Rebels for Love – Part One of Hercules Gone Mad

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From where he now sat, the bartender could see that Hercules was the only person in the club not watching the strange happening that was being shown on the televisions. He seemed to be someplace else far away, staring sullenly down into his near-empty bottle of bourbon as the dancers sat next to him staring hypnotically up at the screens.

“We Love Lovis! We Love Lovis! We Love Lovis!”

The bartender briefly considered walking back to the bar and pouring himself a stiff drink. Instead, he, too, looked up to watch one of the televisions. It wasn’t long before he saw a soft greenish glow appear in the center of the stadium’s darkened stage.

“We Love Lovis! We Love Lovis! We Love Lovis!”

The soft glow suddenly flashed into a massive explosion of light. The chanting turned into what sounded to the bartender like screams and wild shrieks of panic. He was certain he had just witnessed yet another act of merciless sabotage. It didn’t surprise him. A crowd like that, so many of their kind in one place, didn’t stand a chance. He first wondered how many had been killed. He then wondered how many were about to die, how many would be trampled to death by a hysterical crowd scrambling to save itself from who in the hell knew what was coming next.

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