For those who knew Evilzone, knows that it was a unique place from the beginning. We had a nice community, active staff.
One of the things that made it so were an inside joke (there might have been a few, but I don’t quite remember the rest of them) that new people didn’t catch at the very start, but if they searched a bit, the whole story would unfold.
The joke over time transformed into a story and became a way to greet new people. One of the new people that joined Evilzone was a starting writer named Recon, and he liked the joke so much that he made a (short?) 14 chapter novel about it calling it “Dr. Noire”. Ironically the last chapter was published in 2014… actually the whole novel was made through the year 2014.
I loved the novel, so I saved all of it, and I’m going to post it here one chapter a day. Why did I wait for so long? well, honestly I didn’t think of posting it and I also had forgotten about it too…
So I suppose now with Evilzone being put to rest, it’s OK to explain what the whole thing was beforehand…
I’ll never forget the first time I met the doctor.
It was a dark and stormy night. I had just walked into the doc’s office for an inspection, but room 34C was dark and empty. Too dark. Too empty. I pulled my torch from the pocket of my trench coat and shone it over dusty bookshelves and infernal contraptions spattered with what could only be blood – whether human or animal, I didn’t know. My gaze fell upon a wall safe that had been left ajar. A portrait of the Mona Lisa. Seemed like that must be an inside joke around this place. I reached for the frame and pulled it open far enough to look inside. Empty.
I sat down in the chair facing the desk. The doctor put the Tommy gun on the desk between us and eased himself into a leather-upholstered armchair carved out of what appeared to be bone. I considered making a move for the gun, but decided against it. The good doctor had been in control from the moment I had walked into the room, and I got the feeling that he wasn’t much for making careless mistakes. Instead, I turned my eyes to the carvings on his chair. I wondered what sort of beast had sacrificed its life to yield the doctor’s furniture. Nothing holy, I was certain, and the thought made me shift uneasily. He saw me looking and smiled.
I picked my gun up on the way out. The hall was empty, and so was the elevator, so I lit up another cigarette despite the prominent no smoking sign above the panel. I’ll admit it. I was shaken. Here I was, the best PI in New York, and I’d been handed my ass by an elderly gentleman with a Tommy gun. Now I was off on some godforsaken mission to kidnap a dame so that he could torture her. At least I was getting paid. The problem was, I wasn’t sure if that made me some kind of low-life bounty hunter or not. I reckoned it didn’t, seeing as he was threatening my family. Any sane man would have made the choice I did. But telling myself that didn’t do a whole lot of good.
“Damn it, Naissance, you’re doing his dirty work for him.” I said to myself, chomping down on the cigarette. I bashed the door open button impatiently as I reached the bottom floor. When the stupid thing finally decided to open itself, I blitzed past the secretary and the desk guard. The latter said something to me about the smoking, but I didn’t hear him properly or ask him to repeat it. I just left.
I woke at 11:14 and checked on the girl. Finding her still out cold, I roved downstairs for a sandwich and a cup of joe, then took a smoke to clear my head. Sitting down with the crossword and a glass of scotch, I began to think.
The doc had no idea that I had the girl. He’d probably expect it to take a day or two for me to track her down and catch her, at the very least. He’d probably also expect me to hide her once I had her, but as long as I was inside of his predictions, I’d have time to work with. Not a lot, mind you, but perhaps enough to get the girl to talk. If she’d been following Phain, it seemed likely she might have intel on him that I could use to my advantage. I wondered how I might be able to do it.
As I was finishing the crossword, I heard movement upstairs and decided to pay the girl a visit. Perhaps I could entice her to talk with a little bit of careful persuasion. If not, well, I had other methods. The doc might have started this, but I intended to finish it, one way or another. I climbed the stairs to the bedroom and went in, drawing the tranquilizer gun as I strode across to the closet.
I followed her into the bedroom, thrown off by her sudden shift in demeanor. One minute she had been vulnerable, broken; the next confident and self-assured, as though the pain I had put her through was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. I wasn’t sure what that meant. One, she could have been playing me from the beginning, aiming to use me as a tool to help her find her sister. Two, I’d done serious mental and emotional damage, and she was just good at hiding it. Probably unhealthy. The third and last option was that she was somehow able to get over being tortured; perhaps she had been trained to withstand high amounts of pain and was just incredibly resilient. I hoped it was the third option. In spite of the fact that I was gunning for her sister, I still reckoned I would rather work together with Agent Blanchez than I would with Doctor Phain. The man gave me the shivers.
She sat on the bed and drew her knees up to her chest – a posture that I recognized as subconsciously defensive. She felt threatened and perhaps vulnerable. That would make sense. She was a young woman and I was an older and much more experienced man. Although she said she was CIA, that didn’t mean she was a veteran. For all I knew, she could be on her first mission. In fact, I found it likely that her superiors had no idea she was here, or else were choosing to ignore her little venture. Either that or she was playing me. I decided to reserve judgement.
I reached for my Model 29, but the cold press of a Glock in my side stopped me. I slowly put my hands back on the table, letting out a sigh. I knew when I was beat.
The dame reached into my pockets and inside my jacket, putting my Model 29 and 1911A on the table along with the tranq gun the doctor had given me. Taking the clips out, she tossed them to her sister, leaving the empty weapons on the table. Sophia strode over and retrieved the doctor’s tranq gun. She studied it carefully.
“Recognize the craftsmanship, Jerry?” she asked, and he nodded.
“Doctor Noire. I’d heard legends, but I’ve never seen any evidence to back them up. Until now, that is.”
“Mordred Phain is his real name, or at least as real as we can tell. We don’t know anything about his background.”
“Then why does he think you’re after him?” I asked. She looked at me in surprise, and her tone was one of utter incredulity.
“You spoke with him?”
“We’ll take him by surprise,” Maria said. “He may already know that we’re twins, but since Sophia’s going in it shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll be set up with a fifty-cal suppressor some two hundred yards away, on this rooftop across the quad. I’ll have a thermal scope, so don’t worry about giving me a line of sight. I can see the whole office. If he balks, I’ll put a round into his arm, make him easier to take. Once he’s out of the picture the SWAT team will come in and secure the area. Any questions?”
I shook my head, fastening my handcuffs around Sophia’s wrists. I drew my tranq gun and pressed it into her back.
“Hit me,” she said.
“Hit me,” she repeated. “Nice and hard. It has to look like you knocked me out.”
I stepped towards Sophia and examined her. Neither of us spoke; she glared at me through tears of fear and frustration and I ran my eyes lingeringly over her body. She was beautiful, and helpless. I felt my blood grow hot within my veins, a throbbing pulse that forced my breath to ragged gasps. My every muscle tensed in pure anticipation. Slowly, like a beast of prey about to throw its body forward in a violent, deadly pounce, I crept towards her. I could hear the cadence of her breath, a panicked, shallow rhythm born of terror at her utter inability to sway her fate, and as I leaned my body over hers and let my hand caress the smooth, soft skin above her breast, I heard her gasp in pleasure and surprise.
Her composure seemed at once to leave her as I slid my left arm behind her and my right to her own wrist, drawing her into a tight embrace. She fought me, and I unlocked the cuff, pinning her wrist to the table. She struggled, and I chastised her.
I took a long, slow draw of cigarette smoke, holding it deep within my lungs before exhaling it into the cool morning air. The sky was a clear and brilliant blue, and as the tendrils wreathed around my head they dissipated and dissolved into the ether, vanishing from all perception like the mists of some ephemeral slumber. I took the cigarette from my mouth and breathed deeply of the cool, clean air. Before me, mountains loomed as timeless and impenetrable as the Earth itself, the standing testament of Mother Nature’s ancient glory. I beheld the vista that had dominated over all the landscape since before the race of man had walked the Earth, and in my heart the wild call of some primeval nature shuddered into life. I felt my neck hairs prickle with a feeling that I could not shake. This was a raw and wild land.