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Oh, Well That’s Just Cruel!

Chapter 7

Conner stared blankly at his computer screen, his mind empty. He had no idea how long he’d spaced for until a knock at his bedroom door made him snap back to the real world. He let out a sigh, “Yes?” there was a pause before his door opened.

His mother walked in, visibly angry.

“Oh for fuck sakes!” Conner groaned, “What now?”

“I know you killed Ryjin, Conner. But what really infuriates me is your lack of subtlety. That Corvette causing trouble with the OPP these past weeks? That’s yours, isn’t it?” Catherine snapped.

“Why does it matter to you?” Conner laughed in disbelief. “What I do has no effect on you anymore, I am eighteen now,” he sneered.

“If that’s how you want to think, you can find another place to live!” Catherine shouted.

Conner smirked before clapping his hands together.

“Item transfer, complete…. Short Range Teleportation System; Successful.

In an instant, Conner's bedroom turned into a blank husk, with his bed, desk, and computer vanishing. Each piece of furniture disappearing in a purple flash.

“You continued with that threat, fine!” Conner shouted back. “You want me gone? Fine!” Conner spat, lifting his wrist to tap a display screen. As the house shook and vehicles roared to life in the garage, he felt a pang of hurt beneath his defiance. Years of tension boiled over in that moment.

Conner stormed out of what was once his room past his mother. Entering the garage, he approached his bike, once he mounted his bike, he felt nanites scurrying across his skin as matte black riding gear covered his body. He tapped his helmet with his right hand, hearing a metallic clack, he smirked.

Catherine watched as Conner took off out of the garage, his Corvette and Ford Raptor following closely behind him and vanishing into the fading light of dusk. She let out a long sigh, Catherine wondered if she’d over done it this time.

…

The modified H2R screamed as Conner pushed it to it’s limits, letting the bike scream out his frustrations for him, years of stress and years of hypocritical bullshit from his family. He knew he wasn’t perfect, but it was the inability for his parents and brother to acknowledge their own flaws while scrutinizing him for his own flaws, especially his apparent inability to admit fault for anything that really frayed his nerves.

Conner began navigating to one of the four hundred series highways; he wanted to run his bike’s tank dry.

He’d put up with the bullshit for long enough, his family was in no way terrible, but he knew living with them was not helping his crumbling mental state. Suicide had been on his mind since fourteen and Conner knew it had only gotten worse as he’d aged.

“CONNER!!!!” The AI shouted into his helmet for easily the one hundredth time.

“WHAT!?!?” Conner shouted back in rage.

“Your mother has called you at least seven damn times!!” The AI shouted.

“Fuck!” Conner shouted. “Just send her a message, will you? You’re better at this when I’m pissed,” he sighed.

“You know you’re going to get police attention, right?”

“DILLIGAF…” Conner said flatly.

“What? Dilygaf?” the AI chuckled.

“No, D I L L I G A F, Dilligaf…” Conner chuckled, “Do I look like I give a fuck?”

“Of course,” the AI sighed.

“Ha ha, you understand rhetorical questions now!” Conner laughed.

“Fuck you,” the AI groaned, Conner knew if it had actual eyes, it would have rolled them.

Conner let out a long sigh and let off the throttle, he knew his chance of being pursued was almost guaranteed, he’d rather have enough fuel to run if needed.

Merging into the second most right lane, Conner slowed to a more reasonable speed.

…

“Does anyone have eyes on that bike?” a voice crackled through the radio.

An officer picked up his radio before pressing the talk button, “You said they were heading Eastbound on the four-oh-one?”

The radio crackled as someone began to respond, “Uhhh, yes, last time Overwatch spotted the bike, he was headed Eastbound on Highway 401. That bike he’s on is fast, he might try to get onto the Trans-Canada Highway and travel West.”

The officer let out a long sigh before raising his radio to his mouth again, he announced his location and what direction he was headed in.

“The bike should be heading your way soon,” he heard over the radio. The radio immediately crackled to life again as not only the News Helio that had joined in, but the Police Helio spotted the bike.

…

“They’re moving Eastbound at around one hundred thirty, they must not know they are being pursued,” the camera operator said into his mic as they stayed next to the blacked out sport bike. “The rider seems to have some interesting looking gear on, it looks like the entire thing is connected into one solid suit or something.” the person behind the camera added.

…

“Don’t fucking do it!” Conner shouted as a car drifted into his lane without signalling, his eyes widened as the car collided with his bike, throwing him off. Conner heard a part of a song play through his helmet just after he was bucked off his bike.

“He hit that guardrail at half past three,”

“Oh, well that’s just cruel!” Conner said aloud just before his helmet connected with the road.

…

“Oh my God!” the reporter in the helicopter exclaimed as debris was sent flying through the air as the rider and bike slid down the road. “I’m not seeing any sparks… just what looks like rock…. What?”

The vehicle that caused the collision was knocked over two lanes, spun completely around twice and its driver wheel, front bumper and parts of the suspension were ripped clean off from the impact of the bike. Debris was scattered across the road as police cars began to swarm the area. The two helicopters began to circle the accident, the police helio kept its spotlight on the biker while the news helio kept its spotlight on the bike itself, a bike that looked far too intact for a collision like that.

“HEY! THE BIKE IS STILL RUNNING,” One officer shouted as he rushed over to the crash sight.

The idle rumble from the bike was a menacing throaty growl of a clearly very modified bike.

“What on earth…” another officer said in shock as he stared at the road. “The entire lane is destroyed, I’m looking at trenches that were gouged into the asphalt…” they added as they kicked a chunk of asphalt with their foot.

A few of the officers approached the biker and saw them lying on the ground with their fingers embedded into the asphalt, the riding gloves they had on looked to be in perfect condition and their helmet didn’t seem to have a scratch.

A loud metallic dragging sound was heard as the biker moved their leg, judging by their build and height, it was likely a male. He began getting up, yanking his hands out of the road, sending small chunks of asphalt in all directions.

“Put your hands above your head!” One officer shouted in shock as he drew his taser.

The biker laughed, a slightly distorted but distinctly male laugh, like he was speaking through a radio. “Or what? That taser won’t do shit!” he barked as lights across his riding armour blinked to life, the lights were bright red, a stark contrast against the matte black colour everywhere else.

The biker walked over to his bike, his boots clanging against the road as he walked. One of the officer’s fired their taser, but the darts just bounced off with a metallic tink sound. Picking up and mounting his bike, the biker took off, doing a wheelie as he accelerated insanely fast.

“So is anyone going to question what the hell that guy was wearing or what his bike was made out of?” the officer that fired their taser exclaimed in shock. The rest of the officers just stood staring in disbelief, no one making a move to continue the chase.

…

Conner stared blankly ahead of him, the only sounds in his garage was the popping of his bike’s exhaust. He hadn’t dismounted his bike and just stared at nothing.

“Performance Analysis; Completed…. Mark One Prototype is a success.”

“Jesus Fucking Christ…” Conner sighed as he looked down at his riding armour, riding armour was a poor title to give it. A suit of armour that he had based off of the Tek Suit MkII from ARK: Survival Evolved. The terrifying part about that dream he had had over a year ago was that he had been working on blueprints for the suit of armour before that dream.

“Do you think it’s ready for the Fusion Core test?” the AI asked as Conner continued to inspect his arms and legs.

“I haven’t even tested the fusion core yet… no.” Conner chuckled as he dismounted his bike, the sound of his boot hitting the floor echoed through the garage. “Also you have one twisted sense of humour!” he added with a laugh.

“I have no words to defend myself for song choice,” the AI said with a chuckle.

Conner stopped in front of the newest addition to his garage, the four door blacked out car sat proudly with an SRT badge on its front grille. “I can’t believe they are starting to discontinue so many fucking cars…” Conner groaned before turning away from his modified Hellcat Charger.

Entering his underground lab, Conner sat in front of his desk. He grabbed the sides of his helmet as it let out a hiss and parts of the helmet flared out. Placing the helmet on the desk next to him, he stared at it for a few seconds before turning to a computer and powering it on.

…

Conner let out a long sigh as he finished entering the parameters into his lab computer.

“Beginning fabrication of Fusion Core Prototype.”

He listened as the advanced fabricator hummed to life, the machine could 3D print almost anything besides organic material. Conner had basically built the Tek Replicator from ARK, although it didn’t look anything like it and was mostly hidden in the wall with merely a computer screen, table surface and a platform for the 3D printer to build the item on was visible.

Conner watched as a small disk-like object began to take form on the platform before turning to his helmet and picking it up. He turned away from the rays of blue light beaming from the printer nozzle and left the room. The eerie humming and thrumming becoming more faint the further he walked away.

Conner excited the elevator and stepped out into the ground floor of his garage, he glanced at his Corvette before ascending a set of five steps and opened the door into his house. He closed the door behind him and looked around the modern, open plan ground level, he glanced at the large kitchen as he stepped around the modern dining room set. The house was exactly what he liked, his armoured boots softly clanged against the quartz flooring of the kitchen and dining room.

He stepped down a single step that separated the kitchen and dining room from the living room. Conner turned his head to his left to see the stairs ascending to the second floor. A decorative pool sat beneath the stairs, the living room had carpeted flooring with a TV mounted to the left wall above a wood burning fireplace, a river rock platform extended out three feet from the front of the fireplace to catch any stray sparks from the fire.

Raising his left arm, a plate pulled back to expose a screen on his arm, he tapped at the screen and the floor to ceiling windows lining the far wall dimed and became one way, distorting the view of the backyard with a large outdoor pool and endless trees.

Conner stepped around the couch in the living room before flopping onto it and letting out a long sigh. He placed his helmet on the glass table in front of him with a clack. The palms of his gloves flared open and folded into the backs before retracting into the arms of the armour.

In just under ten seconds, the undersuit he wore under the armour bonded with his armour and turned into what looked like a basic black t-shirt, black cargo pants, black shoes, a watch on his left wrist and a nondescript black bracelet on his right wrist. His helmet transformed into a black baseball cap, his sunglasses and a mask.

“All of that tungsten and titanium condensed into this and yet it still weighs nothing,” Conner chuckled as he picked up his hat and inspected it.

“So… when do you plan on adding thrusters to the armour,” the AI questioned in genuine intrigue.

Conner’s eyes widened in surprise before collecting himself to respond. “You really think it’s ready?” he asked.

“The integrity and durability is unfathomable, you could fall into Challenger Deep of the Marianas Trench with that armour on and be completely fine.” The certainty and tone of the AI’s voice told Conner that it was not just making a guess or theory, it was stating a fact.

“You're certain?” Conner chuckled as he pulled his shirt off and tossed his belt to the side.

“More testing should be done, but yes, I am very certain.”

Conner grunted in acknowledgement before raising his hand at the TV in front of him. The TV turned on, using motion detection controls, he navigated to the news. Rolling his eyes with a sigh, he listened as yet again, the OPP was requesting any info on the now six blacked out vehicles and a sport bike that were causing them issues. He snickered to himself, it had taken law enforcement long enough to piece together the fact that each vehicle and the sport bike were owned by the same person because they all had the same Ontario “QUIET” fake plate.

Conner, being the tease he was, never had the AI drive his other vehicles with him, he wanted police to realize it was just one person with each vehicle. “I don’t understand how it took so long for them to piece it together,” he laughed.

“I don’t want to shit on your fun, but you need to be careful! Don’t get caught. If you continue acting foolish and brasen, they might try to deploy spike strips,” the AI warned. “You should think about developing a tire compound that is like the bullet proof tires from GTA Five. Experiment with rubber, Element and Antimatter.”

“Oh damn, that is a good idea!” Conner chuckled, pulling out his phone, he wrote the idea down, ignoring the slew of texts from his parents. Conner scrolled briefly through his notifications, he paused when he saw a text from Daniella.

The text read; “Can we talk? What’s your new address?”

Conner felt a slight smile grace his lips, “Computer?”

“Yes?”

“Can you go pick her up with one of my cars? I don’t care which, just one with a specialized passenger seat.”

“On it!”

Conner heard the roar of a V8 as the house shook slightly, the AI had chosen the Hellcat Charger.

Closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the couch, Conner sighed, he knew the choice he made was for the best. Of course he cared about his family, but the constant headbutting was getting too draining for Conner’s crumbling mental state. Daniella might have been the only reason he was still alive, he couldn’t bring himself to crush her soul by killing himself.

He had stared down the chamber of a few of his firearms and had been very close to pulling the trigger of his Mossberg, but his mind had always drifted back to Daniella and how selfish that would be. His friend Cameron had also, on multiple occasions, said that suicide was the cowards way out.

He remembered Cameron’s words vividly. “Do you want to be a fucking bitch and take the cowards way out, or will you be strong and push through!?”

Conner knew he would have to sort things out with his parents, but for now, he needed some space to cool off. Raising his phone, he fired off a text to his parents; “I just need some space to cool off, I feel this is for the best. I still love you, but I think it’s time I move out completely. I will never be too far, I just need some time to collect my thoughts.”

Conner sighed before dropping his phone on the couch next to him, he threw off the rest of his clothing, completely forgetting that Daniella would be arriving soon. He blinked his eyes slowly, trying to fight his fatigue, he closed his eyes, finally losing his fight and drifting off to sleep.

…

Blinking his eyes open, Conner awoke in a field of tall grass blowing softly in the wind. He sat up, raising an eyebrow in confusion before grimacing at the horrible throbbing headache and loud ringing in his ears. Around him appeared to be debris of what looked to be a helicopter.

He began looking around him, the sun was just dipping below the horizon to the West. There was a long empty road a few hundred meters in front of him travelling from North to South. The rolling hills of long grass continued beyond the reaches of his vision to the South and to the North appeared to be an endless forest of what looked to be pine or spruce trees.

Conner finally noticed the smoking and still very on fire remains of what looked to be one or two helicopters to the North West, he must have been in the helicopter before it went down. Just moving his head was making his head throb and his vision blurry. He brought his hands up to his head and conjured up a healing spell to dull his headache and mitigate the effects of his very obvious concussion.

Taking in a deep breath, Conner could feel the air, it was fairly dry and seemed a bit brisk. Rising to his feet, Conner noted what he was wearing. He was clad head to toe in black tactical gear, checking his shoulder, he spotted a blacked out Canadian flag. Conner theorized that he must be wearing some kind of special forces or special operations gear.

“All units, this is Night Stalkers Actual. Requesting status, over.” his radio crackled to life causing the large human to jump.

Conner opened his mouth and felt himself become a passenger in his own body, “This is Reaper to Actual, in the middle of a damn field with no fucking clue how far away from objective I am. Might have a mild concussion from the crash too, over.”

He heard a good portion of his squad confirm the shit they were in before one voice caught his attention more than the rest.

“This is Shade to Actual, breathing but stuck in a fucking tree, over.”

“This is Actual to all Night Stalkers, regroup with your partners then we continue with the mission, copy?”

Everyone spoke their affirmative before Conner opened a direct private channel with his squad mate, Shade.

“This is Reaper to Shade. Can you give me your grid coords, over.”

“Oh fuck off with the formalities in a private channel, Conner!” the draconic feminine voice groaned.

“Can you give me grid coords or no?” Conner asked with a sigh.

“Nope, I have to hold on to this fucking tree, my wing is impaled,” the clearly female dragon groaned in pain.

“Ah fuck, please give me something to work with!” Conner said into the radio, his voice laced with worry and concern.

Conner heard nothing over the radio but heard a noise in the direction of the forest. Looking towards the forest, he watched a stream of flame shoot into the sky from the top of one of the trees.

“I see you, just hang tight!” Conner said quickly into the radio before he gripped his rifle he hadn’t realized he was holding tight and legged it towards the treeline.

“I fucking told the pilot to not fly so high…. Now look what happened!” Shade shouted angrily over the radio. “Also, ‘Hang tight??’ Fuck you!” she laughed.

“Oh gimme a break, high stress, I wasn’t really thinking about what I was saying,” Conner chuckled.

“You never think about what you say, ever,” Shade scoffed.

“Yeah, whatever, you overgrown lizard.”

“This overgrown lizard is gonna smother you under her tail when we set up camp tonight if you keep teasing me.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time!” Conner retorted with a laugh.

The radio crackled and all Conner heard was a very deep sigh before it went dead again.

Just as Conner made it to the treeline, he began hearing distant gunfire. As Conner came to the base of the tree he thought his partner was in, his vision started to distort as all sensation faded.

Completely caught off guard by what happened, Conner opened his eyes again and realized he was in his living room. Just barely aware of the weight pressing against him, he fell back to sleep.