Greenmatter: Revenge of the Maeville Ghost

by Daniel North

  Greenmatter

  Revenge of the Maeville Ghost

  Daniel North

  Copyright © 2020 Daniel North

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Cover design by: Nathanomir

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Disclaimer

  Prologue

  Chapter 1 (three months ago)

  Chapter 2 (present)

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Message from Author

  Disclaimer

  Greenmatter: Revenge of the Maeville Ghost, is an over 30,000-word book intended for mature readers over 18 years of age. This book contains violence, course language, and erotica. This book also contains extremely graphic and dark depictions of sex, including sexual assault, rape, and sexual violence. The author is in the strong opinion that rape and sexual assault belong entirely in fiction only. Under no circumstances should these fantasies be acted on without written or oral confirmation from a consenting adult.

  Prologue

  Harvie sipped his coffee while keeping the corner of his eye on the Maeville Municipal Bank.

  A cool breeze blew down the busy downtown street, pulling up on the pages of Harvie’s newspaper as if to steal it. His hand shot out and pinned the newspaper instantly, denying the wind its catch. As for the woman at the adjacent table, she wasn’t as fast.

  The wind picked up the woman’s napkin and sent it flying into the air, right against the side of Harvie’s head.

  Harvie scowled and removed the coffee stained napkin from his face, turning to give the woman a vicious glare.

  The woman was dressed in business clothes and had a cellphone glued to her ear, as she complained to someone about John in finance not having the balls to ask her out, regardless of her signals. She caught sight of Harvie’s glare and immediately got uncomfortable enough to pickup her belongings and leave the coffee shop. She looked over her shoulder once, which allowed Harvie to award her with a more intense glare, causing her to scuttle away in her tight pencil skirt even faster.

  Harvie wasn’t a pretty man. His face was scarred, and his nose crooked from multiple breaks. He was a fighter and a thief. If he owned anything, he either beat someone for it or snatched it while they weren’t looking.

  Now that the woman had reconfirmed his intimidating aesthetic, Harvie went back to sipping his expensive coffee and watching the bank. He hoped that no-one else would interrupt him, he was working after all.

  The fancy cars and expensive suits moved down the street. All Maeville’s rich elite racing to get their premium coffees, at their premium shops, in their premium cars. There was a significant divide between the rich and poor in this city, something Harvie was fixing, in his own way. After today’s job, he was getting a ticket out of this city, and spending the rest of his days getting laid and drunk in Mexico.

  A black van with a city logo pulled up beside the bank. The driver rolled down his window and looked directly at Harvie.

  Harvie gave the driver a nod.

  The driver looked over his shoulder into the back of the van and said something. Four figures carrying assault rifles and wearing ski masks jumped out of the van’s side door and jogged up the stairs to the bank’s entrance.

  Harvie downed the rest of his expensive coffee, grabbed his duffel bag, and made his way towards the bank by jaywalked across the street. Most cars swerved around him and honked, but one taxi driver nearly hit him, stopping just short of a few inches from Harvie’s leg. Harvie chuckled and raised his middle finger towards the taxi driver as he continued walking. Nobody was going to ruin this day for him. When he was in the alley beside the bank, he opened his duffel to retrieve the ski mask and rifle stashed inside.

  Harvie came up to a side door to the bank and banged on the door twice.

  The door opened from the opposite side by another man wearing a ski mask. It was Jerry, judging by those blue eyes.

  “Everything on schedule?” Harvie asked Jerry, as he walked though the door.

  “Yea, boss. Tim and Samantha are packing up the vault as we speak. We’ve got all the guards and clerks accounted for and tied,” Jerry replied, following just behind Harvie.

  They traveled though a hallway until coming into the main lobby.

  Harvie smiled. The heist couldn’t have been going any smoother. Granted, they don’t call him the Maeville Ghost for nothing, he was the best. Untouchable and untraceable.

  The Maeville Municipal Bank was a luxurious place if you were into the whole Roman aesthetic. Hell, someone could rob the walls or doors in here and still make a good score. Pillars of carved of white marble arched up to a high domed ceiling. The teller’s counters were made of stained oak with ornate gold-plated bars sticking out of them in multiple arches, probably to preventing anyone from strangling the teller’s when they say the interest rate on mortgages increased again. Although, most modern places ditched the bars for bullet proof plexiglass by now, for you know, gun safety. Perhaps the managers considered the bars authentic, or they were just so arrogant that they assumed no-one would try and rob the biggest bank in Maeville.

  Harvie looked at his watch, then over the counter to the vault as Tim and Samantha packed money into duffel bags. He threw his duffel bag over the golden teller bars for his team to fill as well. “Keep up the pace people, four more minutes until first responders get here! That means I want us packed and leaving in two!” he yelled.

  “Yes boss!” replied the members of his team in unison.

  The last member of Harvie’s team, Phillip, was patrolling amongst the men and women zip-tied to various tables, railings, and desks. Phillip looked at a security guard for a second, then slammed the butt of his rifle into the guard’s head.

  The guard slumped forward in unconsciousness, while a miniature pistol clattered to the floor out of his hand.

  Harvie nodded towards Phillip and said, “Good eye.”

  “Yea, I’m glad I saw it. Never seen a guard smart enough to carry a spare. Must have been hiding it up his sleeve,” Phillip replied, while pocketing the miniature handgun.

  Harvie’s eyes went over the other guards. Hopefully, no-one else tried to play the hero.

  Philip let out a yelp of surprised, causing Harvie to look at the man.

  “I swear the pistol just-” Philip began, as he reached for the small pistol. Suddenly, needle-like spikes stabbed though his pants pocket, as if a metal sea urchin suddenly appeared inside. Philip immediately dropped his rifle in surprise and stared in horror at his leg, shouting, “What the fuck!”

  Harvie just starred in confusion at what he was seeing. Guns don’t do that.

  The spiked metal ripped free of Phillip’s pants, forming into a dodecahedron while floating in the direction of the bank’s entrance. The geometric ball came to a hover, only an inch above a woman’s open palm.

  Harvie’s eyebrows went up and he felt his mouth hang open. Little surprises him, but she did.

  The woman had long blonde hair tied into a ponytail and was dressed in a seamless green rubber-like catsuit that co
vered her entire body halfway up her neck. The suit had dark green detailing on her flanks and formed to her body perfectly, bringing attention to her feminine curves. It was like someone vacuum sealed her into the thing. She looked to be just over six feet tall with those dark green wedged heels built into her suit. On her face, she had a mask of the same material, with dark green makeup shadowing around her eyes.

  “Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to steal,” she said, while lazily watching the geometric ball rotate above her palm.

  “Mother wasn’t around. Father was drinking. Guess I missed the lesson,” Harvie said as he shamelessly took mental images of the woman for later.

  The woman looked to Harvie and smiled, then said, “You’re in luck. I’ll teach you the lesson myself.” The ball hovering above her hand darted towards Philip with a flick of her wrist. The ball connected with Phillips head with a metallic pang, then zipped towards Harvie.

  Harvie dived towards the hallway he came in. He came out of the dive into a roll and spun around to take cover around the corner. He then took a quick breath, turned out of his cover, and fired his rifle at the woman.

  The woman saw Harvie coming and lifted her arm, causing the marble floor in front of her to erupt upwards, creating a wall between her and Harvie.

  As their line of sight was broken, Harvie saw his opening. He quickly ran out from the hallway, through the barred security door, and slid behind the teller counter. Thank god, Jerry propped the security door open.

  Harvie watched as his team quickly finish filling their bags in the vault and shouted, “You know, Halloween isn’t for another six months.”

  “Funny, haven’t heard that one yet,” the woman replied sarcastically.

  “I think I saw you in the paper the other day. You’re that hero, Green Stuff,” Harvie called. He needed to stall for time so his team could escape. He wasn’t getting out of this, but with the cash they were taking away, his team would have plenty of money to bribe him out of jail.

  “It’s Greenmatter, actually,” she replied with an annoyed undertone.

  Harvie watched as his team made their way for the back door in a crouch. “Funny, I could have sworn they said your name was Green Stuff,” He called out.

  “They,” Greenmatter started, then sighed. “That was a misprint,” she said, annoyed.

  “Alright, Greenmatter, I was wondering. How is it that you get into that suit?” Harvey asked.

  From Harvie’s left, he heard Greenmatter reply in his ear, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

  Greenmatter was sitting next to him against the counter. Harvie jumped, or tried to, but found that his pants and shirt appeared to be glued to the floor and counter. “What the-” he began.

  Greenmatter laughed and asked,” You think you’re the only one that was stalling?” Then said, “I phased your pants and shirt into the floor and counter. Also, your gun’s jammed.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Your too late, my team is long gone.” Harvey said with a smug smile.

  “Oh? I wonder how they got through the back door?” Greenmatter asked innocently.

  Harvie’s smile faded and he listened. Sure enough, he could hear someone slamming their shoulder into the backdoor.

  Greenmatter smiled. “Their boxed into the hallway too. Anyway, you’ve had a good run, Ghost, but robbing banks isn’t a living. Go flip burgers or something like everyone else. They say you have to start somewhere.” She said, then patted Harvie on the cheek. Standing up, she moved to walk away, give Harvie a final view of her heart-shaped ass wrapped in that suit.

  Harvie was furious, in all his years of stealing and fighting, no-one beat him so effortlessly. He was the Maeville Ghost. If anyone should have failed, it was supposed to be her. He ground his teeth and balled up his fists until his knuckles popped. Honestly, if he ever saw her again, he’d make her regret ever crossing him.

  Police sirens were beginning to become audible from outside the bank.

  Harvie frowned.

  A teller zip-tied at the end of the counter, broke the partial silence and commented, “She’d hot,” in an admirable tone.

  “Yea, she hot,” said Harvey through gritted teeth.

  Chapter 1 (three months ago)

  My name is Rachel Rutherford, well at least that’s what it says on my driver’s licence. My real name is Elmyra Reylar. I’m technically an illegal alien from another dimension, but we’ll keep that our little secret. Before I came to earth, I was a scientist on my home world of Ashanti, working on H-gate technology.

  H-gates were to be portals linking two points in space and time. Ideally these portals could allow someone to travel from one planet to another, either instantaneously or during a different time-period. They were time travel portals, provided the point in time was during the lifetime of the receiving gate. The gate had to be there to begin with after all, which is kind of why I’m here.

  You see, the technology was still in the prototype phase of development, and when we were certain the technology was ready, I volunteered to be the first live test subject. H-technology was/is very mathematically complicated. When I went through the portal, the numbers were slightly off. I mean, a hundredth of a decimal off, but enough that when I went through gate A, I completely overshot gate B. It was an accident that we never imagined possible. I honestly thought I would have just walked right through an empty gate or maybe disintegrated. Walking into another dimension, on another planet, tens of thousands of years in the past, was not at all what I was expecting.

  Think of how statistically unlikely my accident was. Not only did I travel to another dimension, I landed on another planet. The galaxy is made up of 0.01% matter, I was a thousand times more likely to just end up floating in space than landing on anything solid. Not to mention, landing on a habitable planet. I could have just fallen into a sun or got crushed by a gas giant.

  My father always said I was lucky, and considering the math, I’d say he was probably right. I didn’t just come to earth not dead; I came to earth as a superior species. On my planet we are still called humans (which is another astonishing improbability), but your humans can’t manipulate matter with their minds. It’s a trait that let my species technology flourish quickly. Having opposable thumbs and brains, let your humans take over the planet as the superior species in a few thousand years. Imagine how fast our technology developed, when you could build a sword in ten minutes with a little imagination.

  My world was something of wonder. Impossibly large buildings of every imaginable shape and colour such as, the tree towers with hundreds of tunneled buildings all branching off a central mast. I once saw a man with a car that could move over obstacles like an octopus walking over the sea floor. Not to mention the food that was available. God, the food was fantastic. When a chef can build his dish down to the very molecule, mouthfeel takes on a whole new level.

  I talk fondly about my past home world, but it had its flaws.

  Sadly, when everyone in your society can create whatever they desire with their minds, the only thing you can put a price on, is matter itself. Poverty in my world became an issue. The rich took all the materials for themselves, and the poor would be lucking if they owned a stone they could shape. Granted, you could just take material from your surroundings, but security and surveillance were rampant for that very reason. Stealing matter was a serious crime, in some cases punishable by reintegration. Afterall, if you didn’t have a use to society, the matter you were composed of did.

  In your world I’m free to build whatever I want with whatever I want, kind of. Everyone still owns things here, so I must be careful not to disassemble anything of significant value, but that still leaves plenty for me. I can create my own food, water, clothes, and shelter, which I did when I first came here.

  The first few months after my arrival, I just observed from the sidelines. I took the time to understand where I was, and what it meant for me to be here. If I was to be stuck here, I might as well enjoy it. I observed that your
world also had an issue with wealth distribution, although less severe to my world. I also found that your technology was way behind my own. Judging by the astronomical data I could dig up on the internet, we were nearly 780,500 thousand years in my past.

  By watching movies, I got the sense that my plan of, just walking up to your government and saying, “Hey, I’m an alien from another dimension that has superpowers, can I live here?” wouldn’t work. That option would likely to get me captured and interrogated in a military installation for the rest of my life.

  The only way I was going to fit into this world, was to start from the bottom up. I already had four science degrees on my planet, so enrolling in the university seemed like the best option. I got a loan that paid for my dorm and fed me. A loan which I quickly did away with, as I got perfect grades in my classes, allowing me to coast through school on scholarships; If you consider coasting as having to visiting the dean weekly to retake exams because he is convinced your cheating, coasting.

  Coasting through school did lead to one issue though. I was bored. I mean, you can only rearrange the molecular makeup of your dorm room so many times before you start running out of ideas. I had more matter to manipulate than I’ve had in my entire life. I was rich by my world’s standards, yet it wasn’t enough. I had unimaginable power compared to my peers, but I had to keep it a secret or face dissection. It was like I was trapped in a weird dream, where I could do whatever I want, provided no-one saw me.

  Even if I got my degrees, what then? Bring the people of earth new technology, then build a corporate empire to sell it like everyone else. My entire past life was corporate empires and greed. If I have a roof over my head, I don’t need anymore money. So honestly, after I graduate again, I’ll probably just give my technology out for free or cheap.

  I started trying to find more ways of occupying my time. Eventually, I got a job as a waitress at some bar called Leo’s, but soon found that with the tight black dressed I was required to wear, men and even women couldn’t keep their hands off me. If I couldn’t just remove the greasy stains on the ass of my dress with my mind, I’d have to adopt some serious cleaning products. I also got fired from that job after one guy grabbed my chest, prompting me to smash a plate over his head in response. That place was a dump anyway.