(no subject)
At high noon the CLF strikes again.
Five black vans meet at the intersection of Michigan Avenue and Congress Parkway and park to obstruct traffic. The leader van pulls up under one of the streetlights and men get out, wearing plain clothing and ski masks. They pull another figured from the car, struggling, with a bag over his head, his body hidden with trash bags.
A few of the men start throwing long ropes over the arm of the traffic lights. Another one climbs on top of the van with a megaphone, and from the other vans people with digital video cameras tape him from all angles.
"People of Chicago!" he yells through the megaphone. "Do you think you are safe? This city is not safe, and it's not you or I or any of the loyal citizens who have made it this way! Our city is being poisoned and destroyed from the inside by a plague that calls itself 'Wanderers'. They have been an invisible threat to us for too long!"
His goon buddies haul on ropes attached to the figure's wrists, hoisting him like a flag until he hangs just below the streetlights, arms spread and wrenched. He kicks out, tugging at the ropes, bucking and struggling as the goons find ways to secure him. One long cord hangs down from the bag on his head and the garbage bags.
"We're going to show you the face of the enemy," microphone man says. "Behold the face of the Wanderers!"
At his signal one of the men takes the cord and tears down on it, splitting the bags over the Wanderer's back and pulling off the one on his head. Bucking and twisting above Chicago, now, for everyone to see, is Raziel, blue and skeletal and grotesque in the harsh light of day.
"Wanderers… Freaks… Illegal aliens!" the man with the microphone yells. "This is what skulks on Chicago's streets! The Chicago Liberation Front is fighting a war to protect the people of Chicago! Wanderers aren't welcome here!"
He jumps down and climbs into the van. Before police can come all the vans turn and drive off down East Congress leaving Raziel to struggle on the ropes.
Five black vans meet at the intersection of Michigan Avenue and Congress Parkway and park to obstruct traffic. The leader van pulls up under one of the streetlights and men get out, wearing plain clothing and ski masks. They pull another figured from the car, struggling, with a bag over his head, his body hidden with trash bags.
A few of the men start throwing long ropes over the arm of the traffic lights. Another one climbs on top of the van with a megaphone, and from the other vans people with digital video cameras tape him from all angles.
"People of Chicago!" he yells through the megaphone. "Do you think you are safe? This city is not safe, and it's not you or I or any of the loyal citizens who have made it this way! Our city is being poisoned and destroyed from the inside by a plague that calls itself 'Wanderers'. They have been an invisible threat to us for too long!"
His goon buddies haul on ropes attached to the figure's wrists, hoisting him like a flag until he hangs just below the streetlights, arms spread and wrenched. He kicks out, tugging at the ropes, bucking and struggling as the goons find ways to secure him. One long cord hangs down from the bag on his head and the garbage bags.
"We're going to show you the face of the enemy," microphone man says. "Behold the face of the Wanderers!"
At his signal one of the men takes the cord and tears down on it, splitting the bags over the Wanderer's back and pulling off the one on his head. Bucking and twisting above Chicago, now, for everyone to see, is Raziel, blue and skeletal and grotesque in the harsh light of day.
"Wanderers… Freaks… Illegal aliens!" the man with the microphone yells. "This is what skulks on Chicago's streets! The Chicago Liberation Front is fighting a war to protect the people of Chicago! Wanderers aren't welcome here!"
He jumps down and climbs into the van. Before police can come all the vans turn and drive off down East Congress leaving Raziel to struggle on the ropes.