Orlok and The Reality Potato

Something was different in the air. Something was... strange.

"Oh shit. It's that guy that took out a bunch of Rowan's people..." A random passerby muttered as he strode down the street, immediately turning in the opposite direction.

Somehow, something was different about Little Oracle

"Shit, did you see the show last night?! Took out a whole gang like they were nothing... Then fucking mutilated one bitches' corpse..." A random hobo dived into a dumpster.

He couldn't quite put his finger on it but the air was different.

A man on the sidewalk fell onto his knees and began to pray. Orlok walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

He was loathe he appear in front of others, lacking his mighty pom and trenchcoat, clad only in jeans and shitty boots like some kind of horrible skinhead. Orlok leaned over to the man that was trembling for some reason.

"Pardon me my good sir. A moment. Does the weather seem different to you today? I know we're underground and that the lights don't really change that much but I was wondering if we were forecast for more illumination than normal."

The man pissed himself and fell unconscious.

Yes, something was definitely strange here. The Logos bombing already had everyone on edge, nevermind the reports that there was some kind of serial killer in Quadrant B3.

Apparently he was called 'Frankenstein The Unkillable' because he'd been impaled and set on fire and exploded and poisoned a bunch of times and didn't even feel pain. It was weird that they shared the name Frankenstein but this guy sounded like a complete psycho. They said his body count was at several dozen now and that even Rowan Kreeger was so afraid of him she'd just let him walk out of the Flesh pits without getting fucked up after pissing her off somehow.

What a total badass this guy must have been.

Shit, that was where his sewage plant was. He'd have to set more traps to safeguard against this horrible scary person. He fingered the only weapons he had at his disposal. A wooden shiv he'd carved out of human bone from that one lady he'd mutilated, and exactly one single grenade that he'd made out of the last canister of fart gas, some duck tape, a bobby pin, and a human skull.

As far as grenades went it would be absolute shit even if it even went off but at least he was safe from pedophiles! He finger the only cash he had, forty credits. He cursed. He still had the chemicals and bug spray he'd bought from that one pharmacy but there wasn't much he could do with them without a good lab so he'd left them at home.

"Pardon me, young lad," He made sure to adopt his best posh British accent as he approached a young boy busy stealing the tires off of a car.

T'was only fair, he was in fact half-British, half South-African.

The boy turned to him with a startled look and reached for a shiv. He bumped into Orlok's chest and glared up at all six point four feet of him, then he gulped.

"You're... you're... Jesus... That guy from that show..." He stuttered.

"Well, no, I'm not Jesus lad. But I am proud of you for sticking to your role-models. Here is a credit chip. Don't spend it all in one place." he chuckled good-naturally and handed the boy a credit.

He took it in shaking hands and gulped.

"Now then, onto business. I'm looking for the nearest hairdresser, or a barber. Do you perhaps know where to find one?"

The boy choked and pointed down the street. "T-that way! Just don't hurt me!" He emptied his pockets and ran.

Orlok stared after him.


"Something strange is going on. I wonder if everyone isn't spooked about that serial killer guy. I mean, I'm one to talk seeing as I killed a bunch of guys but by Little Oracle's standards I'm like a thug at best. You only really count as a serial killer around here once your body count reaches triple digits." Orlok picked up the cash and counted it out.

Ooh, he was seven credits richer.

A woman screamed and covered her shirt with her hands as he passed.

"Ah, an excellent day to you as well, Madame."

Orlok sighed as he left the alleyway he'd gone into after getting sidetracked. One guy had jumped him with a knife. He'd screamed like a little girl and run away out of the alley. The guy had chased after him only to get run over by a freak car that had been speeding that way.

Orlok approached his messed up body and stole the cash out of his wallet.

His luck was improving.

Orlok knifed the prostitute that had given him a mean look a bunch of times in the face. It wasn't even that she'd given him the mean look as he passed the alley but that she'd snagged at his credit chits when she tried to run away. He couldn't tolerate theft, no sir.

... He couldn't have been THAT unattractive, right? He wept at the loss of his pom and all of his sex appeal.


He went the way the boy had pointed but found his way blocked by three burly men.

"Oi! The hell are you doing around here?! This is Cudgel territory and we don't like visitors! Now get the hell..." The man got a good look at his face and turned pale.

Orlok should hoped so. How rude a way to greet a guest to your neighborhood. He adjusted his damaged shades, now missing both lenses and being just a frame and tutted.

"How rude."

The two men behind their friend began to shake uncontrollably from embarrassment at his behavior. They lowered their gun and shiv respectively and back away. Some local form of apology.

"I... err.... I."

"Tis fine, scoundrel. I do not observe many examples of good manners around here, why should I be surprised now. I seek a meeting with the one experienced in the art of cutting follicles and arranging them in an aesthetically pleasing manner." Orlok huffed.


"Err... Jim, I think the big scary guy what done cooled off a bunch of those other Hose's might mean he wants to talk to the boss. I think I remember her talking about 'follicles' one time when she mentioned what she done did to that barbershop quartet what didn't pay up." One man itched at his neck nervously.

"You... you don't think he's planning ta...?"

"Couldn't stop I'm even if he does. You know this guy right? Word is he dudn't just ice rowan's boys without moving a bit, I be hearing say that she an him went an had a falling out after that arena match after he tanked a beating from an alpha like twas nuthin. A week later he just up and walks on out of there. up and walks out after disappointing Rowan in the pits? Ain't never heard anybody make Rowan mad and live."


The fuck was this guy's accent even? What was he saying?

"Aww shit," The other man said "You don't think he's one of them OSEC Cyborgs, right? The ones what eat metal outta the garbage and stuff? Would explain how he don't feel pain like us normal mortals. Ain't fixing to anger the robo-man, Jimm." One heavyset Texan man with a builder hat and welding goggles piped up.

Orlok glared. He hated Americans. Especially the ones with stupid accents.

"I ain't fixing to get nailed by the boss neither, Dell. Takes a Conagher ta..." Orlok growled lowly.

These Americans made no sense.

"Jim, now you done it. You've done incurred his wrath. I ain't gonna get eaten and mutilated because you're suicidal after your girl done dumped your sorry hide." The man with the welding hat spoke and stepped back.

"Son of a bitch." One of them said in the first example of English in the laster several minutes.

Orlok blinked and 'Jim' was charging at him with a shovel. He shouted in panic and ran back the way he came. Jim came spiraling after him.

"Dummy, We're the Yancy Construction Gang. If we can build it, we can break it! Get over here!" Jim yelled out.

Orlok ran away from the much smaller man with a yelp, ducking under a swing of his shovel once and then twice. The two other construction workers, at least he assumed that's what they were, ran back into the alley.

"No, kind sir! I beseech you! Do not smash my face!"

"What?! Can't hear you?!"

"I said don't smash me!

"Can't hear you!"

"No smashy!"

Jim put the shovel down and pointed to his helmet.


Aha, opportunity!

Orlok gestured emphatically to the alley and moved his mouth like he was speaking but didn't say anything.

"Ah, sunnabitch. Darned thing's must be stuck tight. I can't make out a word. Err... hold on!" Jim pulled at his helmet.

He took a few seconds to get it off and as soon as he did Orlok lobbed his skull grenade at him.

"What the fuck? It ain't halloween! It's November ya-" Jim erupted into flames.

He screamed in agony and fell to the ground, covered in fire. He tried to roll it out but it just spread the flames.

"Heheh. When I make a grenade I REALLY make a grenade. Kinda miss my skull though. ROWAN NUMBER TWO, NOOOOOOOO!!!!" He fell to his knees and cried dramatically.

He heard hushed whispering and turned to see the locals, having left their shops at the screaming and staring at him in horror.

"Holy fuck. It's him."


"Get the kids inside."

"Holy fuck, it's the... that guy. That guy that fought an Alpha and lived."

Well, fought was a better term than 'got his arse destroyed.' but he'd take it.

"Shit, that's a Yancy Ganger there. Fuck, what did Big Boss do off to piss off Fucking Frankenstein the Unkillable! The Guy that pissed off Rowan and lived!?"


Wait, wait, wait.

"Hold on my good people!" Orlok jumped to his feet and the people at the front of the crowd jumped back in fear.

"You... you're afraid of me?" He asked,

One man pissed himself and a woman seemed to fall over having an epileptic fit of some sort... wait no it was just a spontaneous orgasm.

.... What a strange fetish.

"So...." Orlok trailed off.

"Boo!" He yelled out suddenly.

Three more people fainted and one guy fell over, screaming something about the Antichrist. He was dressed as a preacher. Several people near to the preacher fell into hyperventilation upon hearing his deranged panicking.


Orlok looked over to a T.V that caught his eye. It was playing rock music and seemed to be showing images of a gang entering the sewage plant and dying horribly.

"Ow, that looked like it hurt. Ladies and gentlemen we can't show you the rest of what happened, it was LITERALLY too scary even for our kind of TV. Twas fucking awesome. Tune in next episode to see the exploits of the DEMON RIPPER HIMSELF, DESTROYER OF ANUSES AND THE KING OF THE LESBIANS, OR...-"

The TV cut into sudden static and gonked out for a second. Orlok had to run up to it and hit it a bunch of times to get a signal back.



"Oh my god." he breathed.

He turned to the crowd of scared locals.

"Oh my shit. How did I not see it before?! A guy running around offing people? With a scary appearance and a habit of playing with the corpses of his victims? With the nickname Frankenstein? How could I be so stupid?! No wonder everyone has been so scared everywhere I go today!" He put his hands to his cheeks in realization and gasped dramatically.

"HOLY FUCK!!! HE MUST BE RIGHT BEHIND ME!!!" He howled insanely and took off in a random direction.

Although, the preacher man had the right idea.


Say what you will about his fighting ability but he had a very nice right hook if you weren't expecting it. The old woman smiled kindly at him before his fist impacted against her face and she fell to the ground.

Orlok hijacked her motor scooter and took a moment to fiddle with the radio. The people needed to be warned. This guy was bad news. Trouble of the highest sort. He had to get everyone to band together against this menace!!! FOR THE COMMON GOOD!!

... The fact that Frankenstein the Unkillable was chasing him right now didn't make him any more interested in stopping him, not at all.

The people erupted into a mad panic and ran in all directions in an attempt to get away from the horrible serial killer that MUST have been right behind him.

"I know! I'll put on some really scary, appropriate music to warn everyone that trouble is following me! I know just the song."

Orlok slammed on the radio and a really nice jam played.

(Metal Gear Solid: Revengeance OST. Red Sun)

He coughed into a hand and warmed his voice up

"CALL THE POLICE!!! CALL THE FIRE BRIGADE!!! CALL THE ARMY!!!" He put the hover-scooter into top gear and sped off, running over one unfortunate man.


The sounds of chaos, hysteria and rioting could be heard behind him.


Orlok drove his awesome new mega scooter that was definitely too cool for an old lady down one of the less decrepit streets. There wasn't really any law down here that he could see, barring the occasional OSEC patrol that was definitely in Rowan's pocket.

"It's terrible! It's horrible! The apocalypse is upon us! There are serial killers everywhere!!!! Somebody save me!!! Quick, call Rowan!! ONLY SHE HAS WHAT IT TAKES TO SAVE US!!!" he screamed into a megahorn he'd gotten off one guy he ran over by accident.

The market district of this quadrant was in absolute chaos. Some Yancy gangers had caught their dead guy, burnt to a crisp and see the rioting townspeople. They'd put two and together, came out with five, and proceeced to begin beating the locals in the floor for killing their dude.

Then some other gang that dressed as clowns for some reason had taken advantage of the chaos to loot stores and then a whole shootout had ensued. A grenade bounced off of a wall and almost took him out.

Shit, he needed a tank if he was going to survive this. The serial killer must have incited a riot to get to him! Why, why would he do that?! what did he want?!

"Audible gasp!"

He was after the BastioCorp secret just like Rowan.

Orlok slammed the bike to a halt and put it into reverse.

"Holy fuck! Everybody! Listen!" He yelled out to the rioters.

Nobody listened. Shit, they were too caught up in their own pandemonium.

"No, fuck this. I'm just gonna wait it out."


As it turned out the riots weren't that bad. Only a eight or so blocks in Little Oracle had erupted into chaos. Didn't this place have like a thousand blocks or something? Meh.

Orlok had managed to slip away and rolled his hoverscooter up to the sewage plant. One angry rioter, a young woman-girl-teenager-thing had clamped onto the front of his scooter like a barnacle.

There was half of a dog stuck to the back, too.

"Oh, what a horrible adventure that was with that serial killer. Glad that I escaped him."

The teenaged girl made an angry grunting sound.

"I agree. At least I have this bike now, though it's really badly damaged and almost out of fuel." Orlok rolled into the main hall and keyed in the code to stop the battering ram trap from activating.

He turned the bike off and after twenty unsuccessful minutes of trying to scrape the girl off with a stick gave up and left her there.

"Okay, so I'm still where I was a week ago except my house is a little more fortified, I have a bike and a teenage girl to munch if I get hungry-"

Teenage-Girl screamed in fear.

"Shush. I'm slightly more mobile too so that's nice.... But there's a serial killer after me now, on top of Rowan and maybe Romeo. That guy. He hates me so much after I defeated him in the pits. Hmm. All in all a 'break-even' kind of day. Yey Bike. I wonder if I can rig that console up to watch tv."

Orlok sat in front of his new half a TV he'd fixed with duct-tape and sipped at some blood from the corpses. He didn't have a freezer so it had gone a little off.

He'd have to get a freezer.

"Hmm. So I didn't advance the plot much today and I feel like that was a really small riot by Little Oracle standards. Four out of ten, not enough vampires. Still, I got a bike." Orlok rested his feet on the table and sighed contentedly.

Not a bad day.

"Oh, hey. Charlie and the Chocolate factory is on. I love that movie."

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