist Legend: Zero7 Chapter 2

Standing behind the technician is lasting longer than i thought. He has no idea of my presence being so close to him as he prepares his tools for naught. The 4000th Year Fist downloaded a 'masking' file some weeks ago during a very short assignment...I don't even remember who I killed, or why. "We are ready, Mister Crashe?" the man mumbles to my assistant whose presence has also been masked. This is too delicious! My mouth is beginning to moisten at the thought of an effortless escape without incident. Why are there no cameras? Because this facility isn't supposed to exist; the last thing you'd want to happen is some muckraking journalist somehow acquiring surveillance tapes of a 'reinsertion' procedure. Sweet irony...sweet, SWEET revenge! He turns his head ever so slightly to notify the hidden technician that he's ready, then turns completely to face his doom...ME!!

"N..n..n..no...!" The potential scream is cut off by my 'dragonfist' wedged between his rows of teeth, muffling his choked voice with a little chi. I look to the table at his tools of betrayal; hooked and split-head needles larger than any needed for sewing, various syringes full of drugs that could erase the whole of your existence, and spiked platelets...? The sight of the gleaming platelets jostles my mind. they're flesh colored...my flesh. Discovery and desire lap at my brain like waves breaking against the shore-line. An emptiness overtakes me, and I feel the solid blankness of something that wasn't originally part of my body....in my back...intertwined with the muscles and spinal column. Its electronic surges have mimicked my body's own natural synapses for so long that they felt normal until now. Now, the foreign implement stood out like a child molester in pre-school, and it INFURIATES ME!! What else have they grafted into me!? Where else has my body been augmented to suit the desires of the Golden Triumvirate!? My fingers spread open in the man's mouth, the chi slowly churning and gaining size and intensity. The heat of it causes steam to pour from the helpless technician's face, but a swift exchange of thought forces the man's voice to snuff out at every attempted scream. The ecstasy of his despair washes over me like summer rain. It's almost pornographic the way it makes me feel. "DO NOT LOSE FOCUS!"

That was not my mental scolding, that was the Fist! But, it's only supposed to support me during my forced assassination missions. Why was it helping me in my disobedience? It was surprise enough to know that the 'acquirement protocol' still functioned, but now the underlying 'metaphysical/psychological support system' is kicking in. Completion, I feel it. I don't need to ask this helpless man anything! My single assistant and I are enough for my travels, so this man can die. One last surge of chi forces my hand to open completely within the technician's tightening jowls and the steam becomes red-tinted. Does he think i care that he's crying? I DO NOT!! Too many times was I under his tools and weapons grade drugs, and damn him if he thinks it's unfair! The ONLY reason this other technician is living is because he was the one who freed me. Honestly, my instincts are still a little haywire and want me to murder my helper in the worst way possible, but I know better. Instead, I'll drink in this sucker's fear, watch his blood saturate the chi forcing its way from his face. Burns appear and skin smokes as the end approaches. "I want you to feel this...the way I killed so many in my stealth missions. Don't cry, bastard. You did this to yourself!"

With that, the head implodes as I force his flailing rag-doll body into the opposite wall. The impact causes the room to shake, as blood covers almost everything on that side of the room. My captive assistant squeaks while covering his mouth as an ear lands in a puddle of blood directly in front of him. "Dear god...what did we create?" he whispers to himself. I don't have enough ego to answer him, I just direct him to the exit. And no, I don't think it'll be that easy. I figured out what the spiked platelets are.

They're racking devices, monitoring and reporting every move...every kill...every twist of muscle...and every single word...

Click here to go to chapter one.

Click here to proceed to chapter three.


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