Watchmen
Title: Watchmen
Pairings: Colin/Josie, Greg/Josie, Brad/Caroline, Colin/Deb
Chapters: 1/?
Summary: It’s the story set in an alternative 1985, where the world is ticking closer to the brink of nuclear war, and a plot to eliminate a band of ex-crime fighters is instigated, but why? and by whom? It is up to two of those ex-crime fighters to investigate the plot that seems to go beyond the unthinkable.
Author’s Notes: Ok, I am not telling who the characters are, because it’s all the better the surprise when you eventually find them out :P
Yes I have been on a Watchmen binge and I felt, hey I REALLY want to do a fic to do with the film, because I love it so much :P
No Copright Intended I do not own any of the characters and..well..I hope you enjoy I guess.
I’ll try making this a weekly thing so I post every Sunday, I hope I can write enough :P
Anyway, without further ado, here it is.
WARNING: A VERY violent fic, lot's of swearing and dark things. But then again, it is Watchmen :P
P.S Pretty please can I get a tag for this? Muchly appreciated :P
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Chapter One
Images flickered and leapt across the screen, dialogue on soviets and Richard Nixon flowing around the near silent room. Smoke slowly floated upwards from the mouth of an aging man, comfortably sat back in his chair, watching with a mildly amused smile as the images continued to jump across the Technicolor screen. A glass of ice cold, honey coloured scotch was held tightly in the man’s grasp, cigar hanging loosely from the lips that had cast the same devilish grin through all of the years, that had earned him his name…Bradley Sherwood…The Comedian.
He scratched at his chest lazily, fingertips scraping the perfect circular, yellow badge attached to his robe. The badge of the smiley face, an emblem of his character, with the same devilish grin. Running his hands through his slightly greying dark brown hair, he turned slightly in his seat, a shot of brief pain running up his spine. He stretched, hearing a crack and relaxed back with a satisfied smile, taking a large drag on the thick cigar clenched in his lips. He switched channels fairly quickly onto an unimportant advert, highlighting the peaceful life. Brad leant further back into his chair, noting the calm and stillness in the ad.
Furrowing his brow suddenly, he paused, straightening up in his seat. Underneath the operatic music that had now appeared on the television screen, a dull thudding sound echoed along the corridor outside his apartment. The sound of footsteps. Turning slowly, he kept his eyes on his front door, where a shadow had now appeared to be blocking the light from his hallway that usually filtered underneath the door.
The wood suddenly splintered as it was heavily kicked open, sending the shattered shrapnel soaring across the room. A tall dark figure stood in the doorway, the light from the corridor turning the perpetrator into a menacing silhouette. Brad took a few large drags from his cigar before tossing it into the ashtray beside the sofa.
His smile suddenly faltered as the smoke fell from his lips again, his eyes focusing on the figure in front of him, sad but accepting.
“Was just a matter of time I suppose.” He breathed, slowly standing from the sofa, clenching his fists. The gloves of the intruder tightened on his fists as Brad’s eyes switched to his coffee table in front of him where a gun lay on a pile of magazines. He tipped the contents of his scotch, suddenly throwing the glass at the intruder before diving over the table, grasping the gun in hand.
He swung around as quick as quick as a flash, thrashing his gun around blindly in the darkness. He saw a hand fly out from nowhere and turned to point his gun to shoot, but the hand grabbed the pistol, the bullet firing aimlessly into the television set. Brad was suddenly lifted off his feet and smashed into the wall, crashing hard into the décor. He barely had time to recover before the hands flew at him in vicious punches. He yelped with each hit and smack, trying to throw a few back but it was no use. The masked intruder was far too fast for him.
He wheezed as the fist smacked hard into his stomach, sending him crashing into the wall behind him, before a vicious uppercut to the jaw sent the ageing muscular man of 6’4 crashing to the floor. Brad growled in angry frustration, leaping up from the shattered tiles into the intruder tackling him into the wall. He threw a punch so hard, as the intruder dodged it, his fist took a chunk of wall with it.
Brad turned quickly, throwing his fist again, screaming in pain when the intruder blocked it, clutching his fist tight. Next thing he knew, his head was pulled back and a vicious punch to the face sent him crashing through the glass table top. Brad yelled, opening his eyes, his heart catching in his chest as two hands grasped his clothed torso, literally throwing him across the room. He soared before crashing down into his table and chairs, shattering them completely with impact.
Face now drenched in blood, he picked himself up as fast as he could, spotting the kitchen knives, neatly placed in their holder on the side. Without further ado, he started grasping them, one by one, lobbing them at the intruder, but failing to hit his target as the figure dodged each blade easily. Brad whimpered slightly as he withdrew the last knife. By now, his body was aching with each punch and kick he had endured, muscles slowly tiring with every surface he’d been thrown through. He hopelessly carried on, violently swinging at the intruder with the blade. Yet still the intruder dodged and deflected every action with effortless energy, twisting Brad’s arm behind his back, grasping his hair hard and thrusting Brad’s head through the counter.
Brad fell through the shattering counter as easily as a ragdoll would fall through tissue paper, shrapnel cascading across his now completely wrecked apartment. The hands of the intruder clutched tightly at Brad’s robe pulling him to his feet.
Brad laughed hopelessly, blood covering his once handsome face, maiming his features horrifically. He laughed weakly, blood spilling from his mouth as he gazed at the attacker.
“It’s a joke…” he wheezed, the smile still firm on his face as a droplet of blood collapsed onto his shiny yellow badge. “…It’s all a fucking joke……Mother forgive me…”
And with that, Brad accepted his fate with tear filled eyes as the attacker lifted him above their own head, chucking Brad backwards through his apartment window. Shards pierced his skin as he smashed through the powerful glass his body tumbling down the several storeys until it eventually hit the ground with a sickening crunch.
Blood pooled around the still body on the floor and last but not least, the bright yellow badge hit the ground, spinning on the concrete as blood slowly swam around it, the smiling face now a distant memory of the corpse that lie next to it.
Comments are love <3
Pairings: Colin/Josie, Greg/Josie, Brad/Caroline, Colin/Deb
Chapters: 1/?
Summary: It’s the story set in an alternative 1985, where the world is ticking closer to the brink of nuclear war, and a plot to eliminate a band of ex-crime fighters is instigated, but why? and by whom? It is up to two of those ex-crime fighters to investigate the plot that seems to go beyond the unthinkable.
Author’s Notes: Ok, I am not telling who the characters are, because it’s all the better the surprise when you eventually find them out :P
Yes I have been on a Watchmen binge and I felt, hey I REALLY want to do a fic to do with the film, because I love it so much :P
No Copright Intended I do not own any of the characters and..well..I hope you enjoy I guess.
I’ll try making this a weekly thing so I post every Sunday, I hope I can write enough :P
Anyway, without further ado, here it is.
WARNING: A VERY violent fic, lot's of swearing and dark things. But then again, it is Watchmen :P
P.S Pretty please can I get a tag for this? Muchly appreciated :P
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter One
Images flickered and leapt across the screen, dialogue on soviets and Richard Nixon flowing around the near silent room. Smoke slowly floated upwards from the mouth of an aging man, comfortably sat back in his chair, watching with a mildly amused smile as the images continued to jump across the Technicolor screen. A glass of ice cold, honey coloured scotch was held tightly in the man’s grasp, cigar hanging loosely from the lips that had cast the same devilish grin through all of the years, that had earned him his name…Bradley Sherwood…The Comedian.
He scratched at his chest lazily, fingertips scraping the perfect circular, yellow badge attached to his robe. The badge of the smiley face, an emblem of his character, with the same devilish grin. Running his hands through his slightly greying dark brown hair, he turned slightly in his seat, a shot of brief pain running up his spine. He stretched, hearing a crack and relaxed back with a satisfied smile, taking a large drag on the thick cigar clenched in his lips. He switched channels fairly quickly onto an unimportant advert, highlighting the peaceful life. Brad leant further back into his chair, noting the calm and stillness in the ad.
Furrowing his brow suddenly, he paused, straightening up in his seat. Underneath the operatic music that had now appeared on the television screen, a dull thudding sound echoed along the corridor outside his apartment. The sound of footsteps. Turning slowly, he kept his eyes on his front door, where a shadow had now appeared to be blocking the light from his hallway that usually filtered underneath the door.
The wood suddenly splintered as it was heavily kicked open, sending the shattered shrapnel soaring across the room. A tall dark figure stood in the doorway, the light from the corridor turning the perpetrator into a menacing silhouette. Brad took a few large drags from his cigar before tossing it into the ashtray beside the sofa.
His smile suddenly faltered as the smoke fell from his lips again, his eyes focusing on the figure in front of him, sad but accepting.
“Was just a matter of time I suppose.” He breathed, slowly standing from the sofa, clenching his fists. The gloves of the intruder tightened on his fists as Brad’s eyes switched to his coffee table in front of him where a gun lay on a pile of magazines. He tipped the contents of his scotch, suddenly throwing the glass at the intruder before diving over the table, grasping the gun in hand.
He swung around as quick as quick as a flash, thrashing his gun around blindly in the darkness. He saw a hand fly out from nowhere and turned to point his gun to shoot, but the hand grabbed the pistol, the bullet firing aimlessly into the television set. Brad was suddenly lifted off his feet and smashed into the wall, crashing hard into the décor. He barely had time to recover before the hands flew at him in vicious punches. He yelped with each hit and smack, trying to throw a few back but it was no use. The masked intruder was far too fast for him.
He wheezed as the fist smacked hard into his stomach, sending him crashing into the wall behind him, before a vicious uppercut to the jaw sent the ageing muscular man of 6’4 crashing to the floor. Brad growled in angry frustration, leaping up from the shattered tiles into the intruder tackling him into the wall. He threw a punch so hard, as the intruder dodged it, his fist took a chunk of wall with it.
Brad turned quickly, throwing his fist again, screaming in pain when the intruder blocked it, clutching his fist tight. Next thing he knew, his head was pulled back and a vicious punch to the face sent him crashing through the glass table top. Brad yelled, opening his eyes, his heart catching in his chest as two hands grasped his clothed torso, literally throwing him across the room. He soared before crashing down into his table and chairs, shattering them completely with impact.
Face now drenched in blood, he picked himself up as fast as he could, spotting the kitchen knives, neatly placed in their holder on the side. Without further ado, he started grasping them, one by one, lobbing them at the intruder, but failing to hit his target as the figure dodged each blade easily. Brad whimpered slightly as he withdrew the last knife. By now, his body was aching with each punch and kick he had endured, muscles slowly tiring with every surface he’d been thrown through. He hopelessly carried on, violently swinging at the intruder with the blade. Yet still the intruder dodged and deflected every action with effortless energy, twisting Brad’s arm behind his back, grasping his hair hard and thrusting Brad’s head through the counter.
Brad fell through the shattering counter as easily as a ragdoll would fall through tissue paper, shrapnel cascading across his now completely wrecked apartment. The hands of the intruder clutched tightly at Brad’s robe pulling him to his feet.
Brad laughed hopelessly, blood covering his once handsome face, maiming his features horrifically. He laughed weakly, blood spilling from his mouth as he gazed at the attacker.
“It’s a joke…” he wheezed, the smile still firm on his face as a droplet of blood collapsed onto his shiny yellow badge. “…It’s all a fucking joke……Mother forgive me…”
And with that, Brad accepted his fate with tear filled eyes as the attacker lifted him above their own head, chucking Brad backwards through his apartment window. Shards pierced his skin as he smashed through the powerful glass his body tumbling down the several storeys until it eventually hit the ground with a sickening crunch.
Blood pooled around the still body on the floor and last but not least, the bright yellow badge hit the ground, spinning on the concrete as blood slowly swam around it, the smiling face now a distant memory of the corpse that lie next to it.
Comments are love <3