The message was from a man named the Sovereign. No one knew exactly who the Sovereign was, or even if the Sovereign was a he. All that was known was that the Sovereign always wore black armor, and showed no mercy. Many considered him a force to be reckoned with. These people were called “intelligent.” Kren counted himself among those people.
“Is the former emperor dead?” the Sovereign asked?
“No, not yet.” Kren responded. Normally, reporting that someone wasn’t dead to the Sovereign usually led to the messenger ending up dead. Not in this case, however.
“Good. I want him brought here. And I want him to suffer. Any other news?”
“Our scanners detected someone leaving the JeffxOC. Further analysis revealed that it’s this universe’s Dorkpool.”
“I see. Do you know why he’s left?”
“Not at all. But something tells me it isn’t in our best interest that he does.”
“Do you have any ideas on how to stop him?”
Kren smiled. “Tell me, have you heard of Creepypasta?”
“They’re pretty much horror stories on the Internet. And some of the more popular ones – usually focusing on some type of supernatural being – exist in this universe.”
“This universe’s Dorkpool, along with our former emperor and someone named Sylvia Ann Sylvia, make fun of these stories. I figured it’d be fitting if some of these beings he’s insulted were to kill him.”
The Sovereign considered this.
“Very well,” he said. “Send these ‘Creepypasta’ creatures after him.”
“Yes, Sovereign.” Kren said.
The town of Rockshire was a sleepy little town, situated about five miles away from the coast. It used to be a bit livelier, back when the factories were open and jobs were prevalent. After the recession, the factories closed, people moved away, and all that were left were the small shop owners and the people who didn’t want to move.
The town was interesting, a mish-mash of empty factories and small mom-and-pop stores. And the man who just arrived, the man in the Deadpool mask, glasses, bowtie, backpack, Star Trek: The Next Generation uniform, and utility belt, hadn’t seen anything quite like it.
His name is Dorkpool. He’s seen a lot, from a skull-headed being resurrected from the dead to alternate versions of himself to the depths of space to psychopaths. He’d led an eventful life so far. However, when leading a life that was primarily eventful, one misses some of life’s little oddities. Like the town of Rockshire.
Normally, he wouldn’t be in a town like Rockshire. He wouldn’t be in a town at all. A few months ago, he’d be on a spaceship. His spaceship. The Cheese Doodle.
He called it that for a reason. He figured that if anyone tried messing with them, they’d keep their guard down. After all, who could be intimidated by the Cheese Doodle?
Well, there was one man who wasn’t. His name was Skrein. Eric Skrein. He’d gone after Dorkpool’s alternate timeline counterpart who’d come to his universe. In this alternate Dorkpool’s – Mirror Dorkpool’s, or just Mirror’s – universe, he was a ruler. Some people didn’t like that. When Mirror returned to his universe, some people wanted him to leave. Permanently. Dorkpool came to Mirror’s rescue, and brought back to his universe. Skrein followed, and attacked, blowing Dorkpool’s ship – his home – out of the sky.
From there, they met an old…friend, of sorts, Jeff the Killer. He had a boat he bought with money given to him by Dorkpool (replicators can replicate many things, among them money), and let Dorkpool, Mirror, and Dorkpool’s Riffing employee, Sylvia Ann Sylvia stay with them.
All was fine and well until they were attacked by Jane the Killer. Jane was soon killed, but not before causing some damage. It was then Dorkpool decided to take a stand.
Earlier, on the wreckage of the Cheese Doodle, he had found a picture. It depicted a group of what appeared to be superpowered individuals. Among them were two people he knew, or thought he knew. First, his catgirl ex-girlfriend, Indometus. Second, a man who looked like an old friend of his. A man named Jake NukeIt.
And that man was why Dorkpool was in Rockshire. Some time ago, Jake had told Dorkpool that, if he was ever in a pinch and needed him, to go to Rockshire.
Dorkpool never knew why Jake settled here, but it didn’t matter. What did matter was figuring out where Jake is. Rockshire isn’t the biggest little town, but when one was looking for someone, it’s plenty big enough.
As Dorkpool walked past the old factories, he heard a noise. It sounded like a high-pitched laugh.
“What the hell?” Dorkpool muttered.
Then, music started playing. It sounded reversed. And somewhat familiar.
Wait. Dorkpool knew that song (“Can You Feel the Sunshine?”), and knew what it meant.
From an alley came confirmation.
It was an orange and white blood covered (of course) plush doll.
The red garbed Riffer sighed.
“Seriously? The Tails Doll? Come on! I try to get away from bad Creepypasta stories for one day, and somehow they end up finding me.”
The flying doll laughed.
“You’re coming with me,” it said, despite not having a moving mouth.
Dorkpool groaned. Searching the ground, he found a stick. Behind his mask, he grinned.
“Yeah, sure. Just give me a second. I need to get something.”
Dorkpool quickly grabbed the stick off the ground, and smacked the Tails Doll. The plush object flew into a wall, then fell to the ground.
“Wait - !” The doll said.
Dorkpool gave the doll another whack with the stick.
“This is fun!” he said, then hit the doll again.
It was around here that he decided to have a conversation with the demonic inanimate object.
“You know – ” WHACK! “ – I really don’t like you.” SMACK! “I mean, sure, you’re not as bad as, say ‘Sonic.exe,’ – ” WHAM! “ – But you’re still pretty awful.” BAM! Dorkpool paused.
In that pause, the Tails Doll groaned. “Kill me…” it muttered.
“Heh. Said the same thing while Riffing your shit story.” WHACK! “Oh, yeah, another thing I don’t like about you: your association with Sonic. Fuck Sonic.” SMACK! “Actually, Sonic fandom, please don’t take that literally. We don’t need anymore erotic Sonic fanart.” WHAM!
Dorkpool stepped on the doll.
“Now, tell me why you’re here, or I’ll shove this up your ass, and use you as a torch. I mean, I do have a lighter on me.”
“Never!” the doll spat.
Dorkpool shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
A few minutes later, Dorkpool used his new torch to illuminate his surroundings. He was around a bunch of abandoned factories. Looking around, he noticed something by the doors of one of the factories: two letters. JN.
Bingo, Dorkpool thought, and went to open the doors.
They were locked. Of course. Thankfully, he brought a lockpick. One of the good things about having a belt with a lot of pouches: you can fit a bunch of random shit in there.
After a minute or so, Dorkpool jimmied open the doors, and found…
Another door. Solid steel, complete with a fingerprint scanner, retinal scanner, and number pad. Dorkpool figured he’d have a hard time opening this one with a lockpick. So, he did the only logical thing.
He knocked again, harder.
Still, no response.
“Hey, asshole, it’s not some Jehovah’s Witness or Girl Scout. It’s your old pal, Dorkpool!” he yelled.
The door opened, revealing a long flight of stairs. There was no illumination, so Dorkpool was glad he brought his torch.
The incredibly talkative nerd walked down the stairs. It took a few minutes, but he finally made it to the bottom, and what he saw at the bottom astonished him.
TO BE CONTINUED…
What could it be? Find out next time! Same Dork site! Same Dork channel!