KH-Vids Royale: Epilogue *tear* KH-Vids Royale is finally over. I can now present you with the Epilogue, the final wondrous chapter of the book. This is a sad moment. But it's not that bad since I'll be posting KHVR II in about 5 minutes. Actually, no. So, enjoy, please comment, please tell me how you fel about KHVR, since this is the end of I as we know it. Thank you all. WARNING: Violent and sad. ------------------------------------------------------------ Epilogue An old man, wearing overalls and a pin striped shirt, was smoking a pipe as he sat in a road side grill. He was somewhere in South America, and the white whiskers around his mouth were an odd contrast to his darkly tanned face. The grill was called ‘El Chupacabra Roadside’ which meant something along the lines of ‘The Beast’s Hidden Grill.’ But the old man didn’t care what it translated to in English. He couldn’t speak English anyway. If he could, he’d be the happiest man in the world. He could leave behind his red sand and cactus life for a new one in the big cities of America. Everyone dreamed of going to the United States. The money was easy, there was a strong middle class, and the government was effectively working to help the nation in every way possible. That was just not life where he was living. A Latino woman in a blue dress and white apron walked up to the man. Red lipstick covered her mouth, her eyes with dark mascara circled around them. Her long black hair was bundled up behind her head in a large bun. She collected his menu and asked him in Spanish, “What would you like to eat sir? Have you taken a look at our special soups or meals of the day yet? Today’s soup is Chili Rice, mixed with mint herbs. It also comes with extra crackers. Unfortunately, we don’t have a special meal today.” The man replied, also in Spanish, “I’d just like a cheeseburger with fries please, and could you please use a bun with no sesame seeds on it? I don’t want to turn out positive during drug tests or anything like that.” “Ci,” the woman walked off toward the counter, where you could see overweight chefs cooking what would be a greasy and fattening (yet delicious) meal. The place itself was plain grimy, from the seats to the tables to the floors. Everything had an aura of sickness about it. The man was scared he would catch a disease in the rotten place. Some black liquid was on the floor to his left. Several pickles were stuck to the bottom of a table, and where he was sitting a layer of muck covered the eating surface placed in front of him. It was truly disgusting. “NEWS ALERT!” screamed the television hanging in the top right corner of the grill. There were television sets all around the room, but the easiest for the man to see was the one on the far wall of the restaurant. Several other heads turned to look at the screen, along with others in the restaurant looking at different TVs, all hanging from a steel ceiling, along with steel walls and large oval windows. The channel itself was broadcasting in English, but Spanish subtitles scrolled along the bottom of the screen as the man spoke. They were small and white, and would change quickly. The man, though, was literate in Spanish, and found it easy to read them. It was the ‘Fox’ (Fox 2 to be exact) channel, but the old man had no clue what that meant as the waitress set a large glass cup of chilled coke in front of him. The only television channels he knew were one; which was the local news, and three; which was the channel his mother would watch. As a farmer, he himself did not own a TV, and enjoyed watching them whenever he could. The cup was misty, and the old man felt joy to feel the moisture spread through his mouth as he took a long sip. His taste buds were happy - for the moment, so he tuned back in to the news report. Watching the television was a relief, he’d been watering his crops all day (a dry spell had recently come through) and one of his pigs had given birth to two new piglets. As proud as he was, it felt great to be able to sit back and take a drink. There was a picture on the television screen of an island, and charred buildings were shown. There was a room that had been completely destroyed in an explosion. Bullet holes were seen in the wall of a building. Blood was dripping from a sharp wire that hung in a door way. Two men in black jackets that read ‘FBI’ on the back in big yellow letters were hauling a body onto a truck large truck. Other bodies seemed to be stacked on top of each other in a big pile, all located in the big compartment of the automobile. The two men then walked off to grab what looked like another body, but the old farmer was unable to see for sure as the camera switched to a news reporter in his mid 40s, folding papers. “This is where the ‘game’ as they called it, was held. To try and eradicate the juvenile delinquents of the world, the US of A held the battle where they pitted 30 members of an online community against each other. This was no ordinary battle, this was a fight to the death, and until one remained. But the plan backfired,” said a white reporter, his hair parted in a perfect 5:3 ratio. The subtitles that were just on the screen disappeared as he paused to shuffle the papers in front of him. Behind him in a smaller box was the image of a girl lying face down on the road, blood surrounding her head in a pool. The large red words ‘US Scandal’ were written across the bottom of the screen. Of course, the old man in the seat never read this, as he was illiterate in English - but he was able to read the disturbing subtitles. “The government dumped the youths on this island located somewhere in the Mackinac Straights. The exact name of the island was disclosed, but whatever the US was thinking they weren’t thinking straight. They obviously hadn’t gone that extra mile with security features, because something happened in that game,” said the man, swiveling in his chair to face the camera as a new angle was set. His face was completely serious, even more so than the normal news reporter would be whilst giving news. “The winner of the game decided to take it all the way. Sara (kh-vids.net administrator, kh-vids.net forum, kh-vids.net, Girl No. 2), one of the participants, ended up winning the massive duel. Supposedly, while traveling on a boat to get home, she killed the crew and the forum leader Deathspank before steering the boat on a crash course. Deathspank was the leader of the ‘game’, called the Impertinent Youths Annihilation Act, IYAP, although now foreign countries have started to adopt this new system and the name is being changed to ‘International Youths Removal System’, IYRS. IYRS has been adopted by more than 40 countries already, all which are setting up ‘games’. But after what has happened with this one, must new steps be made to protect the world from delinquents?” Now behind the reporter was a boat that had been crashed on some rocks. More men with black jackets that read ‘FBI’ on them were walking around the boat, examining it from many various angles. Wooden planks littered the area, and the boat was on its side. The men were wading through water, grabbing pieces of debris. A body was washed up on the beach, laying there without anyone going near it. The man put down his cheeseburger and started watching intently. Others around the roadside restaurant mimicked him. All heads were turned to the TVs, including the chefs, waiters and waitresses’ “Sara (the TV then showed a picture of a girl with long black hair. She looked miserable as if she was in a mug shot. The words ‘winner’ were pasted in yellow under her face) has yet to be found. It is rumored that she has traveled to South America and is planning on fleeing across seas. But that’s not all. Many countries are outraged with what the U.S.A. has done, and many countries have launched war on them. With 192 countries in the world, and only 40 countries adopting the new system, it is bound to be that all these countries will eventually be destroyed. World masterminds that have not adopted the IRYS system are Russia, all of South America, and all of Europe. India and China have also not adopted the system. Countries like Japan, Iran, Iraq, most Middle Eastern countries and a few 3rd world African countries have adopted the terrible system. Is this the spark for a World War 3? Sara is at large with charges of Federal Misconduct, Breaking and Entering, and First Degree and Second Degree murder.” The camera returned to the reporter with the 5:3 ratio hair, and zoomed up on his face. “If you have seen this girl, please call the police immediately. There is a reward for those who find her. She is deemed armed and dangerous, and wanting to kill. If you have any information, then call the police immediately.” The man looked around the restaurant. Everyone else had their eyes glued to the TV except for one person. Whoever they were, they were wearing an overly large coat and had a blue cap pulled down over their eyes. Long black hair streamed from the back of the hat. Something triggered in the back of the old man’s head. There was something about this girl that didn’t seem right. She was too white, and looked like she hadn’t been in the South American area for long at all. And there was something else weird about her - under the faint hood he saw her lips form into a small smile. The old man realized he had found that girl; Sara was the name he had heard many times. Knowing what must be done; he got up and hobbled toward the counter where a pay phone was located. It had free phone calls to the police, so he quickly dialed the familiar number. The black phone, bolted to a thick metal cord, vibrated softly as the police telephone line ran once, twice, and then a lady’s voice was heard. She spoke politely and loudly. “Hello, this is the SA protection and services police hotline, how may I help you?” said the lady. The man could hear more phones ringing in the background and the shuffling of papers. “I believe I have some information on this escapee girl called Sara,” said the farmer. His voice was hoarse and raspy - he smoked too much. But it wasn’t his fault. Scientists say that it takes a full three weeks to develop a habit, but the old farmer felt like it had been mere days to become hooked on nicotine. This wasn’t a bother to him though, but sometimes he would get annoyed when his peers couldn’t understand what he was saying due to the quiet, soft tones he would make with his voice. “You have some information?” began the lady, her tone changed from happy to serious immediately. “Please give us all you’ve got. Anything would be helpful at the moment.” “Well,” started the old man. “I’m at the El Chupacabra Roadside restaurant, the one on the main road through the desert. There’s a gas station and car repair garage outside of it. Well, I think the girl is here, although I’m not sure.” “What does she look like?” asked the police operator. “She had long black hair. It falls down her back. Her face seems kind of pale, although it’s hard to see because she’s wearing a blue cap down over her face. There’s also a gray hoodie draped around her shoulders, but she isn’t wearing it. Around her torso is a blue shirt that says some English words on it. Does this sound like her?” “Just a moment!” said the woman in a hurry. The old man listened to the bustle of feet on the other end of the phone. There was shouting and then some loud footsteps echoed through the phone receiver. More voices, loud and gruff, grunted some Spanish words. Something smashed and then the lady was back on the phone. “Thank you for your information, sir, we have police on the way right now,” said the woman. Then the phone clicked and went dead. The old man made stiff strides toward his mucky table, until he sat down and took a sip of his delicious drink. He looked over at the girl, who was looking back at him. Her eyes searched him - prying at him and delving into his deepest secrets. He felt intimidated, but turned away from her to look out the window. Was this really the girl? If it was, maybe he’d get a handsome reward. He could finally move out of this god forsaken country. Looking out the perfectly clear window, he saw other Mexican people loading their cars with gas. One child was helping his mother hold the gas pump. A man in a business suit was fumbling with his coins whilst trying to insert them into the machine. Another drove out of the small area, leaving a path of dust in his wake. Behind that was a picturesque scene - dark red and tan colored sand with cactus plants growing in random spots. In the distance were the outlines of some mountains, jagged like the edge of a broken piece of glass. These were dark red, and above was an extremely bright golden sun. It was the typical hot weather of the lower continent. The old man faintly smiled as he looked at the scene. His country really was quite beautiful, and he had such strong pride in his country too. But his smile grew even wider as he heard the soft sound of a police siren in the distance. Looking at the girl in the corner, he saw her eyes grow wide. He knew she had realized who was coming. The police; and they were coming for her. The old man lit up as he felt the cash bills in his hands, hundreds of them. That’s when she made her move. Jumping up from the table, she charged for the glass entrance door with a sign that read ‘open’ on it. The old man didn’t want this prey to get loose, so he jumped at her with all his might. She turned to see him and pulled out a small knife. Her arm moved in a wide arc and thrust toward him. It cut into his hand, and he felt his middle and index fingers become detached from his body. Blood flew into the air from the open wounds, and his fingers fell to the grimy floor. The man landed on the floor with a loud crash and felt something in his waist crack. He watched as the girl turned to look at him before storming out the door. In her eye was a look of pity, a look of sorrow. But there was also hatred in her eyes, and a hidden fear. The old man burned the image of her eyes into his mind, realizing his fault. By calling the police he had made a mistake. Because in those girl’s eyes he had seen so many emotions and feeling, from lust to excitement to determination; he had realized what the most dominant feeling in her eyes was. It was the look of innocence. People rushed from their seats and picked up the old man. He didn’t feel any of their grabbing hands as his gazed was transfixed on the girl charging across the gas station parking lot and jumping into a top down car. He no longer felt the pain of his bleeding knuckles, with amputated fingers laying on the floor next to him, or the shattered bone in his hip that was a cause of osteoporosis. He had made the biggest mistake of his life by calling the police; and he was going to pay the price. The man shed a single tear. Sara burst out of the roadside grill to feel fresh air on her face. ‘That place was pretty dirty,’ she thought to herself. ‘Note to self; never, ever go back there.’ The sounds of sirens grew closer. Dust showered from her moving feet as she pounded towards her top down car, which she’d stolen from a local dealer. People all around - from the gas station to the auto parts garage - were staring at her. Many were pointing and whispering, but Sara no longer cared about their remarks. She had to escape… or else she would probably be killed - or at least captured and sent back to horrible America. The America that had killed her Arc. She leaped into the front seat of the car and jammed the keys into the slot. Turning on the car, the engine leaped to life as vibrations emanated throughout the automobile. Her foot stomped the pedal, and the car slid and squealed before firing out of the sand parking lot like a bullet out of a cannon. It shot into the main road, and she gave a sharp right and drifted into position. Looking back, police cars were right behind her. The day would have been so beautiful if not for the crazy car chase. The sun was shining beautifully, everything was a lovely color and it was hot but not unbearable. ‘This is the perfect weather to get a tan in,’ thought Sara. ‘But that’s kind of a stupid thought considering the situation I’m in.’ Sara heard the pop of a gun, and the windshield in front of her shattered. ‘Damn,’ she thought, ‘These guys are seriously out to kill me.’ There was another gunshot and her right rearview mirror shattered. Sara opened the front compartment of the car and pulled out a pistol. She’d robbed it from a weapon’s dealer back in southern Mexico. But now it was hers, and she was out for the hunt. Holding the wheel with one hand, she turned around and started firing the pistol. The road in front of her was straight, so all she had to do was hold her hand firm and she’d be fine. A policeman popped out of the window, and she fired the pistol in his direction. The bullet soared toward him and she heard the sound of squelching grass. She saw his body recoil from the bullet, and blood sprayed from his chest. His body hung limp out of the window and blood dripped from the open wound in his torso. She then realized that the driver of the car had a machine gun. He fired it at her wildly, shattering glass and denting metal. Sara ducked down in her seat and felt bullets whizzing though the air above her hair. The gunfire stopped, and she looked up to see the car she was driving was careening of the main road. She quickly got herself back on track (‘I need to drive more carefully!’ she thought), and looked back to see the police cop reloading his large machine gun. Two sweeping shots were fired from Sara’s pistol, which shattered the windshield of the police car. The policeman driving swerved off the road and crashed into a cactus, destroying it completely. The dead cop that was hanging out of the window next to him flew from the car, landing in the desert in a huge dust cloud. The driver immediately put the car back on the main road, and pointed the gun out of the windshield. More bullets spat out of the machine gun and Sara heard a tire on her car pop. Realizing the true danger she was in, her action was swift, but she pointed the pistol at the driver in the car and pulled the trigger. She heard a pop and looked to see the man in the car with a hole through his head. Blood spurted from the open wound. The bullet that had torn through his head went next through the headrest and shattered the back windshield. The police car, now with no drivers, swerved into the desert and down a sandy hill. That was the last time Sara ever saw it. She was looking ahead now. As she sat on her own in this small dumpy car, a thought suddenly occurred to her. The bullets, the speeding cars, her killing two police officers, this all receded from her mind as she was thinking of this one thought. She was lying on a sandy beach, in a blue bikini, and Arc was next to her. He looked at her and smiled. The sun was shining brightly and there was no one else on the beach with her. Waves lapped on the shore, and time seemed to stop as everyone else on the beach completely disappeared. It was just her and Arc… the one who had died for her. And she would never forget. As he smiled, she smiled back. Then he got up and walked towards the ocean. She simply watched as he walked, and when he reached the edge of the ocean, the figures of all the other forum members who had died only three months ago appeared with him. There was Roxas, Cin, Sora, Boris, Deathspank, Roxas-chan, Ris, Kairi, General Grievous, Angel, Xehsin, Vivi, Reien, Element, Riku, Mish, Darkwatch, Misty, Xekvin and everyone who was killed on that island. Whether they were good or evil, they were all smiling at her. Some were waving, some were clapping. Others just stood there looking at her. But tears streamed from her eyes as she saw them all, so real. She felt like she could reach out and touch them all - that they were truly there. That all the events on Mackinac Island were just a dream and here she was during the real part of that ‘week long’ vacation Deathspank had planned for them all. She wished with all her heart that the ‘game’ had all been a dream. But, she was not able to. She remembered it all - from Arc killing himself to let her win the game from watching Mish get railed by Boris from the steeple she had been hiding in. But even seeing Boris now, smiling, all friendly, even with Deathspank, she put it all behind her and became filled with joy. So she smiled back. Waving and smiling back, they all slowly disintegrated into sand; while still smiling. She watched as the sand of their bodies joined the sand of the beach. The last to go was Arc, and as his face disappeared she felt a part of her heart disappear too. ‘A million grains of sand for one soul,’ she thought. ‘One soul shouldn’t equal a million grains of sand. Each soul is worthless, but as I travel to fight this government that has done this to me… I will avenge them all.’ Then the blowing of the wind in her hair came rushing back. Now the sun was shining, but there was no ocean, just an endless sea of cactuses. Her hair blew wildly as the glass of the recently shattered windshield blew backward behind her. She smiled, because she knew that for now she was safe. Turning to the passenger seat, she could imagine Arc with her. And he, like at the beach just seconds ago, was smiling. ‘I’m on the run, that’s for sure,’ she thought. ‘But this government’s going down, I can tell you that.’ Right on. This time we’re on - all of us forum members. And we won’t stop till we’ve won. “1 forum member remaining,” But now she is a part of you.