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REEL FIVE

“All of us need someone to care for, Tom. It’s what makes us whole, makes us human. And none of us can tell exactly why we care for certain people. It’s just the way things work out.”

--Rhiannon

The Ragchild (written by Steve Locklev and Paul Lewis)

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FADE IN:

30. EXT. ABOVE THE AYALA MRT STATION – AFTERNOON

The airborne titans struggle, fingers locked, superhuman muscles and sinew straining against the incredible power of the other, of the image reflected, twinned in a mirror crack’d.

Thirty feet above the MRT station, it almost looks like Habagat is wrestling with himself, if not for the marked difference in the color of the opponents’ suits.

The hero faces his evil clone, Tagabah, created by the mad scientist Dr. Hugo [1]; Tagabah’s sole imperative, to destroy the mighty Habagat.

The enemies have been in an aerial dogfight for the past half hour, flitting and whizzing about like expertly flown man-sized aircraft. Both are tired, though Habagat is marginally more so, having just come from a duel with Suspiria in the skies of Hong Kong, before being drawn out by Tagabah’s challenge.

Under normal circumstances, they are the equal of the other.

However, when one is more tired than the other, and his enemy willing to exploit that disadvantage…

Suddenly, Tagabah rams his knee into Habagat’s groin, forcing the hero to let go of his hands. And, even as Habagat is doubling over in pain, Tagabah grabs the hero by the sides of his head, and pulls, slamming his forehead hard, into the metallic breastplate, the stylized avian skull that adorns the clone’s chest.

Momentarily stunned, Habagat hangs there, in the air, a distant rumble of thunder coming from the grey skies above.

Around, above, and below him, the world seems to hold its breath.

There is a pounding then, a drumming, and for a fevered instant, Habagat thinks it has begun to rain, that he has been caught in the downpour, drenched.

But he is not wet (save for the blood smeared on his bruised lip), and the pelting hurts, and he is jarred and jostled, and dimly, he understands that he is being pummeled, punched by fists as hard as his own, over and over, dozens of times in a second, as his enemy speeds around him, twisting, corkscrew, a furious tsunami raining blows on his jaw, his abdomen, his chest, his biceps, his back.

Battered, disoriented, Habagat tries to defend himself, but he seems to be battling an army of attackers, each as powerful as he is.

He is tempted to listen to the tattoo of fists against flesh, to surrender to this lullaby of atrocity, to shut his eyes and sleep, when the pounding ceases.

He hangs there, unsteady, punch-drunk, muscles battered, bruised. He hears his cape snap in the cold, biting wind. Blearily shaking his head, clearing the pain away, Habagat sees he has lost sight of his black-clad clone.

The past thirty minutes have been a stuttered onslaught of hit-and-run, Tagabah chipping away at Habagat’s strength, wearing the hero down. Habagat knows he needs to finish this quickly, before fatigue proves to be the ultimate victor.

He steadies himself, tenses. He pivots in mid-air, trying to home in on the high whistle of his approaching opponent, but the skies continue to rumble, and the noise is interfering with the hero’s concentration. (And he is beginning to feel so tired…)

Then, a sonic boom sounds, from above, a rain of glass falling from the windows of the nearby Dusit, slow-motion shatter, apocalyptic torrent of razor shards.

There is an explosive, sudden agony in Habagat’s broad back, right between his shoulder blades, a devastating, crushing blow that sends the hero speeding head first towards the traffic-draped street below.

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1 Doctor George R. Hugo is the porkpie hat-wearing villain who began his criminal career-- assisted by his mentally and physically enhanced simian experiment, Gustav Gorilya-- by unleashing the power of the NecroScopeTM upon an unsuspecting Manila, rousing the dead from their graves to attack and terrorize the populace.

He is currently toying with more “modern” sciences, such as cloning. Very old-fashioned and old-school, Dr. Hugo has yet to hear about the latest villainous advances in nanotechnology.

He also, at the strangest moments, misses having his zombies around. [back]

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