Monday 1st May 1893Edit
After that queer affair with the strangers under London, lost children that talk to disgusting rodents, some frightening women and ... well lots of crap.
I was quite happy to get back, have a night off the job.It's next morning and I feel right as rain. Poor Garv on the other hand still limps around the place. He's fucking loud hobbling around on crutches while im trying to read the paper in the meeting room. Then he has to get a stool so he can prop his foot up.
Belladonna comes storming in. I look at Garvin, who looks at me mirroring my facial expression: "Oh crap."
"Gentlemen, we have been robbed I tell you. The lodge kitty easily had £50 in it, but someone must have took the notes just before we left the tunnel." Says Doc. "Dosh, Dosh, Dosh" was all I could hear while she gassed, "More goods for Rigg!" was being screamed in my head as my fingers began to twitch, just like when I stole the kitty's loot.
It's all too late. Doc being the observant woman she is, notices my problem with my fingers. "Something wrong with your implants Mr Jensen?" "hmmn what Doc, oh no, just a bit nippy in here, is all" I answer, as I try to hide my fingers mimicking counting notes, by rubbing them together and breathing on them. Garvin and Belladona look at me, then at each other, then back to my hands. They twigged it.
"Anyway Mr Jensen, I have in my operating theatre something you would be most interested in..." she says before I interupt.
"It wasn't me Doc, its these hands, they are more trouble than they're worth." There was a slight pause, Doc seemed hurt, maybe because it was her first attempt at ripping. "Yes... but I have the materials that were gathered from a mission and I could upgrade your hands to become sharp objects instead of blunt weapons."
My poor attempt at an innocent face then turned more thoughtful. "So how do they work then Doc, I can't walk around with sharp objects on the end of my hands all the time can I?" "No Mr Jensen, you wouldn't get far in todays society if they were that obvious." She looks down painfully "These weapons would hide during the day, but when there was a transference of Lunar light, this would cause the fused bones in your knuckles to depart slightly to allow a sharp set of new bones to erupt from your skin", she explains, taking short breath's. "Only problem with this is the pain from this operation and use of these weapons are rather painful." Chuckling I remind her "You know Doc, I'm quite use to the pain by now. Besides what can be worse than having a corkscrew being used on you." Turning and laughing with Garvin, I'm almost tempted to slap his foot in jest.
With a serious, philosophical look Doc corrects "No Mr Jensen. This will be more painful then your previous upgrades. The procedure requires you to be lightly sedated, because I have to recorrect your nerves to trigger the retraction of the mechanism."
"Go on do it. You can stand pretty much most of the pain, corkscrew or no corkscrew. Besides getting a jab to the ribs will most likely be a puncture to the lung. More of a finding the weak spot kind of upgrade" I thought.
Mark Twice, Cut OnceEdit
Later that night, the Doc was filling me in on the procedure. The materials were a few days old, so she had to act quickly. However the longest part of the operation was connecting the nerves, which required finding them in me first. So the plan was, she would remove my hands first, so I could stop having the shakes, then prep me for the new ones, followed by sawing them off the werewolf when it was night time. This meant the bones would be at their longest under the moon light. This meant we were working through the night. For the first part, the removal of the gambler's hands, I wasn't with it, but I awoke and propped myself up on the table. I tried to steady myself but couldn't because I was stumpped. "Feel free to get some refreshments while I work on this Mr Jensen." She said whislt she was bent over her werewolf, with her back to me saw in hand. "Will do Doc" I replied. However, trying to drink out of tumbler with no hands ain't no joke. "Think I'll wait for that drink Doc."
Towards 11pm Doc had finished removing the werewolf's claws. A row of six lying on a metal tray next to her side, while she sat next to me.
Through The NightEdit
"Right Mr Jensen. Let's begin." At first things just stung here or there, but then she started cutting deeper.
"Say yes if you can feel me pressing with this device of mine" She instructed, "Right Doc" I grinned while trying to nod, but unable because of the head restraints. My breathing began to increase, my ribcage making the leather straps creak.
"Yes" It built up. "Take another breath" I thought.
"Yes" Sweat dripped off my nose, the hot lamps were stinging me eyes.
"Yes" The pain began to feel cold, as the cuts got deeper. Doc got some guaze and wiped some blood away.
"Yes" I closed my eyes. "The lights hurting my eyes Doc" She said nothing to me.
"Yeas" I listened to the noises. My heart beat, my irregular breathes. The interupting of my teeth while the strain on my jaw stretched my lips.
"Yeah" In the blackness of my thoughts my mind wandered to when i was fighting the beast. If I had these claws back then, would they have worked in that arena. Would I have injured it more?
"Grrrrr" The pain was really setting in. Still with my eyes closed, I could hear thuds. Similar to a heart beat, but different to a mans. The awkwardness of the beast made it obvious where it was gona hit me, but the force was too much.
"Argh" I screamed aloud. As Doc messed with my wrist.
"That's it focus on the pain Rigg. Remember the movements of the beast. Find the weaknesses." I heard in my head.
I began to froth at the mouth, my teeth felt bruised, my jaw was hot, but my body was cold.
"Mr Jensen I know it's painful ..."
"YES" I screamed. Doc ignored it and carried on, grabbing another clamp, using it and then placing it gently to the side.
"Soldier on, not long now, stop deluding yourself. This is an upgrade. This will make you a better fighter "I'll be ... fighter" I repeated. "Gotta get it, gotta get it" I echoed around the operating theatre. "Rigsy's going to have a lot of fun with these new toys!" Was screamed in my head. It began laughing.
"A bit of this will take you out of the delirium, try to think of something pleasant to take your mind off things" The voices stopped.
I opened my eyes. I'm in an empty arena. Then a split second later it's full, the torches are burning; I'm laying into some guy with side burns; the room is drowned in laughter, Irish music and me and him breathing.
In my head I can hear "yes" whispered. But take no notice of it.
I take a deep breath. I'm in a new place which looks like something the gang would spend a night in, dark men looking for trouble, the air of soemthing will go down. Garvin is there with me, but across the room waiting in his big coat. He gives a nod to his left where Sir Bobby is standing, blending in as the rich gentlemen looking for a good time. In between us all, are some of Red Sash's men on the corner of a building.
I blink and I'm back in the ring. The guy kicks some sand in my face but I'm underdetterd. He tried to get my guard lower by jabbing me just above the belt, so he can get a good whack to the face. I tense up and take the pain, head shielded by my hands. I block out the environment.
Garvin nods for the go ahead. Back with the Sash thugs I start walking in slowly, then quickening my pace, then going to a march. One of them comes towards me, I punch his neck and pierce his wind pipe,"yes". I pull my fist back, next guy who approaches gets a slash across the face, he collapes on the floor from the shock. "Yes." The last guy comes in over the top of me and I extend both fists and claws into his chest. His expression turns white and limp. He desperately grasps at my hands, flapping like a drowning fish. I grin at his displeasure, yelling yes!. Slowly I hoist him up and impail him. I exhale (yeaaaaasss) from the explosive workout I've just had.
In the ring, this exhale works against me. The guy winds me in the chest and clouts me around the ear with his elbow. The crowd suddenly flood in, crying out "oh" as I gather my footing. Ear ringing, eyes dazed, I straighten up just in time to block his follow up. Jab to the face, blocked, cleave at the ribs glance off. His momentum keeps him going past me. I take my moment. Round house his right shoudler blade. "Yes!" When the fist touches his back I extend a claw in and puncture the top of his lung. He gasps for air as I circle around, opening my hands and raising my arms above my head. The crowd think I'm encouraging them, but I'm retracting my claws shouting at them "Yes. Yes!" Glaring at them like an animal.
The crowd begin to chant "Rig. Rig. Rig"
Meanwhile back with the Sash goons, the one that had his face cut, is scrambling away from me, trying to get to his feet but not finding his footing, so he scrapes his body along the floor towards the wall to prop himself up. The satisfaction from his friend I have just thrown on the floor, blood dripping from my hands. I stretch my hands to retract them. Even though the slim man is holding his face, shaking his head and mouthing no, all I can hear is satisfied, whispers, being exhaled "yes." As I charge, I wind my arm up for a swing at the guy and smack his head against the wall. He slumps to the ground, but I'm not done.
"More fun can be had. He should have known more fun was coming" was all I could hear as I grasped his head with my hands and smacked his skull repeatedly against the brick "I need more. Give me more" I screamed. "Yes I want more, I need more."
The crowd. Back at the ring. Spinning around me, stop calling me Rig.
"Kill, Kill, Kill" they scream as the guy, next to me on his knees, gasping for air, sqwabbling to reach the hole that is on his back sways there waitng. Waiting for it all. All to end in one rush. "Yes" I bellow in the arena, as I circle around the back of him, line my fist up with his head, giving him a soldiers death and turn his lights out.
"That's the way. Yes fun will be had. Oh yes it will"
"Yes" I hear hissed.
Tuesday 2nd May, 1893Edit
Waking up on the table. it takes a while for my eyes adjust to the light. The lamp nearby seems a lot less fierce than it was before. Doc is asleeep slumped at her desk.
In the early hours of the morning when I wake again, my arms feel like lead weights. Doc is sipping a warm drink, steam lightly flowing above the cup "Morning Mr Jensen" she greets "how are you feeling?" The queston baffles me. I'm still not accustomed to her needing to know all this information all the time, but she has assured me previously "details great and small most be noted."
"A little groggy but nothing out of the ordinary" I infrom her. Which to my surpise she doesn't write down. "That's just part of the drugs and recovery." Putting her cup down, she says "Now. There is still a bit of lunar light from the basement window over there as it isn't quite sunrise yet. The way these claws work is by instinct..." she starts to explain, much like a a boy would lesson, when he had done something wrong. "Instinct is what I do best Doc" I gloat. Raising my arms, I tense the fists in the moonlight, which occurs slowly, then some dark yellow shapes shred the bandages and stain them a dark crimson. "Yes, well, I didn't mean now, because you need to recover" as she continues, I'm already doing what I had been doing in the fights. Stretching my hands out, making the claws slowly submerge beneth my skin leaving three bloody holes on my knuckles. My hands are bruised even though I haven't had them that long. They become bathed in red. Like they are an overflowing beer bottle. These hands are christened mine.
"Yeah thinking of things I don't do, knowing things I do do Doc." I say grinning.