《James Bland: Madskull》History
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"As our hooded guy said, you have a chance to fulfill your destiny." Said one of the masked men.
"I don't think I'll like it there." James Bland said. He could feel his energy draining; he could feel his life slipping slowly into the void of death.
"You'll love it there, Bland!" replied one of the assassins, "Plenty of ironing, drying paint, opportunities to grout tiles..." He trailed off, giving James time to think.
Grout... Wait! Get a hold of yourself Bland! You have to pull through...
"Bland." Said one of the men, snapping him out of his train of thought, "You have a choice. Die here, or come with us.
"Or wait for a savior to show up." Said the other masked person, a female voice this time.
Bland heard the sound of a gun firing and the sound of a body drop. He looked in awe as the assailant that had threatened him with a gun now lay dead on the floor.
"The name's Kelly Drake and I am a doctor." She said, taking off her balaclava.
"Umm..." Bland said, distracted by her. He had long, brown hair that complimented her green eyes and athletic features. In other words, he was distracted by her.
"Umm... Bland, James. Yes. I..."
She was rummaging through a first aid kit that he had failed to notice her pull out, searching for the correct medical equipment to treat the injury.
"This is going to hurt," she said seriously, "A lot. I'm going to knock you out for now."
Bland woke up on a bed like you would see in an emergency room. He checked his surroundings, seeing that he in fact was in the emergency room.
"Wha... where am I."
"Emergency room of an abandoned MI6 base." Said a woman's voice.
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"Kelly, right?" Bland said, still taking in his whereabouts and noticing Kelly sitting in a chair in the corner, reading a paperback novel.
"I had to stitch you up pretty good," said Kelly, "It's a wonder you pulled through at all."
"Thank you for helping me," Bland said, "I really mean it."
"It's my job." She said, putting the book on a coffee table beside her.
"Do you know what they mean by 'traitor'?" Bland said, surprising himself with his eagerness to know.
"Absolutely." She replied.
"So, what does it mean?" Bland asked
"You sure you want to know?"
"Absolutely."
She sighed.
"Several years ago Specter began a new program called Madskull. It was meant to create conditioned super soldiers of some type, so that they could kill James Bond and kill MI6 simultaneously."
"Did it work?" asked James.
"You tell me, you fought one."
"Well I sure don't like it, but he probably would've won if he didn't let me live like he did." He admitted.
"These super soldiers took over the MI6 base you were working at completely."
"Were?" James asked, puzzled.
"I had to move you out of there or you would have died." a sad look passed over her face. "Like everyone else when they destroyed it."
"If these Madskull guys are so powerful, why don't they use them all of the time?" James asked, "Why haven't they replaced the workforce entirely?"
"Because they're on a timer. After they complete their mission, they're dead. The first ones weren't like that though. The first ones didn't have timers, so after they completed their mission, they lost control of their minds. You and I were lucky, we escaped."
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"Escaped?"
"We were going to become Madskull soldiers, but we hatched a plan. We needed to break out of there, since we knew what was going to happen to us. We escaped as they were injecting the heightened strength resistance, and intelligence chemical combinations. That's why we both have superior abilities compared to other people. For example, I can remember everything I've ever seen or heard."
"Neat." Said James simply "What can I do?"
"Well, your excitement limiting chemical combination got screwed up big time, and you broke out of the chemical tube before they had a chance to correct it. In other words, you're... Bland. You consider uninteresting activities to be absolutely exhilarating. You finally live up to your last name, so that's a plus."
"That's it?" James said.
"I guess." Kelly replied. "Also your name sounds weirdly like-"
"I know." James said flatly. "So, where am I anyway?"
"The official headquarters of MI6." She said. "Where James Bond trained."
James thought for a moment.
"Kelly?"
"Yes?" she replied.
"Do you think James Bond was killed by Madskull?"
"I think so." She said. "Also I found something weird in your suit coat pocket."
"You went through my stuff?"
"Security measures." She said.
"What did you find?"
"A dark, robotic tarantula. It looks like it has a microphone and camera on it. It's basically a mobile spider-shaped webcam."
"Kelly, you need to get that thing out of here." James said, panicking, "It's a robotic spider that one of the people from Madskull tried to trap me with."
"Care to explain further?"
"I went to the wine cellar to discuss Madskull with George. This spider claimed to be him, but I found him hanging in the closet. That spider tried to trick me."
"Crazy." She said.
"Kelly?"
"Hm?"
"Thank you."
She smiled and returned to reading her book.
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Welcome to the dream dungeon. Ely suddenly finds himself in a mysterious dungeon accessed only through sleeping. Many people are drawn into this dream world, confused and mystified. Those in this dungeon must kill monsters to survive; maybe even each other. Join Ely as he struggles to survive a ruthless environment. What replaces his rest is untold trauma. What seems like an innocent game trope turns into a nightmare. This is a story of tragedy and the path to ultimate power. All in the hopes of an uncertain survival. _________ This fiction has NOT been abandoned. I made a haughty promise earlier to not worry because I'll continue this series, and with things lately, I've only proved myself a liar. Further promises dwindled, and I've lost trust. So many things have been going on recently that I've been booked. I will refrain from making any future guarantees or promises as my busy schedule will stay with me for a long long while. Time for me to actually spend on writing and revising won't appear until at the least November 19. I won't say expect that's when I'll restart, but you can expect expecting it to maybe happen. That's really shallow. But with everything going on, I've let my small reading base down. I apologize. I still stick by my statement though that I won't abandon this project. I plan to stick it to the end, no matter the delay. Most importantly, thank you everyone; readers who both like and dislike my work. I appreciate your time spent on my dumb imagination. Stay toasty my readers in this winter season. Cheers. UPDATE: We're back on track. Thank you for your patience. Any future readers, heyo! Glad you're here. UPDATE 2: So far it's been 21 days since I last uploaded a chapter. The best thing done for any fiction, no matter how good it is, is that it continues, and I have a bad history with that. 1 fiction on hiatus and already more delays with less than 20 chapters in this fiction. I've been very preoccupied with adding more things to do in my life rather than actually committing to any particular thing. That applies primarily to this. I cannot abandon this, as busy as my future looks and will look as I get busier and busier. Someday, I hope, I will be able to sit down and just write. just. write. But for now, I ask for patience. I suppose I'm glad this fiction hasn't picked up so that I don't disappoint too many people if any really. But I need to commit and it's going to happen sometime and sometime soon. No more flowery words. I'll see you later. UPDATE 3: It's very evident I won't be able to pick up this story for a while. With AP Testing, competitions, and other things I am busier than ever. But I must complete this fiction. I have too. Until next time. UPDATE 4: It is now the summer. I owe everyone an apology. Chances are, nobody's around to see this, and that is okay. I only blame myself for this sort of brokenness of a fiction, not that it is actually that bad but I am just exaggerating it for dramatic effect.But what's not exaggerated is the severity of my broken promise. I apologize for my naive claims about finishing a novel that I couldn't finish and that I didn't have the discipline to finish. Nor the skills, really, I was and am still an immature writer.What is to place now? I want to make it clear I understand this is my fault. I will man up to this. And I will accept any criticism. I understand I messed up. Reading Stephen King's On Writing made it clear to me that I need to do two things:Read lots.And write lots.I have done neither. If I don't have the time to read often, how do I expect to write? I need to become more experienced. I need to become a serious writer.So if I want to dream of continuing, I need to at least fulfill both requirements. I enjoy writing. I haven't written seriously outside of school in a while. I planned to write this summer and finish this. I made a lot of promises that I didn't keep.So there's that. I won't enact any self-pity, or be foolishly obsessed. What I did was wrong, and I must deal with it. I let down readers. And I apologize.I hope I can find forgiveness. This is a writer's sin.I won't promise I'll finish this. I intend to finish this, at some point, because writing is fun and I want to write. But how things are don't reflect that. Maybe I'll finish this at some point. Maybe I won't. I won't be naive to make that promise.I thank everyone who has read this if this is the end. If not, and hopefully not, I thank everyone who is to read future chapters. I thank everyone who allowed me to live in the miniscule little dream of mine as I passed my days. I thank everyone who cares enough to read this. Until next time, peace everyone. Thank you. You are all great readers and great people. I wish everyone the best in whatever reading/writing endeavors follow you henceforth.
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