Hangman:, Nick Venom [nice books to read .TXT] 📗

gutter. A man dressed in a torn cloak appeared from the alleyway. The man gave a twisted grin from the darkness of the alleyway. Brook looked to his right and watched with frightened eyes as the guard was lifted into the air by the thin string. The remaining guard fired off bullets into the man, but a swirl of darkness prevented the bullets from making contact. The man raised his hand and pointed at the guard. A small swirl of darkness appeared at his fingertip and shot out towards the guard. The darkness makes contact with the guard. The guard’s body began consuming itself. The blood was drained with ease while the guard’s soul was torn away from him, leaving a lifeless looking guard. The guard then collapsed to the ground. The driver of the Hummer, who watched in terror, drove off and left the president on his own. 

Brooks trembled as the man neared him. The man raised his hand and pointed his finger at Brooks. No swirls of darkness appeared at his fingertips but, instead, a thin string appeared in front of Brooks, dangling in front of him, before wrapping across his torso. The man walked up to Brooks and laughed in his face. He pulled the string connected to his fingers and yanked Brooks to the rooftop of a nearby four-story building. The man chuckled before throwing the cloak into the air and disappearing under a small smokescreen. The man knocked Brooks out before stepping on the edge of the rooftop, chuckling at the death he caused below. 

“You… are… mine.”

Hangman 2: Task Force 147

News spread about the ambush and the disappearance of the president, igniting riots, and chaos throughout America. The vice president, Harold Crude, stood on a podium and began his speech with cameras and attention completely on him. Millions, even billions, of peoples’ eyes were glued to the screen, anticipating Crude’s speech. “My dear people of America, today is a horrific day as it has been two days since the ambush of the president’s convoy. Since them, we have been tracing down the kidnapper or kidnappers and the president’s location. As of now, no demands have been made by the kidnappers. The current status of the president is unknown.” Crude then looked over at one of his heavily geared soldiers---standing by his side---that acted as his bodyguard. “Today, I have created a task force known as ‘Task Force 147’ in retaliation against the kidnappers. The task force will be in charge of tracking down the president’s location and revealing the identity of the kidnapper. Please, if you have any information about this kidnappers, then call 1-800-TIPS.” Crude ordered, slightly smirking. “Until then, we can only wait for our dear president to return. Fortunately, America is not without a leader as I will now become the 48th president of the United States. I will act as commander in chief and will begin reconstructing America as soon as the riots end. Do not panic as the military enters your city. They have been instructed to dispel the riots, ending the terror that plagues us!” He declared, receiving applause from the audience in front of him. The cameras continued to watch Harold Crude as he raised his hand to address the audience before turning around and heading into the building behind him. His soldier escorts and secret service followed behind him. The reporters and audience were ushered out of the area by soldiers and police officers. 

 

Harold Crude waited for Mary Jane Dennel, known by her codename ‘Rhino’, to appear behind him. “Dennel,” he said. Dennel nonchalantly walked up to Crude and saluted him, before taking off her helmet. “I have a position for you.”

“A position, sir? What may that be?” Dennel asked. Crude waved off the other soldier escorts and the secret service.

“I want you to be the leader of Task Force 147.”

“Leader?” Dennel said, raising her eyebrows. “Why are you choosing me, sir?” Crude smirked as he rubbed her arm. Dennel shuddered. Sick bastard, she thought.

“I see that you are fit for the position as your time serving in world war three was… extremely satisfying to see. Well, do you accept?”

“Do you mind if I ask about the pay, sir?” Dennel asked, keeping a straight face on. 

Crude smiled before letting out a small laugh. “Your salary will increase tenfold by taking on this position and, luckily, you won’t be doing too much work.” Dennel furrowed her brow.

“I’ll take the position… sir.”

“Perfect, you’ll start today. Your comrades are waiting for you in Area S.” He informed her before turning around, walking away from her with his soldier escorts and secret service following after him. 

 

Dennel walked to Area S---a new and restricted area---and entered a briefing room, noticing a friend of hers, Nate Harrison, was present. Nate Harrison furrowed his brow as he looked down at the ground, unintentionally ignoring Dennel. Harrison wore a sleek carbon black suit that resembled latex. His messy black hair got in his eyes’ way as his light brown eyes reflected on inner thoughts. Dennel, a petite girl---with a friendly atmosphere who wore the same suit as Harrison---had dark red curly hair that she styled in a ponytail with light blue eyes, walked up to Harrison, and tapped his shoulder. Harrison snapped out of his concentration and looked down at  Dennel. “Hey, I haven’t seen you in such a long time, MJ.” 

“Likewise,”

“I’m surprised that a frail-looking girl like you managed to survive world war three.” Harrison joked.

“I’m surprised that a handsome rich boy like you decided to join the army.” Dennel joked back.

“Touche,” Harrison said before letting out a laugh. His laugh was cut short as two FBI detectives strolled into the room.

The first detective looked worn out, wielding a cigarette in his left arm and a coffee in the other. He stood in front of the room. “My name is Jake Hankins, a detective familiar with the kidnapper. Next to me is my wife and fellow detective, Grace Strong, who is also familiar with the kidnapper.”

“You know who the kidnapper is already?” One of the soldiers named Mick Wales, a muscular man wearing the same black suit with black hair and eyes and tanned skin, shouted from the back of the briefing room. 

“Yes,” He said before looking over at the open door. Strong went to the door and closed it, locking it. “Our kidnapper is a supernatural killer that goes by the name ‘Hangman’ because of his fascination and tendency to hang his victims. All of the missing cases, with the lesbian teachers being the most recent, are victims of Hangman. Hangman’s real name is William Ericson. He gained his supernatural powers through toxic runoff from companies being dumped into his village’s water source. The toxic waste killed his family, friends, and fellow villagers, leaving him with an itch for revenge, leading to his recent killings.” Hankins informed the soldiers. The soldiers nodded their heads as they absorb the information. “This task force will be led by newly appointed Captain Mary Jane ‘Rhino’ Dennel. Aside from your leader, this task force will consist of Nate Harrison, Mick Wales, Roxy Woodole, Donna Breson, Ulanda Naju, and ourselves.”

“Any questions?” Strong asked.

“Yeah, when do we start?” Mick asked

Hankins smirked. “Today,”

 

Task Force 147 was loaded into a Swat truck. Hankins received tips from the hotline about an abandoned warehouse being filled with screams and shouts. Strong contacted a hacker that worked for the government named Rick ‘Unknown’ Seld who managed to track the president’s location to the same abandoned warehouse. Both of these tips leading to the same building prompted the team to roll their way to the warehouse. The abandoned warehouse, nicknamed the ‘Slaughterhouse’, was in a poor district of Chicago. Passersby often felt a strange, almost-chilling atmosphere from the building. Neighbors filed reports to the police, but the reports were thrown away at the discretion of a certain corrupt and tearful police chief that Hankins ran into before. Fortunately, Rick was able to tap into the filed complaint reports and managed to use that information to zero into the location. 

Hankins directed the attention to himself. “We’ll be charging into a building that we don’t have much information about. Remain on guard at all times. We’re not sure about Hangman’s strengths and weaknesses so don’t underestimate him. Is that clear?” The team nodded their heads, gripping their weapons tightly. The driver drove the truck to the front side of the abandoned warehouse. The driver glanced over his right shoulder through the small barred window that connected the driver’s cab and the back of the truck. 

“Contact me when the mission is completed, I’ll be a few blocks away.”

“You’re not staying here?” Hankins asked him.

The driver shook his head. “This place creeps me out. I’m not staying here.” He then looked at the warehouse, not noticing a pair of eyes staring at him from the top of the roof. “Go, go, go!” Hankins motioned for Woodole and Naju to open the door, allowing everybody to jump out of the truck. Once everybody jumped out of the truck, the driver sped off. Hankins glanced at the truck, squinting at the back of the truck and noticing a pair of hungry eyes staring at him. He jerked his head back and opened his mouth to mention it, but Strong shook his shoulder and attracted his focus. 

“We’re leaving,” She told him. 

“Oh, okay,” Hankins said, glancing at the fleeting truck. Meanwhile, Dennel led her team into the warehouse slowly as they scanned the rooms.

“Main room, clear,” Wales shouted.

“Bathroom, clear,” Naju shouted.

“Office, clear,” Hankins shouted.

“Lunchroom, clear,” Woodole shouted.

“All rooms, clear.” Harrisons shouted. 

“The president isn’t here,” Strong declared. All task force members reunited in the main room, an enormous space that held many abandoned pieces of machinery. Dennel scanned the rafters but didn’t notice anything or anybody there.

“He has to be here,” Dennel said.

“Could Rick have been lying?” Hankins asked while looking around the room for possible entrances. “Or maybe our intel was wrong.”

“Rick wouldn’t lie to us. Also, he sounded very confident that the president was here,” Strong argued. 

“Spread out and search for any secret departments!” Dennel ordered before patting the walls. The others followed her and searched through the four rooms---one large and three smaller rooms. The main room held the factory part of the warehouse while the three smaller ones functioned as the lunchroom, bathroom, and the owner’s office. Wales came across a loose board in front of a piece of machinery. He crouched down and peeked into the space under the board before utilizing his gun’s butt to smash the board into pieces. He then peeked his head into the space and noticed a familiar face.

“Hey, found him!” Wales shouted, motioning for the others to congregate on him. Wales dropped into the space, crouching to move through the space. The three-foot-tall confined space held a dog bowl and a badly beaten and bruised Alan Brooks. Wales crouched walked over to Alan Brooks and grabbed his shirt, dragging him slowly towards the small opening. Woodole and Naju grabbed the president and heaved him up, laying him flat on the ground. Dennel walked over to him and crouched next to his head.

“Can you tell me your name?”

“A-A-Alan Bro-Brooks,” he responded while coughing and gurgling up blood. Harrison picked him