literature

Karmic Hunters

Deviation Actions

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Literature Text

They come for everyone.  You don’t necessarily know when they’ll come for you, but you can be pretty damn sure that they will.  They can come during the night, when you’re brushing your teeth, or simply when you’re having lunch.  They aren’t picky, they don’t care what you’re doing or where.  They just know they have to take you and if you aren’t ready to go, well that’s your problem.  Unless you’re the equivalent of Mahatma Gandhi or Mother Theresa, you can expect them sooner or later.  And even if you are, well they’ll probably still come for you.
Some people say they’re eight feet tall with green eyes.  Some claim they’re purple with yellow spots.  Stories are told to young children to scare them into doing they’re chores.  And this is often where such exaggerations come from.
But a handful of people know the truth.  They’ve seen them in action.  They’ve seen them carry off seemingly harmless people never to be heard from or seen again.  Cretyn is one of the select few.  And he hopes never to see one of those bastards again.
Boy was he wrong.


“Order up,” rings the cook as the tinny bell sounds.  A waitress in her 40s grabs the plate with a look of monotony on her face.  She’s wearing that classic diner’s apron with frills running up and down.  Her hair used to be pinned securely to her head like she’s been doing it the same way for 20 years, but as her seventh hour of her shift approaches it has started to unravel.
Jimmy’s Place has been around the block a few times.  It’s a typical burger joint in the shape of one of those old Cadillac’s no one seems to know how to pronounce anymore.  The neon sign isn’t really neon anymore, now the word “myce” is all that distinguishes this diner from the other 4 on the same strip of Fischer Road.  
The inside isn’t much better.  The years of dirt and grime have built up on every available surface that doesn’t have regular butt or dish use.  The once firetruck red stools have now turned a rusty twinge.  The wooden bar top has long been polished, past meals lost to gouging fork marks left be angry customers.
Jimmy, the original owner of the diner, has been gone for awhile now.  Jimmy Jr. took over when pop disappeared and has been running the place ever since.  The menu’s been the same since the good ole days, and many of the customers, although now way past their prime, have been loyal since day one.  Doris keeps Jr. from shutting down the measly diner with continual you don’t want to know what I’ll do to you if you take away my only income threats.
Level 4. Priority minimal.
She drops the plate in front of a hungry guy sitting at the counter waiting for his order.  It’s a burger and fries, the diner’s special.  He mumbles something about ketchup and she walks away to help the whiney couple with the two kids in the corner booth.  The 2-year old twin boys have been throwing cream packets at each other while mom and dad are off on mental vacations.
The guy with the burger starts poking at it, sniffs it, and then takes a bite like it’s the best thing he’s seen in days.  He’s kinda scruffy, with several day old hair growing on his face.  The hair on his head isn’t much longer, but it’s long enough to be tangled.  He’s been out in the wilderness on a 3 day hunt and he smells like it.  This burger is the first thing he hasn’t had to catch or roast himself.  He’s excited.
As he’s munching on his burger he hears some cries of excitement coming from outside the diner.  He spins the stool he’s sitting on around to see what’s going on.  He sees a man dressed in a suit frantically running from something.  And close on his tail are two of them.  They’re chasing him, and he isn’t going to get away.  Not if they can help it.  He should probably help them out, but he’s too hungry.
Doris comes back and slams the ketchup on the counter in front of him.  He glances up at her and she’s got a what the hell are you gonna do about it Scruffy look on her face.  He nonchalantly brushes his collar back to reveal his KHD badge and reaches for the ketchup.  Doris has rushed out the back door of the diner before he even unscrews the cap.  She’s never seen anyone from the Karmic Hunters Division before, but she knows he isn’t someone to be messed with.  He can’t be one of them right? He’s not even purple…
Bzzt, bzzt.  The pager.  He does a half-groan as he reaches into his pocket and pulls the KHD device from his pocket.  He flips up the top, message from HQ:

Cretyn Iode
Priority utmost
Armed and dangerous
15 meters

As he stares at the pager the distance slowly ticks up higher and higher, 16, 17, 18 meters.  He slams the top down and shoves the pager back into his pocket.  So much for the burger.  Throws some karmillions on the counter, hurries out the diner toward the direction he saw the man run just minutes earlier.  He takes off at a steady jog.  His pager starts chiming so he knows he’s headed in the right direction.  He speeds up, so does the pager.  Cheep…cheep…cheep.
The two KHD agents that were chasing Cretyn Iode must have failed in the capture, otherwise there wouldn’t have been a mass text to all nearby KHD agents.  Failed in this world usually means dead or otherwise debilitated beyond recognition, i.e. dismemberment.  Since Cretyn is still on the run, Gravin is betting on the former.  So ‘armed and dangerous’ really isn’t far from the truth.  
An utmost priority is as high as it gets.  Any higher and the scale tips back to none.  You do not want to ignore an utmost.  That gets you called into the Chamber.  And you don’t want to go to the Chamber.  This must be one bad ass dude.  The last known person with a priority of utmost was Joseph Stalin.
He passes the first KHD agent.  Shot through the neck, blood squirting from the carotid.  Takes out the pager, hits the comm button.  “Agent down, send in the Sergeants.  Make sure their stock of body bags is full.”  Shoves the device back in his pocket.  He speeds up.  Cheep..cheep..cheep.
He can see Cretyn ahead knocking people down as he shoves them out of the way.  An old lady falls on top of her cart of apples and proceeds to use every cuss word she can think of.  Cheep, cheep, cheep. Knocking people over is slowing him down.  Gravin is catching up.  Further ahead he can see two other KHD agents closing in on Cretyn from the opposite direction.  From the overlays in his karmashades he can see other agents are approaching from the sides as well.  They must have gotten the page as well.
Cretyn stops cold.  The agents slow down until a KHD circle has formed around Cretyn.  What the hell’s he doing?  He pulls a small cylindrical device from his pocket, not much different than a bomb detonator, and pushes the green button.
Poof.
i'm having LOADS of fun writing this. i just have all these ideas lol. this is the what do they call those? prelogue? and the first chapter. this is still kind of a rough draft i haven't reread it since i wrote it to see if i need to add anything.

i'm mainly looking for feedback to see what you guys think and if you think u'd read more of it. i know it's long, sorry >.<
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Vashtastic's avatar
2 major things: karma isn't really something that effects anyone else other than you, plus i mean, people get punished by being demoted - sooo the need for karmic hunters? i mostly point this out because its your actions that get your promoted or demoted - so in the end you;re only doing it to yourself really. also i hope you know your hindu religiou well. I think instead of utmost - it should be a color or number. makes it seem more military-esque.
If you have agents thats one thing, but if you get into military ranks: [link] should help you.
i suppose i should have mentioned this to you before. ha but i really only thought of it when you posted this.