So, my birthday was yesterday (17 now!) and I thought I would upload something to commemorate the occasion. This was just an experiment, I wanted to try and explain what would lead Cole to be evil in inFAMOUS. So, read, and drop a review telling me what you think. I don't think it came out very well, but I guess you'll be judge of that.
"Kill him! He's the cause of all this!"
A rock hit me in the back of the head. I whirled on the group of people that had gathered and were pelting me with various objects. I growled, and in seconds, they all lay on the ground, dead or severely injured by a few well-placed bolts of red electricity. I turned to the cowering civilians that were hiding behind anything they could find.
"This is what happens when you try to kill me." I zapped a few of them for good measure, then quickly scale a five-story building, then leap on to the face of a taller one and climb to the roof. I move to the edge and look out over the Neon District, over Empire City. My Empire City. I glanced down at the masses of weaklings below, and got the sudden urge to hit them with a Thunder Drop. I decided not to, I didn't really feel like it.
The Demon of Empire City. Scourge of Empire. Satan Incarnate. Cole McGrath. I have many monikers, pick one, it doesn't matter. They're all true.
Sparks jumped from my hand and I casually tossed a Shock Grenade to the streets below, and smile as it detonates, people scream, and a car explodes. As the sun was starting to set, I once again got to thinking over just how exactly I became like this. You know, evil. I suppose it all started some two weeks after the blast, when that plane dropped those crates in Archer Square. I had to climb to the top and free the crates when Zeke and I saw that the parachute they had had gotten stuck on the statues arms. And then the Reapers attacked. I got rid of them pretty easily. Heh, back then, my electricity was blue. I was some goody two shoes back then.
Then when those people tried to open the crates to get to the food inside, I got to thinking, There's a lot of food here. Enough to last us for weeks. I guess frying those people to get them to stay away must have started me on the path to what I am now. I gotta admit, I had liked the new color of my electricity. Red, like blood. But anyway, that's when I realized, with these powers, I can take what I want, whenever I want. That thought brought a smile to my face. I glanced up at the hateful glares of the people I had zapped, and I was about to hit them again when Trish came up. She started saying some stuff about how irresponsible that was, that they needed the food. But I just thought, let them find their own food. This is for us. But I couldn't help feeling a little guilty. Now, I've forgotten what it feels like, guilt.
But that bit of guilt was replaced by confusion when that guy-the Voice of Survival, Zeke called him-showed that footage of me with the package that destroyed a good chunk of the Historic District. After that, Trish didn't speak to me for a long time. I wanted to kill that asshole for that, but no one knew where he was holed up, so I gave up on that.
I sat down on the edge of the roof and thought back.
The next step may have been when Moya had me get rid of those tar kegs pumping that crap into the water towers. By that point, I had stopped caring about others, looking out for myself, really. So after using Shockwave to drop that first keg and getting blasted with that stuff, I didn't hesitate in overcharging the pumps, dumping even more of it into the water supply. I really didn't give a shit whether the people got sick, as long as I was in the clear.
I guess what really drove me further was the carefree destruction of, well, anything that could be destroyed, really. I had these powers, so why not have fun with them, right? I couldn't care less what happened to anyone caught up in my path. And when that shady guy that could have been on drugs told me that the cops were planning on killing me, I couldn't believe anyone, even the cops, who had been all but gone from the streets after the blast and when the gangs took over, had the balls to even think about trying it. Needless to say, I killed them first, not only to make sure they wouldn't try anything as stupid again, but to send a message: I was not to be messed with, and I would not tolerate any sort of rebellion. I emphasized this point by tossing a grenade into a small group of bystanders before going off to restore another substation.
My disregard for human life probably pushed me further. Whenever I got into a fight with Reapers, Dust Men or First Sons, I threw Grenades in their general direction, not really caring who got caught up in the blast, or even if my enemies were hit. Seriously, if all those idiot civilians didn't have enough brains to know to clear out when a fight like that broke out, well, they got what they deserved. Heh, sometimes, I would even just start frying people for no reason other than I was bored.
But, there was that time, on the roof of the hospital, when Trish spoke to me. Her words stung. I risked my life to save her-I was practically swarmed by those transients-and yet she says how irresponsible I've been with my powers, treating me like some kind of child. I held some resentment for that, I am not a child. And then... then there was that sick challenge given me by Kessler. I had to save those people from a trap, if only just to get to Kessler, I didn't care about them. But if I had let them die, he would be further than ever. Then, after that, he dropped the bomb-telling me that he had Trish, and six doctors, dangling two different rooftops, and I could only save one of them.
I chose Trish.
But when I got to her, I found out that it wasn't Trish, it was some other bitch. The ropes holding the doctors snapped, and Trish screamed my name all the way down. I tried to get to her, I really did, but I couldn't catch her. I revived her for a few moments, but all she had to say was that God had given me these powers, and I had squandered them, thinking only of myself. I tried convincing her that I did what I did for her, for Zeke, for us. But she wouldn't hear it.
She died right there, in my arms.
While I buried her in the park nearby, all that filled my grief-stricken mind was desire for revenge against Kessler. That was all I could think about. Trish's death at the hands of my mortal enemy left me bitter and full of rage. At any moment, I would just drop from a rooftop and start destroying. When John told me he had located the Ray Sphere, we worked together to reach it. I had the intentions of destroying it, but when I actually stood in front it, pulsating from the raw energy inside, I got another idea. I had lifted it from its cradle-and activated it. I felt the power surging into me. But John had wrenched it from my grasp, screaming, and it exploded, creating some kind of vortex and ripping him and the pier apart. I didn't care, though. It was just a means to an end.
I had enough power to kill Kessler now, and that's what I did, after our battle at Ground Zero. My brain lurched and the world faded into nothing when he revealed what could have been the worst blow yet-he and I were the exact person, from different times. He told me about the Beast and how I was supposed to stop it from wiping out mankind. He thought he was shaping me into some kind of savior by setting up the Ray Sphere blast and giving me my powers, powers I could use to save humanity. No, not at all.
Well, actually, it was partially true. When the Beast came, I would be ready, and I would kill it. If Trish had to die to allow me to make hard decisions and not be weighed down by anyone, then the Beast will suffer. But I doubt it'll appear for a long time. Until then, I will keep Empire City. I own this city. As I like to think, the strong take what they want, and the weak are their slaves, their playthings.
And no one is stronger than me.